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nametakensff · 8 months

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Suggestible (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

The first fic of a few I have for these two because I am deeep into this shit now lol. Ended up at 4K!

H/arry, whilst working on the murder case in M/artinaise and ever so slowly piecing his identity together, notices an interesting reaction in K/im to his budding cold. I guess the first part of a series that will become increasingly NSFW, but for now mostly just alluding to it!

Based on an insane little piece of dialogue in the game where K/im suggests that other people sneezing makes him sneeze

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Content:

Future/hinted M/M, cold sneezes, sympathetic sneezes, H/arry has a latent sneezing fetish that he doesn't remember having yet, spray, stifles, sneezing into handkerchiefs, slight elements of voyeurism but only because H/arry is a confused mess lmao

CW: lots of drug and alcohol mentions, lots of self-hatred

NB - I guess please don't read if you plan on playing the game and want to go in with no prior knowledge - it doesn't really have any plot heavy spoilers but takes place within the story

(also also - decided to write this in 2nd person narrative to somewhat resemble the style of game play - it's not perfect but it was fun to try haha)

Minors DNI please!

Lieutenant Kitsuragi trails behind you as you jog your way across the empty boardwalk and towards the fishing village. The air is piercing and bitterly cold – you are starting to feel the effects of it as the salty air whips against your face. It has been snowing on and off for hours, and you are woefully underdressed. This has not been a good day for you – few new leads, endless dead ends. And a hangover. The hangover to end all hangovers. Not even the frigid winter weather can distract you from the dull thud of a lingering headache, painful pulses beating in time with your heart. It feels as though your brain is too swollen – or your skull is too tight.

Suddenly, you feel it – the familiar, fluttering sensation of a building sneeze. You have been a little under the weather ever since you awoke in your hotel room several days earlier, having no recollection of who you are and woefully bereft of substances to abuse. You had put any subsequent discomfort down to just that – the miserable lack of alcohol, nicotine and narcotics in your system. This tickle, however – it is something all of its own. You stop dead in your tracks, practically skidding to a stop as it crests. You have no hope of holding back the encroaching sneeze. Your mouth hangs open, a great yawn of irritation, before – at last – release.

It comes out sounding more like a desperate shriek than anything else; a few startled seagulls scatter, flying away in a maelstrom of confusion and feathers. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but the cold air, the breeze, and now the beginning of a miserable cold – it all proves too much for you. You take in another shuddering gasp before you’ve even recovered from the previous explosion and do it all over again.

“HAAAEEEIISHHHHhhh!!!”

There are no seagulls left to scatter this time, but you hardly notice for the way this sneeze, even more violent than the one before it, sends you flying forward and staggering on your feet. You manage to catch yourself before you fall face down on the sandy ground, panting slightly in the aftermath. It practically tore itself out of you, leaving your throat more than a little hoarse. Perhaps a drink would be just the thing to remedy your misery…

You’re shaken out of your alcoholic deliberation by a familiar, soft voice. Lieutenant Kitsuragi is resting a gentle, gloved hand on your shoulder, hovering next to your crouched form. His voice is as placid as always, but you can’t help but notice a slight hint of concern. You right yourself immediately and snuffle at the mess that’s threatening to overflow from your nose, already a bright shade of red from years of alcohol abuse and the biting cold of the beach.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor?”

The Lieutenant notices the thickness of the sound, a barely perceptible look of displeasure passing over his face. You see him reach into his pockets and pull out a large handkerchief – the very same you have seen him use before to cover his face as you performed a field autopsy together. He proffers it to you and you hesitate for just a moment - then your nose starts to run into your moustache. This prompts you to take it from him and snuffle into it apologetically. You realise this pathetic sniffling will do nothing to stem the flow – you surrender and blow your nose with as much conviction as you possibly can. The sound of it is devastatingly loud, almost as disruptive as the sneezes preceding it. You glance at Kim sheepishly from behind the material. If it’s as disgusting to Lieutenant Kitsuragi as it sounded to you, he doesn’t so much as flinch.

When you’re finished, you offer the soiled fabric back to him with an outstretched hand. He looks at it with mild dismay.

“You keep that, officer. I carry a spare with me at all times.”

Stupid. That was stupid of you. Why would you hand him a snot rag? You dismiss the thought before the negativity drags you down further into the already miserable grips of your hangover. But for whatever reason, you keep note of this new information regarding the handkerchiefs. It’s not as though this is out of the ordinary for Kim. He’s so organised and focused – a great cop. Not like you. Of course he would carry a spare. Moving on, you ask the lieutenant for his opinion of what you ought to do next.

“Hm…We should return to the Whirling-In-Rags. Try Klaasje again and see if she’s ready to discuss the murder in more detail.”

It sounds like a perfect idea to you. The wind is fiercely cold and you never did get round to buying a windbreaker. Your hangover is making it impossible to tell if the major discomfort you’re feeling is from the alcohol dissipating within your husk of a body, or the virus threatening to take hold of your sinuses. Either way, getting out of the cold is imperative.

You approach the vicinity of the Whirling-In-Rags Hostel – at last. Your chest burns. Normally, a brisk jog is nothing to you – if anything, it energises your ailing body after a particularly lengthy binge. But today, you feel miserably worn out. You pause for a moment, look towards the Lieutenant, and attempt to speak. You fail, nothing but a series of wheezing gasps issuing from between your lips, followed by an increasingly hacking cough. You buckle over your knees and continue to hack like the washed-up middle-aged man you know you are. Kim places a hand on your back - he seems worried.

“This isn’t good. You’re unwell, detective. Perhaps you should rest a while in your room?”

Something tells you this isn’t a suggestion exclusively for your own benefit. A perfunctory glance tells you that Lieutenant Kitsuragi is tired, and as miserably cold as you. He wouldn’t mind a break inside a warm building, thawing out over a cup of coffee. Nevertheless, you feel disappointment blooming in your chest. As if you weren’t already a pathetic excuse of a policeman - missing memory, decked head to toe in questionable clothes and with a penchant for drug and drink on the clock – you’re now so weak you can’t even handle a mild case of rhinovirus. Pathetic.

You stand upright in an attempt to signal that you are and always have been a perfect beacon of health. You tell the Lieutenant that time is of the essence; you’ve been working on this case for days and have no time for further setbacks. He acknowledges this with a small nod; he seems to appreciate this professional, business-like approach to the matter. He doesn’t say anything more but merely walks beside you as you stride towards the Whirling-In-Rags.

You barely manage to take a few steps before the tickle is upon you again. You tense your jaw and attempt to quell the sensation by taking in shallow, measured breaths, but no dice. In seconds, it tears its way out of you as before, echoing off the walls of the nearby buildings. It is so loud that you wonder if the scabs protesting outside of the Union can hear it over the sounds of their own angry chants. Again, you stumble forward under the force of it, feeling light-headed.

The Lieutenant reaches out to grip your shoulder, steadying you just in time. You wait and sniffle miserably in preparation for the following sneeze, lingering in the depths of your sinuses, but it never comes. You straighten up, blinking tears of effort from your tired eyes, when you become aware of a certain sensation. Kim’s hand squeezes your shoulder with a sudden flex. Could this be a gesture of affection? Reassurance? This is not the Lieutenant’s regular style. He is far too cool for that kind of thing.

You look over your shoulder in curiosity as the Lieutenant continues his grip, despite your having collected yourself. You can see that behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes are unfocused and heavy-lidded. His mouth hangs slightly open, and he is holding a fist – expectantly? – before his face. The expression is…familiar. You’d seen it before, though not on Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

As you furrow your brow in deep consideration, reaching for an explanation that only just manages to elude you, slight movement from Kim pulls you out of your thoughts. You watch as his head tilts back, stays there for a just a moment before he’s jerking forward into his gloved fist, pressing it against his nose and mouth. His features contract severely, moulding his ordinarily placid face into a twisted, almost angry and unrecognisable countenance. You feel his fingers flex again. His entire body shudders, and as it does so, you hear him utter a tiny sound.

“-hHdt’!”

You blink, still not putting two and two together. Maybe this amnesia was worse than you had initially assumed it to be. Was he – seizing? No. Of course not. You continue to watch in confusion as he seems to uncrumple with a gentle exhalation. You think he might be done, but no. Just as quickly as one breath is exhaled, a replacement is sucked back in hurriedly. You watch as he repeats the action, ducking forward into his fist again, more forcefully this time. His shoulders jump with the effort and his hand squeezes substantially harder against you.

“h’Ngxt-!! hh…”

That strange sound again – this time followed by an uncharacteristically shaky exhale. A moment later the Lieutenant straightens up and assumes his regular composure, releasing your shoulder as if nothing just happened. If you hadn’t watched this series of events unfold right in front of you, you’re sure you would have missed it altogether. He blinks several times as if to clear away tears. Still you have no idea what the fuck just happened – any remnants of the pained expression that cinched his features tight has vanished, leaving him to look as calm and collected as before. You stare at him, eyes roving over his face. This intrusive observation gives you the last bit of information you need to understand. His nostrils flare delicately as he indulges in a sniffle, moisture gathering around the irritated rims and glittering ever so slightly in the afternoon sunlight.

Had those been…sneezes? Those tiny little swallows of air?! You feel a grin spread across your face, any discomfort of your own forgotten for the moment. You bless him enthusiastically. Ignoring the inkling that tells you not to tease or cajole him, you also comment on how adorable the Lieutenant’s sneezes are. Like a kitten. A badass cop kitten.

He thanks you somewhat reluctantly, blatantly ignoring the kitten comment. He clearly wants you to move on from him and focus again on the case. You continue to make your way towards Whirling-In-Rags, but don’t miss out of the corner of your eye the sight of the Lieutenant covertly pinching his nostrils shut, before pulling down towards his septum. He is wiping the resultant moisture of those sneezes away with his gloved fingers. This realisation makes your heartbeat spike for just a moment. You choose to ignore this.

You walk into the establishment – the increasingly familiar sounds and sights greet you as you pass through the door. The Hardie boys are in their booths, an unwelcome fixture. You glance sidelong at them – Titus glares daggers back at you. You think you should puff up your chest and stare him down in a battle of warring machismo, but at last minute think otherwise. It would do nothing to repair your already abysmal lack of authority if you sneezed at him mid stand-off. You glance away. He smirks, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest, clearly enjoying this silent display of dominance. You get an all-consuming urge to spin around and put him in his place – but you feel shitty. Much too shitty. It would probably end with his fist in your face.

You approach the staircase leading to the bedrooms when you feel that familiar, irritating tickle blossoming anew in your sinuses. Not again, not here! Not in a busy room full of so many people. You want to maintain your cool cop image – sneezing is not a cool thing to do. You briefly think to yourself that Kim is cool, even when he sneezes - but it is a foolish thought. You’re not him. You fight to suppress the gasp that fills your lungs, fumbling in your jacket pocket for the handkerchief the lieutenant had given you – but you’re too late. Two huge sneezes rocket out of you, sending veritable clouds of spray across the base of the staircase. They practically break the sound barrier, two near identical “IIIIEEEESHHHHhhtt!!!” screams of irritation. Kim doesn’t steady you this time – you reach out and do that yourself with the help of the banister.

Jeers erupt from the Hardie boys across the cafeteria floor – you only just manage to hold back an embarrassed blush from creeping over your weary face. You have finally managed to extract the handkerchief from your pocket. You decide a honking performance will do very little to remedy this utter humiliation, dabbing softly at your aching nose instead. You begin to climb the stairs; a sordid walk of shame.

“That’s just what this establishment needs, following the hanging, bloated corpse – a biohazardous drunk anointing his plague unto us all.”

That snark came from Garte – the bartender. No, the Cafeteria Manager.

“Just ignore him.” Kim mutters close to your ear. You proceed to flip the bird at Garte instead. As you make your way upstairs, you swear you can hear a tiny gasp from behind you. Without the sensation of a hand gripping your shoulder and signalling the completion of a sneeze, you have to strain your ears to even confirm they happen at all.

“’Ngxt’ch! h’ddt’! Hh’Ggkt!!”

Those are definitely sneezes. Slightly louder than before, enough that you can hear the Lieutenant’s own soft voice blending in with the strained sound of them. Your stomach is suddenly alive with butterflies. In your mind’s eye you can visualise the way his face crumples with each of them – nostrils flaring outwards as he valiantly bites down against them. You are sure if you try to do the same, your head will explode. Or at the very least, an aneurism is a surefire possibility. You shudder at the thought of it. You want to offer a blessing to the Lieutenant, but based on the previous reception it received, you decide against it. This could be the start of a beautiful partnership – Harry’n’Kim, Du Bois and Kitsuragi. Disco Cop and Cool Cop. You can always brainstorm on your trademark duo name at a later date. Either way, you decide to ignore the Lieutenant’s strangled outburst. A soft exhalation behind you signals that he is finished – for now.

You reach the top of the stairs. With great dismay, you realise that perhaps for the first time in your life, you are experiencing firsthand the effect of all those years of chain smoking. The wheezing gasps bend you over for a moment. Lieutenant Kitsuragi stands nearby, just short of nervously hovering, waiting for you to recover. You finally catch your breath and stride as confidently as you can towards Klaasje’s room. You extend a fist to knock on the door when you feel the soft touch of Kim’s hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks. This has to be a new record. He has touched you on four separate occasions – all in a span of under thirty minutes.

“Perhaps you should take this opportunity to rest after all, detective.” Kim offers. You sense by the firmness of his voice that this is less of a gentle suggestion and more of a request. He smiles wryly.

“You are not very likely to get her to open up to you if you deafen her with your sneezing.”

Your stomach flips at hearing that word come out of his mouth. It is confusing but not entirely unpleasant. Whilst he doesn’t laugh, you can see the amusement held in the subtle quirking of his lips. You think for a moment that you should tell him your sneezes are the pinnacle of masculinity – ladies dig a huge, manly sneeze. You choose instead to sigh, practically deflating as any will to remain poised upright seeps out of you. You know he’s right. The filthy sheets of your bed beckon to you.

You agree with him and turn heel to your own room. He looks pleased – perhaps a little relieved. How disastrous did he think the interaction would have gone, had you proceeded? He turns to face you as you stand outside your respective doors.

“Don’t worry, detective. I will wake you up in a couple of hours, and we can resume our investigation. There is no point in making yourself ill.”

You nod. You are both about to enter your rooms when you feel it again. The tickle. It is persistent and increasingly difficult to control. You feel a gasp inflating your chest, helpless to do anything other than let the sensation overpower you. There is no time to even lift the handkerchief to your face. You do manage to turn away from the Lieutenant as the sneeze rips through you, baptising your own door with a trembling “aaAAAAEEEEGSHHHHhh!!!” A cloud of spray settles on the wood, droplets of spray shimmering under the harsh lighting. Gross.

“Bless you.”

A blessing. You feel relieved – and slightly giddy. Your stomach flips again. It is likely out of politeness, but the Lieutenant has at least not run for the hills in response to your disgusting display. You start to thank him when – oh, sweet confusion - he interrupts you with another sneeze of his own. He isn’t fast enough to bring a fist to his face this time. You can see every minute twitch of his facial muscles as he suppresses the sneeze through sheer willpower alone.

“Hh’Gnxt!! Huh’NGxtt!!”

The second sneeze follows immediately – his head dips twice in quick succession. That look of desperation suits him just fine, you think. You decide to abandon the thought as quickly as it forms. You are only partially successful in doing so. His hand reaches into the pocket of his trousers – he succeeds in removing the handkerchief in the duration of that second sneeze, you notice in great appreciation. You would never have managed to pull that off.

You watch as he raises the handkerchief before his face for a final sneeze. This one looks more irritable than the ones prior – the expression plastered on his face is openly more agonised than before. He pauses for what is likely only a second longer before the tickle reaches its apex, but that is more than enough time for another thought to cross your mind – one of an entirely salacious nature. You think that the face he is making resembles the sweet agony of another kind of release. You try to unthink it, but it’s too late – you’re absolutely, undeniably thinking it. The second passes. At last, the lieutenant smothers his final sneeze into the waiting folds of the handkerchief. It is considerably louder than before, even with the assistance of the fabric covering.

“hHh’nNGgxtt!!..chu…”

The soft vocal exclamation that rounds off the sneeze sounds weary, like it took a lot out of him. He sniffles briefly into the handkerchief, rubbing at his nose before tucking the cloth back into his pocket. Is it your imagination, or is said appendage starting to look a little reddened from the effort?

“Excuse me.” The Lieutenant mumbles, sounding uncomfortable. Embarrassed, perhaps?

You bless him before you remember to bite your tongue. Luckily, he accepts it with a soft “Thank you.” You watch as he removes his glasses and swipes at a stray tear rolling down his cheek. He replaces them just as quickly, giving you hardly any time to take in the sight of him without the thick frames. It is for a brief moment only, but the word ‘vulnerable’ comes to mind.

It dawns on you quite suddenly that he must be sneezing because you have infected him with your disgusting, no good germs. You ask him if this is the case, unable to hold back the shaking guilt as you voice your question-cum-self-abasement. He waves it off immediately.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, detective, I assure you. I’m fine.” He pauses for a moment, looking hesitant to say more. You say nothing. This awkward silence seems to prompt him to continue.

“Sometimes the power of suggestion is too much for me. When somebody sneezes in my vicinity, I find my body often wanting to do the same. And your sneezes are particularly…” He trails off for a moment, in want of an appropriate term.

Masculine? Sexy? Bad-ass? You go with the first one. He shakes his head gently.

“…Suggestible.” He finishes. You’re not quite sure you catch his drift, but you do recall that he had mentioned something like this before. ‘Dancing makes you dance like sneezing makes you sneeze’. He had said that, in the church – he had been enthusiastic to interject, and then immediately changed the subject. You had had no idea what he had meant at the time – not once had you ever heard anyone say anything even remotely similar. It had been easily forgotten. Until now.

You smirk. You hope it isn’t akin to ‘the expression’, but is happening nonetheless. You cannot help it. This. Is. Gold.

You manage to hold back from laughing, but what you cannot help is calling him adorable. For the second time that day.

“I’m a 43 year old RCM policeman. I am far from adorable, officer.” He states firmly, almost as if he is chiding you. You do not miss, however, the softness in his eyes and the momentary twitching of his lips into a tiny smile. You do laugh at that. Bad idea. The laugh quickly morphs into a painful, wrenching cough. Whatever light-hearted moment you’d been sharing, you have ruined it. Your throat burns with the effort. God, but you want a drink. And a smoke. Maybe some speed. You finish at last, wiping spittle from your lips with the back of your sleeve.

“Please rest, Harry. I will check up on you soon.”

He casts a final worried glance your way before nodding curtly. You watch as the door clicks shut behind him. After a moment, you make your way into your own room, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse onto the pile of twisted sheets. Far too tired to think about the past that eludes you, about the case, about any of it, your eyes start to slip shut.

But it is back. The tickle. You have no means of fighting it, and you’re not sure you want to. You sneeze, smothering it into your sheets at the last second.

“HHHRRMMMPPPSHHHh!!!”

You peer cautiously at the sheets. You have left a considerably large damp patch on the section that covered your mouth and nose. Gross – that should be your middle name. You feel disgusting, but before you can begin another spiral of self-deprecation the exhaustion overwhelms you entirely. A final thought passes through your mind as you surrender to it. Did the Lieutenant hear you?

Next door, settling into the chair at his desk, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi tenses at the sound of your sneeze. It was loud enough to be heard not only the next room over – indeed, anyone on the second floor may have been startled by it. His breath hitches, once, twice, before he is tipping forward into his gloved hands, steepled around his face. Depleted of energy from the prior onslaughts, he is unable to hold them back at all.

“-hh! Hck’tshuu! Hupt’Tshhht!! ‘TSCHH’uu!! hm...”

He glances in unmasked irritation at the damp speckling of moisture now adorning the palms of his gloves.

“Merde!” He grumbles under his breath. The Lieutenant pulls the gloves from his hands, pausing to scrub at his itchy nostrils with his knuckles for one indulgent moment, before resuming the paperwork he had failed to complete the night before. He hopes, for both your own sake and his, that once he wakes you your sneezing spell will have passed – due to a temporary chill and nothing more. Neither of you have the time for this absurdity. He sniffles once more and begins to write.

#nametakenfic #d/isco e/lysium #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz kink #snz fucker #snzblr #sneeze fucker

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emelinstriker · 21 days

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Hello, it’s me I’m back I hope your doing good

(I’m sorry I’m such a menace I have brain rot)

So question 1) we know that bad masters are obviously masters who are mean or cruel to the champions/servants but what is a good master? Like other than obviously being nice and respectful to the champions like for extreme example a master who is super sweet and doting and careing to the champions but an absolute monster to anyone outside the palace, or a master who isn’t rude to the champions but is very cold and distance to them but is a peaceful ruler.

Question 2) from what I’ve read in extreme cases (I could be wrong) sometimes they’ll just kill a current master and just wait for them for the reincarnation. I think that creates a really interesting dynamic because yes you have god like beings who would do everything for you and live like a royal in a palace but at end of the day your just a mortal a piece in a much bigger entity’s game (cough cough the judge) so I wonder if you were to not play along as in try and leave the palace and just go back to your own world and live out a normal life , im guessing that would mess with things because then a new master can’t reincarnate if your still alive so 👀

1 - I mean. technically there's also more points that could deem one a "bad" Master, such as being disrespectful towards previous or future Master. This also applies to what makes a "good" Master. It's not a black and white thing with how a Master is being labeled, especially with so many characters around them interacting on a more individual level. There's currently eight champions, who all treat and see the Reader differently based on their own experience with that current life their Master leads. They tend to be the ones the Readers tends to interact with the most, so of course they have a deeper understanding of what makes each of their Masters tick and whether or not their actions and behaviors are automatically good, bad, or unaligned.

2 - If the Reader wants to live a normal, they're free to do so. It would extend the waiting time for the next Master to appear, but if their current Master is happier being in their own home rather than the palace filled with their own servants, there's nothing wrong with it. Usually the champions try make sure their Master feels comfortable around them first before nudging them in the direction of moving into the palace with them. Though, if they're more comfortable living a normal life, their servants would just make sure they're safe and have one or two watching them from practically the shadows.

Usually that task goes to Wukong and Macaque for obvious ability reasons. Be it by them just making sure their Master isn't suffering, or disguising themselves as their pets. If their Master is already aware of them having servants and doesn't mind them, or even misses them, the boys wouldn't mind officially visiting them in their home. Or even moving in with their Master. Of course, not all would officially move in due to their responsibilities within the palace, but they would at least hang around their Master's home more often.

#eternal servants au #esau qna

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meguwumibear · 1 year

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okay wait im not done yet a continuation of these two pieces from Touya's pov

Touya Todoroki hasn’t gone by Dabi for a very long time. Not since he bit off more than he could chew chasing down some S-rank villain all on his own just to prove himself to his piece of shit dad and burned away most of his body.

It took less than a minute for his skin to catch and burn. He was painfully conscious for most of it. Black and bitter smoke blurred his vision, but he could still make out when the first bit of flesh liquified and sloughed from his bone like wax dripping down a candle.

He watched himself melt away until the pain was too much for him to bare, slipping slowly asleep.

Three years.

That’s how long he was in his medically induced coma.

Three fucking years.

And he remembers none of it. One thousand ninety-five whole ass days gone. Like he had simply blinked on top of that damn hill and somehow teleported himself into the future. It feels like no time has passed at all. It feels like a whole lifetime has passed him by.

The nurse nearly dropped dead when he opened his wet stinging eyes. He would later learn this was due to his tears, which weren’t very tear like at all—not the crystalline and clear droplets normal people cry—but thick crimson blood.

Back in school Touya took a theology class to piss off his father. Enji wanted him to take a chemistry or biology or even an anatomy elective to learn more about the properties of fire and how his own flames may impact his body, but Touya refused. He wrote a paper for the class about weeping statues, with a particular emphasis on the weeping Madonna who several decades ago no less than sixty people testified to have seen cry blood.

He wonders if the nurse who witnessed his own tears knows about the statue. He wonders if his pain and suffering bring him closer to his own version of holiness or enlightenment—whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Touya’s never been particularly spiritual, and he’s even less so these days.

His family was the first to stop using his moniker. Enji provides many updates to the public about Touya’s health. Figures no press is bad press, and practically goes on tour, accepting every opportunity to interview and tell the world that Touya is finally awake and in stable condition.

The public never seems to stop though. No matter how many times Enji emphasizes Touya’s government name, the headlines never change.

NUMBER THREE HERO DABI ALIVE AND WELL

PROHERO DABI UNDERGOING HIS THIRD RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY

RETIRED HERO DABI SPOTTED LEAVING PHYSICAL THERAPY IN A RAGE

He isn’t sure what’s worse: Enji’s insistence on reminding him who he is now, or the public’s insistence on reminding him that he was once something more. Both names seem to rub salt into his already itchy wound.

What’s in a name? Are they meaningful? Do they have value? Who is he without one?

“Dabi…please.”

He liked the way his name sounded on your lips. All breathy and desperate from kissing. Soft and safe like home. No one has ever used his name like that before. You’ve never said his name like that before.

Only Dabi isn’t his fucking name. Not anymore. He’s Touya to those closest to him, and, well, if you didn’t have the good sense to call him that, you must not be very close to him at all. Which, hey, that makes sense. You’re his perfect little brother’s perfect little girlfriend. You’re not his. Even if he wants you to be.

It’s stupid to text you, but he just can’t help himself. Especially once he learns the two of you have called things off. Shouto doesn’t say why but he knows his brother has seen the hickey he sucked into your neck. He thinks about telling him it was he who marked you.

He doesn’t.

He misses you. Even works up the courage to tell you. He isn’t sure why. Again, it’s not like the two of you were ever that close.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you don’t text him back, but it does. You always text him back, even if it’s just to tell him to fuck off. Surprise quickly gives way to anger, however if only because he has always masked his hurt with fury.

It burns through him just like everything else in his life. His flames and his fury all are he ever seems to have. They’re the only two constants in his life. He’s scorching. He’s on fire. He is Dabi and Touya both. He will never be Dabi or Touya again.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x reader

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gcldenchild · 3 months

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man, it's been a while since i posted here properly. it's been an enlightening past two days to say the least and it's all got me reflecting not only on my time here but also the future for this blog, my lore, etc. so...

have a pretty big dump under the cut. this'll be long, i feel like i have a lot to cover. i dunno who'll even read it, but i feel it's worth getting out there anyways.

so. yeah! been a while. been a LONG fucking while. im 21 now, turning 22 soon; almost 3 years have passed since i put this blog in its weird hiatus state. prior to that i was active a lot, writing a lot - i genuinely was extremely happy. in a way, i still am - but that only came after a very, VERY involved few years of consistent therapy appointments and learning to write for myself to somehow see my ideas through instead of pushing myself to be here.

so. should probably talk about that. i wont go into mega details because it's *done* and i don't want to bring a carcass to the surface, but i *do* want to give it a gravestone.

september and october of 2021 are the two months i can easily say are up there on some of the worst of my entire life. a lot of my own personal experience with my muse - with goldie - practically *died* during that span of time as a result of the things that happened. some of you might have an *idea* of things, and if so, please - don't bring it up, don't ask me or anyone else about it. i'm making this post for me, for my OWN catharsis. if people don't like that, *don't make it my problem.*

i don't fear people knowing, i just... i don't want to constantly have things be brought back and forth. im only just now realizing that what i went through *was not a singular experience*, and that it was a pattern of behavior that i wasn't *alone* in. for the longest time, i thought i was genuinely and completely alone in the fact that no one could really attest to what i went through except for one person who helped me through all of it alongside my own personal friendgroup separate from the rpc. turns out, i'm not, and that has been incredibly validating and actually has done a lot more for my confidence in the past 48 hours than i realized it could.

i hate the month of hell. i hate everything about it. i hate how it made me feel, how i couldnt do my internship without being constantly pressured to do something else for the sake of other people, how i was constantly made out to be someone who caused the problems and couldn't compromise or apologize when that really, really wasn't the whole truth. i've spent *years* in therapy just to affirm that i wasnt crazy and that it wasn't fair to treat me - a then 19 year old - as someone who couldn't make mistakes and was expected to just KNOW things and norms despite it being known that i *didnt* get things immediately. realizing i'm autistic has been a struggle that lasted *years* and if i'd known it then, it would have made me more receptive to how badly i was being treated instead of just sitting down and taking it and BLAMING myself for it. i hate that i was talked about to other people after the fact even though i explicitly kept my struggles out of talks with rpc friends.

i hate everything about what happened that year. and i hate that it ripped ed away from me for a good while and sent me into a horrible mental state that i took a really, REALLY long time to recover from - and even then, i'm still not 100%. i still have triggers that send me right back to that year. i still have things that remind me exactly of all the shit that happened. my health issues haven't gotten better since that month exacerbated them, but they haven't gotten worse - just a way of showcasing recovery, i guess.

2021, for better or for worse, broke me. it stole away my love for writing and my ability to do art for a while. i finally picked up the pieces and now they're melted back together, but there's nothing that'll change how badly it effected me and jeopardized one of my deepest mun-muse connections i'd ever had because i was accused of not being able to separate mun vs muse.

but i'm getting better. i'm being better. slowly but surely, i'm building my own personal safe space filled with people who will actually confront me for the things i do wrong *without* being afraid to even TALK to me. that wasn't easy, not by a longshot - but i'm happier like this. i'm thriving like this. because of the safe space i've built, i've been able to write *thousands* of words for fics for this very lore and all the things that came from it. i've been living my best life on my artblog, @aubodied , because i decided i was GOING to enjoy things without all of this bitterness being attached to it, because i'll probably *never* get accountability for what happened to me. i'm learning to live life without looking back on all of it.

it's been a wild ride. and now i don't feel like i have to isolate myself anymore now that i KNOW i'm not alone. so someday - i don't know if it will be soon or not, but SOMEDAY - i'll come back here. i'll start writing again with other people, actively. until then, i'm always open to be reached out to to talk or other things. i want to reconnect, and even though that'll be a long process, i WANT to restore the feeling of home i made for myself in this rpc.

so... hi. i'm evy. i also go by vee. i use he/they/she pronouns (strongly preferring he at the moment), and i'm proudly autistic and navigating the world with those lenses. i love videogames and i stream sometimes alongside doing personal art for my obsession with edling as a ship. i'd be happy to be your writing partner someday. i'd be happy just to make rpc friends again someday. 2021 was awful for me, but i've finally moved on without fear of being able to talk about this - now i want to thrive.

so thank you for listening to me, if you read this. i hope we can talk again soon. and remember - i'm always here if someone wants to reach out.

#{|❂|} the one beyond the gate | ooc.#sorry for the long post / vent. i think i needed to get this off my chest here for once #now i want to like... actually do things again.#so this hsould help with giving myself that boost to do it

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studioboner · 2 years

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Hi! I actually am wondering about trying watercolors for the first time but feel a little anxious haha.. how you go about drawing on the paper with confidence? Like, watercolor paper isn’t exactly cheap. I think I got the cheapest one avaible from Canson but still the anxiety is real… do you pick very light pencils like 2B so you can sketch veryyy lightly, or before sketching on the paper itself you do a planning sketch in another paper?

Im asking this cos I really love your art and it’s so cool that it’s mostly traditional! And the way you draw Tails is too adorable and consistent while being in your style, it always feels like you have confidence when you draw him.

oh i think this is gonna be a long one

all in all?i have the same anxiety as you. but i've confidense that i can make something good sometimes, but not that i will get it right every time. So i keep trying, but heres some stuff that helped

a warning though, i keep going on and on in this reply and can get pretty negative at times

my watercolor paper i use costs 2 dollars and has 20 sheets so that's 10 cents per sheet. which i feel helps with my anxiety... it's the canson multimedia block too, 140 msg .....

watercolor sketchbooks i'd find online were around 80 or more BRL, and then 20 BRL shipping.... that's 20 USD in total...

but a block of this plus getting it binded costs me 4 USD.....so i think that one [price] helps alot lol.....

as for the confidence.....

i've had enough time to do quite a bit of trad art, specifically ink and watercolors so im USED to the material and now quite as scared to "mess up" as when i first started it.... [hint, i still am] this is one example of a sketch page, they vary in size, and how "done" they are... i dont really worry too much about maintaining a rule of "everything in this sketchbook must be fully rendered " bc it ended up stunting my creativity

i did try the "sketch it onto a sketchbook and then pass it to watercolor paper" approach and tbh...? not really my thing... i've found that to me the first sketch always end up being looser than when i pass it on... i'm always more focused on getting the flow, composition and pose there than i am getting the right details or right lines or colors etc....

like this one, im more happy with the sketch, it's mroe dynamic, mroe fun

i DO sketch stuff on cheaper paper first when it's for trad art commissions though, just bc there i HAVE to make sure the client is getting what they asked

and i do use 2b pencils AND a "soft lead" mechanical pencil, btu tbh it's mroe bc of the feeling of it on paper than for the look of it...

here for example you can see the circle i used to have a basis on where tails would be.. i didnt erase it as i continued painting bc tbh it was just the sketch. i ended up liking it tho

i actually got quite MAD and angry at myself recently bc i noticed how much my sketches were looser in the sketchbooks when i did try the passing onto watercolors thing and i had a full on discussion with a fellow artist about daring myself to be bolder in the future, it has been working well

I sadly have to say though, that figuring out how to build confidense is more of a personal journey, and i cant claim that what worked for me [trusting my first sketch] would work for you.....

It's time, practice, trial and error....

OH, one thing though that DID help me. is:

-There's no art wasted, even if it doesnt turn out how you wanted it, you still learned something.

-Makins these personal art/fanarts isn't some school paper you have to hand it to be graded and then not get it back. You can re-do a piece as many times as you want until you get it right! I have quite a queue of pieces i plan on re-doing in the future bc i didnt like the first ones i did. im not perfect on confidence and i get scared of fully committing to drawings alot, many of them are pale not for choice bc bc i got scared of making my art too saturated and overworking it

i am about to get negative now so stop reading if you dont want to see that.

HERE NOW i's a alot of pieces i made that im unsatisfied with and plan on re-doing one day: too dull, simply way too watered

which led me to make THIS piece and do better colors

i hATE the way i did the lineart here. it's boring, the anatomies are wonky. it's a good concept but i didnt excecuted it as well as i wanted. but this piece has made me just go and try inking MORE so i could make up for it

which lead to this piece here eventually

This one here.... the colors look so muddy it just makes me SAD, bc i had been so scared to use high saturation that i went with the muddier colors by choice, if i had allowed myself to experiment i wonder how happier i'd be about it

which led me to make THIS piece with softer in value and more saturated colors

The colors and blending of this one are too soft and not bold enough for what i had envisioned it, i made it as fanart of a friends fic and it made me feel like i failed my friend and insulted her fic when i finished this. I dont think the piece looks bAD, mind you. i know it looks cute. and good even. But i had such high hopes for it.

which led me to make this one

THIS ONE OH MY GOD HOW I HATE IT. sonics expression is SO creepy hes like a horror movie weirdo , honestly not my best work when it comes to anatomy

so i've been doodlin sonic now and then as practice so that i could make this one eventually

The perspective on knuckles could be better and the characters look out of place on this scene, the background is ok

but in this piece here i was able to get a better harmony between colors, background and whatever sparse linework i threw in

Theres so many more haha but i'll stop for now....

Dont get me wrong i dont ACTUALLY think those pieces are HORRIBLE horrible,,,, i see the flaws in them yes, but theres always something i like too, and i know people like them, and that people wont throw away a whole piece over one small detail that in the end doesnt even affect the overall thing....

i've just been getting into the headspace of "ok. at least this one is done, onto the next"

plus the whole thing i told you of realising my first sketches are looser....

sorry im not too good at talking about this and my points arent very clear, i dont think this is going to be quite the help you expected it to be because the truth is that the struggle with your art is soemthign that doesnt go away no matter what skill you have...

at times to me it feels more like a mentality practice than skill, reasurring myself that it's ok to get it wrong and try again, etc etc....

i used to go to therapy and one of the things we talked about was my perfectionism, how i used to be so scared to mess up a piece. that i wouldnt even start, and wouldnt draw for months. this has been going for years now and hey i've gotten better.

but..... yeah im in the same boat as you.... except mine is no longer just about the paper quality!

Sorry this got so personal now, i hope that this hasnt killed your hopes on getting better at the anxiety. it does get way better haha... trying to force your brain to not judge yourself so harshly is half the battle in my opinion, the practice of drawing is the other half....

good luck i hope you have fun painting, i know i do, i love the process even when i dont like the result, good night and thank you for the question

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bigbroemen · 1 year

Text

沼・山・海・谷にいる numa・yama・umi・tani ni iru

４人の人たち・・・はやく yonin no hitotachi ・・・ hayaku

ココに・・・連れてきて・・・・ koko ni ・・・ tsuretekite ・・・・

---

沼 numa - swamp

山 yama - mountain

海 umi - sea, ocean

谷 tani - valley, canyon

に ni - location marker; in x に y, y is located in or on x

いる iru - to be (of animate objects); to exist

４人 yonin - 4 people, "yo" being 4 and "nin" being the counter for people

人 hito - person

たち tachi - pluralizing suffix, primarily used for people and other animate things w behaviors

ひやく hayaku - adverb conjugation of はやい hayai - fast, quick

ココ koko - here, this place

(again) に ni - location marker; in x に y, y is located in or on x

連れて tsurete - te-form conjugation of 連れる tsureru - to take (someone) with; to bring along. te-form conjugation is being used to tack this verb onto another to create a compound verb

きて kite - te-form conjugation of くる/来る kuru - to come, to arrive. te-form conjugation is being used to convey the verb as a request/instruction

---

swamp・mountain・sea・valley in

4 people... hurry

here... come and bring them

the text is split up in a way that makes the sentence read a little more broken, heres reading it again without a line by line translation

4 people in swamp・mountain・sea・valley...

hurry　here... come and bring them

---

お久しぶり its been a long time since ive done one of these!!!!! i stopped for a long time because 1. they take so long to put together and i think i was just burnt out, despite how much fun i was having, and 2. i hit a point where i was able to fly through a Lot of dialogue without having to stop and learn new pieces, so a good portion of dialogue in games started becoming a lot less like new adventures and a lot more mundane and normal feeling!! that has actually been a very special feeling and ive just been letting myself enjoy it, without jumping to make a breakdown post every 30 minutes

im definitely not at a point where i can play through games like final fantasy tactics, or like. 999. that would be the god mode of practicing japanese i think, thats like. you have to have a developed home-born and raised high school level understanding of japanese. like you dont NEED to be born and raised but thats the level of exposure you should expect to have in order to match that level

it HAS been a long time!!! i stopped playing games in japanese for a while. in the same way i got burnt out on making breakdown posts, i also got burnt out actively play-reading in japanese for at least a few months. at the time, it felt too wrong to just passively play-read for that period of time in retrospect though, i think thats wrong. input thats only getting passed through and not getting committed to memory still does more for your exposure than input that doesnt go in at all. i DID play a ton of kirby air ride in japanese in that period of time, so at least i like. REALLY know what まっすぐ means from all the drag race predictions

im playing majoras mask right now. i started playing on the switch in english and i got the energy to play in japanese, so i started a file on the computer (apparently the system language change doesnt work for the roms on the switch??). joeys playing fallout 4 a ton on the computer and im letting him since he gets less free time than i do and his work is a lot more physically taxing, so im a lot more ahead on the switch vs the computer (also the computer is just taking longer by virtue of me looking up words and shit in the jp dictionary every 20 seconds); i just got the lens of truth and the goron mask in english while im Still on the very first 3 day cycle in japanese

i dont know how many more of these ill be doing in the near future!! they DO take a long time. if i find a box of dialogue or boxes of dialogue that really Grab me, ill be here

#talk #japanese asobi #hi guys :3

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year

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ive tried to write women so many times but have failed to the point theres barely any female characters in my stories. and im very aware this is a flaw in my writing because i dont hang around women often and the only long term contact with a female i have is with my family members i dont know how to write female characters on a personal level because i can never relate to them. this sucks ass but correct me if im wrong i think its better to not write female characters at all than write a shitty possibly offensive one even if i dont realize it

Hi.

Okay, here's my take on what you're saying. I know for a fact that the most difficult things to write are things/situations/environments we know so little about. And it's even harder to get it right when it's a more sensitive thing, if yk what I mean. A huge perspective shift like this is definitely a challenge because men and women are quite different.

Here's the thing. I'm not trying to pressure you into writing them, but I'm telling you that even if you have problems with them now, doesn't mean you have to give up on writing them completely. If not writing them at all is your final decision, then that's still okay, still your call in the end, but if you do want to write them, it's very possible.

I know I write both male and female characters, but the first time I ever officially wrote smth that wasn't for school, it was with a female protag because ultimately, I see the world from the eyes of a woman. When I decided to write a male character for a more serious project, I realised I needed to research it. And lemme tell you that again, not every piece of advice in a writing help article is always applicable. It's largely based on the author's own personal experiences. They're more like tips than rules you must adhere to.

Please note that I've spent considerable time around men I'm close to in my family, I had male classmates and currently have a friend who's a guy, so that definitely helps. And it's completely understandable that you haven't spent enough time around women to grasp more about them Ig. My male characters are not exactly copy-paste of these men/boys either, but some of their traits and mannerisms may be connected.

And you not relating to them is completely okay. I'm not very likely to relate to parts of my male character's life that come with him being a man, but what I can relate to is what makes him human. There is definitely an overlap in several traits between men and women. For example, the way I would feel angry abt smth would be different from how a guy Ik would feel angry about the same thing. The key is simply to avoid bad cliches.

Again, I'm not trying to get you to write them if you really don't want to. Forcing yourself to write smth you don't want to definitely won't help, and won't create good pieces of writing. But just in case you wish to in the future, you can practice and research and test it out, and fun fact, part of it involves a little bit of winging it. I've done this for like genres/ideas I haven't tried before, and surprisingly it actually works. But, tbf, it's a lot more difficult when the issue at hand is the opposite gender.

And answering your last question, while it doesn't mean you must give up completely and you will never be able to do it, I can agree that no representation is better than a poorly represented character. Though, there is a chance you might be too harsh on yourself, since Idk exactly what any female characters you've written are like.

And about my reblog on that post abt writing women, Ig it was more aimed at people who've never tried or misrepresent women by applying a crap ton of harmful stereotypes to them. You seem to have made a genuine effort, so that's a pretty good thing.

Sorry for the long post, and thank you for the ask.

#the little gremlin answers #ask #not writing #natalia.txt

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patchworksoulstory · 1 year

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hey me again haha, im rereading the second part now and papyrus was listing the stuff he had in his dimensional boxes but stopped in the middle and im curious about what everyone has in their boxes now lol you dont have to answer if itd take too long though

I did it! (Just, keep in mind, some of this may change in the future, this is what I think makes sense at the current moment. XD)

[Incoming Text Wall]

It'd definitely be an ever-changing answer, I think, but I can give you some typical things for most of the main characters:

Papyrus generally likes to have several spaghetti dishes on hand, as well as any extra bone projects or weapons he's working on, and a book of something he's currently interested in (often puzzles or cooking). He also likes to keep practical things in there as well in case someone needs help, like a sewing/patching kit, face paint/makeup, and as things move more onto the surface, he'll start keeping a human medical kit as well, just in case. Something to write on and with are both important. He also usually has an extra set of clothes for Sans, boots for himself, and then, later, an extra coat for Frisk when it's cold.

Sans, on the other hand, doesn't keep much in the box for a while. He was perpetually losing/not having phones for a long time and he can teleport, so most of his stuff is usually stuffed into his pockets, ribcage, or left in his room. However, over time, he might keep whatever he's reading in there, as well as some prank items like whoopie cushions, and a few repair items and drinks. He often carries some sort of book or magazine about a seemingly unusual topic, but it'll turn out it's either something that lends itself well to wordplay or a topic someone close to him is really interested in.

Undyne switches her stuff out depending on whether she's on patrol or not. Work Undyne has a lot of utilitarian stuff in case someone gets in trouble out in Waterfall, like ropes, healing items, plants that act as floatation devices, etc etc. However, because of the current state of her gauntlets, it's sort of hard for her to actually use the phone while wearing them, so she keeps the floatation plants on the top slots so she can just mash the screen to get them out easily in an emergency. Otherwise, she typically keeps some headphones for music, some manga, drinks, and some extra weapons in storage. She often has strange or interesting items from the dump that she thinks someone she knows would get use out of.

Alphys's phone has all kinds of gadgets inside, like stuff to reattune devices, a laptop, sometimes power crystals, a magic screwdriver, and pieces of interesting scrap. A lot of her main projects are all kept in her workspace and so is her collection of manga and anime, so unless she's currently reading/watching them, those'll be at home. She also keeps earphones with her, chips, soda, and, since she’s been travelling to Snowdin more frequently, sometimes a scarf and mittens with warming magic inside of them. She’s kind of a homebody, though, and doesn’t really go out all that much without other people, so she typically packs pretty specifically for every thing she goes to.

Toriel is still getting used to carrying a phone with her. She only carries some emergency supplies inside. Everyone keeps reminding her she can put big things in the phone but she still forgets to do it sometimes and just packs a bag.

Asgore typically keeps a bunch of candy, a full tea set, a tin of cookies, and a box or two of tea (usually one of Undyne’s) inside his phone. Other things he likes to carry, he stashes in his cloak instead when he’s all dressed up in his King regalia, which is normally what he would wear out and about. He’s a little old fashioned as well and usually likes to just carry things.

Asriel mostly keeps food in his phone, usually packaged snacks, sometimes baked goods. He also likes to keep a handheld gaming system, and eventually some crystals and some seeds for specific purposes. Other than that, it changes a lot so its tough to nail down.

Frisk likes to keep a couple things close, usually practical stuff or things that can be useful for puzzles: a notepad or small journal, sometimes a sturdy stick, something with a narrow end like a screwdriver or a metal nail-file (or Papyrus’s utility knife), and the old CD player and headphones that she got from Undyne. A magic book or two will definitely join those regular things. She sometimes ends up collecting things that she finds that could be useful for putting other things together. She also usually carries some extra food, often fruit or canned tea, and sometimes also has a handheld gaming system like Asriel does. She used to always keep the scarf Papyrus made her in there when she wasn’t using it, but she gave it away. This will probably be replaced at some point.

Gaster just got a phone with a box and hasn’t used it much yet, chances are it’ll just be filled to the brim with books.

A few more magic tools will probably join everyone’s regular items in the future. And, of course, everyone can keep their gold in there easily, though that doesn’t take up the same kind of item slot or anything. :3

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aversiteespabilas · 1 month

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Ohh god, i can't just move on from that response im so back! I love info dumps, and boy do you deliver 😭🙏

Okay, the previous draft you had for the girls are fighting is so big brain, and honestly as a concept goes waaay too hard! But I see how it would look awkward in practice. You know, i really like that we can see Tetsu's face i think that was a good move, and it really does carry forward. I mean this is a moment that lowkey shaped the way Yusuke views Tetsuya and the Usagi at large (and arguably himself).

I kinda feel like your original idea still comes through though. I may be talking out of my ass, but hear me out: to Yusuke, Tetsuya exists as a living symbol of the Usagi. Having Tetsu literally stand above Yusuke places him in a weak submissive position, he's completely helpless and is being fully judged in what's probably one of his weakest moments. In Yusuke's mind, he IS being judged by the Usagi. We're literally watching Yusuke be turned away by THE symbol of the usagi.

and by his brother…

It's almost biblical dude. And i think THATS why the outside framing hits. This is an incredibly intimate moment that feels…wrong to watch. The scene around us is practically Begging the audience to turn our gaze and spare Yusuke the embarrassment of being watched. but we still choose to push those bushes aside and take a peek…

i think you really nailed the vibe. and this is the OPENING CHAPTER??? this goes criminally hard, Rhin need to be LOCKED UP for this 😭

and…about the paws.

I feel youuuuuuu, the rabbits are so fluffy and soff i neeeeed to touchhhh. Im in the corner of a room rocking back and forth with my arms around my knees thinking about fluffy bunnies.

I LOVELOVELOVE the rabbit shapesss, im gonna talk about it every time!!!! the paws, and their rabbit feet?? And their twitchy wittle wabbit noses 🥺🥺 their ears are probably sooo soft…just like…imagine how supple the skin under their ears are. I might explode.

two sexy furry-adjacent OCs getting dirty in the sheets? AWOOGA BARK BARK AWOOOOOO!!! and tetsu reaching for that cake?? honestly same, Toshi’s a baddie 😭🙏 but like…it's Genuinely a really pretty piece. i'm not educated enough on this stuff to really put what I'm thinking into words, but it really does look good, kudos!

IM LOVING H&H. I’m such a big fan of your stuff and i'm definitely on the H&H train 💗🙏

anyways, as always thank you for sharing ur rabbits (and hares) i love the RRCU and i'm having so much fun watching you and Rhin play with the dolls!! There's so much to talk about, and i wish i had the brain power to do so 😭 but trust me, I'm seeing everything you guys put out and I'm having a ball!!

- 😎

WAAAAHH I love your take on that chapter and the illustration!! You're so right. At the time, Kyouhei (their dad) was still holding the Usagi-sama title, so in a sense they were both being held against the wall, but as future Family Head, Tetsuya had to make a decision to stand for the Usagi name. Regardless, Yusuke had always seen Tetsuya as a role model more than anybody else, and being rejected by their father didn't hurt nearly as much as being rejected by him. They're brothers, but they're twenty years apart and Yusuke spent much of his childhood at his house and under his care, so Tetsuya has practically been a father to Yusuke too, more so than Kyouhei was. You might have noticed we actually tend to refer to Tetsu as his brother-dad sometimes hgfgjh you'll be seeing more of that in the latest Sword Lifted chapters.

And also I agree with you! Chapter 1 goes criminally hard, it's so so poignant and still makes me absolutely insane, it actually hasn't changed significantly from how it was back in December 2023 when it was first written and most family lore was in progress/very vague. Fun fact, what is now Chapter 1 of a 45-chapter fic was actually a little one shot thing Rhin had meant as a gift for me, after a sudden collective episode of insanity and me drawing their Apoc Miyamoto (now Yusuke) with my own rabbits Yuki and Jojo.

Check out my genuine reaction:

There was plenty of screaming, plenty of "OHMYGOSH THEY'RE RELATEEEDDDD", plenty of gushing about each other's characters, plenty of lore-adjusting and giggles about there being two Jotaros, and before we knew it we had a whole plot staring at us in the face. At the time, Rhin had been meaning to write something about their version of Usagi in the Good timeline, where he was not Leo's partner but Kenichi and Mariko's. All of that converged into the RRCU as we know it today!

The reason we're each taking care of a different "timeline" is merely that Leo's established partner in each of our canon verses (Run O' The Mill Verse and Covetverse) was different, as well as other stuff going on with the Hamatos, so in Run O' The Mill Rabbit, Leo ends up as Yuki's partner, whereas in Covet (the Good one), Leo's partner is a human named Juan, and in Soft Apoc (Covet's Bad one) Resistance Leader Leo is dating an older, rugged Yusuke who goes by the name of Miyamoto. That means in the Covetverse, and by extension SL, Yuki's romantic partner is Cooper the dog instead. It's an adjustment that just needed to happen, BUT! Save for a couple of events, the canon lore of the Usagi family remains consistent and exactly the same. In fact, everything that's been written so far in H&H and everything we know about Yusuke's life before meeting Yuki at the bar, including the Girls Are Fighting scene, happens in exactly the same way. The timeline thing adds a big element of fun because Rhin and I can both build from the same lore but still surprise each other about how things happen and do it our own way, hehehe~

Man, now you got me infodumping about timelines and stuff- It's a bit confusing, I know! But there's really not that much of a difference when it comes to the rabbits, they're the same characters in just slightly different circumstances. H&H will only diverge from SL's canon in its very last chapter, and I'll add a little note about it when that happens. ANYWAY! That was all to say that SL's chapter 1 went criminally hard for a REASON! It was meant to be a standalone thing to narratively cement the connection between all our characters, and I hold it forever like the freaking treasure it is!

Moving on to paws/feet, I LOVE drawing them, and in fact I love it so much that I keep drawing my characters barefoot even when it would make a lot more sense for them to wear shoes dfjghjhh in fact Rhin often writes them wearing and taking off their shoes and in my art I always gracefully ignore the shoes, apologies for that! Other times I'll put sandals on them, or otherwise shoes that leave their toesies free, which is honestly hilarious but also HAVE YOU WATCHED ZOOTOPIA?? They know what I'm talking about. We deserve to see their cute giant feet and I'll stop now before I get pointed at-

Actually hold on, that "tetsu reaching for that cake" made me cackle jdfgjdjkg HE DOES LOVE SWEETS okay I stop now

Always and forever thank you for the interest you show and for these wonderful comments, it TRULY makes us bounce off the roofs every time! I often find myself posting stuff and wondering "what Sunny will think of this one", hehehe

Have a delightful day, friend!! <3

#ask box #RRCU #under the sword lifted high

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almxndrekitou · 1 year

Text

hmhm

since this is my little garden filled with plants made of my vents and random thoughts i will talk now

ahem ahem

life has never been like this

life has never felt so distant and so close

i cant smudge off a certain watermelon flavored kiss and some sweaty handholding

i certainly can’t smudge off the pain of knowing there is possibly no security to my future

i cant erase the look on his face as he spoke to me about it all

it never felt like this

i feel so alive and so whimsically numb at the same time

my mind has started feeling like the entirety of the universe

i want to hold him close to my heart,

i miss him. i don’t know how much more i can take.

i wish i could i could do a job, earn money, feel good about myself, feel like im a valuable piece to this capitalist world

it all still feels like a fever dream, it feels like im in a deep sleep, perhaps im near the end of my existence and my delusions only have gotten worse since

because, how could any of this ever be happening?

it cant be true

it shouldnt be the reality of the situation no

maybe my denial only increases the intensity of it

and when im feeling like this i normally imagine his hand caressing my skin, it used to be so selfish before but now.

now it feels like his heart only beats for me and it sounds so narcissistic i hate it

but youd believe me if youd hear how fast his heart ran when i kissed his palm

i feel so overwhelmed

and all i can do is push myself to go forward and never look back because yesterday’s locked in yesterday and i have only today, i want to make the most of it

hold onto every moment

selfishly try to contain it all like sand in my palms

its so... weird

i dont know

im too young i think

i have experienced nothing

especially my childhood, i want the sweet days back

but where do i find them?

i feel horribly lost

and unstable

i promise ill get therapy as soon as this all gets better

and

i dont know

but

i like him a lot

and its him i like, not his company or hand or his warmth

i like him

way too much

why does he have to be so considerate all the time?

like jesus im not even that great why do you even want me

and he said to me that he doesnt care about any of that, he said that he wants my chaos

i wonder why

i wonder what he really likes in me

maybe my persistence

i keep coming back and i keep asking things that barely bother me

and maybe he likes some part of it

i cant even look him in the eyes sometimes, i feel all of my thoughts when i do

its kinda insane yeah

and

i feel so cosmic when i touch his scars and his bandages

suddenly all i feel is love and i want to hug him all the time

but thats not possible so im hugging a giant bear plushie

which is practically the same thing except i miss his yapping that i kinda like a lot

but seriously though, i have no one to talk to about stuff like this, mainly because everyone would reply with some sort of emotion that ill end up correlating it to the topic which i dont like doing but it happens subconsciously and ewwdhwdd

anyways so i was saying

sometimes or most of the time i like going on and on and on about things i like and no one listens, everyone reciprocates

he doesnt though

he just giggles with me and listens so well, he just stares at me and listens to me going on and on and on for hours about something

he cares for some reason

why does he do that

i hate him

fucking loser

i wanna kiss him on the mouth lol

#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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bad-knees · 2 years

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happenings / on my mind

1. i think i might have adhd, and i want to see someone about it to get a proper diagnosis. apparently it’s a common thing for trans women to uncover it once they get on hrt. plus my life has been dizzying with decisions / plans / wondering about this and that. my fears are about being seen as a drug seeker or a hypochondriac. But im tired of being scared about what people might think about me.

2. taking nudes, sending nudes to friends. not even sexual, just aesthetic, happy about my body, the curves and smooth. and the glow after working out.

3. thinking about ffs but i should wait. my work health insurance covers it so im wondering if i should speed run that. when the lighting’s right and im in the right mood, i kinda like the shape of my face. im looking more indian and i love it.

4. using femme voice a lot more, though im not so sure how femme it really is. mostly practice via vrchat. i should post to the trans voice subreddit for feedback.

5. trying to lose belly. cardio every day for 30-60min. also doing leg strength stuff because it helps with the knee pain. i want to lose belly fat so i can gain weight again and it goes to my chest and hips instead. also cardio is just good for my brain.

6. wanting to cook more, trying to at least. wanting to eat good food without having to resort to icky unhealthy restaurant food. want to eat more potatoes. want to learn how to make chicken curry.

7. told my boss im trans. it was awkward haha.

8. want to get the ball rolling with bottom surgery, given how long waitlists can be. though nervous since i won’t have anyone to take care of me, and i’ll probably have to miss a lot of work. well i can get the hair removal done whenever so might as well start that now. the hard part is timing it with potential ffs and when/how i want to come out of the closet more.

9. trying a todo list thing where i make a mind map of all the things i want to get done this week. break things down into smaller tasks and related things and unanswered questions and the reasons im procrastinating. it’s exploded of course, but feels good.

10. i keep trying to write songs but struggling to find words or feeling. well all i can do is listen and capture it when i find it.

11 . i think im done with drinking. one drink im bubbly and want to keep the feeling. two drinks and i get into a mood. three drinks and im horny and reckless. and it ruins the next day too.

12. being bi is dizzying. liking guys is easier. like how do you say “i wanna make out with you” to a girl friend and it not be weird?

13. i need to find a new book to read, fiction of course. things on my mind i want to explore: non-white feminism, trans women experiences, queerness in general, masochism kinks, femme sexuality, that thing people call womanhood, neurodivergence.

14. ill have to go to a christmas party with all my cousins on friday and ill have to pretend to be a straight man. or ill just be myself and let them think im the f-slur. whatever.

15. i want to buy a binder and a hole puncher to catalog mind maps and the ideas i have. so much living in random scraps of paper and in notebooks. i need to get better at developing ideas and connecting them. silly me, always sort of starting from scratch.

16. it’s hard to say what i really want. like what i want the future to look like. i see glimpses and try to piece together a vision. though so much is outside my control. and i get scared of wanting too much and letting myself down. today i see a house somewhere quiet, cuddling in the backyard till the mosquitos piss us off, romantic sex and i love you’s, a big bookshelf full of names I’ve never heard before, letters and calendars and a very full life.

#blog

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heartburriedinvenice · 2 years

Text

Next Week

( steve harrington x reader )

in which you just want to rent Back to the Future but every week it has already been rented and every time you come back to check Steve Harrington says it will be back. . . next week and for some reason, you still believe him.

in which two lovesick idiots have to make stupid excuses to talk to each other.

content warning mild cursing, steve being an idiot, the reader being an idiot, robin being the only smart one, and steve's awful description of the back to the future plot

a / n i love steve harrington so here's this... the last piece of happiness on this account before i drop so much angst with no mercy ( and then after that a robin fluff piece ) i believe you can survive this war but before that happens enjoy this mess!!

You had noticed a few things about the video store in Hawkins, Indiana. One, Keith didn’t work there alone anymore. Two, the cute boy working there always made your hands unnecessarily sweaty. And three, they never seemed to have the movies you were looking for.

It started a few weeks ago. Your sister wanted to watch a movie that weekend after missing the showing of Back to the Future due to the unfortunate mall fire that knocked out a whole block of town. So the two of your drove to the gas station, bought a bunch of junk food, and headed to the video store. Though as soon as you walked in, you noticed the idiot who would quiz you for around twenty minutes on every movie you returned, and no you weren’t exaggerating, your sister had timed it, was no longer at the counter. But instead, the fallen king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, him and his hair in all its glory. You weren’t sure how his dethroning as king resulted in him getting stuck working at the video store by the arcade, for half a second you question if it was even him or maybe some weirdly similar look alike. But no, no it was Steve, you would know it anywhere. And just like any day, you had made your way to the counter, smiling at the boy who almost immediately smiled back upon meeting your gaze.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey,” he replied, reciting the lines Keith had gotten him to memorize after repeating them to him probably fifty times. “I’m Steve, welcome to Hawkins Family Video, where we bring movies to you, what can I do for you today?”

“I know who you are, Steve” you said, though immediately you wished you could turn back time find a time machine and jump backwards at how creepy it sounded. “Shit, I didn’t mean that to sound so creepy! Im sorry, I just, we went to the same high school. Well of course we went to the same high school but you know-”

“No! No, it’s good,” Steve replied, slightly stumbling over his words. “I, uh, I didn't think you were being creepy. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, yeah, I was looking for Back to the Future,” you replied.

“Back to the Future’ huh?” He replied.

“Yeah,I didn’t really get to see it after the whole mall burning down and all, you know?”

He only nodded, you noticing him visibly tensing up at you comment. Passing it off as nothing but it being a stranger memory, a tragedy for a small town like Hawkins, something that didn’t happen often. It was weird, the tiniest bit unsettling.

“If i'm being honest, the movie was pretty meh. Like just okay. Pretty low on the movie scale for me. I got to see it, it was a little confusing,” Steve explained, his voice slightly dropping into a whisper. “Not to spoil anything, but I’m pretty sure, the mom in that movie is trying to bang her son...so…”

You stared at him for a second, waiting for him to say he was joking. But nothing came, only silence as you stared back at him with wide eyes, your voice dropping into a whisper to match his.

“Wait, you aren’t joking?” you asked.

“I mean, I work at a video store, would I be steering you wrong?” He asked.

“There’s no way! No way!” You practically yelled. “That’s messed up, they played that here? How did the PTA at the schools not go insane?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say! No one believes me,” he agreed.

“I gotta see this movie,” you said, a quiet laugh escaping at the end of your words.

“Ill go ahead and find that for you,” he offered as he walked backwards towards the back room, bumping into the door in the process. “I’ll be right back.”

And he didn’t lie, not long after the boy headed back out of the backroom, you quickly realizing he was in fact empty handed.

“I’m sorry, just realized someone came in earlier and rented our last copy,” he tried to explain, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh,”you replied, slightly deflating after the anticipation built up for the movie. “That’s okay, I’ll just rent something-.”

“But you can come back next week!” He interrupted, practically yelling. “It will be back next week…”

“Yeah? Okay. Cool, great! Sounds like a plan,” you replied with a slight nod. “Guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Yep, next week, see you then,” he replied, his words coming out in an awkward kind of manner.

With a quick smile at the boy, you made your way towards the door, not even noticing that your hands were starting to become extremely clammy. Only stopped by the sound of Steve’s voice once again.

“Hey! What’s your name?” He asked. “You know, so I can keep track of who wants the movie next?”

And so you gave him your name, writing it down on a piece of paper because of his claimed horrible memory watching as he tucked it into his pocket as you exited yhe store. A smile glued to your face and a giddy somewhat nauseating feeling in your stomach as you made your way back into the car, almost forgetting the fact your sister was waiting for you. Scratch that, completely forgetting your sister was waiting for you.

“Did you get the movie?” She asked, practically groaning the sentence out.

“What?” You asked, buckling your seatbelt.

“The movie” She replied like it was the most obvious thing. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Shit, yeah, that’s why we're here! Um, they didn’t have it, we'll have to watch it next week,” you replied nonchalantly, as something that once would have annoyed you had zero effect on your mood. “The boy who worked there said it would be back next week, wrote my name down and everything.”

The younger girl let out another groan as she dramatically collapsed back into her seat.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to watch the fucking ‘Outsiders’ with you again.”

And It went on for a few weeks, you making your way to the video store every Friday night with the same answer from the boy. One would question the validity of his statement, that it would be there next week, your sister had called you a fucking idiot. Her newfound revaluation that she could say a curse word without being struck by lightning completely shifting her vocabulary.

One night you even asked for a different movie you were pretty sure no one would be watching, but of course it just so happened to have gotten rented. You didn’t mind though all that much, though you would never admit it out loud, you didn’t mind it at all. Because each time you walked in you were greeted by Steve Harrington and some sort of memorable conversation. Steve Harrington. Who was actually pretty nice company, no matter how much of a dork you had realized he was. And no matter how many times you told yourself to just watch something at your house or borrow something from your friend, you continued to drive up to the same store, only to be given the same answer. And no matter how many times your sister had called you oblivious, you ignored the metaphorical butterflies that attacked the walls of your stomach. Maybe it was those conversations, the conversations that caused you to stay way longer than you intended? The conversations that ranged from joking about Keith to talking about stuff that left the two of you there up until closing. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help yourself from coming back.

Just like any other Friday, you parked your car outside of the store, your sister no longer tagging along as she knew you weren’t getting the movie but instead a hour long conversation she would have to sit through in pure boredom. Opening the door, the little bell rang, and you were immediately caught off guard by someone else at the counter. There stood a girl, close to your age from what you could tell. Her shoulder length blonde hair was covering her face as she looked at some book that laid on the counter. Hesitantly, you made your way to the counter, feeling somewhat out of place without having the perfect haired, idiot staring at you. Like you were in a whole other building.

“Hi,” you stated, the blonde haired girl looking up from her book. Feeling as if this was somehow your first time stopping in.

“Hello,” the girl replied, gaze back on her book as she flipped to the next page.

“I come in here every week looking for Back to the Future, I’m pretty sure Steve has my name written down,” you tried to explain to the girl. “I was just wondering if it was finally here to rent?”

“‘Back to the Future’?” The girl asked, as if you were stupid.

“Yeah…” you replied, doubting yourself for a second.

“What do you mean it hasn’t been here?” asked the girl, whose name you had picked up as Robin from her name tag. “Nobody has rented that movie for like the past two months.”

“But...I, he told me,” you said, at a loss for words.

“Well Stevie told you wrong,” said Robin, with a slight laugh, setting the book aside to set her full attention on you. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you simply replied.

“No way! Your’re the famous Y/N?” said Robin with a awestruck kind of enthusiasm. “I have been waiting to meet you. No wonder he was so upset about missing work today. He hates work, I was so surprised he even cared that much that he couldn’t be here but-”

“Famous?” You asked, the word sticking out in the midst of her ramble.

“Yeah, it’s not everyday that Steve Harrington has been so encompassed by a girl that he has to fake that ‘Back to the Future’ isn’t here just to get her back,” Robin said, a laugh following her words, almost bending over from how hard she was laughing. “What an idiot!”

“What do you mean by fake?”

“That it was gone. It was a plan to talk to you again. Oh he’s gonna kill me if he knew I told you,” she explained. “But he needs to get it over with and just ask you out. There is no way he strung it out this long!“

You stood there astonished, not even sure what to say back in response. Now your turn to wear that awestruck looks What were you even supposed to say? Where was the lesson on what to do in this type of situation?

“Is he still here?” You asked, part of you wanting to see him, the other wishing to run away and not look back.

“No matter how much I want to see this go down, sadly he had something today,” she replied. “I’m closing up tonight, but you know, I’m sure he’ll be here next week.”

#steve harrington x reader #steveharringtonxreader #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagines #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #strangerthings #steve harrington season 4 #fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #taking a break from the usually scheduled angst #savour this cause i am bringing angst x10 in the next couple fics #xoxoxo love love love my boyfriend steve what a king obsessed #i think i want to marry everyone in stranger things #okay live laugh love this fic up pls

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hornime · 4 years

Text

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere.

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched.

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.”

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements.

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.”

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix.

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.”

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs.

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist.

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

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