#even if it is sometimes inspired by real events

[bluebobatea]

if sasuke was the main character then he probably would've been a LOT more sympathised with than he is now (which is to say rarely). like the narrative wouldn't even need to change to show his pains or 'his side of the story', bc it does that plenty. it's just that he is not the main character. and idk what it is about our human minds but we tend to sympathise with main characters automatically (unless ofc you go off the rockers insane and do something like obliterate almost everyone from the planet *cough* eren yeager *cough*)

an instance that comes to my mind where this does happen is with lelouch from code geass. while i don't agree with his character motivations, people generally do sympathise with him as he is the mc and as viewers we know he isn't inherently evil. sasuke's goal towards the end is slightly similar but ofc people love to hate him so they don't even try to understand where he is coming from.

my point is, most people while engaging with the naruto story don't read between the lines and so don't see how traumatised and in pain sasuke is and hence don't understand his character motivations. heck, they don't understand a single bit about him and so they automatically hate him, as he is supposedly going against the main character's goals.

which is really sad given all that he has been through.

[skunkes]

might sound weird to say as a person with a couple ocs who have Big Horrible Event(s) in their backstories or as a person who has like 3 ocs total bc he sucks at writing and as a person who hopes their ocs arent too Boring with [the thing im about to mention] but the thing about writing [characters] and [people] is that like.

any little thing a person experiences can take up their whole existence... its actually something "fun" to experience as i meet new ppl and do more things. My friend had something happen that she'll be talking about forever. I had several things happen last year that ill never stop talking about, some of which other ppl think werent that bad actually. In the same way I'll forever remember about the way my sister accidentally insulted me almost 10 years ago, it's really interesting and Fun to find and assign smaller things like that to characters...its really Real. some people's dealbreakers are other people's solvable problems etc etc

[notasapleasure]

THIS is the face I am making at that 'ten plagues of egypt were real!!' post ok

horrible.

your sources are the telegraph and time magazine. people in the reblogs are saying they know this is true because they watched a 'science based documentary'. Even the goddamned wikipedia page linked to in a reblog says that academics think the atlantis inspiration theory is bullshit.

So a microbiologist and an epidemiologist had some headline grabbing theories. This does not history make.

But OH my bad, even on tumblr we actually need Scientists, that infallible and unbiased breed, to tell us how history Really Happened! Those silly historians and linguists and airy fairy types can't even agree on the dates! Please allow science to come in and clear this mess up :)))

[akkivee]

someone suggested that the manga jiro’s reading in the 8th live cover is actually a soccer-fied version of bb vs mtc and i can’t unsee it now lol

[pukicho]

You've changed, man. I don't know what it is but some time in the past six months your shitposting got a bitter edge to it. Sure you could blame the political climate or world events on it but...I dunno. I used to scroll your blog to momentarily escape the hardships of today but now it feels like even you're not a safe place any more. I wish you luck on your journeys onwards but I'm sorry to say I cannot travel with you any more. Be well, puki, and I hope whatever troubles you passes.

Escapism is important and I try to offer that to a degree, but ultimately, I am a person. I experience hardships, I empathize with the worsening conditions of my world. As long as I care about things external to myself, I will subtlety, or blatantly express them in some way in my blog, which I’ve done for years, not merely 6 months.

Unbeknownst to you, these concerns are often the inspiration for some of my most beloved posts.

You’re free to leave of course, if my 1 serious post out of every 30 fucks your day up that badly, then please, feel free! - I simply don’t see my blog as escapist fluff, it never has been, even if that is often the outcome. My page has always been about my interests, and I just so happen to enjoy making people laugh.

I see it more as a fun place to hang out and express the feelings I feel inclined to express, most of which are fun and goofy, some of which are not. I love our little playful back-and-forths, and I enjoy seeing your insights, even if some of you are fucking stupid as shit. Sometimes I just like using you guys as little guinea pigs, testing my odd expressions out on you, and sitting back and seeing the outcome.

Ultimately, I try to balance balance 3 things on my page:

Comedy, as you know - I like making jokes, I like testing them out on people. Even if they suck, I like writing them regardless. Sometimes I sit back after writing something I know objectively sucks, hit send, and watch as everyone tells me how much it sucks. It brings me joy.

A desire for money - because if not, I wouldn't be able to make posts half as often as I do (ie, shirt sales, promoting my music, etc) - Sometimes that anxiety for money also bleeds into my posts, it has for years; and I hold back from being even more desperate about money than I feel I should be sometimes.

And the point you brought up: The occasional comment on something real that matters to me. - Over the past 3 years, if not longer, I’ve made a few uncharacteristically-serious statements on things like Covid, Gaza, The Presidency, hell, even the indigenous people of Australia... and more.

Why do I feel inclined to discuss these things? Because I want to. My page has always been about what I want. Fortunately for you, what I usually want to do is to make you laugh! But sometimes I wish to express other feelings, because I have a platform that allows my voice to travel further than that of others!

For those angry at all the qualms I don't bring up, try to understand my balancing act, as someone who understands your desire for escapism, and the comfort that it brings you. If the veil falls, remember, we are of like-company - - and maybe, this veil was only ever in your head to begin with.

[orcasoul]

The Plus One

Summery: You and Pedro have been in a relationship for a while but for some reason he'd stopped inviting you to social events. Has he grown tired of you...?

Warnings: swearing, angst (because I liiive for it!), mental health issues, low self esteem from reader, caring Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.

This is inspired by the video of Pedro dancing his arse off at Sarah Paulsons 50th birthday party. God bless this man for randomly inspiring us when he's not even trying to lol.

Word Count: 3,516

It's a quiet evening at home. The living room fireplace is softy blazing, the crackling red and orange flames along with the Christmas tree lights and low lamp light bathes the room in a reposeful ambience. You're snuggled up on the settee in your favourite fluffy Oodie, sipping a hot chocolate as you finish reading a Christmas rom com by one of your favourite authors. And while this is something that usually helps you to unwind at the end of the day, you can't seem to shift that gutting feeling deep down in your stomach. You should have been with Pedro tonight at Sarah's party instead of here alone. With the book finished you're about to check Kindle for your next read but before opening the app, you'd decided to check your notifications on facebook.

Now you wish you hadn't. Of course the first thing to pop up would be a video of Pedro having the time of his life at the party. Not that that is the real issue here. You're not the controlling or possessive type who wants to keep their partner all for yourself and deny them any kind of social life; quite the opposit, in fact. The thing that really hurts, that makes your heart physically ache is that you're never included in Pedro's social events anymore. You would have loved to have been his date to Sarah's party and make memories with him like normal couples do. You've met Sarah on several occasions and the two of you had always got along really well, so why would he rather go alone than bring you?

You've been together for six months now, so it's not like you're in the early stages where you're both yet to meet the others' family and friends. It just doesn't make sense. You had attended a few ceremonies and promotional events for Pedro's movies with him before now and even though they had been quite intense environments to be in, you were just thrilled to be there with him, to support him and show the world how proud you are of him. And you'd like to think that you were adept at hiding the effects that your social anxiety had on you during these occasions. You'd smile, engage in chit chat and if it became too overwhelming you'd always secretly resort to your special coping technique to calm your nerves; stroking slow circles on the palm of your hand.

But it had been months since you'd last attended any events with him and as time goes on it just hurts more and more. You'd hoped time would have made it easier to accept, but truthfully it makes you feel abandoned, insignificant, like you don't belong in his world. Is that it? Is he embarrassed by you? It's true you're both from very different worlds, having met through friends of friends and not through working together in the film industry. Sometimes you still can't understand why he'd chose to be with a nobody like you when he could literally have any woman he wanted. As your mind continues to spiral, taking you to dark places, tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

To love him so much, only to feel it's not enough for him to want you around is... soul crushing. You'd been trying for so long to ignore that niggling little voice in the back of your mind; the one telling you that you aren't good enough for him and there has been times when you'd been able to mute it, especially when you're together and he looks at you with pure adoration in his eyes, or the times he would come home to LA between filming, even if it was just for a couple of days to see you or if he couldn't make it he'd fly you out to the set. No matter what he always made time for your relationship, but only out of the public eye. Pedro has always been a private person, especially when it comes to romantic involvements, but it feels like he's trying to hide you.

And now, this latest video has turned that niggling little voice into a full on megaphone, screaming an endless barrage of ugly truths at you; you're not enough for him. He's bored of you. You're an embarrassment, a stone around his neck. It was only a matter of time. You clutch at your chest as your heart shatters into a thousand pieces, sobs wracking your body. It's over! How could you have not seen it sooner?! He doesn't need you in his life. He's bloody Pedro Pascal for heavens' sake.

You were a delusional fool to ever believe you had anything to offer him. Maybe this is his way of subtly telling you it wasn't working for him anymore. Maybe he'd hoped showing you the stark differences between you both would have made you realise it couldn't continue, and being the kind and gentle man he is, he didn't want to outright dump you and hurt you, so this was the best strategy.

Now your sorrow is tinged with anger. If he wanted to end it all this time he damn well should have had the balls to tell you instead of dragging it out. So, it's down to you now; if he won't do it, you'll have to. Your tablet screen is now shining with your tears. You wipe it dry with your sleeve and throw it down beside you, Knidle well and truly forgotton. Fluffing up a cushion, you curl up on the settee while your broken heart mourns and weeps.

As the party came to an end Pedro couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He'd had a great time and wouldn't have missed one of his best friends' milestone birthdays for the world, but he missed you like hell tonight. He especially felt the sting of your absence when he would see couples dancing or sitting together, hand in hand or snuggling up. He feels selfish, but he wishes you could have been here tonight. And not just tonight, but to all his recent public appearances like the premiers for The Wild Robot and Gladiator 2, but he won't put you through that again.

The guilt still eats away at him when he casts his mind back to the last couple of times you'd attended high profile events with him, even low key and private ones where there isn't a constant blinding flash of cameras. He knows of your struggles with your mental health, in particular with social anxiety (something he can absolutely relate to) and even through your obvious facade he could see what the pressure was doing to you, often feeling a slight tremble in your hand while laced with his. He could see the difference between your forced smile and your genuine smile; the one that would make your eyes sparkle and he could lose himself in them completely.

But the worst thing was when you start rubbing the palm of your hand over and over when you'd thought he wasn't watching. He knew then it was all becoming too much for you and that's when he'd decided that he won't be selfish anymore, that he had to prioritise your well being and comfort before his own and if that meant attending ceremonies and large gatherings alone, so be it. Of course, he always felt incomplete without you at his side, but your needs far outweigh his own as far as he's concerned. Knowing he can shield you from even a fraction of discomfort makes the sacrifice worth it.

After slipping into his jacket, Pedro found Sarah at the front door of her house, waving some guests off. Wrapping her in a big hug, he said, "Happy birthday again, sweetie and thanks for inviting me." Sarah returned the hug. "I'm so glad you came, but I missed seeing Y/N tonight. How is she?" Pedro couldn't hold back the grin that broke out across his face at the mention of your name. "She's great. I wanted to bring her tonight, but I think the crowd would have been too much for her." Sarah smiled endearingly at her friend. "You really do love her, don't you?" Pedro chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh no reason..." she smirked. " Only that I've never seen you so smitten and protective over any other woman in all the years I've known you. You've got it bad." Pedro rolled his eyes, playfully. "Yeah, I guess I do." "So, what are you waiting for?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you talking about?" Pedro asked, knowing exactly what she meant. "You've been carrying that ring around with you for weeks now and still haven't asked her. What's holding you back?" Pedro shifted uncomfortably, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Just worried about her, that's all. The moment word gets out of an engagement, paparazzi will be circling like vultures. I don't just want her overwhelmed." "I think you underestimate her," Sarah began, "I don't think she'd ever let her anxiety get in the way of being with you. It's obvious how much she loves you. In fact when I'm around you two for too long, the sweetness gives me temporary diabetes." Pedro let out a deep belly laugh at that, drawing one from Sarah in return.

"Just do it..." she urged, gently. "You know she'll say yes." Pedro smiled and nodded, "I know." "Well..." Sarah yawned, "Get out of here. I'm fifty now and need my beauty sleep." She gave Pedro another hug. "So, I'll see you and Y/N for lunch next week?" "Sure," Pedro replied, "Goodnight, sweetie." He waved as he walked to his car. "Night," Sarah called out before closing the door.

Settling in his car, Pedro connected his phone to the car speaker and rang your phone. He promised he'd call after the party to say goodnight and couldn't wait to hear your voice. But as soon as you answered, he knew something was wrong. "Hey baby, everything okay?" he asked, worridly. His worry only increased when you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. "Yeah um... I'm fine." You most definitely aren't fine! "You're a shit liar, you know that?" Pedro says, lightheartedly to help put you at ease. Now his tone turns more serious. "Tell me what's wrong." Silence... "Y/N? You're starting to scare me now." "I told you I'm fine. I'm just... tired." You tried to sound convincing but failed, spectacularly.

"I'm coming over -" "No!" Your abrupt outburst silenced Pedro. You've never turned him away in all the months you've been together. "It's... uh... it's late. You should just get home safe." Pedro sighed. "I know something's wrong and if you won't tell me on the phone I'm coming over." At that, you burst into tears. A pang shot straight through Pedro's heart at the sound of you crying. "Hey, baby, talk to me!" he pled. "What happened?" In between the the sniffling your voice became strained. "I didn't want to do this over the phone." Pedro suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut, not liking the tone of this conversation. "Do what?" he asked, hesitantly. "Its..." sniffle, "It's over."

If Pedro hadn't already been sitting in the car his legs would have given out on him! "W- what?!" he stuttered in disbelief. "What do you mean it's over?!" His hands gripped the steering wheel for support. Where the fuck did this come from all of a sudden?! "Please..." you whispered, sounding mentally drained. "Don't pretend you didn't know this was coming. If you don't want me anymore you should have said something sooner." Pdero jerked his head back, blinking in shock. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" You are full on sobbing now, your words just an unintelligible jumble. "I'm coming over, right now!" "No, please-" "I'm coming over!" he cut you off bluntly and hung up the phone.

His hands shook as he started up the engine and it took all of his willpower to not floor it to your house. Getting pulled over for speeding is the last thing he needs right now. The whole way over, his mind was a frantic mess. What could have happened between the last time he saw you (which was only yesterday) and now? Did he say something? Do something? When he got to your house, he practically flew from the car, his fist pounding on your front door almost as hard as his heart was pounding behind his ribs. "Baby open up, please. I'm not leaving until you talk to me." A few moments later the door cracked open and there you stood, puffy eyed and blotchy faced. Your lips had swollen and your nose shone red from crying.

Pedro could have cried himself from the state you're in. Without a second thought he pushed his way through the door and swept you into his arms, cupping the back of your head to his chest. To his relief, instead of pushing him away, you encircled your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He reached back to close the door behind him, then guided you to the setee, sitting beside you. "Now, what's all this about, hmm? I know this isn't what you really want." You shook your head, a small humourless laugh escaping you. "Of course it's not, but deep down I think it's what you want."

Pedro's forefinger gently tipped your chin up so you were looking into his eyes; big puppy dog eyes filled hurt, confusion and fear. "What I want?" His bottom lip twitched as if he was lost for words. You nod, wiping your cheeks. "W- why would you ever think something like that, sweetheart?" Pedro's shocked expression now has you doubting yourself. Were you wrong? But how could you be? For a while, you've been trying to ignore the feeling that he was slipping away but looking at him now... It's like he'd never even entertained the idea of leaving you. All this uncertainty is giving you whiplash and you can't hold it in anymore. You need to get everything off your chest.

"I..." you trail off as you feel more tears gathering, ready to pour out along with all your insecurities. "...I feel like you don't want me around anymore..." you begin, chest shuddering with nerves and hiccups. "You never invite me to anything, whether it's to do with your public life or even your social life. I'm never included like a partner should be. I need you to be honest... Are you ashamed of me? Because sometimes I feel like you don't want to be seen with me and that you've been pulling away..." You're rambling now, but you just can't stop. "I know I'm not on the same level as you and there are so many beautiful women out there throwing themselves at your feet. Maybe I don't belong in your world. Maybe I'm not enough for you-" Pedro's hands on either side of your face stops your self deprecating tirade.

"Baby, don't you ever put yourself down like that again, you hear me?" You're shocked to see Pedro's cheeks are now wet too. "I'm sorry. Fucking hell! I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I thought I was protecting you this whole time." "Protecting me?" you ask in bewilderment. Pedro gave you a sad smile. "I Know from years of experience that being in the spotlight is tough. It can be draining and I could see how hard it was for you." Pedro took one of your hands and turned it over, rubbing slow circles into your palm. When you realised what he meant by that action, he nodded and kissed your forehead.

"I know you tried to hide it from me, but I noticed every time." "I'm sorry," you mumbled, shame burning your cheeks. "No." Pedro squeezed your hand. "You never apologise for that. I'm the one who's sorry. I was afraid if I mentioned it, you deny it for my sake, so I stopped asking you to come with me thinking it was the best thing for you." Pedro exhaled and your heart ached for him, seeing the guilt and remorse crushing him. "I didn't think it would have looked like I never want you around, 'cause the truth is I miss you, EVERY GODDAMN TIME I have to attend these things without you. I want you with me, now and forever. I'll tell you what..." he looked to be carefully considering his next words. "if you feel up for it, come with me to the next event and if you feel overwhelmed at any point, you tell me and we'll take some time out or even leave."

More tears fall, but this time from sheer relief. You hadn't realised you'd dropped your head again until Pedro, once again, lifted your chin. He looked into your eyes with a fierce and passionate determination. "Now, I'll say this only once; I'm not ashamed of you, we are on the same level, you are more than enough for me and you ARE my world. I love you, so much!" You couldn't fight the beaming smile that practically split your face and you grabbed Pedro by the collar of his jacket, crashing your lips against his.

A surprised "Oomph!" came from his throat and you felt him smile against your mouth. His hands slid to your waist and he pulled you flush to his upper body. His tongue licked your lips and you opened them, allowing him to deepen then kiss; a kiss filled with love, reassurance and a promise of forever. Pedro then broke the kiss, pulling you into a hug. "I love you too," you whispered into his ear. "And I'm sorry, I should have told you how I was feeling instead of keeping it from you." Pedro cupped your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry too, for making that decision for you instead of talking to you."

You let out a lighthearted chuckle, Pedro's frown softening at the sound. "I guess it was just bad communication on both our parts." "Yeah..." he agreed. "Let's make a promise to each other, right now; that we'll always be open and honest with each other and not keep things bottled up." "I promise," you smile and kiss the tip of his nose. "And I promise, too," he returned the kiss. With all the tension drained from your body, you suddenly feel exhausted and can't stop the big yawn taking over you. Pedro smiled at you, adoringly. "I think we should get you to bed, sweetheart." He stood up, picking you up off the setee and made his way to your bedroom.

"Will you stay tonight?" You whisper as you snuggle into his neck, inhaling the scent you love so much. "Of course I will." He kissed the crown of your head. While you used the bathroom, pedro changed into a pair of PJ bottoms and an old T-shirt he'd left here for when he'd stay over. He used the bathroom after you, rushing through brushing his teeth just so he could return to you sooner. Walking into the bedroom, he laughed to himself when all could see was your eyes peeking at him from the edge of the quilt, which was pulled up to cover your nose. God, you look adorable. Your eyes creased in the corners as you laughed under the cover, then pulled it away for him to settle in next to you.

Pedro laid on his back, lifting his arm for you to snuggle into him. Sighing happily, you lay your head on his broad chest and lace a leg over his hips, the steady thump of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body soothing you instantly. "I love you." You tipped your head up to kiss him softly on his lips. "I love you too," he purred, tightening his arms around you. It didn't take you more than ten minutes to drop off, judging by your slow breaths. Pedro, on the other hand, stayed awake long after you'd dropped off, just relishing the feeling of holding you in his arms. He feels sick to his stomach when he thinks about how close he came to losing you tonight, and all because of a misunderstanding.

He thinks of the ring he's been carrying around, how he almost lost the opportunity to give it to you. Well, he won't wait any longer. If tonight has taught him anything, it's that nothing is guaranteed in life and, even though he never once doubted you'd say yes, just your devastated reaction to believing you'd lost him proves that you love and need him as much as he does you. Tomorrow he'll ask you; He'll wine and dine you at your favourite restaurant, take you on a stroll along the beach and then, he'll get down on one knee and invite you to share the rest of your life with him.

@greenwitchfromthewoods @picketniffler @liciafonseca @misscornelia13 @missadangel @southernbe

[narcjsistx]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 | OS

sae itoshi x fem reader ; words: 1.4k (1487)

coming from this event, second day, 19/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: that your boyfriend was sometimes distant was not a new thing. he often needed his space, both physical and mental, and you accepted this. but you did not expect him to put a match in the first place of the list on the day of your wedding anniversary

The pillowcase was slowly drying after collecting all those tears, but a wet feeling was still noticeable if you rested your cheek on it. Even though hours had passed, the wet feeling remained on your cheeks too. The room was silent, the only audible noise came from the flat-screen television, which with dazzling lights transmitted the face of your boyfriend, now husband, in his ReAl uniform. Hair combed as usual, the same serious face, the same Sae Itoshi. The only thing that still gave a little hype to his fans was the ring that reflected on his finger, which he had been wearing for exactly a year now. Your wedding had left the entire football world speechless, because no one would have ever expected to see Sae Itoshi, the Japanese prodigy, become a mass of love for a simple girl

Yet, exactly one year ago, Sae had sworn to himself that your dreams, your ideals, your everything would now also become his inspiration; that now, no matter what the situation, he would do anything to be by your side. Your dream was to have a normal first anniversary, but why he wasn't there with you? What happened to his heartfelt promises?

It's that Sae, despite being a mass of love, remained Sae. Sae, who needs his space from time to time; Sae, who loves solitude as much as he loves being with you; Sae, who nevertheless remains the most famous soccer player in Japan for his prodigious skills. You had to understand that something like this would happen sooner or later, but you didn't expect it on this day

The game begins. You watch your husband move nimbly among the opponents, who try in every way to keep him from getting close to the net

Your head still hurt a little from the little fight you had. This morning you had woken up with the intention of spending the most romantic day in the world with your husband; yet, when you woke up and didn't find him in bed next to you, you realized that there was a problem, or that maybe he was simply hungry and had gone earlier than expected to have breakfast in the kitchen. Getting out of bed you heard his voice talking on the phone to someone, and when you arrived in the living room he didn't even say 'good morning'

"I'm leaving. The team is one player short due to an injury, they asked me to play"

You had replied that he didn't have to accept, that he had literally asked for a day off just to be with you, and yet now he didn't seem to care as he packed all his usual things into his sports bag and left the house, leaving you sad and also a little disappointed. You couldn't explain how you, his wife, had been put in second place because of a stupid game. How could he have done it?

You and Sae had been together for years now, but never, never, absolutely never, he had put you second to soccer, which was strange actually. When you started dating him you had already gotten used to the idea that, if everything had gone well between you, you would always be second to his greatest passion; and yet, it had never happened, in fact, it had happened that he had canceled training to be with you. But why did it happen now that you were even married?

He was playing in a nearby stadium actually, a few kilometers from your house in sunny Madrid. For a moment you had the idea of taking the car and going with him, surprising him and forgetting about this situation, but you hadn't done it for the simple reason that you felt exaggeratedly annoyed. You have always been a calm and patient person, especially with Sae who you knew needed his space and, in some cases, his time. But now, wrapped up in your bed with the pillow to your chest and your gaze fixed on the television, calm and patience seemed to be only a distant and beautiful memory

The commentator starts talking in a rant just as your husband is frighteningly close to the opponent's goal, the ball tightly in his field of action. With a sharp and precise backheel the ball ends up in the net, causing the entire stadium to erupt in a hungry roar for more goals from the Japanese prodigy. Even though you were angry with him, deep down you couldn't help but be proud to see him shine, even if him being there had caused you pain and annoyance

The cameras are all focused on the boy, who with his usual nonchalance does nothing special. Scoring goals is extremely easy for him, more than once you have asked yourself if he actually puts in the least effort or if he just puts the autopilot on every time he enters the field. The precision with him kicks the ball is measured to the millimeter, and you have to say that it is the same he has always had with you since you have been together. It wasn't an easy cohabitation at the beginning, but you loved him and he loved you, so with patience you tried to understand how to reach a point of agreement

The second half begins. The opposing team marks him with a sort of rage, but the ball always comes back to your husband's feet, like a magnet. It only takes a few minutes before another goal, again by Sae, brings his team to an unmatched level, no longer reachable by the opposing team. It is impossible to recover 2 goals in less than 10 minutes, and then frankly the opponents seem a bit poor to you. And just as you predicted, the game ends with the spanish team winning and the crowd chanting your husband's name

You get out of bed, sitting on the mattress as the reporters come out to interview the players. You know Sae doesn't like being interviewed, so he'll probably be home in less than another hour; the air will probably be a little uncomfortable because of the little fight, but you sigh. It just happened

You are about to leave the room to go get a glass of water, when you hear your husband's voice on television. An interviewer caught him just as he was about to enter the players' exit corridor, the one that leads to the locker rooms

"Sae, really amazing match today"

"Yes. I think the same."

"From the director it was understood that today you actually weren't supposed to play, you had the day off but you freed yourself anyway when you learned about the problem due to the missing player. The day off was for your anniversary?"

"Yes. I was supposed to celebrate with my wife actually."

"And you're playing here? Wife in the background like most players? It wouldn't actually be new-"

"Please don't label me as someone who doesn't care about my wife. If I didn't care about her, I wouldn't have asked her to marry me, right?"

"I'm not saying that's, just that-"

"I love my wife. Today is our anniversary and if I scored 2 goals the team should thank her, since they were dedicated to her. It's just the first part of my gift"

"It's just that-"

"I have to go. You're taking away time I could spend with her."

And so, walking away from the reporter, Sae enters the corridor and disappears. You remain still for a few seconds, turning only when the reporter talks about something else. Sae is not one to show his love, not that he is ashamed, but it is not in his reserved nature to do so; and now, in front of millions of people, he has so freely admitted everything he feels?

Was that your husband? It really was your Sae?

You run to the kitchen, grabbing your phone and entering his chat, where you find a message you hadn't read, sent shortly after you argued

— hubby <3 🐙❤️

Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not doing this because I don't care about our day

- Did you actually say those things on TV? Do you have a fever?

You finally answered. No fever, sorry to disappoint you. I just wanted to do it

- It was unexpected

That I dedicated goals to you or that I talked about you so openly?

- Both

I'm coming home. Sorry for earlier, but I want to tell you to your face. There are more gifts I still have to give you, it is our anniversary after all, right?

If he had all these gifts he talked about, maybe you could give him yours that you've been mulling over since last night. Maybe it was time to show him that pregnancy test that's been in your drawer for hours

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[mytheoristavenue]

How MHA Guys React to Fangirls

Summary: Dating a pro hero can be a challenge, especially one so handsome, with so many rabid fans.

Warnings: jealousy, fluff, gn!reader, very little angst

Katsuki Bakugo:

Bakugo has never been into having fans as he is just being all together admired. Not one for social interactions, he tends to clam up and become defensive when asked for an autograph, so when he's approached by a fangirl, he wants nothing to do with them. Especially if he's out with you, off duty. If one does happen to approach, and ignoring them doesn't do the trick, he'll make sure he's not their favorite hero anymore by the end of it.

"Do I look like I'm on duty to you? Can't you see I'm out with my partner or are you fucking blind? Piss off, I ain't signin' any damn autographs."

Izuku Midoriya:

Izuku totally understands how it feels to be a hopelessly obsessed fan, so he cuts his fans a lot of slack- sometimes too much. Though he rerfused to admit it at first, he has a lot of fangirls. and he's never the type to hurt someone's feelings on purpose, so he almost always stops for free autographs and photo ops. It can be sometimes frustrating how much of a people pleaser he can be, but rest assured, if he feels like you are getting too uncomfortable, or a fan is becoming too bold, he politely and swiftly ends the interaction.

"Hey, thanks for the support! I'd love to stay and chat, but it's actually my day off, so me and and my partner here are gonna move along. Hope to see you at the next event I attend, though!"

Tenya Iida:

Iida does truly enjoy interactions with his fanbase, but he considers that part of the job, and he's very strick about working off the clock. Because of this, he declines nearly every interaction if he's off duty. He absolutely has no tollerance for being flirted with, either, especially in front of you.

"I appreiciate your enthusiasm, but I and currently off duty and will not be indulging in fan interaction at this time! Please feel free to catch me anytime you see me in uniform! Good day!"

Shoto Todoroki:

Shoto doesn't beleive he has fans, genuinely. He can't quite wrap his head around having a fanbase, or being a fan of a celebrity in the first place, due to how he grew up. It tends to bewilder him when strangers approach him on the street wanting autographs, even more so when they try and put the moves on him. It just goes in one ear and out the other.

"You want an autograph? Why? Well, okay, I guess, but then we should get going. My partner and I are busy."

Eijiro Kirishima:

Kirishima tends to have a very healthy balance of pleasing fans and knowing when to say no. He loves giving out autographs, taking selfies, and giving hugs to all his fans. He especially loves interactions with child fans because it reminds him of how he idolized Crimson Riot, and he hopes to inspire someone like that too. He is, however, very aware when he's being flirted with or sexualized, and has no issue with promptly, albeit politely shutting it down.

"Alright, ladies, I understand someone as manly as me attracts a lot of attention, but my partner here is the only one I've got eyes for, and I ask that you please respect that."

Denki Kaminari:

Unfortunaely for you, Denki loves attention from fans, especially from his fangirls. He never turns down a signing or photo op, posing with girls however they want, even if it means something suggestive. To his credit, he will stop if you ask him to, but you still have to ask.

"Oh, what's that? Okay. Sorry ladies, we gotta run, but catch me at the next meet and greet!"

Hanta Sero:

Like Kirishima, Sero seems to have a pretty healthy mix of reactions. He loves his fans to death and would do most anything for them, especially kids. He lets his fangirls sexualize him to a small extent, knowing they probably don't totally realize he's a real person, but if they come to commenting on his body, or touching more than his shoulder, upper back, or elbows, he puts a stop to it.

"Now, that's enough, ladies. I appreiciate the admiration but even us celebrities have to set boundaries. It was nice meeting you, but it's actually my day off so me and my partner are gonna get, have a nice day!"

Minoru Mineta:

Like Denki, Mineta unfortunately lets his fangirls do whatever they want to him, short of carry him off. He actually does sometimes feel guilty for hurting your felings, however. He just doesn't realize how his flirting can affect you at times. He hopes you know that, even if he does flirt back, it's you who he truly loves!

"Awe, babe, I'm sorry! They don't even matter to me, I swear! It's you that I love, not some silly fangirl!"

Tokoyami Fumikage:

Tokoyami for the life of him does not know how to interact with his fans. He gets overwhelmed by crowds, but can usually handle interactions if they come one or two at a time. He typically caters to most requests, unless they happen to be personal questions, or something embarrassing. He doesn't like the idea of some fans being attracted to him, as he's only attracted to you, and he feels guilty beign someone's unrequited love. Due to this, he doesn't entertain any kind of flirting from any of his fans, no matter what gender.

"Sorry, I'm not comfrotable signing that for you, can you pick something else? My partner here is my only love, so it wouldn't be right of me to sign your photo with anything romantic."

Mezo Shoji:

It took a lot of convincing to get Shoji to understand that he had fans, let alone ones that were attracted to him. he's just not used to people other than you thinking of him that way, with his mutations and all. You actually had to show him all of the fan works of him online to get him to believe you. That being said, Shoji loves his fans, but he tends to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and the fact that the can forget he's a person, not a character. In the past, he's had issues with fangirls stroking his muscles during photo ops, squeezing his pecks, and one even tried to yank his mask down. Luckily since then, he has learned how to manage fan interactions much better.

"Hey, don't do that. I'm a person, just like you, please treat me how you'd want to be treated. And don't disrespect my partner by tyring something inappropriate right in front of them."

Mashiroa Ojiro:

Like Shoji, Ojiro had a hard time accepting he had fans, but took much less convincing on your part. What he really struggled with was coming to terms with some of his fans liking him romantically. He doesn't typically turn away fan interactions, even on his days off, but he does cut them shorter that he would if he were working. If someone tries anything inappropriate, he ends the interaction right there.

"Sorry, I don't appreciate what you just did. Besides, it's my day off and I'd like to spend it with my partner here. I forgive you though, and hope to see you again at a meet and greet in the future!"

Tamaki Amajiki:

Tamaki appreciates the thought of having fans, and when standing intront of a cheering crowd, he can soemtiems handle it, but he really hates fan interactions. He never knows how to handle them, and many end up with him just nervously standing by while a stranger takes pictures with him, many times without his permission. Many times, you have to step up from him and ask the person politely to move along, which he always appreiciates.

"T-Thanks, babe... They were making me really uncomfortable but I didn't wanna hurt their feelings..."

[steddieas-shegoes]

guilt fades, scars remain

written as part of @st-loveconfessions february kindness event for today: write a fic based on art! the moment I saw this absolutely stunning art by @stervrucht, I knew I had to get some words out. @runninriot also wrote something inspired by this art and it's just as stunning as the art itself, you can find that here!

rated m | 1031 words | cw: blood and injury | tags: eddie munson lives, steve rescues eddie, eddie has a crush on steve, pre-relationship, open ending but assume they're getting together

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The tears drip. The rain hits the roof. The sweat builds along his hairline.

Eddie’s alone. He’s scared. He’s sick of feeling pain everywhere.

“Eddie?”

The voice is back. He should be happy. Hearing Steve’s voice is a relief compared to what he’s been feeling for so long. He’s not even sure how long he’s been stuck here. Hours, days, weeks?

Years?

“Eddie.”

The voice is clear, but it’s always clear. Sometimes it’s far, sometimes it’s close. It sounds worried, but talking back to it doesn’t help.

He’s sure of only one thing: Steve Harrington’s voice is a balm on his nerves and patience alike. If he can’t have the real Steve saving him, he’s glad he at least has his voice in his ears.

Cool hands are covering his naked chest. It feels so nice, like an ice pack on an injury.

He supposes he does have an injury. Probably a lot if the shooting pains across his side and legs are anything to go off of.

“Eddie, hey.”

Eddie blinks. His vision focuses.

“There you go. Keep your eyes open. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry we kept you waiting so long.”

Eddie’s got tunnel vision, which is weird for a hallucination. Or maybe it’s not. He’s only done shrooms once and he barely even hallucinated before he passed out.

Eddie reaches one hand up to try to feel if Steve is real. He touches bare skin and he laughs.

“‘S fake.”

Steve’s got a lot of hair on his chest, he remembers from when he jumped into the lake. He remembers thinking how nice it must be to fall asleep on his chest, run his fingers through the soft hair there.

“What’s fake?” Steve asks.

An interactive hallucination is very strange, but it’s a nice distraction from the pain. It fades in and out like the intro and outro to songs. He’s gotta figure out how to put this into music.

“You,” he answers. There’s still no other voices and there’s no way Steve would rescue him alone. No one would let him come down here alone. “Me.”

“We’re not fake, Eddie. I knew we should’ve come back sooner. You’re fuckin’ delirious,” Steve sounds panicked now, and Eddie doesn’t want that. Hallucination Steve should be relaxed.

“Calm. Hurts, but calm.”

He’s being lifted up slowly and he’s sitting for the first time since the bats started trying to eat him. Feels a little weird, something internally screams, and then he realizes he’s actually screaming externally.

Steve’s trying to keep him calm and quiet, shushing him as he pulls him to his shoulder, hand tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s nice, smelling something that’s not the stench of the Upside Down or his own blood. Feeling something human where all he’s known is dirt and ash.

“It’s gonna hurt for a few minutes, but it’ll be worth it,” Steve’s saying in his ear.

Eddie raises an arm. It hurts. It’s not as bad as when he sat up, but it’s more pain than he should be feeling.

He must make a noise because Steve’s burying his nose into Eddie’s hair and it feels intimate in a way that doesn’t belong here. This place is broken, Eddie is broken, and Steve is stable.

“I’m gonna lift you up. Is anything broken?” Steve whispers against the side of his head.

Eddie hopes he remembers all of this. He hopes when he wakes up— if he wakes up— the first thought he has is about Steve touching him like this, making him feel alive and precious, worthy.

He must’ve answered Steve because he feels the ground fall out from under him and then searing pain in his side. Steve’s carrying him and he’s going to black out from the pain.

“Just a few minutes. Just hang on a few minutes. For me, Eddie,.”

Eddie can do anything in his dreams, so he hangs on for a while and then everything goes dark.

++++

“Eddie.”

The voice again.

It’s not clear this time, but he knows it’s Steve.

“Eddie, wake up.”

He blinks his eyes open and immediately closes them again, whining at the obnoxious bright light right in his eyes. If heaven is this bright, he’s not interested.

“Sorry. Let me turn those off.”

Steve’s voice is clearer now, sinking into his brain as the memories start to float back to him. Steve saved him. Steve showed up in the Upside Down shirtless and-

“Where was your shirt?” Eddie asks, voice raspy and trembling. He sounds as weak as he feels.

“My…shirt?” Steve asks.

“Y’were naked,” Eddie continues. “Nipples everywhere.”

Steve lets out a bark of a laugh and Eddie is going to combust. Making Steve laugh might be the best thing he’s ever done in his life…or death, if he’s dead.

“I was using it to stop the blood on your leg,” Steve explains. “It was still bleeding.”

He sounds…haunted.

“Did I die?”

Eddie focuses on Steve, the way he holds himself as if he’s in trouble, the way he won’t look directly at Eddie’s face. He’s guilty, but Eddie can’t imagine why.

“No. I don’t know how, but no.”

“You saved me.”

“I was almost too late.”

Eddie hums in protest. He’s too tired to argue, but he knows he’s right. Steve saved him. It doesn’t matter how long it took, or how many shirts were ruined in the process. He’s alive.

“C’mere,” Eddie whispers.

Steve steps closer. Eddie manages to grip his shirt, not tight, but enough for Steve to look down and then back up, finally settling on his face.

“Y’did good,” Eddie says. He closes his eyes hoping that’ll conserve energy to say what he needs to. “Thank you.”

“Eddie-“

“Sit. Sleep.”

He’s not sure if Steve listens because he’s already drifting back out of consciousness, but he can feel the weight of Steve’s hand in his and he’s pretty sure he’s not gonna let go.

When he wakes up, he still feels Steve’s hand in his.

His eyes flutter open to see Steve asleep in the chair next to his bed.

Shirt on, unfortunately.

[kimstills]

some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader

in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops

he’s a classic narcissist.

he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.

what’s my worst quality?

i have no sense of humor.

you don’t trust women as much as men.

you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.

you’re a bully.

you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.

but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.

you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.

from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.

you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.

you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.

you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.

it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.

what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.

derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.

what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.

he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.

spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.

you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.

but you knew that wasn’t enough.

so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.

the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.

at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.

he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.

“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.

you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.

aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.

you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”

aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.

“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.

“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”

your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.

but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”

you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”

“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.

you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.

“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”

everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.

but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.

once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.

and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”

aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.

he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”

you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”

“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.

you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”

“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”

this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.

no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.

[izzabela]

Short Glass of Water - Tomas Vrbada edition (HCs)

in which headcanons explain how Tomas would love on his lil' thang

a/n: since bi han's did so well... also inspired by real events (my bf)

ship[s]: tomas vrbada x fem!reader (headcanons)

warning(s): MDNI beyond a certain point, reader is between 5'-5'3, smut, spanking,

- Tomas is from Prague, Czechia, and their average height of men is 5'10. however.... this is my HC list. i think he drank a lot of milk, so he's 6'3 i can do whatever i want

- short!fem!reader and piggyback rides from Tomas. she feels like a koala on a tree, hugging tightly on her "log" as he carries her around whenever and wherever. sometimes, she'll even get fed little snacks

- short!fem!reader loves being little spoon, and Tomas doesn't complain about it either. he likes to have you fit in his chest perfectly, all curled up like a cat as you snore lightly in your sleep. bonus points for him if he rubs your belly

- short!fem!reader and Tomas's huge clothes that swallow her completely. the sleeves of his formal attire droop low and over her wrists, and Tomas smiles happily at the sight of her in his huge clothes ("darling, you do not fit in my clothes." "it's mine, and i don't care.")

- short!fem!reader getting constant, consistent head pats from the european man. yes, Bi Han and Kuai Liang give her head pats, but Tomas will always give it- no questions asked. you place his hand on your head? head pats. he finds you about to fall asleep? head pats + massages

- short!fem!reader and "kabedon". Tomas always finds a way to pin her against the wall, and doing hella cringe stuff as he flirts with you. he'll see her walking, minding her own business, then suddenly her arms are over her head as his head leans in. ("are you lost, baby girl?" he'll ask, and she'll be in a laughing fit)

- short!fem!reader, who always asks Tomas to help her reach stuff (because he loves the feeling of being able to help as well)

- short!fem!reader, who sometimes gets thrown over his shoulder when you become super hyperactive. it's embarrassing, but it calms you down so you can't really complain (if it aint broke, don't fix it)

MDNI =================

- Tomas, who will suffocate himself in her slick cunt as he eats her out. like a starved man, he ravishes her little peach. he'll 69 too, just so he can control your hips and keep your sensitive bud close to his mouth as he licks your sopping wet cunt up

- Tomas, who will fuck her standing up. hands firmly on her hips or ass, bouncing her up and down, feeling her gummy walls hold on tight on his cock as he fucks her

- Tomas, who just... manhandles her. perks of being so small, she doesn't really weigh much in his arms (i mean... he's thrown around men bigger), so being thrown around feels great

- Tomas, who loves to explore with his hands. he'll always make her remember too- "do you like when my hands are all around? hmm love?" (and she loves it too, her hands always guiding his to different parts of her body for him to squeeze and touch)

- Tomas, who marks your body without a care in the world. he has a thing for marking: hickies on your neck and back, spankings on both cheeks, little love bruises on your legs and belly- a bite mark somewhere

- Tomas, who pins her down always. remember the kabedon nonsense? yeah, he'll always mean it in the bedroom. wrists bound by his huge hands, making eye-contact with her as he methodically fucks her

- Tomas, who almost certainly has a breeding kink. "you'll look so pretty, so round and full" or "gonna give me big, strong heirs, love? be good 'n take all of me?" graphic descriptions of her carrying on his legacy (and she fuckin leaks for it)

- Tomas, who loves when you cock-warm him after the sex is done. he's press your hips down, the tip of his cock just kissing the entrance of your (full) womb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sigh... breeding kink. send tweet

see you all in the next fic!

[fuckyeahisawthat]

It must have been Jayce who found Viktor passed out at the lab, right? Like let's be real that stubborn mf is not dragging himself to a hospital if he can help it at all. So the most likely people to find him and make him get medical care would be either Jayce or Sky, and it's established that Sky's left for the night.

Whenever Jayce leaves Mel's bed, it doesn't wake Mel up, so I don't think it's the case that anyone came to her door looking for him if anyone would have even known to look for him there. Nah I think Jayce woke up and quietly left in the middle of the night and in the moment Mel thinks it's because he's a fuckboi who gets his dick wet and then bounces but I think actual possible scenarios include: (1) he got a brainwave in the middle of the night and both he and Viktor are used to popping by the lab at stupid o'clock whenever inspiration strikes; (2) woke up with a weird bad feeling of suddenly needing to check on Viktor, in that uncanny way you sometimes get a call from a relative and just Know it's bad news before you pick up the phone, and lately Viktor's been sleeping at the lab more than at home so that's where he goes first; or (3) especially if you think this is Jayce's first or close-to-first sexual experience, he's having some big confusing feelings and needs to take a walk about it, and he just ends up at the lab on autopilot and since he's there he's just gonna pop in and check on this one thing...

Whatever the exact sequence of events that is one hell of an emotional rollercoaster for one night.

[house-of-evenmoor]

la danse macabre

Hello everyone! I am Meg (she/her) and I am the author of The House of Evenmoor.

The House of Evenmoor is a work-in-progress interactive CYOA novel with mystery, horror, and psychological thriller/horror themes.

It is inspired greatly by the "classic" gothic literature of Edgar Allan Poe, Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, and H.P. Lovecraft, among others, as well as media such as Crimson Peak.

Please note that this story may contain certain elements, storylines, events, and topics that may be triggering to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. A full list will be available before reading.

Rated 18+ for language, death, murder, gore, etc.

You play an amnesiac who wakes up to find themselves locked in an 18th century manor belonging to the mysterious Evenmoor family. You find that there are 11 other people who are in the same situation you find yourself in. You remember nothing about yourself, except for a name, which you take on as your own.

With little to no memory between all of you and an excruciating headache that occurs when you try to remember, you all try to search around the house to find an exit. The doors and windows are all bolted shut and the glass panes are unbreakable. Outside is a thick wall of dense fog. You're not even able to tell if it's night or day, much less where you are.

As you investigate around the house, you start to uncover clues that reveal the real secrets behind the house and the Evenmoors. But it's not that simple as you and your companions are being actively hunted by a strange supernatural force and entity. As members of your group are picked off, more of the manor is slowly revealed and, while being investigated, more pieces of lost memories come back to you and others, as well as the knowledge of how to potentially leave the manor.

Will you be able to escape with your group unscathed and with your memories or will you become yet another permanent member of the House of Evenmoor?

Play as a male or female. Choose to be straight, gay, bisexual, or even asexual.

Customize your character including your name, appearance, and personality.

Romance 1 of 6 options or none at all.

Bond with the 11 other people trapped in the house with you and find out their stories.

Investigate the mysterious Evenmoor House. Uncover long lost clues and dark secrets.

Discover your long-lost memories and who you are.

Avoid catching the attention of the mysterious supernatural force or the strange entities that reside within the house.

Figure out the truth behind the Evermoors and their strange house.

Main Character - The Amnesiac Truthseeker (he/him) or (she/her)

This is you. You are 25 years old. You remember the least amount of your life before this. You are determined to uncover the truth of the manor and escape. You awake in and are staying in Room Number 6.

Jasper - The Reflective Guardian (he/him)

Jasper is the stoic and brooding person of the group. He is independent and has the tendency to go off and investigate on his own or go into something before everyone else. He often breaks up arguments in the house and seems to have combat experience. He is 27 years old. He is staying in Room Number 1. Romance Option

Vina - The Sensitive Overseer (she/her)

Vina is the caring and motherly person of the group. She doesn't like discord in the group and will leave the room if arguments start. She appears to have experience with medicine and patching up injuries. She is also particularly sensitive to different energies. She is 28 years old. She is staying in Room Number 2.

Edmund - The Aspiring Detective (he/him)

Edmund is the sometimes-bumbling but eager-to-help person of the group. He likes to think himself as a detective and is a bit too excited to search for clues. Despite his conflicting personality, he is actually rather observant and is an adept investigator. He is 26 years old. He is staying in Room Number 3. Romance Option

Beatrice - The Lovelorn Poet (she/her)

Beatrice is the melancholic and pessimistic person of the group. She has the tendency to view things through rose-colored glasses. She spends most of her time in the library or conservatory, composing her poems about heartbreak. She is 27 years old. She is staying in Room Number 4. Romance Option

Hugo - The Obstinate Maverick (he/him)

Hugo is the irritable and instigating person of the group. He is a realist and often picks fights due to his negative views. He prefers to be alone and generally always has a bad attitude. He isn't very helpful either. He appears to be pretty decent with fixing things, though. He is 25 years old. He is staying in Room Number 5.

Laurel - The Enigmatic Huntress (she/her)

Laurel is the surprisingly cheerful and bubbly person in the group. She is very open about what she remembers and what she doesn't. She's also a very friendly person, in general. She appears to have a decent amount of general knowledge. She is 24 years old. She is staying in Room Number 7. Romance Option

Alden - The Fateful Author (they/them)

Alden is the quiet but quick-witted person of the group. They don't speak much, but are happy to assist. They have a journal that they use to take notes in while they're researching. They're also usually found in the library. They are 29 years old. They are staying in Room Number 8.

Ian - The Expert Weaver (he/him)

Ian is the unspoken but de facto leader of the group. He is calm and level-headed. He does his best to keep everyone alive and well. He tends to spend his time near Vina. He appears to have decent experience with textiles and related subjects. He is 30 years old. He is staying in Room Number 9.

Willa - The Skeptic Historian (she/her)

Willa is the resident skeptic of the group. She is very book smart and has a pretty hard time believing in the stranger experiences in the group. She is very honest and is perhaps a bit too blunt. She tends to get into arguments too. She is 25 years old. She is staying in Room Number 10. Romance Option.

Pearl - The Romantic Heiress (she/her)

Pearl is the youngest person in the group and it shows. She's very idealistic and hopeful. She doesn't have many relevant skills or experience and is rather impulsive. She's also very open with what she remembers from before. She is 21 years old. She is staying in Room Number 11.

Cecill - The Tortured Artist (they/them)

Cecill is the prickly and cold person in the group. They're dramatic and aren't very helpful around the house. They spend a surprising amount of time with Beatrice. They also seem to have some kind of connection to the supernatural energies. They are 24 years old. They are staying in Room Number 12. Romance Option

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part One. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Okay! OKAY! SO! Do you all remember this, from Kinky/Do-Over-December back in the day? A Stu Macher sugar daddy AU I was fucking around with? This is set in that AU again, in said fic, I mentioned a little beach house weekend getaway with some breaking and entering Ghostface role play, this? Is that! Fully realized, or at least, partially realized for now. This thing is long, I have been working on it on and off for over a fucking YEAR! I started it shortly after I met Matt and Skeet last summer at fan expo, (can you guess why I was feeling inspired?) So because this is so long, (12.6K as of right now) I figured, why not break it up into two parts? And if you guys like it a lot, I might do some more! This is meant to be a three day weekend and this thing when it is done will be just the first night technically, so hit me up and let me know what you think!

PART TWO NOW HERE!

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Rating. Explict. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work Is Real Work. We Respect Sex Work. Talk Of Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Talk Of Threesome. Extreme Role Play. Mask Kink. Breaking And Entering. Masturbation. Chase. Predetor/Prey. Stalking. Voyeurism. Restrained Reader. Knife Kink. Dirty Talk. Threatening And Possessive Behavior.

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Initially, it wasn’t something you put much stock into. I mean, it was one of those things that sounded too good to be true, you make a profile, you meet up with men, if you click, and they like you, they pay you to spend time with you. They take you out on dates, and buy you things and sure, they fuck you, but still you could do that? Get paid money to be good company, attractive and a great sexual partner? You think you could at least attempt it. So you figured why not, after some serious online research and looking into other people who had been successful at sugaring you decided to give it a go. You find one of these sites, you spend a good two days on your profile before it goes live and then, you wait. 

When you got your first message, it was honestly pretty exciting, even though you never ended up meeting with said first person, it got you more sure about the process. After some more interest, you end up starting it in earnest. 

You meet up in a public location, the first meeting is always feeling each other out, the next one, if there is one, is getting to know each other better, and then the next is talking about expectations on both sides. You have some real duds here and there, but over time you cultivate some good and regular clients, you make friends on your sites of choice as well as while working, a lot of the guys who look for girls like you tend to keep similar company. Regularly you go to parties or work events or the like and come across another girl just like you and begin to form relationships with them, some becoming good friends because they got it, understood what you went through because they were in it themselves. 

The guys you saw were overall good, you didn’t even have a sexual relationship with all of them, not everyone who seeks out girls in your line of work even want that, a lot just want company, to be heard, or to have someone to show off, and you made for very good arm candy.

You’d been doing good, barely had to do any regular work, still had a part-time job, but most of your lifestyle was paid for by the guys who you saw and entertained and the quality of your life had improved massively at that. You had experience and a good reputation, so when a regular client dropped off, as they sometimes do, he moved too far to be able to continue to see you as he liked, you needed someone to fill the gap. In no particular rush, still fairly comfortable, you were able to be picky about who you accepted into your life. When you got the message from him, it wasn’t this huge defining moment, it was plain and perfectly average, but aren’t most things that end up being fantastic? 

After some regular chatting back and forth together, you and he agree to a meeting, lunch out at one of your favourite spots for testing out a new potential client. 

To say that your life totally changed after that lunch would be incorrect. It was more of a slow burn. Stu Macher was significantly older than you, attractive, had some job pertaining to finance, runs in the family apparently, and had money to toss around. You are not the first girl he’d had in an arrangement like this but, he told you, he has some particular qualities he is looking for in a long term set up. He was up front and honest, he wanted to see you more, he liked you, thought you and he got along well, and you thought the same, but he wanted to test you out. 

“Test me out how?” You asked, and he said, “Like we see each other for a few months and see how it goes, if this can be what I’ve been looking for.”

Interesting. You appreciate his candour if nothing else, you can get behind someone who is explicit and clear about what they want, especially in this respect. “Can I ask what it is that you are looking for?” 

He has this smile that is dripping in undeniable charm before he speaks, “No need to rush, right? Let’s have some fun and not stress.” You assumed that is what will tell him if this, and by extension you, are “right.” 

You could do that, could be fun and easy and go with the flow. What did you have to lose?

Stu is a fun guy, he works hard and is desperate to have a good time and de-stress, you take that want seriously and he takes notice. You do all manner of things together, mostly he plans dates, but you suggest some once you get more comfortable, and he likes that, it not being all up to him, more of a joint effort after a certain point. You clean up amazingly well, he can bring you to any event he wants to, and you slot right in. As for the physical aspect, you didn’t rush into it, but once you got there, it was kind of hard to stop. It became a very frequent thing, you did not mind at all, especially because it led to a slow shift, Stu wanted you around more and more, other clients got in the way of that. 

It was the afternoon, you’d been with Stu since the previous evening, you were trying to leave because you had to go get ready for an event someone else was taking you out to, and he didn’t want you to go. You were sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get your boots on, getting the rest of your outfit back on thus far had been a total fight, he was currently holding you. Arms were loose around your neck as he was leaning into you, “Come on, stay. Let me take you out to that dinner spot you like, the one that we hit up last month, the rooftop place that does the pasta thing-” 

You cut him off with a grin and a laugh, “Stu, I can’t, I have to go. I’ve already stayed way later than I was supposed to but I gotta go home, shower, change…” His arms had slipped down, hands rest on your arms near your elbows, he was laying some kisses along your neck, and you let out a groan with a roll of your eyes, “Knock it off.” You try to let the smile drop off your face as you complain, but you fail.

“I don’t know why you have to go.” He sighed, sounded like he was pouting, his head leaning against yours, and you tell him as you zip up your left boot, “Because I have other people to see.”

“See, that is what I mean! I don't know why you have to see anyone else.” 

You shake his arms off of you and stand up, you turn to see him, sheets are pooled around his hips, and he is shirtless looking up at you. It is a sight that is all too welcome, one you seriously wish you didn’t have to leave. Instead of telling him that, you say, “They help pay for my life, this is my job.”

It is true. Stu had become such a regular that in combination with him and your other clients you were able to quit that shitty part-time job, able to do this full-time. The past couple of months with him were great, you felt good about shifting gears to doing this all the time, thankful he was able to help make it happen.

He looks thoughtful, something is weighing on him, it is as if you can see him turning over the thought on his mind and as you are collecting your bag and coat he says, “What if I gave you more money?”

“What?”

You glance at him over your shoulder, and he says with a shrug, effectively repeating himself, “What if I give you more money? Then you wouldn’t have to go, could stay here with me.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you deadpan, “Stu, please. Don’t joke about that.”

“Who says I’m joking? Does it look like I’m joking?” He asked, and you respond, “You are grinning like you do when you are joking.” 

“What can I say? I just look better with a smile on my face.” You had to agree, but you don’t verbalize it. He speaks again before you can, “I mean it, though. What if I give you more, then you can have more time for me.”

Was he for real? “It would take like a lot more.”

“I have a lot more to give.” He challenged. Searching his eyes, you could tell he meant it. You said, “I need time to think on it.”

His reply is immediate. “Why?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, you don’t want to offend but you and he could be open, honest, and you appreciated that about your set-up, so in the interest of continuing it, you told him, “Because like you said this is meant to be a more casual thing right? You are testing me out, I don’t wanna burn bridges with great clients I copped before you came into the picture if you are gonna leave soon. What am I supposed to do if you bail out?”

It’s tense for a moment. You are staring at him, and he is staring back. It was true, what were you meant to do if he leaves? You could seriously struggle until you build up a good clientele base again. 

“You trust me so much.” He teases, the tone is light and affectionate, and you let your shoulders fall back down, happy he didn’t take serious offence to what you said, “Stu, I do, but seriously, this isn’t a choice that can be made quickly, give me some time to really think on it?”  

“No, no, you’re right. You are just being careful, it’s smart, responsible. I respect you for it.” His smile drops, he says it earnestly, and you believe him as he adds, “Think it over.”

You walk to him, bag over your shoulder, coat folded over your arm, your hand comes out and cups the side of his face, you lean down and kiss him. You linger in it, he lets it be what it is, doesn’t take the opportunity to try and entice you back into his bed, even though if he tried hard enough, he probably could. 

Once you pull back, you tell him, “I will.” You leave him slowly, fingers caressing him, your thumb passing over his cheekbone as you go. “See you Stu.” 

You didn’t bring it up the next time you saw him and neither did he, you think he was waiting you out, seeing when you’d say something. You think about it the whole time, but you just aren’t sure if it is right. Things aren’t weird between you both, if anything, it gets even better and so you at last initiate the conversation, or rather, you are going to, but he starts a different one with you first. 

“Are you busy on Sunday morning?” It was Thursday, you were having lunch, you tell him honestly, “As of right now, no. Why?” 

“I was thinking we could go out to brunch. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” 

He’d introduced you to lots of people, but usually it was when bumping into someone while out and about or at a party or some other thing he dragged you to. You had never been asked to some specific date to meet a particular person. You asked, “Oh, and who’s that?” 

You had heard a lot about Billy Loomis. Stu had told you a ton about him, shared old stories and made frequent mentions of the times they hung out over the past months you’ve been in Mr.Macher’s life, he even showed you some pictures. One evening a month into your arrangement, he showed you a picture from back when they were in high school. You take it from his fingers with a grin as you exclaim, “Oh my God! So you’ve just always been hot, huh?” 

You don’t comment on it at the time, but you thought his lifetime best friend who was sitting next to him on the fountain in the photograph was pretty hot too. When Stu posed the idea of you meeting him? You jumped at the opportunity, a passive thought at the back of your mind wondering if he aged as well as Stu had. 

It is quarter to eleven o’clock when you stride into the place with Stu. You have your hand on his arm, and you are caught up in something he is saying, looking up at him until you see his gaze catch something, original thought and sentence abandoned as his grin widens and calls out, “Hey man!” 

You follow where he is looking and eyes fall on who is unmistakably who you are here to see, yeah he was of course older than he was in the picture that you saw but no doubt it was him. He gets up as you both approach, a polite gesture and one that isn’t necessary, but the fact he did is telling, it resonates. You like that. 

He is also very obviously checking you out, you also like that. 

Seeing how Stu interacted with him first hand is a total treat. The greeting and how they touch shows a friendly familiarity, both leaning into the hug like it was the most natural thing either of them had ever done. You knew they were still in touch and spent time together regularly but witnessing it all in real time is a different story. They get along well, a clear history and investment between them both. He asked you questions and genuinely listened, seemed interested, he also responded to your questions too.

“When did you and Stu meet?” 

“He didn’t tell you?” He asked with a smile, and Stu cuts in, “She never asked!”

“What am I gonna do with you, man?” He sighs the sigh of the world-weary and put upon yet still with a smile on his face he next imparts, “Let me tell you how it happened since he apparently won’t.” 

They’d known each other since they were kids, well before high school, longer than you’d anticipated, lifetime best friends indeed. You thought it was nice, a friends forever kind of deal, the fact they’ve remained close so far into adulthood and still made time for each other was honestly kind of touching. The conversation even went into some stories of their friendship while they were growing up, excited recollections shared over crêpes, eggs benny, coffee and fresh fruit juice.

It was a good time, you were glad you agreed to come, and after you ate but before the check you excused yourself to the bathroom. 

As soon as you were out of earshot, Stu was staring at his friend as he asked, “Soooo?”

Billy looked away from your retreating form, and more in particular your ass, and instead back across the table to Stu, “Soooo what?”

He scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “So, what do you think of her?”

“Oh she’s great. I totally get what you mean when you’ve been talking about her, funny, cute, lively, a real good time.” He admits with a half shrug and Stu sighed, “But?”

It hangs for a moment before the response comes, “But I dunno if she is right for what we want to do.” 

“There it is, I fucking knew it!” A light hit of his hand on the table that made the dirty plates jostle slightly, a quiet rattle before he goes in on Billy. “Why isn’t she good enough?” Stu is leaning forward on his crossed arms as he presses, and Billy says, “It’s a serious thing, man, it isn’t for just anyone.”

“You think I don’t know that? I wouldn’t bring her if I didn’t think she was right. I’ve been seeing her for months and really, Billy, she is something else.” Stu insists, and Billy sighs, “So you keep saying.”

Lowering his voice next, he responds with,“You helped pick her out, remember? You liked her first, and I put in the effort to do this.” 

“Don’t act like it’s a chore, you and I both know you don’t hate the selection process or the ‘trying them out’ either. You’d be seeking out these kinds of arrangements even without my hand in it, this is just a bonus for us both, one that doesn’t need to be rushed into either.” Billy told him and Stu said, “I am not saying that at all, of course I like it dude, and I am not rushing this, I am just saying, what do we have to lose by trying this and by you trusting me?”

The small staring contest across the table lasts less than a tense silence filled minute before Billy speaks, seemingly surprised, “Shit, you really do think she’s right.”

“Duh, that’s what I’ve been saying. Listen to me, I’ve been careful, I’ve played, pushed the boundaries and I think she is the best we could ever hope for so.” The pause isn’t long, but it doesn’t need to be before the real question is posed. “Can I ask?” 

When you came back to the table, the brunch lasted less than twenty more minutes before the bill was paid and you and Stu parted ways from Billy. Warm goodbyes and waves, and promises to do this again sometime soon. 

Naturally, on the way back to his place he is asking what you thought of it all, and you admitted that you thought Billy was cool, enjoyed getting to know him and were looking forward to next time. That real question was asked with you spread out on his couch, him leaning over you, hand between your legs and two fingers curling just right inside you, his mouth lifts off your neck as he asks, “What are your feelings on the topic of threesomes?”

An indulgent smile crosses your face, a deep breath as you ask, “Was this what pushed you to introduce me to him today?”

Another flex of his fingers makes it hard to breathe normally, and he says, “Answer the question.” 

You nod shakily and tell him your stance on threesomes over the wet sound of his fingers working in and out of you, “Pro. Very, very pro.”

That answer was just what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t end there. “You’d be into it then, hm? You wanna fuck my best friend?” 

You were helpless to do anything else but moan your consent as you clenched around his fingers. “Yeah, you want it. Want to get split open from both ends, totally used.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact that you completely agreed with. You did. The more he talked about it, the better it sounded. More words shared, more dirty talk, hopeful ideas posed, and you were clearly eating every last bit of it up. Soon enough your legs were around his hips and he was as deep as could be, hands on your back and asking low in your ear, “We were thinking next weekend, you’d like that?” 

Holy shit, yes you would. 

It wasn’t just a threesome he, or rather, they wanted, it was a little more complex than that. He outlined what he wanted in full, when you weren’t actively fucking, and it was so clear, so precise, it was impressive. Clearly, they both had wanted it for a long while, he seems very excited when telling you about it, and it got you excited, the whole thing sounded so hot, you readily agreed, you trusted him, the plan was made. 

You could hardly contain your excitement for the next week, but soon enough you are in your rented car, driving yourself to where you’d been instructed to for this weekend’s plan. The drive is a good one, relaxing, it’s summer and mid-morning, the radio is playing and you are feeling good.

Upon arrival and getting out, you place your sunglasses on top of your head, staring up at the multi-level beach house you’d be residing in for the next three days, it’s massive for only one person and stunning, well maintained. Bags gotten from the back, you don’t waste time on the driveway and make your way inside. The outside didn’t even do it justice, looks even better inside, big windows, lots of natural light, the living room is comfortable, the kitchen is gorgeous, the back patio looks like the perfect place to have lunch later. 

You scope out the rest of the place, drop your bags in the bedroom upstairs, and you spend the rest of the day however you like. A trip into the nearby town, you get some good food, plan out what you are going to make for dinner, when you are back you have that lunch on the patio and the rest of your afternoon? After you change, you head down to the beach and spend it in the water and on the sand, relaxing with some music and a book. 

It’s hours and hours later. 

Dinner was fantastic, you’d made one of your favourites, indulged in dessert and drew a bath that you soaked in for a long time before finally pulling yourself out of it. Fluffy robe around yourself, you make your way back to the bedroom and take advantage of your very relaxed state at the moment, you hadn’t even bothered to tie the robe up, flopping back onto the bed. The robe was open, mostly just looped around your shoulders at this point, one hand slipping down your body and intent on working up a sweat, adding to the moisture on your already damp skin. 

You put on a very good show. 

They’d let you arrive first, but had been casually watching from afar for a while. They didn’t tell you when they’d arrive, they’d showed up when you had been cleaning up from lunch and then got changed for the beach. The pair had brought their bags in while you were in the water, hid them in the basement before really watching you, too far down the beach for you to recognize them, looking like just two average beach goers. This was fun, the casual stalking, the clear thought and intention, building anticipation for later that night. 

Stu opens the cooler upon his friends’ prompting, passing him the cold can, “How long have we wanted to do this?”

Billy exhaled as he accepted the beer, “Fuck man, years, don’t ask me how many, but years.”

A small beat before Stu asks, “Think it will live up to it?” 

“I’m trying to keep my expectations…” He hums as he cracks open the can, he takes a sip, leaves Stu hanging before finally saying, “-Realistic.”

“Come on, don’t act like you aren’t excited.” Stu nudged him before opening up his own can and Billy shifted in his comfortable beach chair, he was half hard watching you coming back out of the water, totally unaware of them. He was excited, really excited but again, talking about it and experiencing it are different, he isn’t trying to get his hopes up too high. 

“I’m into it, I swear, just again I dunno how it’s all gonna pan out.” 

“Your lack of faith is staggering.” Stu deadpans and Billy proceeds to defend himself, a gesture of his hands trying to communicate his point more strongly, “Listen, I am being open, I’m just not convinced.”

Receiving a harsh look, Stu’s mouth a flat unimpressed line is what makes Billy add on, “Yet.” 

Billy’s smile makes Stu smile too, and he says, “I’ll make you eat those words.” 

A small shake of his head as he brings up his drink for another sip,“I honestly hope you do.” 

The conversation on the beach was hours ago, their own shared meal eaten outside in the dark, hidden, watching you through the window as you sat at the table and indulged in what you made. After that, while you were bathing, they busied themselves with getting geared up in the garage, they’d stowed the outfits there earlier and had let themselves in through the side door. 

The excitement permeates the space between the pair. 

There is no talking at this moment, but both are thinking so loud, it was as if they were having a full-blown conversation, memories of previous times and feelings of exhilaration over what new stories to recall could be made tonight. Boot laces tied tightly, and robes over street clothes, masks on making breathing sound so much deeper and gloves pulled onto hands, over itchy fingers desperate to do all manner of depravity. 

It starts the way they always wanted it to, the only way that it should, with a phone call. 

Your phone on is on the nightstand, and it rings, your head lolls back, a look over, nose scrunching up wondering who is calling at this time. You roll onto your stomach, you scoop up your phone with one hand before rolling back over, you look at the screen, unknown number, but you shrug and answer it anyway, what have you got to lose? You swipe and bring the phone down to your ear and say, “Hello?”

You hear a laugh, small and a tad surprised, before the greeting is returned, “Hello there.” 

Curious, now why would the person on the other end be laughing? It prompts you to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.” Interesting, you ask, “Sorry, so, uh who is this?”

“Awfully inquisitive, aren’t you?” He asks, and you ask in turn, your hand that wasn't holding the phone is up in front of your face, you are looking at it as you speak, “Am I?”

“All you’ve said so far are questions, from greeting to now, can’t it just be enough that I am a…Curious party.” You spread your fingers, they are still wet from your earlier activities. You are still soaked, aching, throbbing, thighs rub together restlessly as you ask further, “A curious party?”

“Yeah, just someone looking for some good conversation on a lonely Friday night, desperate for someone interesting to talk to, and you seem very, very interesting.” 

You spread your fingers again, watch the creamy strings of arousal break apart from the action, you ask, “Really? I seem that interesting that I am your best option to spend your time with on a Friday evening?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Whoever he was asked, your hand comes down without thought, you suck the mess from your fingers, the taste is tangy and salty, thoroughly you, delightful. You pull your fingers back out of your mouth as you respond wetly into the phone, “Nothing terminal, it’s just a tad…”

You swallow it down and then finish your thought, “Pathetic.”

The voice sounds almost offended on the other end, shocked as he asks, “Pathetic?”

“Just a little! Like you don’t have a hot date or plans to see a movie, you are just, what? Cold calling strangers in hopes of someone to talk to? Kinda screams pathetic.” You are smiling, damp fingertips linger on your bottom lip and the voice speaks, once again curious as if still in disbelief over your assertion, “I’m pathetic?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Half-pathetic, is that better? C’mon, don’t get hung up on it, we were having fun, weren’t we?”

“Seems you were having more fun before I called.” He bites, and it’s your turn to laugh, “What makes you say that?” 

The question was genuine, how did he have any idea what you were up to before he called?

You got your answer very quickly, “As much as I am enjoying this conversation, I think you were enjoying having those fingers buried in that pretty little cunt a Hell of a lot more than this back and forth we are having at the moment.”

Heart drops, stomach tightens and your thighs still, hand dropping from your mouth, silence overtakes, how the fuck did he know that? 

It’s heavy for a moment until he breaks the quiet, “Oh you got nothing to say to that? Now who’s pathetic?” 

Your mouth opens and closes, tongue runs nervously over your lips as you try to find the words to respond, attempting to conjure up an adequate response but none springs to mind fast enough because he cuts in again, he sounds a mix between dangerously venomous and utterly amused, “You really are struggling! Did your brain leak outta your skull, hmm? No blood flow between the ears, it seems, it’s all pooled between your legs.” 

You sit up, mouth having fully fallen open, the words trying to soak into your grey matter as you bite back, “I have a brain!” 

The response from the receiver is sharper in tone than the edge of a fucking knife. “Act like it.” 

Holy fucking shit. 

You still have not spoken, so he continues to, “Because right now, you just seem totally fucking brain-dead, can’t even string a single sentence together. Is your mind elsewhere? Do you want to keep putting on a show for me instead?-”

He can see you. He has to, how else would he know what you have been up to, he is fucking talking, again,  “-I bet you do. Go on, go ahead, get those fingers back in that tight looking little hole, I’m waiting.”

You were not about to do this, were you? There was no fucking way that you would give in so easily, no you weren’t about to start masturbating for this freak on the phone, you were going to do something far more productive, track the son of a bitch. You are sitting up, looking around, the still wet hand closing your robe over your chest while your other hand held the phone to your ear. 

Get your body covered, get up off the bed, make sure the doors are locked, make it, so this freak can’t get in, go, go, go- his voice cuts through your train of thought once more, “Oh you are so cute! You are not going to find me that easily.” 

He might be right, but that doesn’t mean you were going to give up that easily, you are out of bed, robe is closed, and you are across the room, hand on the door knob, you twist, pull, the door opens, and it is revealed that you are in fact not actually alone in this beach house. 

“Surprise!” 

A tall figure clad in black hooded robes, a bleached bone white mask staring down at you, black eyes and mouth twisted open in a permanent scream, it makes you want to do that yourself. 

Instead, what you do is react quicker than you ever thought you could, you drop the phone, your hand comes up, and you move, slamming the door closed, one hand on the wood and the other still braced on the knob moves, you click the lock closed. Backing up, hands held up, bare foot brushing against the discarded cell abandoned on the floor as if on a cue the phone starting ringing when you made contact with it again, you jumped and vowed not to answer it. The pounding on the door is loud and incessant, he’s strong, he can get in here if he really wants to, and it sounds like he really fucking wants to. You think fast, you look around the room and make a choice that you can’t stay in here, you have a place you can go, but it’s risky, you have to be careful. 

You turn on your heel and move, abandon the door and still ringing phone and as you leave both sounds gets a little quieter, you enter into the ensuite bathroom, you close its door and lock it too before you hurry to the window. Cinching the robe’s belt tighter around your waist, you double knot it, and then you open the window, the breeze rolls in, fresh air on your face feels nice, soothing and calming, a slight balm to your currently frayed nerves and overactive mind, the smell of sea salt is strong. 

Fingers deftly roll your sleeves up, folding them, so they rest around your elbows, and then you set to your plan, you start to climb out the window. This place had a slanted roof, at a small angle, one you’d have to be cautious walking on, but you could walk on it all the same. You were going to hold on for dear life and make your way to the guest bedroom window, creep in quietly and then be able to hopefully get downstairs and out, away from this freak who wants to do God knows what to you. 

Doing this barefoot, is it smart or stupid? You find you can’t decide as you carefully step on the rough tiling, you have one hand on the top of the windowsill, and soon you are out into the open air, you keep one hand up, and slowly you start to move, hand braced on the roof, fingers passing over as you shuffle and move. You feel like a bit of a cliché’ as you keep thinking, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-” 

You manage to make it after about a minute of mindful manoeuvring, your hand grips onto the window’s ledge and your other hand forces the window open, thank the Lord it wasn’t locked. The want to throw yourself inside is immense, but you have to be careful, instead you ease yourself in, ears strain to listen, you don’t hear the pounding, did he give up? You have to check. You creep to the door and peek out down the hallway towards the bedroom you’d been staying in, the door is open, and he is nowhere to be found, shit. 

No point in lingering, you have to make a move, or he will find you, quick and quiet feet carry you through the door and to the top of the stairs, your hand grips the railing, and you are about to start your descent when your periphery catches it, a flash of black fabric. Your heart seizes, and you swallow thickly, stomach dropping you don’t wait to confirm it, sure your mind might be playing tricks on you in your heightened state of terror, but why risk it? 

Down you go. 

You think that outside is best, try to make it down the dark beach under the cover of the night to the next beach house, ask for help, the robe you wore is white and not exactly the best for sneaking around, “Beggars can’t be choosers-” you muse as you pad down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You make your way through and were headed to the doors at the back leading out to the patio, so close, you’d be outside again and could hopefully make your escape. 

You have sincere hope. 

That same hope was short-lived. It died when the door swung open before you could reach it, when that same figure from earlier in that same outfit stepped inside. Tall and imposing, the air carried in from outside smelt like the beach usually does, salt tinges the air, you can hear the faint crash of the waves outside. The fragile and glass like pane of your now clearly false sense of security, that bubble of unearned cocky confidence that you could do this, get out, unscathed? It burst, popped, lays shattered at your feet that were currently trying to go backwards again. You don’t turn, try to back up as the one your eyes are locked on is advancing, the door had been closed, it’s too quiet, black boots on tile as he approaches, and you back up into something solid, firm, warm. Eyes look up, head tips back, a second figure, another mask, ah yes, of course. 

There are two of them, after all. 

No chance to move, hands settle slowly on your shoulders, a squeeze that is firm and felt through the plush material of the robe. The feeling of another hand on you makes your head snap back down, leather clad fingers trace down your chin and neck, “You did better than I thought you would. You mighta got away with it if it was just him, if I wasn’t outside watching, I saw your little stunt on the roof. Impressive honestly, real brave.”

His hand is moving lower, fingers dipping into the split in the front of your robe and something in you snaps, you don’t want to give in or give up yet, so you, once again, move. You pushed, both hands land on his chest, and you shove him backwards, the action is fast, it catches him off guard, perhaps he was a little too confident himself, assuming his accomplice having his hands on you would root you to the spot in fear alone. It is not enough, the other man’s grip was loose and with an elbow thrown back right after, catching him in the stomach you are off the second his hands slip away. 

You go to the left and try to pick up the pace as fast as you possibly can, you can still make it out of this intact, but you didn’t account for a few things. The floors are tile transitioning to hardwood, you are barefoot and sweating from fear and adrenaline, and how far they can reach, the minor moment it takes to recover after partially slipping is more than enough to give them the edge they require. 

You had made it a whole five pathetic steps before the hand is locked firmly onto your arm and yanking you back, hitting into the solid wall of his chest. You feel the touch of cool plastic from the mask he wore on the side of your face as he breathes out, “Aweee, too fucking bad.” 

The grip is unyielding as you are moved against your will, dragged towards the kitchen table, you struggle the whole way even though it is futile, helpless to the point it pulls a laugh out of them. 

“Such a try-hard!” Croons the one hauling you over hardwood, your toes barely skimming the smooth surface as you try to kick and wriggle away, “It’s adorable.” Calls the other, you can hear his smile behind the mask, following behind at a leisurely pace. 

Soon you are right in front of the table, and you are turned, ass pressed against the corner, there are hands-on your wrists, holding your hands behind your back, the grip painfully tight by the figure behind you. Yet you don’t give in, not bothered by the unusual angle of the edge of the table that between you and him. The table is heavy and thick wood, even the smallest part of it combined with his hands make your continued attempt once again laughable, no way you can have enough strength or leverage to budge the piece of furniture. You are still struggling, but the other one steps forward, his hands lock onto your shoulders. “Knock it off.”

Held by them, the multiple points of contact, the support of the table, you are thoroughly fucked. The bright flame of hope of escape inside of you dims, but the part of you that is acutely aware that this is a game, that under these masks are the men you know, one who you trust immensely, Stu, and the other his best friend Billy, and that thought? Instead, makes arousal spark in terrors place. You can truly allow yourself to feel everything, can give yourself over and into the game they set up.

“Seriously, you’ve lost. Accept it honey.” The last word is spoken with a particular spine-chilling bite that allows a tinge of fear to remain, you let it fuel the want further. 

You were just in this position. Your eyes flick over the few feet where you were bracketed by them both, totally boxed in, you had not been able to get away, no match for them. One hand is off your shoulder, the leather clad hand is gripping your face, it makes your eyes snap back to the mask staring you down. “Your eyes should always be on us, understood?”

Which one was this? You thought you’d be able to tell because of all your experience with Stu, but you really cannot nail it down, you are intimately familiar with Stu’s touch and his voice, but they sound different, not at all familiar. Not in a bad way, the voice they’ve adopted somehow is more than working for you, deeper, smooth yet still rough around the edges; the timbre of it resonates deep within, makes you think if pressed to bone it could vibrate you from the inside out, shake what makes you, you from your very body, separate spirit from flesh.

You’d have to ask later how they were doing it. 

Right now, you respond to what he said, a small nod as you confess, “I understand.”

“Good.” He all but purrs as his hand pats your cheek, condescendingly. 

“Ready for us to start having some real fun? Make that lame little conversation we had on the phone seem dull in comparison?” The one behind questioned and the one in front seemed all too enthusiastic. 

“God yes.” Came the response, “Watching her on the beach earlier was a total tease and I could barely get a good look at her in bed, I need to see this body up close.” 

No chance to react to the knowledge they were watching you on the beach, they probably were stalking you all fucking day without you even realizing it. Hands grip and your robe is pulled open and pushed down, your arms are locked to your sides by how the material bunches and sits, your tits fully out and on display. 

“Look at her.” Gloved hands are on you, touching you, palming your chest, groping, thumbs pass over your nipples lightly making you inhale a hair harder. You feel the mask on your bared shoulder, the assailant behind you also taking in the view and the slow, easy touches of leather encased fingers on delicate flesh.

“She’s not made of glass, you won’t break her.” The encouragement makes the treatment get rougher, a pinch of the sensitive peaks makes you tense momentarily from the jolt of pain. 

They take notice. Amusement is back as the one currently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers says, “Oh, we are gonna be a lot rougher than that, but, don’t worry, you can take it.” 

As if to punctuate what he said and prove he can make good on his promise, one hand abandons toying with you and smacks your breast. The pain is different, sharper, it gets a bigger reaction, you squirm, body bows, and he hits again, another rock of your body, another hit lands. You exhale sharply, and you can feel the energy between the pair, it’s light and giddy. 

“Can’t wait to see all the reactions we can pull outta her. Get her on the table.” 

“In a minute.” Calls the one behind you. He lets go of your wrists, confident you are too distracted to do much of anything in the midst of your tit torture session. He unties the robe’s belt around your waist and pulls it behind, using it to bind your wrists, he twists and twines it, wraps it around, knots it tightly, with the thick material still bunched around your elbows, your arms are effectively useless. 

“There.” The one behind says before he hooks his fingers in the expert knots and pulls hard, your back hits the table, your tied hands rest in the small of your back, your weight on top of them will make them fall asleep you are sure of it as you groan. Between them both, you are adjusted, your head is hanging off the edge of the table, legs half hanging off the other side. You are exposed totally now, the robe is barely on and has fallen to the sides, neck, chest, stomach and lower all bare.

One of the chairs next to your head is pulled out, leg raises, black boot on the seat of the chair in plain view of you, and you watch as the knife on the ankle holster is removed. The knife is large, you’ve seen it before, in a movie once, the name flashes through your mind, bowie sounds correct. 

His boot moves, swings down, connects with the floor again and in a swift movement you feel the edge of cold steel against your throat. Your eyes go wide, a harsh swallow and the knife is held closer, if you attempted this action again you are sure that your skin would break, and you would bleed, a frightfully exciting concept. 

“This here is what we like to call incentive.” He all but purrs and the one at the other end of the table, currently standing between your legs, pipes up, “That’s a big word, you might want to spell it out.” 

A shared laugh, “Good point.” The flat of the blade taps, and he expounds, “This is here to make sure that you do every filthy, fucked up thing that crosses our minds, understood?” 

You had no option but to comply, to play nice and play the part of the good pliant fuck doll. 

The next move couldn’t be clearer to you. Eyes flick up and meet his hidden behind that mask, you tilt your chin up, holding your head with confidence, leaning into the blade, not shying away, not fearful and asked, “What’s first?”

[fanon-elio]

-*'Good Night, My Dear'*-

Von Lycaon x Gn!reader

Tag: Green Letter (Sfw)

A one shot inspired by Lycaon's trust events.

Warnings: None

Night has fallen over New Eridu, the suns departure having plunged the City into a familiar darkness. Even if no longer illuminated by the sun's rays, the city glows regardless, just as colorfull as during the day.

Similar, and yet completely different.

The colorfull lights of the buildings glittering like stars, while effectively drowning out the shine of the real ones. The only exception was the moon as it hung peacefully in the sky, its cold light basking whatever it touched in a melancholic light. It was Ironic that something so tranquil found its place right above a city that never once quieted down, always awake and thriving with life. Be it animals who also called the City their home, or people who were still out and about, either partying, or having just gotten off work.

A place where you had found yourself currently as you walked through the pedestrian area, your gaze being drawn to the skyline of the City time and time again. Work had exhausted, but never the less satisfied you, knowing that you had been very productive today.

And sometimes it's the small things that count.

You noticed a cat sitting just by the Kiosk, carefully observing you. Slowly you approached the small animal, kneeling down just a few steps away as not to frighten it, gently reaching out your index finger as if questioning it for its company. It sniffed your finger curiously before it approached you, rubbing its head against your hand. Slowly you scratched the cats chin, its puring being a welcome contrast to the sound of traffic or the chattering of other people. Soon a second cat joined much to your delight, as it approached to where you've been sitting. It reminded you of a good friend who always seemed to attract the attention of all the animals around him, as they approached in happy curiousity.

Something that happened quite often as Lycaon had told you, even though you always thought that the Wolf thiren himself was just as huggable. You and him had been friends for a long while now, having first met by chance on the street when you had helped him when a little girl had been awfully curious about his fluffy tail. You didn't know why you had felt obligated to step in, but he had definitely appreciated it.

After that both of you two had went your own ways until your paths would ultimately cross once again, only this time he was the one who had helped you out instead, when a scetchy vendor wanted to sell you fake jade pendants. As thanks you had invited him to a coffee, and later exchanged numbers when you realized how much you two had in common. After that you had met up with him regularely, finding great joy in eachothers company as you talked about whatever came to mind.

The cat in your lab flinched, seeming to have been spooked by a loud noise as it got up and ran away. You stood up and looked after it, suprised when the Wolf thiren you had thought about just now seemed to materialize right in front of you, his white fur almost gleeming like a ghost in the cold light of the moon as his gaze was cast into the sky.

You wondered what he was doing up so late, thinking that the issue could be his insomnia he struggled with from time to time as he had told you. His ear flicked, seeming to have noticed the sound of your shoes coming his way, and he turned to look at you. "It's an honor to meet you here so late" he responded, a tinge of surprise in his voice "hey Lycaon, what are you doing up so late?" You asked him, coming to a halt next to him "I had trouble sleeping, so I decieded to go on a little stroll" he responded "what about you? Are you out for a stroll at this hour of the night as well?" you scratched your neck sheepishly "actually I just got off work, I've done some overtime" you told him, and he pursed his lips "even though working hard is commendable, you also shouldn't overwork yourself" he gently scolded you, as you pondered of telling him the exact same thing. "I was just on my way home, but found myself captivated by the moon" you told him "so you're here for the moon, too" he asked you, and you nodded.

You two once again gazed into the sky above, a comfortable silence setteling between you two as you basked in eachothers company like you had done time and time again. It was only broken by Lycaon posing a question "Say, do you believe in fate?" a question that caught you off guard a little. "I do" you responded noting his lips as they formed a small smile "I do as well, just a moment earlier I had thought about you, and then suddenly you appeared" he said, an expression of suprise found its way onto your features "same here, I had thought about you as well" you responded, an answer he seemed to like.

He let out a small sigh "the moon does look beautiful tonight" his eye found the glowing sphere in the sky "You can get a spectacular view of the moon in New Eridu from this angle" he tells you "but everyone knows that the moon is actually battered and beaten... The moon is dead. What we see is its corpse" he spoke wistfully "someone I used to know told me once." His words sure surprised you, surely you hadn't taken him for the poetic type. But as your eyes followed his, noting the subtle otherwordly shimmer of the hollow that covered a part of the moon's surface, you couldn't help but agree. "It sounds kind of beautiful" you replied, and he chuckled a bit "your responses never fail to surprise... and amuse me" he fully turned to you, a question glittering behind his crimson iris "If I may be so bold to ask, would you accompany me somewhere? The view is beautiful at night, but it takes a little effort to get there" he asked offering you his hand, and you obliged "of course" you responded "thank you. If you'll please pardon my breach in etiquette." For a moment you fail to realize what is happening to you. "hold on tight" he spoke, low and gentle before a feeling of wheightlessness suddenly rushed up and you automatically screwed your eyes shut as you clung to Lycaon's shoulders, the gentle call of the night breeze rushing in your face.

When your eyes opened, you found yourself standing on solid ground again. "we are here" his voice sounded out before you finally saw where he had brought you.

"A rooftop?" You questioned. "I come here whenever I can't sleep, just to feel the breeze" he explained taking a few steps towards the edge "there is no scientific way to corrobarate this, but this place that makes me feel at ease. I always find it easier to sleep after coming here" you took a few steps towards him as you took in the view "you can walk around and take in the view... if you're not afraid of heights." Up here New Eridu stretched as far as the eye could see, the lights of the buildings glittering as they were reflected in the water. Just below you the night life was still buzzing with people enjoying their evening, while you enjoyed yours up here.

You looked at Lycaon, noticing that something seemed to be on his mind as he chewed on his bottom lip absentmindedly. "Are you alright? You seem bothered by something?" You ask him and he clears his throat, seemingly in embarassment "not necessarily bothered, however..." he trailed off seeming to internally brawl with himself "It is just-" if you didn't know any better you'd think that he was flustered by something "- Y/n, if I may be so bold to ask" he started "would you give me the honor of going out with me sometime" he asked, clearly surprising you. He stepped closer to you and put a hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and caring "You are incredibly important to me, and that's something that will never change" his voice held so much honesty and emotion, it made your heart swell with a strong new feeling.

"I absolutely want to go out with you" you beamed at him, and his tail started to wag "you are very important to me as well Lycaon, I greatly enjoy spending time with you" you said, a small blush creeping its way onto your face "with you more so than with any other" you confessed, his tail picking up speed. For some time you two just looked at eachother, once again just enjoying the moment beneath the moon. The faint rustling of Lycaon's tail filled the silence between you before you spoke up mirthfully "Oh look your tail is wagging" you exclaimed "and your ears were moving too" his gaze found yours before he once again cleared his throat "...you must be mistaken" he says, discreetly grabbing the traitorous appendage with the hand behind his back. You give him an amused smile, but chose not to further tease him about it. You two continued your conversation, setting the plans for your future date in stone as the hours melted away.

After enjoying the breeze on the rooftop for a bit with Lycaon, you miraculously start to feel tired. You yawned and rubbed your eye, which gained his attention "It's already very late. Let me take you home" he said, offering you his hand again, which you once again took. He gently picked you up again and held you close while you burried your face in the crook of his neck as the feeling of weightlessness once again washed over you. Lycaon jumped over the roofs, the metallic sound of his prosthetics filling your ears, and the closeness to him erasing your fear of the immense height. His grip on you was firm but gentle, and you knew that he'd never drop you.

As soon as the familiar sense of weightlessness wore off again, you were greeted by the entrance of your apartment. Your feet met solid ground again as Lycaon carefully put you down "have a pleasant night. I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight" he spoke "may you have a good night's rest. You deserve it after having worked so hard today" he finished, placing his right hand to his chest before leaning down to bow gracefully. You smile and took a step towards him, placing a small kiss on his cheek " I wish you a good night as well, and text me once you're home" you spoke and his gaze found yours, his tail picking up speed again. "I will, thank you y/n" you stepped into your apartment and gave him one last look, smiling at him before closing the door.

Now a smile found its way on Lycaon's features as well, tracing his cheek with his fingers before he turned on his heel and made his way back home.

He knew tonight, he would sleep very well.

-*'♡'*-

[kaiser1ns]

#. DIOSA FROM ORQUÍDEAS ꕥ @17020'S EVENT !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, togame jo, endo yamato

fluff. a celebration of self-love, empowerment, and confidence. he's always by your side, as if he's in a trance, spoiling you and always having you on his mind. he is more than willing to worship you like the goddess that you are.

i want to give my special thanks to the person to whom all this is due. amor, thank you for the wonderful opportunity, thank you for being such an amazing person, a real goddess! i hope you and everyone else, writing and reading, will enjoy the orquídeas shared with our favourites ♡

UMEMIYA HAJIME

The world could crumble, and the stars could fall from the sky, yet Umemiya Hajime would remain on his feet with a smile on his face and a bouquet in his hand. He'd walk through fire for you, dive into the deepest depths of the ocean, conquer every mountain, plant every seed, just to see his love grow and grow more for you. His eyes will never lose that warm flame, that spark, that burns only for you. You feel it in every glance, every whispered word and every touch. It's almost overwhelming, the intensity of his adoration, but you revel in it. You bask in the warmth of his affection, knowing that you are the center of his universe.

Hajime knows you better than you know yourself. He has memorized the way your eyes light up when you talk about your dreams and the subtle change in your voice when you speak of things that matter most to you. He knows what brings a smile to your face—a particular song, the scent of your favorite flowers, the quiet moments shared in the garden of Eden. He also understands what brings tears to your eyes, the memories that haunt you, and the fears that sometimes creep into your heart. But most importantly, he knows what makes you feel loved, cherished, and adored.

It might be daunting for some, the way he is always attuned to your every need, but for you, it's a comfort. You find joy in his attentiveness, in the way he anticipates your desires before you even voice them. His friends often tease him about how he spends all his time thinking of you, and how he seems to have little room for anything else in his life. But you find it amusing, a proof of the depth of his feelings. They don't understand the bond you share, the unspoken connection that ties your souls together.

You are used to getting what you want. The universe seems to have a way of bending to your will, of aligning itself with your desires. And in Umemiya Hajime, the universe has given you the greatest gift of all. He is the embodiment of love, the very essence of devotion. To you, he is more than a man; he is a force of nature, a manifestation of your deepest dreams and wishes.

Hajime treats you like a goddess, showering you with the kind of love that poets write about and artists strive to capture in their work. You see it in his eyes, a reverence that makes you feel like the most precious being in existence. He is your most fervent admirer. And you, in turn, are his goddess of love, the divine presence that completes him, inspires him and fuels his every action.

“You deserve the world, and I will spend my life giving it to you.”

You've faced heartache and pain in your life, moments that have left scars on your heart. But he has shown you what true love is. He has healed those wounds with his unwavering care, replacing sorrow with joy, and fear with security. With him, you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. His love is a salve, a gentle touch that soothes and mends, making you whole again.

Your belief in the law of attraction has never been stronger. You understand now that confidence and a strong sense of self can indeed bring about the desires of your heart. Hajime is living proof of this. With him, you feel empowered, as if the universe itself is conspiring to make your every dream come true.

Every moment with him is a treasure, a precious gem that you hold close to your heart. His love is a melody, a sweet, lingering tune that plays in the background of your life, making everything more beautiful, and more vibrant. You savor the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way he whispers your name with such tenderness. It's as if he has unlocked a part of you that you never knew existed, a part that is capable of experiencing the kind of love that transcends time and space.

As you rest your head against his chest, you think about how fortunate you are and how the universe, in its infinite wisdom, has brought you together, intertwining your fates in a dance of love and devotion. And as you gaze into Hajime's eyes, you know with absolute certainty that this is where you are meant to be — you have found your soulmate, your partner, your forever.

TOGAME JO

In his presence, you feel like you're dancing on clouds, weightless and free. The worries of the world dissolve as he takes your hand, pulling you closer. You gaze into his eyes, finding yourself reflected in their depths, and you know that he holds your heart in his hands.

Togame Jo’s love is like a long, beautiful dream, one that you never want to wake from. He tried to play it cool at first, but your presence ignites something within him. You’re so hot, so captivating, that he melts the moment he lays eyes on you. His smile, once reserved and composed, now breaks free with a joy that matches the intensity of his feelings.

You feel his heartbeat in the silence, a steady, rhythmic pulse that syncs with your own. The room fades away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. His wish was granted the moment he found you; the goddess he dreamt of is now in his arms, granting him the greatest gift of all – your love.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You close your eyes, savoring the sensation, knowing that nothing can stop this. Nothing could keep you apart. He’s giving you his best, his all, and you accept it with open arms. The goddess within you recognizes his devotion, his unwavering commitment. It’s the least you can do to bless him with your fondness, to hold him close and never let go.

"Look into my heart, you’ll find only love there, love for you."

You know he speaks the truth. His love is evident in every gesture, every touch. There’s no need for him to prove himself, for the sincerity in his eyes says it all. The world seems to pause when he wraps his arms around you, holding you as if to shield you from anything that might come between you.

It wasn’t mere chance that you were brought together. The universe had a hand in it, orchestrating your meeting long before you were even aware. Destiny had plans for the two of you, plans that have unfolded beautifully, leading you to this moment. You, the lonely goddess, have found your true companion in Togame, a man who cherishes you beyond measure.

Heaven itself seems to be smiling down on you, as if acknowledging the perfection of your union. You fell from the stars, and he has caught you every single time, never letting you slip away. The temptation to love and be loved by him is irresistible, a sweet promise of happiness that neither of you can deny. You are captivated by the way he loves you, with a devotion that feels both ancient and new, as if you are discovering each other all over again with every shared moment.

In his heart, there is only purness and awe for the goddess who chose him, the one who made him feel and do things in ways he never thought possible. His entire world revolves around this precious connection, a love that feels as eternal as the stars. As he holds you close, he silently thanks the universe for granting him this unparalleled blessing, knowing that every moment with you is like falling in love all over again.

ENDO YAMATO

Endo Yamato’s eyes always seem to find you first. The moment you step into a room, it’s as if the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. His gaze is intense yet tender, a silent vow that he’s yours—body, mind, and soul. He doesn’t need to say it; it’s an unspoken truth that’s engraved into every touch, every look, every breath you share.

From the very first moment he met you, he knew his life had changed forever. Before you, everything was simple, predictable, almost painfully dull. He was a prodigy, praised and admired by everyone around him. He excelled in everything he did—whether it was academics or sports—leaving people in awe of his talents. But that admiration felt hollow, devoid of any true emotion. He lived his life on autopilot, going through the motions because that’s what was expected of him. He never understood what it meant to feel until you came into his life.

You were different. You didn’t look at him with the same awe-struck eyes that everyone else did. You saw him as an equal, a person with strengths and flaws, not just a prodigy on a pedestal. And when you smiled at him, it wasn’t because of his accomplishments, but because you saw something in him that no one else did. You saw the real Yamato, the one who had never truly been loved for who he was.

It was at that moment, when you reached out to him, that he realized what he had been missing all his life. Love. True, deep, consuming love. And now, he can’t imagine a life without you. He doesn’t want to. You are his muse, his guiding star, the one who painted his world with colors he never knew existed. 

“ I have fallen for you and I’ll never stop loving you. Not in this life, not in the next.”

Yamato is utterly devoted to you, in a way that transcends mere affection. It’s as if he’s in a trance, completely enchanted by you. He follows you with an almost reverent devotion, always by your side, always ready to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re his queen, his goddess, and he’s more than willing to worship you as such. Every glance from you is a command, every smile a reward he strives to earn over and over again.

He never hesitates to spoil you, to shower you with affection and gifts, to do whatever it takes to see that smile on your face. He lives for your happiness, and when you’re pleased, it feels like the world is exactly as it should be. They say you must have enchanted him, that there’s something otherworldly about the way he adores you. But you know the truth. It’s love, pure and simple, a love so deep that it has reshaped his very soul.

And in return, you adore him just as fiercely. You love the way he looks at you as if you’re the center of his universe. You love the way he always knows exactly what you need, what you want. You love how he’s always there, he is someone you can always rely on. With him, you feel cherished, and treasured, as if you are the most important person in the world. And in his eyes, you are.

You can see how he’s grown, how he’s learned to love, to care, to feel, all because of you. You’ve opened his heart, and now it beats only for you. He’s like a butterfly, drawn irresistibly to your sweet scent, caught in the web of your love, and he doesn’t want to escape. He’s fallen for you, completely and irrevocably, and he couldn’t be happier.

He believes he was born to worship you, to be by your side, to love you with everything he has. And you, in turn, have learned to accept his devotion, to revel in it, because you know it’s what you deserve. You are his queen, his goddess, and he will spend the rest of his life proving that he is worthy of you. You are his everything, and he is yours.

It’s not about ego, or power, or control. It’s about love, a love that is deep and true, a love that binds you together in a way that nothing else can. You feel him shudder slightly in your arms, as you pull back just enough to look into his eyes and see tears welling up, but then he relaxes, the tension easing as he lets himself be vulnerable with you. He cries, not out of sadness, but out of pure, unadulterated joy. Еach tear is real, showing how it flows into the deepest oceans of his devotedness, which overflows into the waters of true love.

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