#here i am responding incoherently

[fullofsunsetwhispers]

Didya know that today, February 2nd, is TwinTail Day? Would you give us a headcanon relating to Kimiko's twintails pls?

Ok, maybe that's ultra late but OMG I didn't know such a holiday exists!

I googled it and it appears it became popular thanks to Sailor Moon (well, the trend of such a hairstyle originated from many other animes too but I'm mentioning these series for a reason)

Headcanon 1

What if Kimiko was a Sailor Moon fan? And she would watch it with Keiko?? And then they would comb each other's hair?

Headcanon 2

That's a tradition the girls practice each year. Even Mr Toshiro isn't safe from pink ribbons lol

Headcanon 3

This one is less canon-ish because I wanted to include my interpretation of Seiko here too. (She's the character from chronicles and she's also a friend of Kimiko and Keiko although she joined their group quite late). In my mind, she would give off more tomboish Vibe and hence, she's not fond of the holiday. But girls are persistent and try to make two ponytails of her short hair anyway. Seiko secretely likes IT but keeps on telling them next year she won't take part in such a toomfoolery. (She's lying)

Headcanon 3

Because Kimiko is a Monk now, she can't be at home as often as she used to. When the TwinTail Day comes, she's upset she can't spend the holiday with her besties. Dojo and the boys Ask her what's wrong and their immediate solution is: YOU CAN DO OUR HAIR. (I love some wholesome Clay and Rai with Tiny ponytails bc their hair is too short tgtv) Omi joins too! He brings one of Kimiko's wigs and tells Kimiko she can do some braids! Kimiko is no longer sad and everyone's having a blast. At the end of the day Kimiko sees Seiko and Keiko sent her a selfie so Kimiko replies back. She sends them silly photos of boys and their attempts to make twintails on Kimiko's hair.

That's my ideas regarding this japanese celebration and thank you for the Ask!

[ducktracy]

i've been in a very "nostalgic for SpongeBob" mood lately and that's warranted a lot of reflecting on Baby Me being a Sponge fanatic and thinking of what she'd think of now. and i have to say that one of my favorite parts of doing what i do--and also the most stupidly niche--is that one of my first online hyperfixations i recall having was SpongeBob production music. i remember animating magical girl transformations in Flipnote to SPONGEBOB MUSIC. i remember feeling so smart researching all the songs and getting to hear them without any dialogue on top. very gratifying to 11 year old me. i was and am still very fixated on production music, and so i always get very excited when seeing uploads of these songs and spotting a screenshot of a scene i worked on among them. one of my favorite aspects of watching episodes premiere is seeing what music they added on top of scenes i touched. it's just neat how many facets my thankfulness for Doing What I'm Doing gets to reach. i'm never not thinking of how grateful i am to be doing what i'm doing

[boomerang109]

remember when you were like "do you want to go to england with me for a week even though we've never met and havent talked that much" and i was like absolutely and then we did it and it was a blast. LIKE WHO DOES THAT AKFHWLFHKWHD ARE WE WEIRD!?!?!?

we’re ABSOLUTELY weird but who else is doing it like us? when hella met my brother he was BIG sad cause he was like, wow you like have cool real friends. and like yeah partially cause she’s international, but also just like, the fact that i have so many friends who i know i can rely on no matter what. like, i know i’m kinda shit at responding to your snaps and your posts and everything. but if you called me rn and said ‘hey i need to get out of [REDACTED] can i come stay with you?’ i would say, yes hannah, of course. i have a full-sized bed and we’ve shared before. you deserve the vacation time and i would love to introduce you to where i live. when you texted me randomly this summer, i was SO EXCITED to meet you in a random ass dog park and see you for 15 minutes. my biggest regret of our friendship is that we don’t talk more, but also i kinda love that my tumblr moots all understand my constant ghosting isn’t personal, it’s just how i am and it doesn’t lessen my love for them. next time i’m on the east coast i want to see you. if you’re ever on the west coast i BETTER see you.

[petrichorium]

Girlies we have Awoken in the middle of the night w a fever and The Sick Aches™ so if I write a sequel to that reo fic where nagi finds out and it’s a sickfic……… everyone just be happy for the food

[8aji]

im a lil embarrassed that most of the posts ive posted (duh) as of late were text posts abt me being sick LMFAO n it feels silly to write this but i think i may log out of this acc for a lil while at least on mobile <3

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)

He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.

He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.

It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.

To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.

"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."

You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.

"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."

And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.

[ellecdc]

Hi Elle! I'm here to hibernate, and I was thinking maybe a poly!rosekiller (you've got me hooked on Barty and Evan) or whatever pairing you think works best, love all our boys, with either:

“they’ve slept for like twelve straight hours. should i be worried?"

Or

“hey, i think it’s time to go to bed.”

Because I am both. Chronically.

If you don't respond it's totally cool, you're such an amazing writer and so many people love your stuff I totally understand not being able to respond, lovely girl!

P.S remember to drink water :)

thanks so much for the prompt, doll!! and thanks for being here with me; I'm happy to be celebrating with you <3

the winter games

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who's asleep and Barty's afraid of [702 words]

CW: immature boyfriends, muggle/modern au, Barty hit someone with his car but it was chill and also not pictured, mentions of dicks but not described

Evan swore his eyes were beginning to cross when his paperwork was interrupted by the sound of a hastily whispered “Rosie!” 

Evan looked up to see Barty standing in the doorway to his office. Well, it was more like to see Barty’s shoulders and head floating about halfway up the door frame as he leaned around it without actually stepping in. 

“What is it, bee?” He drawled as he turned back towards his work.

“I need help.”

“With what?” 

“Hiding a body.” Barty deadpanned. 

Evan let out a tired sigh and looked up at him. “Again, Barty?” 

“With Y/N, Rosie! And for the last time, that cyclist I hit was fine; he bounced right back up and smacked the hood of my car. He certainly wasn’t too hurt to cuss at me.” 

“What’s wrong with your Treasure?” Evan asked - diverting yet another grumbling at how inconvenient hitting another man with his car was for Barty - as he organized his sheets into a neat stack. He may have called you Barty’s Treasure, but you were his poppet, and Barty seemed to think you needed his help so Evan was inclined to help you. 

“She’s asleep.” Barty said simply - troublesome cyclists forgotten - causing Evan to pause.

“I hardly see what the problem with that is, Barty.”

Barty stomped his foot and rolled his eyes as if it were Evan who was being rather meddlesome and vague. “She’s asleep in the kitchen.”

Oh…that was the problem. 

Sure enough, covered in an array of flour, sprinkles, and icing, you were resting your head on one folded arm with a piping bag sitting dejectedly in your opposite hand; a small stream of red icing pooling out the bottom. Sound asleep. 

You’d refused Barty’s help earlier in the evening, stating that he wouldn’t do as good a job and you wanted your holiday cookies to be perfect. Evan didn’t particularly blame you for that, but he did feel rather guilty that you couldn’t trust your boyfriend to not pipe dicks on all of your sugar cookies when your back was turned. 

“You didn’t want to wake her up?” Evan surmised as he gently took the piping bag from your hand. 

“Listen, I love her with my entire being, but I’m kind of afraid of her.”

Evan couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that. “Fine, can you clean this up then?” He asked, gesturing vaguely to the state of the kitchen as he came up behind you and leaned over your frame. 

“Poppet.” He murmured as he gently rubbed at your shoulders. “Come on, doll.”

An incoherent sound of discontent escaped your lips as you tried to rise; Evan’s weight above you kept you from sitting up too quickly. 

“Hey, I think it’s time for bed.”

“But, th’cookies-”

“Will be here in the morning.” Evan argued as he allowed you to sit up slowly. “Barty’ll even help you with them.”

“No he can’t, Ev. He’ll ruin them.”

“He will not because whilst he’s helping you, I will be supervising Barty.”

He felt something warm in his chest as he watched you struggle to wake up; brain working overtime to make sense of your surroundings and to make sense of what Evan was trying to tell you. 

“We’ll get it done in the morning, yeah? Together.” He offered gently.

“Yeah…” You let out with a sigh after a beat, Barty letting out a sigh of relief of his own from behind him. 

“Go get in your pyjamas, pretty girl.” Evan instructed as he helped you stand, pressing a kiss to your hair and patting your hip in dismissal before watching you plod off in the direction of the bedroom.

“Ev, can’t I just-”

“No.”

“Just one.”

“I said no, Bee.” Evan pressed more forcefully. 

“I hardly see what the issue with one festive dick is.” Barty grumbled as the two of them followed you towards the bedroom. “What if I save that one and then we give it to Reg?” 

That gave Evan pause. 

“One.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s happening?” Your voice sounded from somewhere in the washroom, causing both boys to freeze outside of it.

“Nothing.” They chorused; one of them in the form of a question and the other in the form of a delighted cheer.

[sinfullyrosey]

General!Lilia Vanrouge X GN!Reader

Warnings: Doggy Style, Rough Sex, Creampie, Dom!Lilia

Mild spoilers for the recent chapter because I am very limited on exactly what is happening. I just saw General Lilia and read some of his translated dialog and my brain responded as such.

Fairly short like Lilia

Just imagine General Lilia pulling you aside and away from Sebek and Silver in order to “interrogate” you. He takes you somewhere private and secluded, while Baul serves as a distraction for your Diasomnia companions.

The old fae can’t quite put his finger on it, but you and that other human bring out certain feelings in him. Feelings of deeply rooted affection and the instinctual need to protect. This only makes you all the more suspicious in his eyes as he feels hotter and more primal around you in particular.

He doesn’t know that Silver is to be his adopted son, and you, his future partner. Right now, you both are just suspicious strangers.

You make him feel weak, like he can be open and relaxed around you. He feels like he can let his guard down, despite you being a human and a stranger. It’s as if all his ingrained training just melts away when he’s near you.

And he doesn’t like it.

So, you find yourself pinned down by him, one of his hands holding your arms behind your back, the other around your throat, keeping your upper body pressed into the ground. Your uniform pants are pulled down, ass up, and his hard cock pressing against your tight entrance.

He asks you again who you and your friends are and what you want. And again, you tell him you’re not the enemy and are only here temporarily. And once again, Lilia couldn’t help but to believe your words are true.

You squirm in his hold, unintentionally rubbing your bare ass against his length and making yourself squeak at the familiar sensation against your awaiting hole. The movement makes his dick twitch and him grunt.

You felt so hot and bothered, wanting him to just shove his dick in you like he’s done so before. Despite the current situation at hand and despite your friends being not too far away, you were desperate and this younger, more serious version of Lilia was sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“L-lilia…” you whimper.

At your needy call, the fae general found his instincts take over and finally slide his whole cock all the way in, stretching out your hole in order to accommodate his full size.

“O-oh! Oohhh~” You moaned, his tip grazing along your spongey sweet spot, making you see stars.

God, he filled you up so nicely.

Lilia didn’t waste anymore time, being just as horny as you, and began a brutal pace. He pounded into you, tight and unprepared, yet not unwelcomed. His thrusts were rough and precise, making you moan and beg incoherently.

Lilia had never been this harsh with his lovemaking before, preferring to be sweet and playful with you. Not like you were complaining about this nice change of pace.

With every sharp thrust of his hips, he brought you closer to your release. His dick reaching so deep into you, you couldn’t help but get lost in the euphoria, eyes rolling back and mouth agape as you drooled out praise and pleas.

Lilia just couldn’t get enough of you acting so adorably needy for him, watching you unravel so eagerly before him. Maybe not all humans were so bad, at least, not you anyway. 

And with one final, harsh thrust, the general releases inside of you while you squeezed around him from your own orgasm. Your vision going white as he fills you up with his creamy cum.

Once he was empty, he slid his now soft member out of you, watching as your hole winked at him, leaking some stray cum. Your face was flush and body disheveled underneath him. Truly a wonderful sight after he conquered your weak human body.

Lilia never cared much for taking any spoils from war, but if you were included in it, then he’ll gladly take you home if it meant getting to fuck you into submission like this again.

[fear-is-truth]

HIDE N’ SEEK

NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ wc: 1.3k . . .ᐟᅟ TAGS: sexual content・ cnc ・ fem!reader ・gīmp sūit!tate ・ some runnin’ around・ degradation・swearing ・ dumbification・rough sēx・ asphyxiation・english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread

a/n: oh hey hello i am actually alive. busy with school but here’s a lil thing i wrote in 15 minutes.

Your feet slapped against the polished wood floors as you sprinted down the hallway, heart pounding in your chest. You could hear him behind you, each creak of the floorboards marking his steady approach. The sound of his breathing—calm, controlled—only spiked your fear. You knew this was just a game, a stupid, fucking asinine game you had agreed to, but that knowledge did nothing to quell the rising panic inside you. You rounded a corner, spotting the door to your father’s study, and bolted inside, slamming it shut behind you.

The room was dark and quiet, the scent of leather and books surrounding you as you darted behind the large couch. You crouched down, back pressed against the cool leather, trying to calm your ragged breathing. Every muscle in your body was tense, ears straining to catch any sound from the hallway. The door creaked open, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a whimper. His steady footsteps grew louder as he entered the room.

A single squeak of the latex. You bit down on your lip, trying to stay as still as possible, but you knew Tate was close.

You dared to peek around the edge of the couch, and there he was, standing in the middle of the room. The black latex suit clung to his body, highlighting every sinew of muscle. His face was partially shadowed, but the glint in his eyes was unmistakable—he was hunting you.

A sob threatened to rip through your throat, but you held it back. This was just a game, you reminded yourself again.

“Tate…” you pleaded, but the word barely made it past your lips before you heard him move towards your hiding place. You scrambled backward, trying to put more distance between you, but there was nowhere left to run. Before you could react, Tate lunged forward, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you up from behind the couch. You yelped as he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a soft thud. The cool latex of his gimp suit pressed against your body as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“Gotcha,” his mouth crashed against yours in a rough, hungry kiss. Hands grabbing greedily at the plump flesh of your ass as he devoured you. His lips moved against yours with a fierce passion, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before soothing the bite with his tongue. You whimpered against his lips, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. He responded with a low groan, shoving his tongue down your throat.

The fear and adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins moments before was now replaced by the familiar pulsating need between your legs. You gasped when he finally pulled back, just enough to let you catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust as he stared back.

•••

Drool spilled from the corner of your mouth as incoherent babbles tumbled past your lips. Your poor, abused pussy was leaking, sore and swollen from how hard he was fucking you. Unfazed by your discomfort, Tate continued to dominate, his sweat-slick body gliding against yours.

“Ughhh, so good. Feel me deep in you?” His voice was strained as he bottomed out, his tip bullying against your g-spot. Fingers pressing gently on the bulge on your lower belly, applying pressure to the skin stretched by his girth. You let out a mewl, body being jerked back and forth with each of his mean thrusts.

“Mghmm! Too much, Tate– too much!” Your pussy was contradicting your words, it kept squeezing him tighter and leaking messily all over his cock. Tate’s eyes narrowed at your muffled protest, but he slowed down his movements, sliding out of you for a moment before smacking your ass harshly. Smirking at the way the flesh rippled, a handprint blooming across the supple skin.

“What was that for?!” you squealed indignantly.

“Thought little sluts like you prefer it rough?” he purred, breath hot against your ear. He lined himself back up, before pushing his cock back into you gracefully with a lewd squelch. This time, Tate went slower, relishing the glorious feeling of your tightness gripping him. One hand coming to rest on your ass, soothing the red welt he’s inflicted earlier with his palm.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”

The sentence was punctuated with a deep roll of his hips, and your boyfriend snickered meanly at the way you whined when his tip nudged against your cervix. His other reached around, gripping your throat, applying pressure, you could feel your vision blurring.

“Love being fucked like a whore,”

Body trembling, you found yourself nodding, hips bucking back against him. His hand trailed from your backside up to the nape of your neck, forcing your head to the side so he can shove you down into the couch, ass up in the air so he can fuck you deeper. His thrusts grew harder, more aggressive, and you could feel the couch creaking under the force. You clawed at the armrest, desperate for something to hold on to. Your nails dug into the soft leather, leaving crescent marks.

“Nghmmm— p-please, no more.. I can’t-”

fat tears trickled down your cheeks and yet your hips were instinctively bucking up to swallow his cock even further, your greedy pussy sucking him deeper and deeper. What a glutton for punishment you were, but the burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious, filthy pleasure.

“You’re such a dirty little liar,” he grunted, his grip on your throat not loosening. “You can fucking take it and you’re gonna. Fucking. Take it.”

His eyes are dark as he slammed hard into your pussy, his girth stretching you out to the extent that you could feel every ridge of the veins that scattered along his length dragging against your tight walls.

“T-Tate… ohmygodohmygod—”

“Love when you squeal my name, let the whole goddamn house know who owns this tight little cunt, hm?”

Your father’s study was filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the squeaking of latex, his laboured breathing and your wanton moans. Your body trembled, the fine line between pleasure and agony blurring. The room began to spin, the world fading in and out as Tate’s relentless pace pushed you closer to the brink.

“Oh! Taaaaate– I’m gonna—haaaaah–”

Your body was a tight, slick vice around his cock, and Tate could feel his own climax rapidly approaching. He grit his teeth, his hand on your throat tightening,

“Oh, you’re so close, aren’t you? Gonna cum all over my cock and ruin this couch,”

His grip on your throat loosened, just enough for you to gulp some air. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors, your body arching back to meet his, the pleasure overwhelming. You cried out, the sound muffled by the couch cushion, as you shattered into a million pieces. He moaned, his grip around your neck tightening once more, prolonging your climax.

“And then, I’ll leave this mess here, as a little ‘thank you’ to your dear father for letting you live in this house.”

Tate followed, his hot seed filling you to the brim, the latex suit squeaking one last time as he collapsed on top of you, panting. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional creak of the couch. He slowly withdrew, his cock slipping out of you with a wet pop.

“Happy now?” he croaked, exhausted. His grip on your neck slackened, and started to massage the bruises he left. You turned your head to look at him, eyes glazed and your body still shaking. A content, fucked-out smile played on your lips as you mumbled, “Yes, Tate... thank you.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[heizours]

COLLAPSING CONSCIOUSNESS

summary. when you faint in the middle of an argument with them (requested)

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. reader passes out, signs of fainting beforehand, call signs of endearmeant, there are parts where they think that the reader won’t wake up again out of panic, angsty in the beginning

feat. heizou, ayato, xiao

note: i have a history about fainting but i can't tell if what i wrote was accurate enough but, pls lmk if there's something that i should change especially in the warnings.

HEIZOU.

First off, what was the cause of the argument? I don't think big fights would occur between you and him, you see Heizou is a rational thinker and whatever dispute there will be between the two of you — he is willing to solve it right away. He hates it when the both of you are not in good terms.

How would he react if you fainted? Heizou would be frozen at first, but once his senses reach him, he reacts to it immediately once he sees you in an unconscious state or you're just about to fall unconscious.

He is a great detective that is level headed even in the brink of danger but when it comes to you, all those greatness disappears because you're the only one who can make him this vulnerable.

"And I came back, all in one piece aren't I? [Name], what's all got you so worked up over this plain case?" Heizou's tone remained stern, as he tried to keep this little dispute under good wraps.

However the problem here is, he isn't getting your point of view. He is talking about how easy this case was, while here you were at you're wits end after gathering information that this case he claimed to be easy, is very dangerous to the point it can costs his life if he wasn't careful enough in the first place.

To add more gasoline to the fire, he had gotten an injury from it and tried to also hide it from your prying eyes which just increased your disappointment in him.

“You’re simply not getting it, I am getting worked up because if you weren’t careful enough, you could have killed yourself. Speaking of coming back in ‘one piece’, how about that injury you had taken from it huh?” You backfired, as the temperature in the room continues to rise between the two of you.

You could feel the continuous pulse in your head and the sudden need to go to the bathroom as the a tense feeling climbs up your throat, yet you paid no attention to it, thinking it’s nothing more than that.

But, you were very wrong about it. As the argument escalates further, so does your need to breathe and get much air as possible, continues to increase rapidly as well.

Sick of simply hearing his repeated explanation, you decided to stand up from the chair you were seating, finding a pace to cool off and avoiding the path where you could possibly lash out on him.

Unexpectedly, you find yourself standing steadily on the floor for a moment as the noises around started to gradually fade away.

There is this feeling from within you that you need some air or you want to puke, you tried to remain unaffected, ignoring the concern look Heizou was giving you after stopping in place.

It didn't stop there- your sense of hearing was starting to get fuzzy almost turning you deaf as Heizou’s words were beginning to be incoherent in your part. 

You could feel the air inside your body being sucked out, like you're losing the oxygen that you need, and black spots began clouding your vision, not before the world before you was spinning.

You heard someone shouting and shaking you vigorously, and with all your might you tried to respond back yet nothing came out, as your mouth remained open without saying anything. 

Your body was starting to lose it's balance as it started to fall carelessly, and the last thing you felt before losing yourself was a gentle yet firm hand wrapped around you.

---

Frozen.

That’s what Heizou had felt when you fell right into his arms.

Looking back at what happened when you’re already laid out in his arms, he could still clearly remember how his eyes widened in fear, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were scattered all around the place, as all he could think about is to get you urgent help, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave you by yourself.

He remembers it all too well, how he finds himself trembling slightly, frozen in place and filled with deep regret by his unthinkable actions. 

You were just looking out for his safety, like he have always did back at you, yet when you’re the one who reprimanded him to be careful, all he did was caused you further harm. You didn’t want to let him know the uneasiness you were feeling, and that what greatly fears him the most.

What if you never wake up again?

---

As you fluttered your eyes open, you were met by a ceiling, as you process what just happened not too long ago - Heizou, who was sitting right beside you caught wind of your consciousness and sat right up.

"..[Name]? Can you hear me?" He spoked with such tone that you could feel that a part of his voice cracked out of nervousness and worriedness because of how he was fidgeting in his seat.

You turned your head at his direction, silently observing him - he seemed to be in such a distress by how he looked. As you tried to sit up from the bed you were resting on, Heizou didn’t waste a millisecond of helping you be comfortable in the position you wanted.

"W-what happened?"

You stuttered out, while still feeling a little drowsy from the incident.

"...You f-fainted, it happened right in front of me while we were having a misunderstanding. Before you could fall on the ground, I made it near you as soon as I can so that the fall wouldn't be worse than what I am imagining." Heizou started, as he began to fidget once again and bit his lip to prevent the tears that are threatening to come out.

"Y-you were unresponsive [Name], I was trying to shake you, to get something out from you, anything to let me know that you're still there, my cries of help was heard by the General Gorou, he and his comrades calmed and distract me down while a healer was called upon by the Young Priestess."

He continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I made you feel this way my love. If - I wasn't so stubborn to listen to your concerns, maybe this could have been avoided. What I did, was horrible - I shouldn't have been angry about what you said, I had let my words get the best of me during the heat of the moment, I'm sorry."

He finished, averting his eyes away from you out of shame.

As soon as you heard his side of the story, you leaned forward to cup his cheek into your hand, turning him to face you. Despite the tiredness, you let out a grim yet genuine smile along his way, as if to assure him that you too are sorry.

"Oh my love, hush now - I'm alive and still breathing here and right in front of you, see? Do not take all the blame by yourself, as I have a fault too. I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that, when all you did was doing as you're told to, and for making you worried as well. We we're both in the wrong." You replied

Heizou grabbed the hand that was cupping his cheek, snuggled into it before giving a long peck on it before turning to look at you.

"I'm so glad you're alright, I really am. My heart, it always beats for your name, it calls your name and you have no idea how it dropped in a heartbeat like how you dropped in my arms."

He leaned in for a peck on your forehead, before grabbing your face gently into his hands, as if he was holding the whole world.

"You, you are the very essence of my existence"

Heizou finished. 

All the tension, fear, anxiousness and pent up emotions that he was holding while you were resting unconsciously was now free, away from it’s cage. The detective couldn't help but to smile at you, that is so full of love and care.

"Now, it's time for you to rest easy again my love. I suppose we won’t be stubborn for the meantime, aren’t we?"

He affirmed while hinting you with a joke at the end of his reminder about your stubbornness, that he also sometimes has.

You couldn’t help but laugh in response, before nodding.

All is well now, and the both of you couldn’t ask for more. What makes the moment more significant, is that you both knew.

AYATO.

Arguments doesn’t occur often as well when you’re in an established relationship with the Kamisato Head, but if minor disputes were to emerge between the two of you, he would like to cool things off like giving you space and him some space to sort things out. 

How would he react if you fainted while the both of you are in the middle quarrel? He would immediately set aside whatever the both of you are fighting about, and he’ll be catching you the moment that his instinct tells him so that you’re not feeling well.

He tries to be calm, but his strained voice tells another story. When threat comes close to you that is too much for his comfort, his serene image falls into shambles.

“I don’t know when will I come back, but if the night is already falling late, please do not wait for me anymore, darling.” Ayato announced, still busy on his table

Recently, Ayato has been trapping his self inside his office and has been going on for a while now, much to Ayaka’s concern. At first, you didn’t tried to intervene with it even though you’re worried, since you knew how much your significant other cares about the well-being of the common people.

But, judging by how much he is being selfless to the point where he is not even properly taking care of himself, you decided to step in and pay him a visit with a tray of tea in your hand. You started off with a conversation and then brought up the idea of him taking a break, by drinking the tea you had visited him along with, and as usual - what he had said earlier was his response to your offer.

The situation isn’t getting any better, especially that you have sensed that you’re not feeling like yourself as well. Despite that, you pushed away what you’re feeling at the moment, and chose to persuade Ayato to rest instead.

“Then, can you at least drink the tea I have prepared for you? I’m worried, Ayaka’s worried, we’re all worried about you.” I expressed ignoring the lightheaded feeling that is coming from within me.

“[Name], as much as I would rather do it, I can’t have this documents hanging around. You know that right? Please leave me be while I am still having the patience to do so.” Ayato argued back, his voice trying to sound calm and gentle as possible yet it sounded disapproving.

This time, what you were feeling that you dismissed not too long ago, somehow become worst. In fear that you’ll add more to Ayato’s pent up stress, you just silently agreed and gave up the fight, deciding to take the rest and you’ll try again tomorrow. 

Turning your back on him, your body suddenly felt the need to fall - your vision began spotting black and white forces as if it’s forcing you to close your eyes, then came in an annoying yet blurred ring in your ears.

It doesn’t stop there, you could feel your head hanging low, you’re body was rapidly falling and you have nothing to lean on to.

Before you can even entirely fall, Ayato grabbed you by the waist preventing you from the incoming impact. By the time he sat down with you on the floor, you were already unconscious. 

Ayato turned your body around so you’re facing him, tapped your cheek multiple times, and shook you gently awake, but to no avail, you remain unresponsive.

---

Guilty.

That’s what Ayato felt, looking from the situation you were in right now.

Not once did he left your side the moment you fell senseless in his arms, no he didn’t want to take the chance - and instead shouted with all his might, that he has never done before, to get you instant help. 

And he still hasn’t left you alone, as you were laid down on a futon that you’re resting upon. For once in a blue moon, Kamisato Ayato was scared of even leaving you out of his sight. 

It creeps upon him, that all you did was cared and understand him as a busy man, all you asked for once is for him to take a rest even though you should also be doing that to yourself, but no - you putted him first before your well being, and that what makes him feel that he should be accountable for what happened to you.

---

The first thing your eyes laid upon was Ayato, who continued to seat in deep silence, not until when he looked at the slight sound that was caught up by his ears, as he let out quiet gasp of surprise and relief.

As you fidget to sit up from the futon, Ayato took action and gently helped you sit right up. When you finally settled down, he continued to stare at you in silence, but his eyes tells a different story.

They softened at the sight of you, but despite that they were also letting you know how much ache, and ashamed do they feel from putting you in this kind of state.

“...You’re alright, I’m glad.” Ayato whispered, the relief relevant at the tone of his voice, yet you could also that there’s a part in him that just wants to burst out in tears, seeing that you’re still here in front of him, alive and breathing once again.

You looked at him tenderly, as you reached out to grab his hand and squeezed it tenderly and gently, to affirm him that all is alright.

That was the breaking point.

It was Ayato’s last straw, as the tears he was trying to push away to put up his casual facade finally began to stream silently. He brought your hand near his lips, as he pecked it gently and held your hand closer to his face, rubbing it on his cheek, as if holding your hand was his lifeline.

“..I’m sorry, I truly am. I’m sorry for denying your care, I’m sorry for denying your concern and worries, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. It was not what I intend to do darling, maybe if I did agree for that cup of tea, this situation would have been prevented, and you could have been able to tell me.”

He expressed, the regret clearly evident in his voice, as he grasped on tightly yet gently to your arm that he brought closer to him, placing a light peck every now and then as if it was an assurance to him that you’re still here right beside him.

You cupped his face by cupping your other hand on the other side of his cheek, as if you were holding the whole world in your hands right now, gesturing him to look at you in the eye. Never once did you look at him with such hatred nor misunderstand, but instead kept up the sentimental look that you always used to.

“We were both in the wrong, I hid how unwell I was feeling because I didn’t want to be a burden to you nor be added as something that can distract you. But what matters the most to me right now, is that all is well, my darling.”

You stated, as a gentle smile made it’s way on your face even though a little bit the drowsy feeling is still present there.

Ayato couldn’t help but smile back, as he let out a big sigh of relief, not before affirming you with such words you couldn’t help but feel giddy about.

“From this day forward, I will save the time to rest from being a workaholic man, and I am expecting that you, are to rest with me as well. Will that be a good negotiation between us, darling?”

Ayato replied with a hint of tease at the end of his sentence, as you nodded while laughing lightly - glad that he seemed to be in good spirits now.

He looked at you with such a tender face, as if you’re the whole purpose of his life, that he couldn’t help but to blurt out such words, it just adds to the evidence that despite being focused on his work in the past few days, all he could think and miss about was you.

“I burn for you, [Name], I’ve always been.”

Ayato whispered lovingly.

Stuck in the midst of the sincere moment, the both of you couldn’t ask for more other than the fact, that the love between the two of you is still burning, and it increased more than ever.

XIAO.

Arguments with Xiao tend to be a little rocky, only in the beginning of your relationship though. He avoids bringing arguments into the relationship but if the argument continues to grow bigger like a raging fire, he wants things to not be as worst as it already is, and would try to sort things out in the best way he thinks it would work.

How would he react if you fainted? Xiao won’t have time to comprehend what is happening, because as soon as he senses that something about you is not right, he would be right by your side in a heartbeat. His priority first is to get you to safety, before he would ask such things.

He can’t  find a way to stay put, because even if Xiao can stay level headed at such emergencies, he can’t act the same when you’re the one being directly involved.

“...This isn't working out” Xiao said, breaking the tense silence between the two of you after a brief moment.

The argument wasn’t that bad at first, but as the both of you backfired such words at each other, it had came to the point where it is already big as it is before the both of you could even realize it.

Stuck in the midst of trying to mend again the misunderstanding in each other’s perspective, you forgot the fact that you’re not feeling well at the meantime as well, wanting for this argument to be fixed up first.

Looking back at what he previously said - You freeze in your spot, almost as if a bucket of cold water was dump right at your face. You couldn’t find the right words to respond to it, almost as if you’re questioning if Xiao really thinks about it like that.

Xiao’s back remained turned against you, arms crossed as you were right behind him almost in the dark, if not for the moon illuminating some light across his room in Wangshu Inn.

Your breath becomes shaky, but you remained your ground.

“....Well, do you love me?”

You asked, dodging the question he gave and instead gave him another one taking in slow deep breaths maintaining a good pace in hopes that the ringing in your ears would soon stop.

Xiao stood silent, back still facing you - If only you could see how his eyes widened slightly at the question.

“This isn’t the right time for you to be asking m-”

“Do you love me?”

You asked again, ignoring the sudden light headedness that washed over you, as you tried to plant your feet on the ground. The air was silent for a moment, but something was not right, almost as if something more eventful would happen.

Every millisecond that passes by as you await for his answer, your body starts wobbling on it’s own, as black and white spots began to cloud your vision.

This time, Xiao turned his back on you, but before he could give his answer, he gasp in shock at the state you’re in. Your face was pale, and it seemed that at any minute or even second your body would give up on you.

The high pitched ringing in your ears was more vigorous than ever, and your body screams for you to do something. The blood that flows right through you suddenly drops, as your consciousness leaves you, but before you can fall with a loud thud, a firm grip held you down.

---

Clammy.

Xiao’s hands was clammy from the nervousness and guiltiness sucking him in.

His voice was caught in his throat the moment he caught you, as he tried to speak, to shout for help, anything at all, but all he managed was to inhale a harsh breath, as his grip on your unconscious body tightened.

And at last, for the first time in his life, Xiao shouted for help, he didn’t care who it was, anyone will do, as all he knows is that he can’t lose you right at this moment, not now, not ever. 

The tone in his voice still held with the same firmness but if anyone were to listen closer, it was at the verge of cracking from despair, as he tried to gently shook you awake while still calling out for help.

He looked down on you, worried flickering in his eyes as the minutes continued to passed by, while the gut in his stomach continued to dig deeper, it was such a sickening feeling that he thinks he’s about to go crazy.

---

You stirred in the futon, as you slowly gained back your consciousness - eyes darting around the room looking for a certain person, until your eyes landed on him who’s at the balcony, staring off into space outside, as he gripped the wooden railings to ease down his thoughts.

“..Xiao?”

Your voice came out as weak as you’re still recovering especially at a state like that, but Xiao heard it all too well as his eyes snapped open in your direction.

The both of you had a stare off for a moment, and before you knew it, he was right in front of you in just a few strides, as he kneeled down at the side of your futon.

You slowly sat up, as Xiao helped you gently. The both of you still as quiet as ever, that is until you caressed Xiao’s cheek giving him an assuring look.

He let out a shaky sigh of relief, as if the weight in all his body has been now lifted, as he lifted his hand to grasp and caress your hand, leaning further into your touch, as if it was his lifeline.

“..Don’t scare me like that again, alright?”

Xiao whispered, almost too quiet as his voice was on the verge of cracking again - this time not from the despair he felt not too long ago, but because from the comfort and solace provided by your warm touch.

There was a beat drop of silence before the yaksha glances at you once again, still with a heavy heart from the events that took place not too far ago.

"..My life...it revolves around you. You are the reason I breathe, you are the reason I continue to live. Telling you that I love you is an understatement to begin with, because it would not be enough for how much you mean to me."

Your eyes soften as Xiao stated those words with a sincere tone, as he pressed a peck on your wrist, looking at you still as if you are star that hang and brought back the light in his life. It was his own way of apologizing to you.

"We will work this out.."

Xiao continued, nodding at you with affirmation and determination.

"We will"

You repeated with a light yet groggy chuckle, as Xiao pressed a kiss on your forehead this time, before gently placing his hand at the back of your head bringing the both of your foreheads closer to each other.

"Rest, and after that we will talk and fix this out calmly"

He whispered.

No words were spoken after that, but the both of you knew this was enough assurance that in every afterglow, there is a daylight. The both of you will work this out just fine.

[centrally-unplanned]

There are two big "AI Art Discourse" events of note recently, which I thought were interesting: ACX's "AI Art Turing Test" and the new paper on "AI Poetry Beating Human Poetry". Both of these I think reveal the shape of "what is AI art for", and also say a lot about how these results were utilized in discourse.

To take the latter first, some academics quizzed people on some poetry and had these results:

We found that AI-generated poems were rated more favorably in qualities such as rhythm and beauty, and that this contributed to their mistaken identification as human-authored. Our findings suggest that participants employed shared yet flawed heuristics to differentiate AI from human poetry: the simplicity of AI-generated poems may be easier for non-experts to understand, leading them to prefer AI-generated poetry and misinterpret the complexity of human poems as incoherence generated by AI.

More human than human poems! This certainly seems impressive - and it is. You couldn't have gotten these results ~5 years ago. But that maybe doesn't mean as much as you might think? Because here is the opening half of the winning "Walt Whitman AI" Poem:

I hear the call of nature, the rustling of the trees, The whisper of the river, the buzzing of the bees, The chirping of the songbirds, and the howling of the wind, All woven into a symphony, that never seems to end. I feel the pulse of life, the beating of my heart, The rhythm of my breathing, the soul's eternal art, The passion of my being, that burns with fervent fire, The urge to live, to love, to strive, to reach up higher. I see the beauty all around, the glory of the earth, The majesty of mountains, the miracles of birth, The wonder of the cosmos, the mysteries of the stars, The poetry of existence, that echoes near and far

This fucking sucks. Straight up 2/10 poem. Did this bitch seriously establish the world's most predictable rhyme scheme only to try to rhyme wind with end? You had one job that you chose for yourself, and you screwed it up! This poem has been written a million times before, and says nothing - the Miley Cyrus lyrics of verse.

The reason this won is, yes, because AI tools have advanced heavily in the past few years. But it is also because it is being tested on a dead art. No one cares about poetry - certainly not the survey respondents:

We asked participants several questions to gauge their experience with poetry, including how much they like poetry, how frequently they read poetry, and their level of familiarity with their assigned poet. Overall, our participants reported a low level of experience with poetry: 90.4% of participants reported that they read poetry a few times per year or less, 55.8% described themselves as “not very familiar with poetry”, and 66.8% describe themselves as “not familiar at all” with their assigned poet. 

"Or less" is doing a LOT of work there; "yeah I read a few nonfiction books a year" oh sure, totally. 90% of these respondents haven't read a poem that wasn't displayed in the end credits of Minecraft since high school. No one does, poetry as a medium is essentially a relic. That isn't an insult to poets, by the way! There is no shame in being a niche. Not everyone can have the reach of hentai doujin artists; the community is small but they get a ton out of it. But you can't take the art of the community and expect that art to hit outside of it.

This survey didn't ask people to evaluate art; it asked people to evaluate their stereotypical impression of an art they don't care about. It was ~600 people hired off a website, they banged it out ASAP and moved on. This is not to invalidate the results; I am not actually claiming that "real" poets would have scored much better? Maybe, I don't know - that just isn't very relevant.

Let's swing to the AI Art Turing Test results to get more into why. Again, AI art is absolutely "art" in the sense that it is able to pass the test handily. You have to be head-in-the-sand at this point to think that AI can't make an impressionist painting a la the "most liked" art in this contest:

I have seen the "well real paintings have physicality this is a jpeg" discourse points and the cope couldn't be more real - 99% of art consumption in the modern world is digital or at least prints, let's get you back to bed grandma. But I did find it pretty funny that Scott noted this AI piece as one he particularly liked:

Because it is nonsensical, right? All that "faded paint", how was it originally painted - just bucket splashes of red and blue? What are those random doors, the random stairs going nowhere on the sides, the vague-nothings engravings? Scott just didn't care about that - he liked the vibe, right? Ancient ruins, epic scale. It isn't a coincidence that the Impressionist art did the best - current AI tools are always impressionist, they have an idea of the vibe and invent the details in between. In Impressionism that is the whole point.

Now the trap is to go "REAL artists can tell because of this or that" because idk, the tools might get better, they might fill in more and more details. The real revelation here is that you don't need the tools to get better - visual art isn't so different from poetry. Most people don't pay attention to it all that much. You see thousands, thousands of pieces of art a week; you probably don't even realize how many. Do you really care if the fading paint makes coherent sense on a billboard ad or a doctor's office wall painting? So much art that is made is "industrial" in this sense - it has no need to be good. Only good enough to fulfill its utilitarian role. In these fields AI absolutely is going to Take Your Jobs in some form, and already is (though imo not a ton of them). And it won't really bother most people. This can go pretty deep - I promise you people are "utilizing" AI porn right now. They are ~appreciating the details~ way more than is typical, the product is working.

All this works until it doesn't, though. When it is an art book by a favourite artist whose vision you want to pour over, learning that all the individual details were just made by AI completely defeats the purpose, right? Imagine reading a book of these poems. Outside of the novelty, "AI is the point" factor you would rather watch infomercials on repeat, I can't imagine a more pointless use of my time. "Reading arbitrary poems" is never fun, regardless of the quality of the poems. Most people don't care about poetry! The reason you care is that you care about the poet, and what they want to say. You read poetry with context, it being inserted with intent into the pages of a manga, at the end of a video game, because you like the artist and follow them on twitter. The quality of the prose isn't more important than that.

Which is a harsh limit for all of these kinds of tests. They essentially aren't testing art, right? You do not ever get paid twenty bucks to sit down and read a dozen poems and score them. That has no bearing on how you would actually ever learn to care about a poem. Which doesn't make AI art useless or anything, more that these tests will very quickly run into their limits of what they can meaningfully tell you. The actual bar is "creating something someone cares about". From that lens, I fully believe hybrid methods that privilege artistic intent are currently working and will improve. But I think for "solo" AI art getting that to work is going to be complicated.

[lordprettyflackotara]

affection || sam golbach

smut 18+, minors dni

part two is here

the finale is here

Sam Golbach knew you were a bad idea. He knew it from the moment Colby drunkenly brought you home on his arm.

Sam had hoped you would be a one night stand for Colby, something that was common for his best friend.

But you weren’t.

You and Colby were stuck like glue, and Sam never had a moment of peace once you joined their lives.

It always amazed him that you were able to keep up with their fast paced lives, always making time in your own business schedule for their adventures.

Whether it was flying to Boston or going to Waffle House at one am, you never minded going.

And Sam grew to resent that.

Even when he was with Kat, she was often more hesitant. Sam knew no matter how much he adored Kat, she wanted to settle down.

No matter how much in denial Sam was, he just wasn’t ready for that.

Yet you, his best friends girlfriend, were more than Sam could’ve ever hoped for.

But you just weren’t his.

It took a year or so before Colby got bored. Sam watched it happen, ever so slowly. The way his gaze shifted to the waitresses at the restaurants they went to. Or the way he watched him slyly respond to other girls instagram dms. Sam was convinced he noticed Colby’s shift in behavior sooner than you did.

Then the fighting started. You two rarely ever fought, and Sam could hear every last word.

You had a hard time handling your emotions, admittedly feeling insane as Colby denied your allegations. But you noticed it all. The way his hand left yours quicker. The way he hid his phone more. Your sex life declining.

You often found yourself envying Sam and Kat, who seemed to have the perfect relationship to you. She was excited to ghost hunt with the boys. You knew she wanted Sam to settle down quicker and you applauded her tolerance to his hesitation. You overheard her moans overpowering the sound of the shower her and Sam were sharing one time, heat of embarrassment washing over you.

Yet, you found yourself envying her position. At that point Colby barely touched you anymore, constantly on his phone. You wished you were in her place, Sam abusing your cervix as you begged for more.

Sam and Kat broke up first. Sam knew it was coming, like the smell of rain settling into the air. It was a messy breakup, the two of them having a very public relationship. You weren’t a content creator, and even as Sam tried to dry his puffy eyes, he wished Kat weren’t either. It would’ve made things so much more simplistic if she had been just like you.

Colby was almost entirely absent from your life once Sam and Kat broke up. You found yourself resenting Sam and yearning for his attention more and more as time went on.

His absence resulted in your break up. Thats what Colby would contribute it to, anyways. You’d debate he lost interest in you. As you packed your suitcases, Sam watching you from a far. He envied the way you maintained a poker face. You weren’t a babbling, incoherent mess. Instead, you stood poised and unbothered. Colby was talking to you about items you both possessed. If Sam couldn’t hear him, he would’ve never guessed. Your face sat still and unnerved, as if Colby was discussing the weather.

It was storming when you packed up your car and left. You had never officially moved in, unlike Kat. Another thing Sam envied. You slammed the trunk of your car down, fat raindrops embedding themselves onto your clothes and skin. Sam sat perched beside his window, watching you curiously.

Even in the security of being alone, you hadn’t cried a single tear. You felt Sam’s gaze on you, your eyes curiously meeting his. You weren’t sure why he was watching you, your hair becoming soaking wet from the unrelenting weather. In a simple, yet bold move, you waved. Sam, hesitantly, waved back.

If Sam had known that would’ve triggered the following events for the next six months, he would’ve slammed the curtains shut.

You were nervous to text him first, your brain racking itself to figure out a logical reason to reach out to your ex’s best friend. After all, you only had his number to previously communicate about Colby. Yet now, you were searching for reasons to see his best friend.

Asking Sam to deliver an old hoodie you didn’t want was all it took. Sam was more than happy to deliver it, conveniently forgetting to mention it to Colby. It resulted in a long entanglement neither of you could shake.

Sam never fully recovered from his break up with Kat, just like you never fully recovered from your break up with Colby. Sam wished Kat had been like you, just like you prayed Colby would act more like Sam. You found yourself craving each other’s attention, satisfying the sick parts of yourself that desired affection. Even if that affection was twisted and wrong.

It made your skin crawl when you thought about how badly it would hurt Colby if he ever found out.

Sam couldn’t stand to think about it.

But guilt took a backseat when it came to your infatuation with one another.

It didn’t take long for feelings to develop, your mind becoming more occupied of Sam’s well being rather than his cock fucking your brains out. Sam came by on random evenings, whenever he wasn’t restricted by work. And lucky for you, tonight was one of those nights.

Sam opened your front door, the key to your place having grown well adjusted to his key ring. You were ready to greet him, staring up at him as he walked inside. He closed the door behind him, his hands finding your waist with ease.

“Took you long enough,” You teased, noting his tardiness. Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a small chuckle. “We found some great evidence, just so you know,” He debated, nuzzling his face closer to yours. You giggled, Sam pressing your back against the closest wall. Neither of you needed to look, this meeting practically routine. “Did you mention to the ghost they were cock blocking you?” You whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

Sam was so close to kissing you, the tension growing thicker with every passing second. “No, I was too occupied imagining destroying your cunt to think of that,” Sam mumbled. His veiny hands snaked down to your ass, grabbing the flesh harshly. A soft groan escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing red. “Yeah? You’re such an asshole you know. Fantasizing about your best friend’s ex girlfriend right in front of him,” You whispered.

Sam brought his lips harshly to yours, knocking the air out of your lungs. Nothing about his touch was ever gentle, his neediness trumpeting over worry of your wellbeing. A safe word was something developed in the beginning stages of your affair. Sam also knew your body like the back of your hand, he knew what you could handle. Your arms snaked their way around his neck, your lips fighting against his. “If I had it my way, i’d fuck you right in front of him too,” Sam growled, his lips refusing to stray from yours.

Your hips involuntarily bucked forward, his bulge growing faster by the second. Sam smirked, his hand slithering its way around your body. He cupped your heat, your thin shorts and panties restricting him from complete access to your cunt. “You like that idea, don’t you? Me ruining you better than he ever could,” Sam groaned, pressing against your clothed cunt. You craved more friction, your body craving him. You pulled away from his hungry lips, nuzzling yourself in his neck as he pulled your shorts and panties down in a single swipe.

“If it were up to me-” You swallowed hard, feeling his index and middle finger run up and down your drenched folds. Your mouth ran dry as a moan escaped you, his fingers teasing your entrance. “I’d have you breed me right in front of him, and maybe have him lick your cum as it drips out of me,” You moaned, gasping as Sam’s fingers abruptly shoved their way inside of you.

You always made Sam feel like a horny teenage boy, the way your walls squeezed him. Making him feel like he could cream in his pants at any moment. Sam’s spare hand slipped its way up to your throat, squeezing your sweet spots. “You filthy slut, I’d kill him if he ever touched you again. This sweet cunt is mine,” He said, curling his fingers inside of you. You gripped his veiny arm as he squeezed your throat, your moans becoming strangled and uncontrolled.

Sam liked having this dominance over you, watching you crumble as your brain slowly shut off. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Sam’s long fingers abusing your pussy. “Such a pretty girl. Go ahead and cream on my fingers like the good girl you are,” Sam praised. Your eyes met his, the eye contact only making you squeeze him tighter. Your legs trembled as the familiar wave of ecstasy clouded your senses, Sam’s strong hands keeping you from collapsing onto the floor. Your knees had buckled, Sam’s hand leaving your throat and your cunt.

You quietly whined at the loss of contact, your walls clenching around nothing. The moment your vision settled, your hands were on his belt. You wanted to taste him, to feel him abuse your throat. Sam stopped you, sliding his hoodie over his head. “Not this time, wanna feel you,” He mumbled, his needy nature shining through his desire to dominate you.

His neediness reminded you why you both started this entanglement to begin with. It wasn’t just the attraction, that wasn’t enough to cross all moral boundaries. It was the craving for raw affection, the kind that made your heart warm. The kind you day dream about, feeling his skin on yours.

You tossed off your own skimpy pajama top, pushing him towards the couch. His hands briefly abandoned you, your lips working against his as he undressed himself. Sam plopped on the couch, and you quickly followed after him. You straddled his lap, his shaft rubbing up and down against your folds. You groaned at the sensation as his tip brushed against your clit.

“I’m going to fuck you so stupid,” Sam muttered, reaching down to align himself. You lifted yourself on your knees, Sam’s gaze landing on your perky breast. He was a tits man more than anything, his attention now occupied. He leaned forward, taking your right breast into his mouth. Sam knew you liked to be overstimulated, his lips harshly sucking at your nipple. You moaned loudly as you sank down onto his cock, his mouth maintaining its place on your nipple.

Your fingers raked through his blonde hair, his cock stretching out your walls as his teeth grazed your nipple. “Fuck, Sammy,” You moaned, your head thrown back in euphoria. The affectionate nick name brought something out of him, something that wanted him to make you his. The blonde released your breast with a pop, a visible ring of saliva around your sensitive bud. Sam leaned forward, breaking you into a sweet kiss, briefly causing you to forget how rough he could actually be.

You were soon reminded, his hips bucking upwards. “Stay there and look pretty, let me ruin you,” Sam growled. His hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging so deeply into your flesh you were sure he would leave bruises. As sick and twisted as it was, you both got off on the idea of being better than each other’s exs. You’d never mention Kat to Sam, but he knew. Sam, however, relished in mentioning Colby to you. How much better he was than him. How much better he could fuck you. He never hesitated to remind you that he made you cum in ways Colby never knew how to.

Your moans were sounds of pure sin, ringing off of your living room walls. You knew your neighbors would be pissed, but keeping quiet was not something Sam enjoyed. Sam’s thrust were merciless, his own softer groans flooding your ears. That, and the sound of slapping skin, blinding your senses from the outside world. His cock abused your g spot, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Colby could never fuck you like this, could he?” Sam spat, attempting to regain some of your clouded attention.

You swallowed, trying to formulate a proper response.

“N-n-no. Only you Sam,” You panted, his brutal pacing never letting up. Sam smirked as you struggled to think, enjoying watching your brain melt for him. “You’re so fucked out and we’ve barely started,” Sam commented cockily. He would never admit it, but he could cum at any moment. Your body was a drug, the purest form of ecstasy he could have.

And you were all his.

His hips continued to slam into yours, destroying your cunt. “You feel so good,” You slurred, your nails leaving thin red marks into Sam’s pale shoulders. One of his hands abandoned your waist, snaking its way down to your clit. Your back arched as he began to draw slow circles around the bud, the extra stimulation bringing you closer to your peak. “So do you baby,” Sam grunted in response, his cheeks flushing pink as he fucked you.

As much as Sam loved to fuck you senseless and watch his seed drip out of your abused hole, he dreaded it at the same time. The same three words always threatened to leave his lips when he came, both of your bodies attached to the other. Those three words, would ruin the arrangement. Sam knew this. He knew this as your eyes rolled back in your head, your moans unholy music to his ears. The knot in your stomach was threatening to snap, your legs shaking as Sam held you up. You could tell Sam was coming close as well, his thrust becoming sloppy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl. My good girl,” Sam emphasized, his hips stuttering. He groaned your name as he came, his warm cum filling up your abused cunt. You whined as his fingers continued to circle quickly around your clit, Sam’s attention returning completely on you. He hadn’t even finished riding out his high, his hand wrapping itself around your throat.

“Cmon whore, be a good slut for me,” Sam grunted. His cock remained inside of you, still at half mass. He bucked his hips slowly, pushing his cum deeper into your pussy. “You like that don’t you? My cum seeping deeper inside of you,” Sam smirked, not failing to notice your walls squeezing him. Sam brought himself closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “You like the idea that it’s me breeding you, don’t you? The idea that Colby would see you pregnant with my child,” Sam purred. You babbled a hardly coherent yes, your orgasm rushing upon you quickly.

“Go on then, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” Sam whispered. His dirty words were all it took, your thighs shaking as you creamed around his cock. You felt so filthy, getting off on Sam’s degrading words and relentless assault on your clit. You leaned forward, nuzzling your head against his abused shoulder. You closed your eyes, ignoring the red nail marks you had left on him moments ago.

The sound of both of your deep breathing was all you focused on, Sams long arms wrapping around you. It was also in moments like this, with you fucked out of your mind, that Sam wished he could say those dreaded three words to you. You were so vulnerable like this. So soft and sweet. With his cock growing soft inside of you, and the mixture of both of your guys cum leaking out of you, he wished things were different.

As much as he loved his best friend, he often day dreamed of the perfect world in these moments. One where maybe Colby didn’t exist, or Sam had gotten to you first. Sam stroked your back lovingly, taking in all of the affection he would soon be deprived of. Sam heard his phone buzz, the sound louder than it usually was. He could see Colby’s name light up on the screen.

Colby:

hey man where are you? we gotta edit this new video

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to leave you.

Not now, not ever.

But as he watched Colby’s name pop up on the caller ID, his ringtone reminded him why he could never say those three dreaded words.

Not now, not ever.

[deiitsukki]

OMG I JUST READ SUNA’S SITUATIONSHIP DHSHD PLEASE GIVE A PART TWO OMD 😭😭

Us again | Suna R.

Sequel of Situationship.

Tw:(Y/n was slightly harassed, Fingering, F! Receiving, finger licking, Vaginal Penetration, Creampie)

The waves rolled in, steady as always, lapping against the shore of Suna Rintarō's memories. The beach he often retreated to felt different now—emptier, quieter, haunted by the absence of someone he hadn't realized he needed until you were gone. It was here, among the silvered sands and whispering tides, that he had first brought you.

The thought of your laughter as you met his family for the first time still echoed in his mind like the lingering notes of a forgotten melody.

But you had left. 

You’d vanished into the horizon without a backward glance, chasing a life you had always deserved to follow. Suna hadn’t stopped you, he didn't have the rights to, after treating you like shit, No. He hadn’t said the words that had been festering in his heart: Don’t go. I need you. He hadn’t realized how deeply he meant it until the silence you left behind filled his life.

Months passed. The ache in his chest grew heavier with every passing day. Suna had always been composed, calm, and unshaken, but now he felt like a ship adrift, rudderless. He found himself wandering back to the beach often, staring at the stars that once witnessed your presence.

“Why am I doing this to myself?” he muttered one night, sitting alone by the fire-pit you both had once shared. His voice was swallowed by the wind, offering no answers. It wasn’t like him to dwell on things he couldn’t control, but nothing else felt right anymore.

It was Atsumu who finally dragged him out of his gloom. “C’mon, Rintarō, yer a mess,” the setter declared with a clap on the back. “Yer comin’ to the party with me. It’ll do ya good to let loose a little.”

Suna scowled. “Not interested.”

“Not a question, ya loner. I’m not lettin’ ya rot away.”

And so, reluctantly, Suna found himself standing in the pulsing chaos of a massive club. The bass pounded through his chest, the crowd a sea of unfamiliar faces. It wasn’t his scene, but Atsumu had been relentless. He sipped at his drink, keeping to the edges, eyes distant.

Until they weren’t.

You were there.

In the center of the dance floor, under a kaleidoscope of neon lights, Y/N. your hair moved like silk in the dim glow, your laughter rising above the music like a siren’s song. you spun, carefree, lost in the rhythm, and for a moment, Suna thought he was imagining you.

But it was real. you were real. And you looked radiant—until his gaze darkened. A man he didn’t recognize grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you too close. your smile faltered, confusion and discomfort clouding your expression.

Suna moved before he even realized it.

“Hey,” he called, his voice low, sharp like a blade slicing through the din. “Get your hands off her.”

The man looked at him, sneering. “And who’re you supposed to be?”

Suna’s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, his height and the weight of his glare sending a clear message. “The guy who’ll make sure you regret it if you don’t walk away right now.”

The man released you with a scoff and disappeared into the crowd. you swayed slightly, your drunken state evident. you blinked up at Suna, your expression a mix of surprise and recognition.

“Rin…?” you murmured, voice soft, uncertain.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said simply, slipping an arm around you to steady you.

The ride to his apartment was quiet. you leaned against him, murmuring incoherent apologies between bouts of half-asleep silence. Suna didn’t respond, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. 

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” he muttered, more to himself than you.

you giggled, your words slurring. “You’re still…so bossy, Rin.”

He looked up at you then, his breath catching. Even in your disheveled state, you were still breathtaking. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed you until now, with you so close yet so far.

“You’re a mess,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“And you’re…still brooding,” you countered, your gaze locking onto his. The air between them shifted, heavy and electric.

“Why did you leave?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Your eyes glistened, tears threatening to fall. “You know why, Rin. I couldn’t stay. Not when…” you trailed off, voice cracking.

“Not when I was too blind to see what I had,” he finished for you, his voice barely above a whisper.

your lips parted to respond, but before you could, he leaned in, capturing them in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. you froze for a moment before melting into him, your hands tangling in his hair. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the two of you, a collision of longing and unspoken words.

Clothes fell away like forgotten promises as they tumbled into his room. His hands traced the familiar curves of her body, rediscovering the territory he thought he’d lost forever.

“Rin…” you whispered, his name a prayer on your lips.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

you silenced him with another kiss, your touch conveying what words couldn’t.

“Let me make it up to you, love.” the nickname rolled off on his tongue so smooth, and you forgot how long have you waited just for him to call you that.

He broke the kiss, lifting your dress up, his fingers tracing your pale legs as one of his fingers hooked on your laced thongs, he chuckels, quickly removing your underwear.

“Open your mouth” he demanded, and you obeyed, opening your mouth, he then puts his ring and middle finger in your mouth, your tongue swirling arount it.

“Still a good girl huh.” he praises you while chuckling as he removes his saliva covered fingers inside of your mouth. Without aqny warning he inserted his fingers in your pussy, slowly pumping in and out of you, you moaned at the sensation you felt.

He continues to finger you, while rubbing your clit and you moaned at every rhytym of his pace. you could feel a knot began to form inside of you, and he notices this as your toe curled, fingers clawing his arm “Oh fuck rin~” you whimpered, but he suddenly stops and you looked at him in disbelief.

“Why would you do that?” you whined “I was about to cum” you said

“Oh sorry love-” he apologizes and you noticed him stripping out of his clothes and so you did too, you slowly slipped your dress out off you, so you were both bare “I just wanted you cumming in my cock not on my fingers.” he continued as he took your legs into his broad shoulders.

He then lined his hard dick in your entrace, slowly putting it in. You sighed a moan, his pace just slow and you could feel his thick cock moving in and out of your wet pussy.

“Oh god you're so good~” he moaned out, feeling the warmth of your insides “Fuck- so fucking warm.” he curses under his breath as he continue to fuck you slow.

“Rin~” you purred in his ears as your hands snaked around his neck combing the back of his hair, you stared at his eyes pleadingly “Fuck me good, Fuck me fast” you moaned staring straight into his soul

the way you said and the way you stared at him drives him nothing but more crazier. wadting no time, he obliges, His pace picking up and becoming more faster, you could feel him trying to burry his cock deep into your tight cunt and you felt none but pure bliss.

“Oh~ Oh f-fuck” you moaned as your wine red nails dug into his broad back, he delivered a had thrust in your pussy making you rake your fingers in his back, he winces at the sting but secretly likes it 

“Oh shit- I'm gonna cum” he moaned, his thrust becomming more sloppier, cock burrying more deep, your pussy tightens around his cock making him groan “Shit- Don't squeeze me like that love” he said as he enhales a deep breath.

“Gonna cum too rin fuck-” you cried out as you can feel yourself reaching your climax “Cum on my cock love” he said, and you did. You came on his cock as you felt him emptied his loads inside of your pussy, His cock still throbbing as he burried his cock still in your pussy, you both moaned as the pleasure of reaching the climax hits you both.

In the darkness, you both found each other again, two halves of a whole that had been broken for too long.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the tangled sheets. Suna woke to find you nestled against him, your breathing soft and steady. He tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Stay this time,” he whispered, his voice raw.

you stirred, eyes fluttering open. You looked up at him, your gaze soft but hesitant.

“Only if you promise to not treat me as casual again,” You said, your voice barely audible.

“I promise,” he vowed, pulling you closer.

And for the first time in months, Suna Rintarō felt whole again.

special mention to: @strwbivy @erensdickgarage @hrtfelts

[smfolklore]

Ignorance

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Author's Note : Okay she's here! This is 2.5K, I hope you enjoy it! Please leave me your thoughts, if you'd be so kind. I'm so happy that you all liked the first story I wrote. It motivated me to write this!

Synopsis : Y/N goes to Uriah's dormitory and gets incredibly tipsy (she's obliterated). Her instructor discovers this and is snarky with her because he's jealous.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Present Time

My head is fucking pounding. I can hear only the persistent throbbing echoing throughout my brain. But it's what I deserve.

Uriah invited me to a “small” gathering happening among him and his two fellow Dauntless-Born companions. What I didn’t expect was the mass amount of alcohol that we were going to consume that night.

But I didn’t exactly say no. 

I will never deny an opportunity to have fun. When I lived with the Abnegation, there was zero tolerance for fun. It’s the one regulation I will never miss. There were aspects that I loved, like the simplicity and generosity of the people, but the negative aspect of this faction is that they were far too rigid.

In that, Dauntless is the complete opposite. And it’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with how at ease life is here. There are zero regulations (which is.. concerning), but to me that only indicates freedom.

Which is why last night, I drank. I consumed every shot that was handed to me, which if I remember correctly was eight. I’d never drank an ounce of alcohol before yesterday, which should have steered me into complacency but it didn’t.

–––

Uriah’s Dormitory - The Day Before

My face is slightly red as I feel the warmth of the liquor pulsing through me, and I’m trying desperately to contain the giggle slipping by.

We’re in Uriah’s dormitory. There’s six of us: Myself, Uriah, Lynn, Christina, Marlene, and Will. Christina and Will are desperately attempting to sing a chosen song, a microphone in each hand and while everyone is laughing and enjoying the euphoric sensation rolling through them, I feel the entire weight of my figure get heavy.

Uriah laughs at my expression, “Are you okay!”

And before I can even respond, I’m shaking my head with an erupting laugh, “No! No! I can’t stop laughing”.

I feel Uriah plop beside me, and I let my back hit the mattress as I see him lay across it. We’re a chaotic mess of laughing and bloodshot eyes. I blink at him slowly and see the lazy grin on his face.

“I am so fucking drunk right now”.

His grin stretches, “I feel complete. I’ve managed to intoxicate a girl from Abnegation. I never thought I would see the day”.

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief and let out a laugh as I say, “This is the first and the last time. I swear it”.

I don’t, actually.

I’m having far too much fun. Christina and Will are doing Karaoke, Lynn and Marlene are holding onto each-other for balance as they laugh so hard that they’re wheezing, and Uriah and I are laying across his mattress trying to gather our bearing’s. 

I can do this for the rest of my life. This faction is so liberating in spite of its faults.

Before I’m able to register it, Uriah is gripping onto my two wrists and using them as leverage to pull me upright. I’m still a pile of limbs, my body incoherent almost, but I grin as I see him pulling me to my feet.

Once I’m standing I hear a quick, “Our turn!” and my eyes widen dramatically. I can’t sing.

“No, Uriah! I can’t!”

But he’s smiling and I relent as he directs us to the stand that’s hosting the microphones. I pick one up, and as soon as I recognize the song that’s playing I turn to Uriah excitedly and exclaim, “How do you know this song!”

–––

Present Time

When I manage to open my eyes, I’m groggy. Beside me is Uriah, and beside him is Lynn as well as Marlene. We all fell asleep at his dormitory. I use the knuckle of my finger to get completely free of the drowsiness that is looming over me.

I groan as I force myself to sit up. I push myself toward the opposite side of the mattress, softly tying my laces and straightening my clothing. I laugh a little when I see Christina and Will on the couch beside the microphone post. Regardless of how close they’ve managed to become, they swear that they aren’t romantic. Yeah right.

I’ve become accustomed to waking up at 4 in the morning given my training session with Four. In spite of the fact that the first stage is complete, he’s prolonged our training. I didn’t ask him, he simply did. I’d expected him to stop the session, but he never opened the topic, and I certainly wasn’t going to propose it.

I enjoyed our time together.

In the last six week’s, Four and I have built upon our relationship. Our dynamic is.. fairly complicated. There are moments where I feel the tension dissipate and it often indicates the beginning of a friendship, but then he can quickly revert to the distant instructor I see so often.

I can admit that it hurts. I don’t know where I stand when I’m with him and it’s by far the most confusing relationship I’ve ever had. He’s gentle and patient one moment, and the next he’s curt and stern.

This pattern of inconsistency is only intensifying my doubt. I have no clue as to whether or not he thinks I’m attractive. Or if he even likes me. And it’s only served to irritate me. When I see him, I remain indifferent. 

It’s for the absolute best is what I tell myself. He’s clearly not interested in me. He had six entire week’s to give me even an inkling that he likes me, and he hasn’t. I can’t help the disappointment that I feel, I’d thought given the tension within our first session that there was more, but I can’t force him to find me appealing, can I?

I make my way into Uriah’s restroom, searching through the cabinet until I find what I was in need of. A new toothbrush. There’s no way I’m going to train with my insanely hot instructor without brushing my teeth. It’s like asking him to stop training me, when in reality I want to improve. I want to succeed here.

I wash my face, and even manage to brush my hair with a new comb I found stashed beside his toothbrush. I slip out of his dormitory as quietly as I can manage, trying to let them rest. I can’t have them discovering where I go so early in the morning. It wasn’t explicitly said that my training with Four is going against a protocol, but I don’t want to involve him if it is. So I maintain this secret for myself.

It’s 4:47 when I stroll into the training center, and I thank myself internally when I see that I’m alone. He isn’t here yet. I go toward the fountain, and sip on the fresh water pouring through as I wait for him to arrive.

I walk onto the platform, and begin to stretch softly, knowing that I’ll love the open range of motion it’ll give me when I’m fighting against Four. He doesn’t train me easily, not like he started throughout our first session. I’ve landed on my spine so many times, albeit softly. He isn’t unnecessarily rough, but he is rough enough to get his lesson through. 

I have my arm in front of me as I do a stretch when I hear the unmistakable latch of the front door. I peer over my shoulder and see the set of his face; cold.

He isn’t happy.

I carefully watch as he steps onto the platform and before I can register it I’m blurting out, “Nice night?”, with the intention of lightening the atmosphere.

His expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t even meet my eye when he curtly says, “For some”.

This has my eyes widening slightly, as I’m a bit stunned. His body language is telling me that, unfortunately, he was not as fortunate. He’s tense, and his fists are clenched so tightly that the veins on his forearms are prominent. I put my arm down from my stretch and tilt my head, as I mutter to myself, “Okay, then”.

My attention snaps to him when I hear him say in an almost dull tone, “You look exhausted”. I frown wondering why he would point that out, but regardless I respond reluctantly, “We went to Uriah’s dormitory last night”.

All I get in response is an indifferent, “We?”. He’s not even looking at me, which confuses me. He’s untying his laces in order to get into position. Why is he being so adamant on evading me?

I shift from one foot to the other, ease in my voice, “Yep. Uriah, Will, Christina, Marlene, and Lynn. We were.. just learning how to play a card game”. It’s silly to not be honest about this but I don’t know if telling your initiation instructor that you got obliterated the night before is appropriate.

He meets my eye. Finally, but he’s looking at me without amusement as he fires in response, “Guzzling alcohol must be synonymous with learning a card game”.

I’m astounded by how affected he is at learning that his initiates are drinking. It’s entirely normal, but it’s not like I’m going to advertise it too. I furrow my eyebrow at the bite in his tone and feel irritation bubbling within me.

“How do you know what we were doing?”, I respond indignantly.

I watch as his shoulders tense, and it would have been entirely unrecognizable if not for the fact that I’m constantly observing him. I can’t help it, I want to understand him. How he thinks, what he’s feeling, and it goes beyond attraction. There’s a magnetic pull that I feel when I’m with him. 

He’s seamless in his response, “It isn’t exactly difficult to figure out. You're pale and dehydrated”.

I tilt my head and slightly narrow my vision, “There’s no way for you to know that I’m dehydrated, Four”. I’ve caught him; he’s a liar. I stare at him intently as I analyze his carefully crafted expression. I think about last night, attempting to recall a memory that could help me decipher how he’s in the loop of what I did in Uriah’s dormitory. 

And I do. 

It was Zeke. He came to Uriah’s dormitory to tell him about a family dinner.. and in return he helped us all consume as much water as possible. And he forced us all to swallow an Acetaminophen Tablet to prevent the headache that all of us would surely have the following morning.

He must’ve told Four when he left. I don’t know how, or when, but it’s the only possibility that I can think of. Zeke and Four have a friendship and because of that Four is going to hear about Uriah’s antics. Zeke likely mentioned to Four that his entire group of initiates is going to be fucking hungover for the session today.

He isn’t entirely wrong.

Four doesn’t react, simply getting into position and motioning for me to replicate it. But I don’t. I glance at the clock and read the time as 4:54, muttering, “It’s not 5 o'clock yet. We have time”. 

–––

Four’s Point of View

I narrow my gaze at her and try to prevent my body language from giving away just how much irritation is coursing through me.

I’ve felt this gnawing sense of discomfort fill me since the moment Zeke entered my apartment last night, divulging how Uriah and three of my initiates are getting “hammered” in his dormitory.

It isn’t the alcohol that has me tensing my shoulders, or narrowing my gaze at her, it's the disturbing thought that she was with him. I’ve noticed how close they’ve become.. they eat together, I see them in the pit together, and apparently Zeke placed her to sleep beside Uriah last night as well. Granted there were two extra people on the mattress with them.

In spite of the fact that logically, I’m aware nothing could have occurred, there’s a persistent ache of discomfort in my chest that I can’t identify properly. This can’t be jealousy. I can’t like her.

And yet, when I flick my gaze to her, and locate the determination in her eyes to find out what I’m hiding, I find my throat going dry in appeal. 

“I didn’t agree to having a conversation with you, I agreed to train you so that you can improve your fighting” I respond curtly.

There’s a flicker of hurt that catches on her expression and it immediately has me wanting to retract my response. But I don’t, because I can’t. If I tell her the truth, about what I know, I’ll have to explain why I’ve reacted the way that I have. And that will open a conversation that can’t be opened until she isn’t my initiate. Until I can tell her how I feel without putting her in a position where she might feel obligated to return my affection.

It isn’t fair to her. And if I’m going to pursue this.. It has to be done correctly.

So I persist, “Position yourself”.

But she doesn’t. She’s hesitating, and it frustrates me. She grits out in irritation, “Tell me how you know what we were doing”.

I’m almost stunned by the way she’s spoken to me. Y/N has always maintained that line of respect even through the telling of a joke, or when we’re in a session. But now she’s wary, and she’s considering the truth as a possibility; that I like her. 

The thought that Y/N might discover my affection for her has reverted me to the default personality that I’ve adopted since the moment that I chose this faction; cold. I cannot let her figure it out before she’s designated an official member.

I pause, tilting my head in an almost sadistic way as I stalk toward her as intimidatingly as I can. My demeanor is insulting, and I’m aware that the next thing I say may ruin the small connection that we’ve developed. But what choice do I have?

“I advise that you learn how to address your superior. I only agreed to this to help you learn how to fight. If you aren’t going to comply, then get out”, his tone is menacingly calm, but there is an undercurrent of condescension. He’s speaking to her in a manner that would resemble a conversation he’s having with an imbecile.

And it’s enough to hurt her feelings. He sees the flicker of emotion on her face before she decidedly takes a step away from him. 

Her expression is masked, a glimpse of nothing. “Fine”, she mutters, voice indifferent. Her expression is blank when she glances away from him. And it’s blank as she laces her shoes. And when I hear the latch of the steel entryway, I groan as I come to terms with the fact that I’ve only pushed her further into the arm’s of Uriah, and directly away from me. She’s going to hate me. I watched the hurt consume her, and then I watched her mask it with the ease only a person from Abnegation can adopt. I wonder if she’ll come back tomorrow.

[b-o-e]

snorrrk mimimi

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: he watches you sleep bro :’) fluff though, nothin weird.

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #1 :)

When you wake up in the morning, something is different…

“Good morning,”

A familiar sing-song voice gently coaxed you from your sleep. With a grunt and some shifting around, you settled back down, a deep sigh of content releasing from your nostrils.

“G’mornin, Darling,” you mumbled the surname of who you knew that voice belonged to. Your tone sounded more endearing than simply his last name, though.

Gosh, what a nice sleep you had. You were warm and cozy, blanket pulled up and around you, arms hugged around something comfy while a hand carefully rubbed along your back.

A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

Another deep breath left your body, your mind slipping back into its relaxed, thoughtless state, until a peculiar thought disturbed just that.

Why was there a hand on your back?

Your brows twitched in confusion. Actually, let’s back up even more:

Why were you hearing Wally’s voice, and now his quiet giggles?

Groggy with sleep, you grumbled words incoherent to even yourself, forcing your heavy eyes open and looking up.

“Hi,” Wally’s eyes peered down into yours, his smile spread slightly wider than usual. Based on his expression, he seemed quite amused.

“Hi,” you muttered your reply, laying your head back down, satisfied you got your answers. Now it made sense! You heard his voice because he was here, and felt a hand because it was him. Easy peasy, and back to sleep you go!

…

…

…

But it didn’t make sense.

Why was he here? Why was your bed raising and deflating? Why hasn’t realization struck you yet?

…

A gasp tore through your lips. Your eyes darted open, and you quickly pushed yourself up. Ah, there was the realization!

“Wally!” You exclaimed, staring at the close-proximity face of your very familiar neighbor.

“Yes?” He responded.

You looked down at where you’d been resting. Wally’s body laid underneath yours, plonked on your couch. Your lower half had been situated in the couch space between his legs, your head having rested on his chest, where you spotted a small damp circle on his shirt.

“Please tell me I’m still dreaming,” you begged who knows what as a pool of embarrassment filled your stomach.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t believe you are,” Wally gave a little chuckle. “Are you well?”

“I am so sorry,” your hands covered your face as you sat back onto your legs. “Oh my goodness, this is so embarrassing…” you grumbled out, red in the face.

“What is there to be embarrassed about?” Wally’s voice rang out with perplexity as he was unable to find anything wrong.

“I fell asleep on you!” You exclaimed, hands removing themselves from your face. “And drooled on you, among-- other things, probably!” You groaned, shaking your head. How could you have let this happen?

The last bits you could remember were watching TV with Wally last night. He had stayed during the evening for a visit, but you don’t remember discussion of a sleepover. You must’ve trapped him whenever you passed out!

“That’s no big deal, silly,” Wally smiled. “It’s nothing more than a bit of drool. I get paint on me all the time!” Not quite the same, but you don’t point it out.

“But I basically trapped you here! You should’ve gone back to Home, but you had to deal with me instead,” you huffed, lost as to how he failed to see the problems.

“I could’ve gone back to Home,” he corrected, “but I didn’t wish to disturb you and wanted to stay here,” he added, before at least something seemed to click. “Oh, I suppose I see what’s wrong now. I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m sorry,”

“No, that’s not—" you gave up, letting yourself lay back on his chest with a long groan. What did it matter anyways? You’d been there for a multitude of hours already.

“That’s not the issue,” you grumbled after a minute, more composed after getting that out of you. “You’re always welcome here,” you admitted, the flush on your cheeks partly for a different reason now.

“Ha ha, and you’re always welcome here, if you’d like,” his voice rumbled gently, his hand finding itself atop of your head this time. He loved to drown you further in your embarrassment, didn’t he?

Nonetheless, you relaxed a little, sighing. “I owe you an apology, though. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to stay overnight for my comfort, and I’m sorry for whatever odd things I probably did while asleep,”

“And I’ll tell you once again not to be,” he assured calmly. You could practically hear the amusement in his voice. “You’ve done nothing wrong at all. I hope you don’t mind this.”

Your eyes fell shut. Honestly? You didn’t. Although you were flustered, consciously aware of your current position now, it was… nice.

“… I’m not heavy, am I?”

“Not at all,”

Silence followed Wally’s promise, his thumb drawing shapes on your shoulder.

…

“… Your eyes move a little while you sleep,”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, body shooting up to attention. “Do I sleep with my eyes open?”

“Ha ha! No, they move underneath your eyelids,” he shut his eyes, tapping his own eyelids for emphasis. “They moved side to side,” his fingers demonstrated the movement, eyes flicking open after.

“Oh thank goodness,” your body deflated in relief, lowering against him once more. “Yeah, they do that. It’s called, uh…” you paused, racking your mind for the term. “Oh, REM sleep, rapid eye movement,” you said as it came back to you.

“Is there a reason they do that?”

“I won’t lie, my minds too foggy to remember right now,” you shrugged with a light laugh. “Did I do anything else funky?”

“You talk,”

“Right, that quirk I knew about,” you giggled, rubbing a hand against your face, flustered by someone else learning your sleeping habits. Especially him of all people…

“Did I say anything eligible?” You asked. Most times you would only mumble, not too often understandable words or phrases.

Wally hummed in thought, looking up at the ceiling as he seemed to try to recall. “Well, for the most part, no,” he decided. “Just some random words. No deep, dark, secrets, ha ha,” he assured with a playful tone.

“Once again, thank goodness. I need to remain somewhat mysterious or else you’ll lose interest in me,” you jested, earning a pout.

“As if that would ever happen!” Wally smiled, shaking his head as he disagreed.

“Yeah, yeah,” you giggled, a blanket of silence falling back into place. You felt content, even a bit giddy to be in your neighbourly crush’s embrace. His clear lack of judgment or concern was comforting, as were his soft hums and gentle touches to your body.

Eventually, after you figured you’ve used poor Wally as a pillow for long enough, you finally pushed yourself back up. “Well Wally, I suppose we should start the day now, shouldn’t we?” Your sentence finished with a yawn, your arms reaching to the sky as you stretched. Wally only hummed as he watched you, head tipping to the side with interest.

“I suppose so, neighbour.”

You sure were a mystery to him, one that he’d like to unravel. There was so much about you he had yet to find out, but couldn’t wait to learn as he spent more time with you! So, for now, he’ll leave out the details of you murmuring his name in your sleep to save you the extra embarrassment. It was cute you were thinking of him, anyway.

here is a lil thing for welcome home B) here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me! I hope you enjoyed, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 (gimme dopamine boost RAHHHH)

Posted Friday, April 21, 2023 at 2:35 PM

[yuesya]

Seriously, what kind of introduction is that?!

This is Zenin Shiki, my murderous clan head.

Sumire gives Toji a look. Has he finally lost his mind?!

… Except… the thick-headed man clearly doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong at all with what he just said. Which only feeds into Sumire’s exasperation with him. Yes, she’d known that Toji’s family situation was rather complicated, but he’d spoken fondly of his young clan head, hadn’t he? So why would he go and say something like this?

“Your kill count is higher than mine,” Zenin Shiki’s voice is cool and measured. Factual, and with no particular inflection in her tone.

Sumire blinks. The young clan head doesn’t… seem to be offended…?

“Yeah, ‘cuz I’m older than you,” Toji responds, with a note of something akin to amusement in his tone. “Oh, I’m planning to take Sumire’s surname, too. She’s not marrying into the Zenin Clan.”

“Okay.”

Sumire’s jaw drops open. The girl just– just like that–?!

“Shiki-sama!” Unlike the white-haired girl who remains completely unmoved, the other man in the room with them sounds appalled. “Even despite his– his… brashness, Zenin Toji is a member of the main family. Something like this is ridiculous, you cannot possibly allow–”

“I can allow what I want.”

“This isn’t proper,” the man insists. “The Zenin Clan would be ruined if all its members marry out like this! And to a woman? You need to reconsider this.”

“I don’t care for keeping sorcerers who don’t want to be here,” Shiki states boredly. “And if none of the Zenin Clan’s members wish to remain with the clan, then it’s better off disbanded anyways.”

“But–!”

“If you have a problem with any of my decisions,” the girl continues, “Then issue an official challenge to replace me.”

The man’s face turns red, then white. Eventually, he lowers his head. “… Surely you jest, Shiki-sama.”

“It’s not a joke. You’re welcome to try if you think you can kill me.” Despite the chilling contents of those words, the girl sounds utterly unconcerned. But is it confidence, or apathy? “… Or if you don’t mind dying, I suppose.”

The man splutters incoherently.

Sumire, on the other hand, can only gape at the young girl. Even though Toji had mentioned a bit of what his young clan head was like to her before, she still finds herself dumbstruck by what’s playing out in front of her eyes.

“See? Told you that you didn’t need to worry about anything,” Toji nudges her gently, then turns towards the white-haired girl again. “You don’t mind that I’m discarding the Zenin name and marrying a civilian, right?”

“Your romantic pursuits are not my concern,” Shiki responds blandly as she returns to her paperwork. There is a brief moment as she writes down a few lines on the paper in front of her, and then sets the document aside. “… Congratulations, Toji.”

“Thanks,” Toji grins. “So, can I expect an expensive wedding gift?”

“Toji, what in the world do you think you’re saying–”

The girl lifts her gaze again, ignoring the other man entirely. “Am I getting a wedding invitation?”

“Well, duh?” Toji gives the girl a look that’s usually only reserved for idiots. “‘Course you are.”

“… Then yes.” Shiki reaches out for a different pen, and starts writing on another document. “I’ll bring a very expensive wedding gift.”

“Nice.”

Sumire looks between her smug-looking cousin, his calm-faced clan head… and the sole person who appears to have many protests, who wears an expression that makes it seem as if he wants to turn around and bash his head against the wall.

… Despite the fact that the other man is clearly against Toji marrying her like this, somehow Sumire can’t help but feel pity for him in this moment.