#i have one that has 2 layers of holding and it was perfect

[libraford]

Hey I love your photos, especially the ones of dancers! They remind me of when I used to drum with a dance studio, we'd go to renfairs and drum for the dancers, it was fun.

I also thought you might find this amusing - the studio had very strict rules for their haflas. No glitter, no fire, and no live animals.

Each rule was there because it had been done by someone.

Ok, buy I can see where each of those rules come from.

Fire is an obvious one, and while palm fire is generally less dangerous than say- fire fans, there is no safe amount of fire if your indoor studio has wood floors and technically you should get the approval of the Fire Marshal before doing anything with an open flame- even candles.

I immediately thought of Zattana Al-Naseem when you mentioned animals because sometimes she brings her dance partner: a 4-foot ball python named Athena. While I trust her to know how to handle a snake, haflas are typically 2 hours long, and the situation can be stressful for any animal.

And glitter...

Heh... glitter...

If you've ever been at a craft store during Xmas, you'll know how fast layers of loose glitter can become a slick surface, and it's a bitch to get out of the floors.

What are these obvious rules necessary?

BECAUSE EVERY DANCER HAS WANTED TO DO ONE OR MORE OF THESE THINGS AND SOMEONES GOTTA DRAW THE LINE.

The troupe I learn from has a piece they do that would be perfect with glitter blown towards the audience. No.

I know at least four dancers that have gone 'ooo fiiiiire' and put some fire stuff in their cart before going 'hold on a second- where am I gonna be able to practice this?'

I have wanted to dance with a snake for decades, but you can't just rent one- that noodle is part of your family and you can't just use her once and then put her back.

You have to tell dancers 'no.'

We are not practical thinkers.

We WILL bring the fire whip.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Them: NASA did a study where they found out that 10 minutes of jumping on a rebounder (mini trampoline) is the same as running for 30 minutes.

Me: that sounds made up but ok

::jumps on rebounder for 10 consistent minutes::

Me: oh

Bonus: jumping on the trampoline, especially while listening to music, stimulates all the brain in a way that it actually helps my adhd? Like I feel relaxed. Maybe it's the endorphins?

[dutchs-paisley-vest]

Been thinking about Hosea a lot as I write this analysis on Dutch and Micah.

Maybe I’ll eventually whip something up about him, but for now I’m left with thoughts about knowing that not only is Hosea just as guilty as Dutch when it comes to how their boys were brought up (and continued to be treated through adulthood and ultimately up to their deaths), but also the way the two irreparably damaged John and Arthur’s entire lives beyond even their own comprehension. FURTHERMORE, they set forth a viscous cycle of familial violence and neglect that maintained momentum into the next generation. (See: John and Jack.)

The way Hosea’s action, but more importantly his inaction had in part led to… well, [gestures vaguely to RDR1 + RDR2].

Hosea might have been gentler than Dutch on the surface, but he saw it all, and at times both implicitly and explicitly encouraged it through the meticulous timing of his decisions to remain a “silent watcher.”

Yes, refusal to mitigate the violence makes him complicit, but the matter of the fact is… Hosea can’t even feign partial innocence as a third-party bystander because of how calculated he is in nature.

Additionally, there is no “third party.” Dutch and Hosea are a single unit. They occupy the same space even as two separate individuals in John and Arthur’s lives.

The deliberate nature of Hosea’s inaction puts him in the same position as the “perpetrator” because he isn’t just a watcher, he corroborates directly with Dutch and agrees with what he is doing on principle. He reenforces it in perhaps more subtle ways, but that doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.

The only difference between the two is that while they’re dealing different cards, they are playing the exact same game.

[bluebeads-art]

As the flash hits your eye, you feel something crashing into you from all directions. Below you is obvious, Bonbon situated themself to bump into you while the picture was taken. You look to your right, and Mirabelle’s cheek is pressed up to yours. On your left, Isabeau’s sheepishly hugged you to his side. There’s a hand in your hair, too, and it feels like Madame Odile. [...] “We need a souvenir of this trip,” Mirabelle adds. She rushes to the ground to pick up the picture and snort-laughs as she looks at it. “Oh no, Siffrin looks like we’re holding him hostage!” — Curtain Call, Chapter 9, by @openphrase123 (Link in the replies)

2024 October 22nd

Fanfic fanart fanfic fanart!! When I read the "hostage" line, it invoked such a clear image in my head of Siffrin tensed up like a startled prey animal that it got added to my list of things to maybe draw immediately.

Dooon't think about the words 'left' and 'right' in that quote too hard. I know how to read I prommy. :) (I did Not process those words and lost the coin flip in the composition phase...)

Close-up and ramblings about the cans of worms I unleashed upon myself under the cut

Time taken on this was [head in hands] 48 hours and 37 minutes.... That bloated number has two culprits:

1) I got a new tablet! My old one was 10 years old. Its plastic was melting and the electronics had ghosts in 'em, so it needed the sweet release of retirement. However, I had just gotten to the line art phase when the switch happened. Clumsily getting used to the new one during the most precise phase of the process did devastating things to my perfectionism.

2) I made a GRAVE mistake with how I chose to color this. I wanted to keep the grayscale layers for accuracy instead of just slapping a B&W filter over the colored version, so all the colors come from gradient maps, color balance layers, overlay layers, and raster layers clipped to other layers. Listen. I'm used to working with lots of layers. I like keeping things separate so I can edit them more easily. But this is the worst layer system I have ever created. Going from color to B&W requires toggling exactly 20 layers & folders on or off. There are 87 visible layers total. This file lags when you edit it. I've never wanted CSP v1.13 to have layer comps more in my life.

Not helping matters was Isabeau. I said he was the easiest to draw in my last post, but he took that as a challenge, apparently. It's a simple fist-on-hip pose, why was that so hard!?! His face gave me grief too.

Odile's lil' wave got added at the end of the line art phase. I've never added to a sketch that late in the game before, but I felt bad about how little screen area she got, haha. Girl, I tried, but this composition was not kind to you.

Giving Isa, Odile, and Siffrin skin colors felt cursed. Well... "color" is maybe a stretch for Sif. The pallor from being affection-jumpscared isn't helping. In the dev's nose reveal post, they said that Siffrin isn't white but is white-passing, so BOOM albinism headcanon. Like c'mon, they wear a big hat and have most of their skin covered because the sun is a deadly laser when you have little to no melanin and idk if sunblock exists in-universe. Heck, maybe most Islanders have it, their whole religion is about the night sky so maybe they're nocturnal. This makes perfect sense. :)

[moonreader1010]

Things about you that will have them hooked 💋🧿 (18+)

-by Valerie

Pick one of the following piles:-

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. ^

Note:- the pictures used don't belong to me and all the rights go to their original owners.

-This is for entertainment purposes only. Take what resonates.

-minors DNI.

-take a deep breath and pick the pile that calls you.

Pile 1.

The Soulful Romantic

Cards Pulled: The Empress, The Moon, Ace of Cups, The Lovers, King of Pentacles, Seven of Wands

This person will be drawn to the divine sensuality you radiate. The Empress speaks of your natural beauty and allure—there’s something about the way you carry yourself that exudes confidence and an untouchable, goddess-like energy. When they’re near you, they feel like they’re stepping into a dream, a mystery they can’t unravel, as shown by The Moon. Your ability to reveal just enough while leaving so much to the imagination keeps them utterly captivated. With the Ace of Cups, you’re like a refreshing oasis, igniting a deep emotional connection that they haven’t felt with anyone else. The Lovers shows that they see you as their ultimate partner, someone they’d risk everything for. Meanwhile, the King of Pentacles hints at how grounded and self-sufficient you are, which only intensifies their desire to prove their worth to you. Yet, the Seven of Wands adds a layer of challenge—you’re not easily won over, and your resistance only makes them want you more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them watching you laugh softly in a dimly lit café, the glow of candlelight playing on your skin. They’re hooked on the way your eyes seem to hold a thousand secrets, the way you sip your coffee like royalty. They’d sit across the table, leaning in, mesmerized, while their heart races, thinking, "How do I convince them to let me in?"

Pile 2.

The Adventurous Spirit

Cards Pulled: Knight of Wands, The Star, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Cups, The Tower, Page of Swords

This person is a thrill-seeker, and your fiery passion lights a spark in them they can’t ignore. With the Knight of Wands, it’s your boldness and unpredictability that leave them intrigued. You’re not afraid to take risks or live unapologetically, and that’s a magnetic pull for them. The Star reveals that you’re like a beacon of hope and inspiration in their life. They’re drawn to your optimism, your dreams, and how you’re unafraid to chase after what you want. The Nine of Pentacles highlights your independence and elegance; they see you as someone who has built a life of richness—both externally and within. When the Two of Cups appears, it suggests that they feel an undeniable emotional and physical chemistry with you. The Tower, though, adds an element of danger. You shake up their life in the best way possible, forcing them out of their comfort zone. With the Page of Swords, they’re constantly trying to figure you out, hooked on your intelligence and the way you keep them guessing.

Visionary Scenario: Picture this—on an impromptu road trip, you’re laughing as you tease them, wind blowing through your hair. They glance over at you from the driver’s seat, utterly hypnotized by the way you radiate freedom and excitement. In that moment, they think, "I’d follow them anywhere."

Pile 3.

The Intellectual Dreamer

Cards Pulled: Queen of Swords, Temperance, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Devil, Eight of Wands

This person admires your sharp mind and wit, symbolized by the Queen of Swords. You challenge them intellectually, and they’re obsessed with how you always have the perfect comeback or insight. Temperance reveals that you have a serene balance about you—you’re the calm in their storm, a grounding presence they crave. The Three of Pentacles shows that they’re drawn to how you collaborate with others, your ambition, and your ability to inspire and lead. The Ten of Cups makes it clear that they fantasize about long-term happiness with you; you embody their dream of an ideal partner. The Devil, however, spices things up—you have a seductive side they can’t resist. It’s the way you make eye contact just a little too long, or how you subtly hint at something more, that drives them wild. The Eight of Wands speaks of your ability to make things happen quickly and passionately, leaving them breathless and wanting more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them meeting you at a gallery opening. You’re discussing art with effortless eloquence, your voice like velvet. They’re hooked on the way your words tease their mind while your presence tantalizes their senses. That night, as they lie awake, they’re consumed with the thought, "How can I be the one to unlock all their layers?"

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[reidsdimples]

The Learning Game

Spencer Reid x gf!reader

18+❤️‍🔥MDNI ‼️

Inexperienced Spencer Reid (ssn 2) has his first sexual experience with you.

“It’s okay, we’ll take it slow,” you whisper to Spencer. He’s looking down at you with furrowed brows. His breathing’s hitches when you took on his tie, strands of hair falling over his glasses.

“I mean I know what to do I’m just…” he clears his throat when you toss his tie to the floor. He’s stammering over his words and he can’t think straight due to your hands on him. “I just want to touch you so bad,” he whispers so low you almost miss it.

You’re in his apartment, in his kitchen specifically where you two were just going to have some coffee. You had been dating for two months. You had experience, but not much and he had none.

You lace your fingers with his and lead him to the couch where you push him to sit, his button down now falling open. He sweeps his hair back and looks up at you. He’s unbelievably sexy like this, messy hair, breathing hard, eyes blown wide in anticipation, and his body… your pussy clenches.

You lean down and bring his hands up to your ass, he swallows hard. But he palms and squeezes at you through your thin shorts. The sensation of his hands there winds a knot in the pit of your stomach. You step closer, between his legs.

He burrows his head against your stomach, pushing your shirt up and pressing kisses on your skin. You run your fingers through his hair, reveling in the feeling of him groaning into the softness of your stomach.

“Is this okay?” He looks up at you as his hands trial under the hem of your shorts, right against your ass.

“Mhmm,” you bite your lip.

He digs his nails into your flesh, kneading into your ass with soft whimpers as he kisses your stomach. You sway in front of him as he follows his urge to spread your cheeks wide. You feel your arousal separate within your folds at the motion.

He runs his hands down the backs of your thighs and up your hips like he needs to take in the feeling of your creamy soft skin.

“Your hands feel so good on me baby,” you tell him.

You grab his hands and bring them up under your shirt until he’s cupping your breasts, your hands over his. He looks at you with his mouth partially open as he drags his tongue over his bottom lip.

You push him back and straddle him on the couch but he doesn’t release his needy hold of your breasts. You lift your shirt and discard it with a playful smile.

“Wow,” he whispers as he takes in the site of you before him.

You place your hands in his hair and lean forward.

“Go ahead,” you prompt him.

He gently kisses the swell of your breast, trailing down to your nipple where he can’t help but circle his tongue around the hardened peak. You let out a hushed moan for him until he brings his other hand up to your other breast. He plays with and pinches that nipple while he begins sucking on the one in his mouth. You throw your head back, fighting the urge to rock your hips against him.

“So good baby, you’re doing so good,” you praise him. You pull his hair hard enough for him to unlatch from your tit with a popping sound and he looks back up at you. He’s desperate, panting almost, with need. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes.

You kiss him hard, his strong arms wrap your frame and hugs you close. Your tongues push back and forth, sinfully stroking each other as you let your hips start to move.

You feel his erection through his slacks, pushing up against your pussy. There’s too many layers of clothes but he groans at the friction, a small whimpering into the kiss which drives you insane. He’s so sensitive to the smallest touch, twitching and writhing beneath you as you grind against him.

He’s a whimpering mess by the time you shift yourself back just enough to pull his cock free of his pants. He tries to read your reaction but he has no idea how perfect he is. The head of his cock is pronounced, his shaft longer than you would have expected and the girth… that’s going to stretch you out. You moan and bite your lip, pleased.

You look him in the eyes and grip his cock tight and then you start pumping it.

“Oh god,” he huffs and rolls his head back on the couch.

You can’t help yourself, watching him moan and revel in your touch literally takes you to your knees before him. You want to taste him, to make him feel good.

He looks down at you in awe, somehow shocked at what you’re about to do.

“Is this okay?” You bat your eyelashes up at your boyfriend who can barely speak.

“Please,” he begs.

You drag your tongue up his shaft, palming the other side of it in your grip. He sucks air through his teeth when you swirl your tongue around the tip. You taste his precum on your tongue, sweet. He furrows his eye brows and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he watches you. Another hand pushes his hair out of his face.

“You’re such a good boy Spence,” you praise because it drives him crazy and then take his cock deep into your mouth.

The sound that escapes him is unrestricted, needy, and pitiful. You fucking love it and shove his head down the back of your throat until you’ve got every inch of him in your mouth.

You hum and gag around him, soaking his cock as you reel your head back up- pumping what isn’t in your mouth with your hand. He lets out a whimper through pursed lips as you hallow your cheeks and pay special attention to the head.

“So pretty,” he moans as he watches you. He nervously brings his hands into your hair. Pulling it back from your face as you bob up and down on him.

The apartment fills with lewd, sloppy sounds as you greedily please him. Every moan, every time he pulls your hair just eggs you on.

“Buck your hips, do what feels good baby,” you urge him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reasons.

“You won’t,” you shake your head and take his cock in your mouth again. His silky smooth skin is sinful against your tongue.

After a moment he starts to meet your rhythm with his hips, shoving his cock into the back of your throat, keeping your head still with his hands. God he had no idea how fucking hot he was.

You open your mouth wider as he starts to rut into your throat, whimpering so prettily as he approaches his climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears from the face fucking slipping out, it’s amazing.

You want him to come so bad so you begin twisting your tongue around his length, even writing his name with your tongue as you bob up and down and stroke his cock all at once.

He can’t pump his hips anymore, he’s throwing his head back and groaning. Then he tenses.

“Ah!” He moans and you feel hot cum shooting into your mouth. The sweet and thick substance pours into your throat in ropes as his throbbing cock is emptied into it.

You moan and stroke his cock a few extra times to ensure you got it all. You run your tongue over the sensitive tip, taking the last drops of him. He watches with heavy eyes, spent.

“You did so good,” you climb back into his lap and kiss him.

At first he hesitates but gives in hungrily.

“I thought you wanted to have sex?” He asks.

“I do and we will soon,” you smirk. “I’m going to teach you everything.”

You’re so happy that the two of you have crossed this threshold. Next you’re going to teach him how you like to be touched and then you get to teach him how to fuck. You’re so excited.

“Thank you,” he whispers and kisses you again.

“Don’t thank me. You’re going to have to fight to keep me off of you now,” you joke and you both laugh.

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

Part 2 1/2 was added to the beginning! So if you have already read it, skip to where it says “TWO DAYS LATER.”

CHAPTER THREE:

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“And where the hell have you been?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Yuki’s voice. You turned around to meet her smug face from across the hall, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?” 

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

Yuki followed in after you, her eyes lingering on the clothes you threw into the washer. It was only then that she realized you were wearing her university’s graphic tee. This might have been an ordinary occurrence any other day, but not when you spent the night at her old university friend and coworker’s house, especially not Nanami’s.

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?” 

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.”

You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is the lonely virgin; one hookup with you, and you will ruin him.” It was a little surprising to hear Kento was still a virgin, but not because of his age, but his demeanour. The way he carried himself. Indeed, he must have had someone he wanted to be with that intimately; surely someone would want him so intimately, but then again, you only knew him for a few hours; who knows what he is actually like.

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“I know, but–” Yuki lost the words on her tongue, knowing no explanation would do it justice. “Just don’t. He isn’t Satoru or Suguru. He is a decent man, and if you slept with him, hell, if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.”

“You hummed a sound of agreement and went to your bedroom to change. Thoughts of Kento are still in your mind; the more Yuki speaks about him, the more you want to pull back each layer of him to see what exactly makes him the way he is. 

Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

TWO DAYS LATER

“Hello, Mr. Nanami! If I read my email correctly, you are supposed to be showing me around today.” 

This was the first time Nanami had been caught off guard. For some reason, you stood in front of him in business attire, a skirt cut just above the knee, black stockings and a white dress shirt hidden beneath a black cardigan.

 He stared down at you as you stood before him, a nervous smile painted on your face as he did so. His expression was even more blank than he had given you three days ago. It almost seemed like he was angry, but the more he stared at you quietly, you couldn’t help but feel as though he may have just forgotten you. And the very idea of Nanami forgetting you made you slightly (very much so) annoyed. 

Was kissing strangers after housing them in his very nice, very clean apartment a common occurrence for him? Was walking around in shirts too tight around women clearly captivated by him an everyday experience for him???

Okay, you understood it wasn’t technically a kiss to be written in the history books and that it was you who kissed him. But that didn’t take away the feeling of aggravation snaking its way up your spine.

“I’m Y/N.” You stated.

“I know.” Was all he said in return, turning to his desk and logging into the company computer, leaving you standing there awkwardly as he faced his display screen.

You peered over his shoulder, letting a few braids dip down and lay across his chest as you watched him. 

Nanami only let out a shaky breath as you did so, doing his best to ignore the heat that came off of your body as you pressed into him from behind. It didn’t help that you smelled like vanilla and chocolate; whatever perfume you wore was slowly snaking its way around his neck and choking him.

Choosing not to acknowledge your closeness, he focused on your name, typing it in slowly as he waited for an email mentioning you. When it failed, he then searched the word intern, and sure enough, it popped up. In his spam, a place where all emails specifically from Satoru Gojo were sent.

NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, I need a huge favor: babysit the new hires and show them around the office. I missed the flight yesterday, so I’ll be back next week.

Thanks!! 

Satoru.

“How does one miss a flight and choose to return in a week, not the next day?” You asked, a small giggle escaping you. Kento only shook his head, huffing slightly, before turning back around to face you.

“I’m Kento Nanami.”

“I knew that.” You replied shortly, and if Kento could kick himself in the knee, he would ten times over.

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he repeated bluntly. Stay here one moment. When I return, I will give you a tour of this department. I shouldn’t be over ten minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he had vanished, disappearing down a corridor and around a corner, leaving you standing there, slightly bewildered.

Kento silently cursed himself in the supply closet. 

He was hiding.

 In a closet.

 Kento Nanami, the 35-year-old virgin, was hiding in a closet because a pretty woman smelled nice. It didn’t help that you had said his name the way you did. 

Smooth and slow and utterly… normal. Kento knew he couldn’t blame all his perverted problems on the object of his desire, no matter how much he wished to.

He sighed heavily, knocking his head into the door in front of him before opening it and emerging once again into reality. 

All he needed to do was keep himself calm and composed, not let his eyes drift to your lips, preferably avoid all eye contact, and not mention last weekend under any circumstances.

When he approached his desk again, you weren’t alone. Suguru stood over you as you leaned against his desk for support.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Nanami!” You pointed out, bringing Suguru’s attention to Kento as he approached you.

“Mr. Nanami?” Suguru smirked at you with a tilted head. 

“Should I not call him that?” You panicked for all of 3 seconds before Nanami cut in.

“No, no. It is fine.” Letting out a shuddered breath, “Call me whatever you want.” A weak smile went with his words as he twisted to meet the other man.

“Don’t you have a meeting to be in? Where is Yuki?”

“She is already in there stalling. I thought I’d welcome the new hire once again since Satoru has decided to skip his duties. Geto shook his head at the thought of Satoru sipping on mimosas and eating fresh fruit instead of doing his job, his very well-paying job.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you anymore. We can grab lunch or something later!” You suggested before sliding your way to the blonde man. “And you.” Nanami held his breath as you pointed his way, “You owe me a tour.”

“That I do.” Kento said, throwing a tight smile at Geto, trying to mask the ridiculous feeling of jealousy that began blooming in his chest. All Geto gave back was a knowing smile, a smile that you and Kento alike mistook for one given to yourselves, adding to the tension in the room.

***

Walking through the office was probably one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

Whenever you tried to open a conversation, Kento quickly shut it down or stirred it toward work. 

This would have been fine had he looked you in the eye at least once as he showed off every inch of the new environment.

“This is our break/rest room. A couch, blankets, pillows and noise-canceling earphones are stored away for when you need to sleep.”

“Ooo, that sounds amazing.” You peered inside since no one was currently rested. 

“Yup. All you need to do is flip the card to the red side, lock the door, and then, for at least forty minutes, peace is yours.”

“We pull many all-nighters here as the marketing team; with such a small group, taking forty minutes to one-hour breaks is pretty common.”

“Do you often sleep here?”

“No,” was all he said as he glanced over you, making his way to the kitchen, assuming you’d be following behind him promptly.

With each passing second, your patience wore thinner, and you couldn’t help but huff in annoyance.

As you stood in the final room of the floor, Nanami continued to drone on about the new kettle and fridge space, practically facing the wall opposite you.

“What is your problem?” You snapped at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“I am not talking about now; I am talking about this whole tour, or better yet since I approached you this morning.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“Y/N–” Kento started.

“You can call me Miss L/N,” You corrected, “I was nervous at the idea of starting a new job in a higher position than before, especially with all of you guys, who already know each other so well, so to be shown around by someone I “knew” it gave me a little bit of comfort. But if this is a problem for Mr. Nanami, then I can wait for Sugu- Mr. Geto, or Yuki to show me around after their meeting. “

“No.”

“No?” You repeated back at him.

“I am sorry.”

“Okay???”

“I struggle talking with women.”

“And looking them in the eye?” 

“Yes. To women I am attracted to, I struggle.” He now faced you fully, the tips of his ears burned bright red. You would have found this cute, had it not been utterly shocking.

Oh.

“It is ridiculous, I know, but I am trying to get it under control, so don’t worry about me. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable in any way.” And before you could respond, Nanami was back at his desk. Leaving you gobsmacked in the middle of the office Kitchen.

“Oh.” You whispered to no one, hand reaching out and touching your lips.

Preview...

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"CHAPTER FOUR" UPLOADED

[gamorahww]

Why Fiyeraba Are Perfect for Eachother, According to science MBTI

Through their differences, authenticity, sense of what's right, and just overall being well-meaning people, these two are a great example of how you can lift someone up, just by being your most authentic self and holding space for them to do the same.

Hello, this is a Fiyeraba analysis no one asked for. It doesn’t contain any spoilers for Wicked: Part 2.

Disclaimer Regarding MBTI: I know many people think MBTI is bullshit and even a bit limiting, when we talk about real life, and the people inhabiting it, but in the case of well-written, consistent fictional characters (which applies to both Elphaba and Fiyero) I think MBTI can be used without worrying about negative effects. That being said, enjoy the analysis of Fiyeraba through this lense!

I.) Context, If You Are Not Familiar with MBTI

When it comes to MBTI, there are two angles of looking at the types. One you are probably familiar with is the four-letter abbreviation (ENFP, INTJ, ESTJ, etc), but there is a deeper layer, where we are looking at those cognitive functions that each type uses. There are 16 variations of the four-letter types, but only 8 functions, that vary in order, and preference in each type. 

We identify four main cognitive functions in each type. Introverted types (their four-letter type stars with an I) are most comfortable using their introverted functions, and extraverted types (their four letters start with an E) are most comfortable with their extraverted functions. However as a person grows up, goes through life and evolves, they learn to harness their initially weaker functions better, and this gives them a more well-rounded personality, and a more healthier way of living in the world and be their authentic selves.

The order of the functions is also important, so whatever is in first place is their strongest function, and whatever is their last is their weakest.

You may be looking at this thinking “I didn’t ask for this”. And you are right, you didn’t, but bear with me.

So, lets sum it up: Each four-letter type has four main functions, and the extraverts are good at extravert stuff, while introverts are good at introvert stuff. Got it!

Now that we have this nailed down, lets look at these beatiful idiots then.

II.) Fiyeraba and Their MBTI Types and Cognitive Functions

Elphaba is an INTJ. INTJs are nicknamed “masterminds” by some people, because they are really good at big picture stuff. Ironically more often than not, if a story requires a villain with a large plan, they do tend to be INTJs. INTJs make for great villains in people’s eyes, with their no-nonsense way of going around in the world, and in a society full of rules and norms, they stand out, no matter what they do. Some people like to see Elphaba as an ISFP, that would mean that her introverted feeling is stronger than her intuition, but I think those people are wrong lol. Just look at the matter of seconds it took for Elphaba to realize that the Wizard is a fake once she was face to face with him, and then making a plan, and running away. Also, the trope of "you see me as a villain, so I will become your villain" is a common INTJ character trope, and applies to Elphaba super well.

Fiyero is an ESFP. ESFPs are nicknamed as “performers” or “entertainers”. They are usually popular, bold, original, and very observant. They are often considered as shallow, and superficial, which they can be, if they don't focus enough on developing their inner world, their intorverted feeling and their intuition. They are often impulsive, seeking newness, but they can easily fall into this superficiality as a routine, if they are not challenged.

Elphaba - INTJ - cognitive functions: Ni-Te-Fi-Se

(Ni) Introverted Intuition: Dominantly seeks deep patterns, long-term vision, and abstract connections for strategic planning. - Elphaba is the only one who intuitively sees Fiyero being unhappy. Later, as soon as her blinders of false hope are lifted after changing the monkeys, she almost immediately puts two and two together.

(Te) Extraverted Thinking: Structures external environments logically, focusing on efficiency and execution. - From information fragments she gathers at Emerald City, with her thinking supported by her intuition, she puts together the Wizard not having any powers, and seeing through his scheme. 

(Fi) Introverted Feeling: Prioritizes internal values and authenticity in decision-making, though less visibly. - She has a strong sense of what's right, and would never chose what is good for her over what she thinks is the morally right thing to do.

(Se) Extraverted Sensing: Engages with sensory experiences and the present moment, though it’s less naturally prominent. - Once she decides she will fly, she does. She is very graceful, knows how to use her environment to her benefit, although she is a bit slow to take action.

Fiyero - ESFP - cognitive functions: Se-Fi-Te-Ni

(Se) Extraverted Sensing: Focuses on real-time sensory details, enabling adaptability, spontaneity, and a hands-on approach to life. - He's obviously an amazing dancer, and finds joy in the sensory experiences around him. He has no problems balancing on books, jumping off places, dancing, having good old sensory fun.

(Fi) Introverted Feeling: Guides decisions through personal values and emotions, fostering empathy and authenticity. - This function is somewhat dormant in him, although you can see that he cares very deeply for the animals, and feels the need to let Elphaba know that she doesn't have to be "galinda-fied". He appreciates her authenticity and it makes him work more on his own.

(Te) Extraverted Thinking: Organizes actions logically and efficiently to achieve tangible goals. - He is not booksmart, but streetsmart, he recognizes when it is safe to do something, and considers his environment before doing so. 

(Ni) Introverted Intuition: Recognizes patterns and long-term possibilities, offering introspection and strategic insight when developed. - Him calling out Elphaba on her defense mechanism is a very good example of him tapping into his intuitive side, although he doesn't do it very often.

Elphaba and Fiyero have the exact same cognitive functions, but in a completely reverse order: Elphaba: Ni-Te-Fi-Se Fiyero: Se-Fi-Te-Ni I highlighted their strongest functions as seen above.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, whatever function is in first place is the strongest in a person, and whatever is last is the absolute weakest. And while the first and third functions are more easily accessible to everyone (due to them being extraverted functions in an extravert, and introverted functions in an introvert) the very last one, well, it’s difficult to learn to use.

For Elphaba her weakest function is (Se), that Fiyero is amazing at. (Se) can be used to assess your environment on a sensory level, to see and hear what is where, to notice details in how things look. People with well developed (Se) are great at the physical things, like doing your stunts, or dancing, jumping etc.

For Fiyero, his weakest function is (Ni), that Elphaba is just a natural at. (Ni) helps you see patterns in the world around you, and it has been described lovingly by people online as “being able to see the future” (does that ring a bell?) but also by recognizing patterns, seeing a big picture, usually noticing things that other people don’t.

So obviously those are two functions, that one of them learns from the other, right? I mean they just learn how to tap into them. Although they probably don’t as much learn from eachother, but see the other using it, and it makes their own relationship to this under utilized part of themselves change, and improve because of it. But while that is amazing, and will come very helpful to them in act 2/part 2 that is not the aspect that they connect through. What I really want to talk about is…

III.) Connecting Through Authenticity and Values - Introverted Feeling aka (Fi)

Look, you read those two words, you may think, okay, so it’s about people feeling things, like that’s normal, right? Everyone has feelings, so what’s the big deal? No, that’s not what it’s about. (Fi) is about what is _right_. It’s your values, that you hold so deep, that you can’t and won’t cut it out for anything or anyone. It what makes you you, and it is people with (Fi) that usually speak up for marginalized groups, and do the right thing, even if it comes at a personal cost. Introverted feeling is integrity, and it’s authenticity.

And as you can see, Elphaba has this in third place, and Fiyero has it in second. Fiyero should be amazing at this, but his integrity? It’s actually a bit… asleep. Why?

Looping is a phenomena that we call when an introverted person uses only their introverted, or an extraverted person uses only their extraverted functions. It’s a stress response. A defense mechanism. It’s unhealthy, and painful, because yes, your second (and fourth) functions are difficult to develop, but  they are part of who you are, you can’t just shut them out, without cutting pieces out of yourself. Kids live with their first and third functions, and then it is believed that throughout teenagehood, we start to engage our second function more. But when something bad happens to us, we sometimes turn this second function off as adults or as teenagers, reverting back to childish behavior. It’s not for fun, and it never makes us satisfied.

Fiyero is looping, and the mindset he presents in Dancing Through Life is the textbook version of an ESFP in crisis. It is literally a song about that.

“Mindless” and “brainless” are not there to reflect on his lack of intellect, but the fact that he is not integrating these important parts of himself that he should to assess what is right, and he choses not to think about the world around him. He is skipping over that (Fi) as if it was another hurdle in his way, because probably, at some point he realized that his integrity and authenticity doesn’t really matter to the world around him. His values nobody cares about, despite him having everything handed over on a silver platter. 

Escaping the Loop. When Elphaba steps into his life, and he sees her standing up for the animals, that’s the moment, she jump-starts this part inside him. He’s been literally sleepwalking through life up to that point. It is on the levels of authenticity that these two characters are allowed to truly connect, and it is this authenticity and integrity that allows them to see past everything else. (“It’s not lying! It’s looking at things another way.” IYKYK)

IV.) Growing While Lifting Eachother Up

For Elphaba, her personal journey is a strange one. She literally grew up in another bubble, but her integrity has developed. She is well in touch with her cognitive functions, but she is living in a lie, so her bubble is a lie. The fact that she could go through life for so long, not realizing that something was broken in the world, apart from how she was personally treated, goes to show you, what a good job the Wizard did with his manipulation.

Once she really first sees the problems in Oz is with the lion cub in the classroom. You can see her trying to fight for it, raise her voice, ask others to join in, to help and nobody responds, only Fiyero engages with her, asking “I’m sorry, we?” See how Fiyero immediately takes it upon himself, although he was not addressed directly by name, or in any other way. She looked in the general direction of her friends, and he was the only one who responded at all.

Elphaba, tries to solve the situation with her tried and true and tested intuition, integrity, thinking, but she lacks something. She bursts out emotionally, putting the class to sleep, safe for one Fiyero. She needs someone to show her how to take action in that situation, and Fiyero steps in. By that time, Elphaba helped Fiyero engage his values again, so he jumps in to help, and almost literally drags her with himself, moving her out of her comfort zone and out of class.

Up to this point Elphaba was told by Morrible to harness those emotions, but she also put a limitation on Elphaba with those classes. She thinks acting on those feelings is not always right, but these are not just emotions, these are beliefs and values and things that are actually important to her, so keeping them quiet is not the right path. But these two characters complement eachother, and bring out the best in the other, without pushing down anything in each other.  They make eachother stronger and more capable. In the class, Fiyero pulls her out of the limiting mindset she put on herself, and other put on her, and they actually save a life together, and after this neither of them are the same again.

Fiyero starts thinking about what’s right. About the day with the lion cub, and the person he shared it with. He spends more time "inwards" and gives less care about the physical world, and what he thought was important before.

Elphaba leaves to Emerald City with Glinda, not realizing she will be tested, in more ways than she can imagine. And when, at the end of the day she faces a situation, where she needs to take action against the biggest odds she has ever faced, and with Morrible on the loudspeakers disparaging her, she doesn't listen. She doesn't allow those limitations back onto her, she just closes her eyes and leaps.

And when she does, Fiyero jumps on his horse, as the entire world is starting to close in around Elphaba, and goes to look for her.

I guess you could say that together they are actually unlimited.

[sporkarts]

Rio and Subtext

I'm pretentious and I love media analysis so I wanted to break open the scene where Rio and Agatha fight, right after Agatha has broken out of the spell. The fun part about media analysis is that I could be 100% wrong!! and that's okay lol

SO! AAA uses something called re contextualization, where almost every interaction has a layer that is given a greater context later on and i LOVE it. It's not 100% perfect but the biggest moments work so so well. I think one of the best examples of this is the first fight between Agatha and Rio. Looking back, especially during eps 4 and 5 it's really hard to see what the hell Rio was even doing there. But I firmly believe that Rio showed up to warn Agatha that the seven were coming. YES OBVIOUSLY her showing up was also a vehicle for exposition, but diegetically, I think it was Rio's way of warning Agatha.

Sources:

The beginning of the fight, it's obvious even from a first watch-through that Rio is holding back. She easily overpowers Agatha multiple times and at first we're meant to interpret this as someone 'playing with their food' so to speak. On a larger scale, I believe this is a test. "oh hey, you really are out, but you're also so vulnerable"

next, Agatha yields, something I think Rio isn't used to seeing her do. It's here where Rio confirms that Agatha 1. has no power and 2. has no idea what's been happening while she's been trapped.

Then, Rio concedes. She can't kill Agatha, but the Salem Seven can. On the first watchthrough, it sounds like she's tangentially related to the Salem Seven. She's dressed similarly to them, she's the one that mentions them, and she also specifically says she'll "tell them where to find you"

However, in Episode 5, we get context on a few things.

Who the Salem Seven are

Rio is very defensive of Agatha ("when her own mother tried to have her executed" "where is she?")

Rio doesn't particularly like the seven, in fact she seems to, at least in part, dislike them ( "they became a feral, hive-minded coven bent on revenge")

Rio doesn't like Evanora Harkness ("yeah well, her mother can't have her")

At no point is Rio ever shown to command or work with the salem seven, but she is shown protecting Agatha (verbally) from anyone who tries to take her away

When Rio is revealed as Death, it re-contextualizes a lot of the rest of their interaction. Rio cannot kill Agatha because it's against the cosmic rules (which we also learn she follows STAUNCHLY) but she also cannot directly save Agatha. If the Salem Seven were to attack her, Rio could not save her from dying. This also puts a lot of emphasis on their final battle, wherein Rio is so distraught that she's more than willing to break the rules of her existence just to bring Agatha closer to her.

SO!

her parting words from ep 1

"I am not the only one who wants to see you dead. Wants to see you burn, or hang, or drown" ... "Okay Agatha, but I'll be sure to tell them where to find you." ..."the worst of them, the Salem Seven, I expect you'll see them at sundown. After all these centuries, Agatha Harkness will finally meet her end, it really warms the heart" ..."yes I do, it's black and it beats for you"..."te veo"

translation: I love you. I cannot kill you (because of rules), I'm upset with you, but I cannot kill you (because it would kill me). And I'm obsessed enough with you that I cannot let anyone else kill you, but I cannot save you. So I am warning you, they aim to kill you and they can kill you. They will not hesitate and you cannot escape this if they find you, so find another solution. I love you so much my Very Being is devoted to you. I love you, and I see you.

again, yes, so much of that is exposition (antagonist setup, inciting incident etc) but I really and truly believe that this was a warning above all. feel free to disagree! i just love love talking about the deeper meaning behind things :3

[whumpster-fire]

Yet another reason T. T. Sutherland is a coward and a fool for going "Peril has never been touched in battle before, the dragonflame cactus was her first time experiencing real pain" and I refuse to accept it as canon:

Cooler Headcanon: the reason Peril immediately had the idea of burning the venom out of Clay's wound when he got bitten by the Dragonbite Viper was because she's had to do that to herself after getting puncture wounds from sandwings that injected venom past the superheated layer of skin. It didn't do as much damage to her as it did to Clay because Peril's pretty much completely fireproof even under the skin, so the scars are pretty small and not that noticeable, but she does have a few.

The couple times she de-venomed herself during a battle were pretty much the most metal thing ever to happen in Scarlet's arena. A dragon getting an apparently mortal wound, jamming her claws right into the open wound, writhing on the sand in apparent death throes, and then after like a minute getting back up with "smoke" rising from her eyes and nose as well as the bloody, sizzling puncture, and proceeding to limp across the arena and utterly destroy her terrified opponent.

The dragons she was fighting didn't try to finish her off because they'd already severely burned their tail barbs and probably talons and wings doing it and weren't going to risk getting hurt even worse by a dying dragon. Then of course when their one hope of killing her turned out not to work they kind of lost the will to live.

This contributed significantly to Peril's reputation as an invincible monster, but on the other hand seeing the queen's champion curled in a fetal position, screaming, sobbing and obviously trying not to pass out, made some of the spectators present for those fights somewhat remember that this was a 2-3 year old dragonet being thrown in the arena with full grown adult enemy soldiers, which was pretty messed up even if the small child kept winning. These feelings of sympathy were often diminished a bit by what Peril did to her opponents afterward, but Queen Scarlet was still not pleased, and after it happened two or three times she got a supply of the antidote cactus for "if a guard accidentally gets gotten by a sandwing prisoner" purposes.

Ruby absolutely never saw this because she made a point of watching fights in the arena as little as possible, especially Peril's for obvious reasons.

On the other hand I just thought of the perfect explanation for why Carnelian was like "I wonder if she remembers me?" when Peril showed up at JMA instead of freaking out like most of the dragons there. At some point, early in her career as a child soldier before she ended up in Ruby's unit, she was working in the palace and got voluntold to help out during an incident when Peril got stabbed in the shoulder or something where she couldn't reach with her claws so somebody had to very carefully burn the venom out with a red hot nail and a pair of tongs. Carnelian's actual job was probably something like holding a bucket of water and pouring it on the spear haft a third dragon was holding Peril's wing closed with, but she met Peril in a vulnerable state when she wasn't trying to perform for the crowd, and also saw her trying really hard to avoid accidentally injuring anyone, which led to her being one of a small number of skywings who are capable of being normal about Peril.

[tallulah477]

Soft Touches

⭒˚.⭒. 1K Follower Special .⭒.˚⭒

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Fingering, Alien Genitalia, Soft Sex, Slight Tail Play, Creampie, Knotting, Finger sucking/Fingers in mouth, Slight Breeding Kink

Word Count: 4K

A/N: First fic in a while! Sorry its a little rusty.

A/N 2: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: You enjoy a nice lazy morning with your mate after a long night of celebration.

Translations:

Olo'eyktan - Clan Leader

Muntxate - Wife, female spouse

Ikran - Mountain banshee, dragon-like aerial predators

It’s mornings like these that remind you to take a breath.

The mornings when the village is mostly silent. When the normal hustle and bustle of early clan life is put on hold for just a moment, most others favoring the extra sleep and time alone with their loved ones after a long night of celebration before the reality of the day catches up to them and they need to re-enter the real world. 

The celebration was one of new beginnings. The new life born from the couple who had been trying for a long time - new parents who you had seen almost give up hope in ever conceiving after years of nothing finally receiving Eywa’s blessing in the form of a beautiful baby boy. The People cheered and prayed for their new clan member as Jake formally introduced him to the world, holding the baby high above his head and shouting his name with pride as if the baby were his own. 

You hope maybe one day soon, he’ll be able to do the same for your own child. 

As the ceremony turned into food and food turned into dance, the night passed by in a flurry of blood thumping music and happy memories. Your mate is a vision in his Olo’eyktan garb - muscular shoulders made even more broad by the layered feathers proudly displayed on him. His beautiful face somehow made even more beautiful framed by the ornate headpiece that lays distinguished on his forehead. The multitude of necklaces and armbands that adorn him, dressed with colorful beading, intricate knots, and bones. 

They’re symbols of respect. Symbols of honor. 

You can’t wait to tear them off his body when you get home.

And so you do - following every instinct you have as you rip the badges of honor from him in a fierce display that has your Olo’eyktan practically shaking in excitement and grinning that adorably goofy smile of his as he leans back against your shared woven mat, hands folded comfortably behind his head as he lets you ravage him to your heart’s delight. 

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes you feel alive. It’s exciting and fun, quick and intensely satisfying as you both greedily chase that pleasure that you know only the other can provide. 

“Fucked your brains out,” Jake jokes afterwards, and you resist the urge to smack him - too satisfied and gooey in the glow of the aftermath that you can’t even bring yourself to move to make the hit. 

You think he knows that, which is probably why he said it.

You don’t dream, and sometimes that’s better than even the best dreams. There’s nothing to keep your mind working, no other life to live in another world and nothing to bring your deepest fears or greatest dreams to life. It’s just silence. Pure rest and energy replenishment. You wake up feeling refreshed - calm and serene. 

Like the rest of the world is miles away and it’s just you and the love of your life together alone, away from all responsibility and the demands life brings.

Mornings like this are easy. 

Soft light just barely making it into the hut, just enough to light up everything around you, but not enough that you couldn’t easily fall back asleep if you wanted to. Jake’s arms are a warm blanket around you, keeping you close and safe and protected even in sleep. The consistent puffs of breath on your neck from where his face is pressed close to you is soothing in a way you can’t even begin to describe. You could lay here all day, wrapped up in the warmth of his body and the unassuming fuzziness of almost sleep blurring at the edges of your vision. 

There’s no worries right now, no concern or to-do’s or looming tasks that are faring for your attention. 

It’s just him and you. Even if for only right now. 

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles. 

She made him for you somehow. Just for you.

Your fingers continue their featherlight touches on his arm and they’re more deliberate now as your tail curls around the back of Jake’s leg so the soft tuft of hair at the end can tickle along the back of his knee. The light touches are guaranteed to wake him up. He showers you in a strong gentleness, granting you the light and soft touches that you love so much exactly when you need them, but he prefers a firmer touch. The softer touches drive him insane after a while and he’ll often grab your hand and push it harder against his skin to starve off the sensation or even drag your nails across the spot to get rid of the itch. 

You’re a menace, purposefully teasing him with light touches just to see him react the way he does. Just because it's a soft and peaceful morning doesn’t mean you’ll show him reprieve. 

The tightness in your core says you want him, so he needs to wake up. Just the feel of his body pressing against yours and the rhythmic puffs of breath on the back of your neck is sending pleasant tingles down your spine. The warmth of his body heat turns into a different kind of warmth that swells in your stomach and settles between your thighs.

You can feel him start to stir behind you, the puffs of breath becoming harsher as his arm and leg twitch against your lovingly mean touches. Your body tenses in excitement when you feel the sharp teeth press against the nape of your neck and the low growl he lets out reverberates through your entire body.

“What have I said about the touching, baby?”

“Firm strokes,” You grin before adding on a smug, “Everywhere.”

Jake hums against you, teeth still a clear warning against the back of your neck and they dig in just a little harder at your cheeky answer. 

“That’s right,” He says against your skin. “So why is my mate being bad on this very nice morning?”

“Wanted you to wake up,” You breathe. 

Your tail flicks at the back of his knee again and you let out an excited laugh when he pulls his arm away from your tickling fingers to snatch your tail. He jerks it swiftly in reprimand, not hard enough to actually hurt but just enough for you to feel the sharp pull of it and the sensation shoots right down to your center.

“Wake up for what?” He asks, but you can hear the responding grin in his voice.

You arch your back, pressing your ass against his bare front just to drive the point home. His cock is still sheltered in its protective sheath, but the action is clear anyway. “You know for what,”

The move does its job and your Jake is significantly riled up in an instant. He presses his front harder against your back, rolling you slightly forward to better gain leverage against you. The muscular arm you’re using as a pillow shifts so that his hand can reach down and cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his large hand. The other hand slides across your hip, the tip of your tail still caught in the loose ring of his thumb and pointer finger as he drags it with him between your thighs. 

He keeps it trapped there as his middle finger runs across your slick slit, sliding up and down the length of your pussy with the lightest of touches. The tuft of hair on your tail sticks together as Jake drags it with him and a part of you wants to yell at him, mortified at the idea of your own tail becoming dirtied by your own sticky mess. But the feeling of the soft hair sliding across your needy slit makes you even more desperate and the control that he shows he has over you as he uses your own hair tuft on your tail to help him tease you makes you whimper.

“Ma Jake,” You squirm. You tilt your hips trying to get him to touch you better - push a little harder, slide a finger inside, touch your clit, something. But he doesn’t budge. Just continues his teasing as he nips his sharp teeth at your ear.

“Hm, what’s wrong, babygirl?” He mocks. “I thought you liked soft touches.”

Since he moved, your hands had been clutching the wrist of the hand caressing your breast. Now, you pull one away from its resting place to grab the hand between your thighs trying to manipulate his fingers into moving to the places you want them to. The inside of your palm brushes against the sticky strands of hair as Jake makes it brush over your clit and your tail jerks in response as your body inadvertently tries to tug it away, but Jake keeps it hostage between his skilled fingers. The fine hairs leave silky lines of wetness against your palm. 

“Please,” You whine and your fingers press against his middle finger, forcing it to slip between your wet lips. “Be nice to your muntxate.”

“Yeah?” Jake grumbles. “After you were just so nice to me?”

A part of you wants him to continue to drag this out. You like the tease. The way the barely there touches are nowhere near enough to get you to where you want to be but the tortuous featherlight brush of fingers makes you wetter than direct and firm touches would. Jake knows how to play with you, knows how to work you up to near madness with barely even lifting a finger. He touches the right spots - gentle brushes against the length of your pussy, caressing along the sides and down the slit, dipping in enough just to be able to slide across your hole that clenches with need from every new ‘not touch’. Sometimes his fingers would nudge against your clit, just enough to make you jump as a shock of pleasure shoots into your belly at the place you most want him to touch finally getting some attention, even if for only one fleeting second. 

“I’m always nice to you,” You breathe. 

“Oh, yeah?” Jake laughs, knowing disbelief coloring the beautiful sound and you can’t help the cheeky grin that pulls at your lips in return. “You’re always nice to me, huh?

“Mhm,” You agree. You lean your head back so your cheek can rub against Jake’s. “The nicest and most perfect mate ever.”

“Hm,” Jake hums and your breathing hitches as when his fingers slide more purposefully towards your dripping hole. “Yeah, you’ve never been a pain in my ass for a single second, have you?”

Your tail lashes out behind you when Jake loosens his grip on it in favor of sinking his long fingers inside you. It smacks against Jake’s thigh a few times and distantly you hope that it leaves a wet spot there too as payback, but the thought is so removed from your brain right now that it hardly even registers at all. His fingers slide into you so perfectly, the size of two of them sinking into your cunt begins to stretch you out so well. Compared to the actual size of him, it's not enough to fully prepare you. But you can feel where his cock has come out to play behind you, already hard and wet from the slick of its protective sheath as it pokes at the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve just always been my good girl,”

His words are sweet, the urge to nod and agree that yes, yes you have always been his good girl is so strong as his fingers fill you up, but you know better than anyone how the edge of sarcasm in his words ring true. When you first met Jake, you had been hostile. Furious with your best friend when she had saved him in the forest and furious even more when she begged for your help to train him in the ways of The People when her father had instructed her to take on the task of babysitter. It makes you laugh now to think back on those months. Neytiri wasn’t nice by any means, but she had quickly developed a fond friendship with the dreamwalker despite her early aggression. And even though you hissed at him, smacked him instead of guiding him into place when learning to shoot a bow and arrow and use a knife, and called him every insult you knew straight to his face while fully taking advantage of the fact that he was still learning Na’vi - you had grown to be quite fond of him too.

The differences you had once held against him were now things to be cherished. The five fingers that once made you nervous, too associated with the demons that had come and killed people that you cared about and tried to destroy your home, were a symbol of his loyalty to you and The People. He chose you - chose to be with you and give his loyalty to you and Eywa and the rest of the clan over the species he was born as, and you take pride in seeing that fifth finger on his hand, playing with it lovingly between your own fingers, and knowing what it symbolizes to you. Made a human but created by the Great Mother: different, but still Na’vi. 

But you are a warrior - fierce and focused, courageous and determined. Maybe a little aggressive. Stubborn. So maybe you’re not always as nice as you could be. The fondness grown from spending the time of getting to know Jake and the unavoidable blessing of love that came after couldn’t have stopped the aspects of your personality and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were always a patient, kind, and understanding bundle of joy. You argue and expect things, fierce in your opinions and beliefs just as fierce as you love. 

You would never have found a worthy match with someone else in the clan. No one else could have ever handled you the way Jake can. No one else would have ever loved you as much as Jake does. 

You’re a pain in his ass - on him from the start if he’s wrong about something, making a bad call or the wrong decision, and you push him to be better as a good mate should. Direct communication. No sugar-coating things. Jake can handle it and you hate it in the moment, but you’re grateful that you can say he returns the favor too. 

“My perfect mate,” Jake agrees and your tail shakes with excitement as he digs his fingers in deeper.

You’re so wet already, slick pooling between your thighs as you spread them more to give him a little more space for his hand. The hand on your breast clings to it, not letting go or loosening its grip for a second as he squeezes at your chest. His clever fingers form a cage around your nipple that pinches the hard bud between his third and fourth finger with each squeeze, and the sharp pang of pleasure that courses through your body from the stimulation drives you to grind down on the hand between your thighs even harder.

His fingers feel so good inside you, stretching you and thrusting as deep as they can go as you leak around them. He knows all your good spots, fingertips curling and rubbing against your slick walls as he torments the spots he can reach in his position and rakes the tips of his fangs on the back of your neck to make up for the ones he can’t. Your hand is still laying on top of his, moving with it as if it’s guiding its movements. Jake lets you keep it there. He knows you like to act like you’re in control sometimes. 

The thick head of his cock pokes at your ass, sliding against the curve of it and your hand finally leaves the top of his to reach behind you. Your hand curls around his length, stroking gently and feeling each textured bump and barb rub against your fingertips. His fingers are good, magical even. But even in the soft morning glow when things are quiet and you should be satisfied, it’s still not enough. 

“Ma Jake, please?”

He chuckles. “You’re so polite when you want something,” 

You grin. “Don’t make me be mean,”

Jake shifts his hips harder against your ass, somehow shoving his fingers deeper inside you as he rubs his cheek against yours, lips pressing just off to the side of your own in a quick kiss. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to be mean, would we?”

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean. 

He doesn’t let you respond, instead choosing to be nice and halting the sweet torment of his fingers in your cunt and replacing them with the blunt press of his cock at your entrance. Your body mourns the loss of his fingers when he pulls them from between your legs, but you do well to push the feeling down when he hooks his hand under your knee and bends your leg up, spreading you more to give him easier access to push his cock inside. 

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as his length spears you open, stretching you and filling you up the way you know only he can. You can feel every delicious raised bump on his cock as he slides into you and you squeeze down on him, reveling in the way the texture scrapes against your slick walls. 

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to be like this with him in his human body. Wheelchair and paralyzing spinal injury aside - you still imagine him standing straight, as tall as he can be, and staring at you with that daring, cocky, fearless expression of his - smirking and ready to tame you just as he had tamed his ikran. 

He’d be so much smaller than you. Your hand easily encompassing the entire side of his head as you pulled him in for a kiss, and the agitation you might feel at having to wait even for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his breathing mask. He’d be smaller down there too. The thought makes you giggle a little. It’s a shame really - because the idea of trying the human version of him, despite your pretenses, is very appealing. Smaller human Jake is still your Jake, no matter what body he is in.

How would it feel? There would be no barbs or added texture for stimulation, no extra slick other than a small amount of precum to make taking it any easier. No knot to lock you in and keep you close afterwards. 

How would it feel encased snugly inside your walls? It would be smooth, right? Save for maybe a vein here and there. He’s told you before that a human’s genitalia hangs outside the body, balls included. You think that’s rather interesting. Stupid - but interesting. A flawed design in a species that mostly considers itself perfect. But what would that feel like? You can picture what you think that would be like - Jake’s own swinging, unprotected, with each thrust. Would they slap against your ass as he fucks you? Could they hit your clit if you make him fuck you with you on all fours?

You’d never ask him. Your pride would never let you. But sometimes, you think about it and wonder. The desire to try something you know you never can and to do it with the only person you would ever want to try it with. 

The first retreat of him pulling back and then the slow and dragging slide of him pushing back into you makes sure to clear that lingering thought out of your mind. What could you possibly want that for when you have this right here? 

Perfect, passionate, intimate, and completely yours. 

His lips are at your ear, panting breath fanning at the curve of it as he murmurs to you about how tight you are and how good you feel around him. Like a perfect sleeve made just for my cock, he tells you, and groans when the words make you clench around him like a vice. 

Jake’s hand lets go of your knee to reach around your front again, fingers finding the sensitive bud between your thighs. Your clit throbs under his touch and there’s people around you in the nearby huts - families who can definitely hear you if you get too loud. And even though sex is not taboo among the Na’vi like you’ve learned it is among many humans, it's still early on a morning post celebration and people are sleeping. You don’t think Weim, Tsuakir, and their young daughter, Iski, would appreciate getting woken up by the pleasured mewling cries of their Olo’eyktan’s mate before it’s time for them to rise. 

You get out one loud moan before Jake is pulling his hand from your breast and shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“Shhh, babygirl,” Jake whispers. “Can’t keep you all to myself if you wake up the whole damn village.”

A part of you wants to bite at the fingers in your mouth, the urge to rebel in any way you can against Jake’s slight increase in control over you, but they work too well - long digits pressing into the sides of your cheek and against your tongue just enough to keep you quiet. His other hand is drawing swirls around your clit, using the combined wetness of both of your slicks to make it nice and slippery.  

The knot on the base of his cock is swelling, pushing and pulling at the rim of your entrance with each rhythmic rock of his hips, and you suck eagerly at Jake’s fingers in your mouth as your body molds to each stretch and give. Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells. 

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

The swollen knot catches on your rim, pushing inside with a pointed snap of Jake’s hips, and you gasp when it slips inside you, stretching you to what you always feel are your limits but your body welcomes him willingly. The shock of his knot locking inside you and the insistent circles on your clit trigger your orgasm, and you cum to the warmth of Jake’s own release painting your insides as you clench around him, pleasure crashing through your body and leaving you feeling all the more fuzzy and weightless in the soft morning glow filling the hut than how you woke. 

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

But not right now - you still have some time left. 

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[kitasgloves]

if you're writing more of your 'comforting your insecure boyfriend' series maybe I suggest Hinata and Yamaguchi? My boys deserve it.

comforting your insecure bf

part 1 . part 2 . part 3

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ omg i'm sorry this was late anon i was in a deppression but this brought me back to life. and yes, our boys deserve some comforting too ;)

— ♬ Hinata Shoyo

You and Hinata Shoyo go way back in high school. You and he were from different schools and had a fateful encounter during training camp in his second year. You were already in your third year when you met him. You were the kindhearted and quiet manager from one of the rival teams. What captured Hinata's interest was initially your looks, he might be exaggerating if he said you're the most ethereal person he has ever met.

You had glistening bright eyes, a lovely smile, and a melodic laugh. Not to mention, you happened to be taller than him! Your personality was in contrast to his. You were calm and collected, preferred to listen than talk, and genuinely enjoyed quiet moments. Unlike Hinata, who was a burst of energy and always searching for something new to try, especially when related to volleyball.

Despite his outgoing personality, Hinata found himself beyond shy when interacting with you. Perhaps, it had something to do with his silly crush on you. He'd avert his eyes away when you greeted him, stammer a reply, and dash away from you. Fortunately, you didn't interpret this as him having a particular dislike for you. If anything, you found it undeniably adorable.

So, on the last day of that fateful training camp, you approached him for the first time. Hinata went short-circuited as you stood in front of him. His heart was palpitating and he was afraid he was going to explode like a ticking timebomb at any second.

"Hey"

"H—Hi"

"Do you want to exchange phone numbers?"

What?

You were holding your phone while you suppressed a laugh when the shorter male's face burst into color. God, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks. Immediately, Hinata fishes for his phone in his pocket.

"Sure!"

You and the spiker had been texting each other nonstop since you both exchanged your numbers at training camp. You updated each other with even the tiniest things over the passing seasons, it was beyond endearing. You both couldn't deny there was a hint of growing affection as time flew by. Hinata was so refreshing and he fills you with a burst of energy, like an energy drink. It was after the new year when you and Hinata agreed to meet each other in person.

With flushed cheeks, you and he met each other dressed in layered clothes because winter had recently passed. You two visited the shrine, talked, and got food. The longer Hinata looked at you, the more he realized he was inevitably falling for you. Before the wonderful day ended, Hinata gained the courage to wrap you in his scarf and took your gloved hands. Your cheeks felt warmer than summer that day.

"I like you, [Name]"

He confesses. You could not contain yourself because you threw your arms around the smaller male and kissed him on the cheek. Hinata almost fainted on the spot. After that day, both of you decided to start dating. It was a year later when you both became official. Somehow with you in college and him in his third year, you both made it work.

Hinata was the perfect combination of a gentleman and a sweetheart that it made you swoon. Despite the height difference, he always carried you with ease. He gave you thoughtful gifts during your birthday and anniversaries. And your parents adored him so much too. You truly felt Hinata was the missing half of your soul.

"I'm going to Brazil"

You turn your head to look at him but Hinata avoids your eyes. Both of you were overlooking the sea after a fun date. You raised a brow.

"Why?"

You asked and he explained how he wanted to train in outdoor volleyball in a different country, he told you how he wanted to try different things, and he said that he wanted to find more ways to grow as an athlete. You chuckled. Yep, it was definitely something Hinata would do and you do admire him for that quality. Yet, you couldn't deny the ache in your chest thinking about how you'd be separated from him for god knows how long.

Hinata's lip wobbles when you reach down to clutch his hand, he can tell how hurt you will be because of his decision. However, you reassure him with a smile. All you want is what's best for him and what makes him happy. And this fills his heart to the brim.

"I'll be back before you know it"

"I'll be waiting for you, Sho"

You kissed him. Hinata realizes you were wearing the scarf he gave to you after he first confessed how he liked you, and he goes teary-eyed. Eventually, you accompanied him to the airport and gave him the tightest hug and longest kiss you could offer. Hinata couldn't wait to return to you. As you two talked over before, video calls were frequent. Even if over time it wasn't often, you two always maintained a connection.

Brazil seemed to be a fitting place for your boyfriend. All the pictures he sent to you of his progress showed how happy he was and you couldn't be more proud. He'd tell you about his journey with outdoor volleyball and learning Portuguese during video calls. One time he sent a picture of him and Oikawa Tooru coincidentally meeting there.

Although you felt lonely without Hinata by your side, you pushed through, because you knew he was bound to come home soon. Soon enough, Hinata returned to Japan and played in his new team the MSBY Black Jackals. You immediately got tickets to see him play against Adlers. You couldn't believe your eyes when Hinata made his entrance in the court after many years apart, tears welled up in your eyes when your boyfriend grinned at you.

He was here, he's finally home.

But god, it was hard to focus on what was going on with the match. Hinata looked so much hotter that it made you involuntary drool. First of all, the tan looks so good on him. And his muscles? Oh man, you couldn't wait to get some alone time with your boyfriend. You couldn't help the shameless ogling since you've been separated from him for so long.

You didn't mind who won the match, you were proud that your boyfriend was having a blast on the court. But when MSBY won, you leaped up from your seat and clapped for your boyfriend. Immediately after the match, Hinata went searching for you.

"Shoyo!"

"[Name]!"

You laughed as you ran up into his arms. Hinata scoops you up effortlessly and spins you around like you weigh nothing. You cling to him tightly with your arms around his neck while he presses tender kisses against your face. It felt like coming home. People watching the scene whistled and giggled with each other.

"I'm home, babe"

"Welcome home, love"

You two walked hand in hand as Hinata introduced you to his team. They all cheered and gave him wolfish grins. Hinata tries to shush them down with a blush when they invite you to go out for celebratory drinks. Your boyfriend's eyes bulged out of their sockets when you accepted the invitation.

So here you were, dancing in the club with a drink in hand. Sure, you were tipsy but you were far from drunk. You vibed with Bokuto Koutaro and Miya Atsumu from Hinata's team. Your boyfriend admittedly had one too many shots than he planned. He finished another round of alcohol before settling down near the bartender. His teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi was there scolding him with a frown.

He spots you within the crowd dancing with Bokuto and Atsumu, he had the sudden urge to join too but his vision was beginning to spin. God, he hadn't drunk this much since his first year in Brazil. He tries to sober himself up with water from the bartender. From the looks of it, you were having the time of your life with his two teammates.

Slowly, a disgusting feeling rose within Hinata. No, he didn't feel like vomiting. He frowned when Atsumu spun you around on the dancefloor. It felt vague but familiar. He later realizes it was jealousy. Hinata sat up straight in his stool, that was childish! He's no longer a high schooler! He shouldn't be feeling green with envy. But he couldn't stop watching you laugh with Bokuto and Atsumu.

That envy eventually melted. Damn, he hated drinking because it made him emotional! Hinata thinks back to you and thought how lonely you must've been without him. He thought about how unfair it was for you to leave you for his improvement. You were probably aching with yearning for his touch and love while he was on the other side of the globe. You must be frustrated when you couldn't video call him often because of the different time zones.

Hinata's breath hitches. You're probably thinking about replacing him. God, what a horrible boyfriend he was! He's so selfish and you had every right to feel angry about it. Sakusa watched the shorter male stumble up from his seat and exit the club, he was about to follow him out but he hesitated. When you go searching for your boyfriend, Sakusa informs you that he has left the club.

You left multiple missed calls as you tried to contact Hinata. You sat outside the club with the rest of his teammates, worrying for half an hour. You almost collapsed with relief when he texted you "hotel" after so many attempts.

Hinata was lying on top of his hotel bed with his eyes puffy from sobbing. He felt so bad for abandoning you and making you worry. You truly don't deserve him. Suddenly, there's a soft knock on the door followed by your voice softly calling him. Hinata didn't respond as he sulked on his bed.

"Please, love. I just want to talk"

You pleaded. Unable to resist you, Hinata pulls himself up and trudges towards the door. You swiftly cupped his face in your hands when you saw the dejected look on his face.

"What's wrong, Sho?"

"I think we should break up"

Your heart comes to a screeching halt but you furiously shake your head. You can smell the alcohol in his breath and you know he was only intoxicated. Hinata didn't stop you from entering his hotel room as you shut the door and ushered him back to bed.

"Babe, we're not breaking up. You're just drunk"

"But I'm a horrible boyfriend!"

Hinata buried his face against his hands and the sight made your chest ache.

"Shoyo, you're not"

"Yes, I am. I'm so...selfish! And! And cruel! I left you here in Japan while I was being happy in Brazil"

You sighed as you picked his hands off from his face and held them tightly in your hands. You gave him a stern look.

"That's not true, Sho"

"Yes, it is! You should leave me and be happy with another guy that won't leave you. Find someone who's...*hiccup* taller! And better than volleyball!"

He turns to you with teary-eyes

"You should go date UshiWaka instead—OUCH!"

You scowled as you pinched his ear, harshly. Hinata winced as he saw the look on your face. You had enough of his drunken nonsense.

"I'm not going to break up with you, you idiot! And I'm not especially dating UshiWaka!"

You yell and your boyfriend whimpers at your scolding.

"You're drunk and none of those insecure thoughts are true!"

For emphasis, you force him to look at the mirror near the bed by grabbing his jaw and twisting his face towards the mirror, Hinata sniffs.

"Look how hot you are! You got a tan and you look more...beefier!"

"But I left you—"

"NO YOU DIDN'T, YOU DUMBASS!"

This time you smacked him in the head, which you immediately regretted. Was there any way for you to convince your dumbass boyfriend that he's the best in the world? While Hinata rubbed the place where you smacked him in the head, his heart froze when he saw a dark look on your face.

Oh no, was he in danger?

Nope, he was way far from danger. Hinata's safe, in your arms, sobbing, half-naked, and with his rock-hard dick in your hand. You were positioned behind him with your face buried against the crook of your boyfriend's neck. Hinata's breath was labored as his vision went hazy from pleasure.

"[Name]—ah!"

He whined and involuntarily bucked his hips upward when you began massaging his cockhead. Your cheek rubs against his right temple as you place chaste kisses down his neck. Hinata shudders. It seemed like he was suddenly sober with the way you began jerking him off in front of the mirror. There was no way he could've predicted this at all.

"Look at the mirror, look how pretty you are, Sho"

You purred against his ear. His eyes met his reflection and he nearly rolled his eyes back. He was half-naked with his legs spread and his orange locks were disheveled. He positively looked like a hot mess, moaning and sweating while you gave him a mindblowing handjob from behind. Fuck, your hand felt like magic around his cock. He let out a strangled moan when you started playing with his balls.

"Oh? Does my beloved boyfriend like it when I play with his balls?"

"[Name] please—"

"Do you want me to go faster?"

"Yes, hah—please"

When the pace of your hand turns faster, Hinata goes cross-eyed. He can feel his orgasm approaching and it's stealing his every breath. Your free hand grabs his jaw and forces him to watch himself fall apart in front of the mirror.

"You're the sweetest and kindest boyfriend in the world, Shoyo"

You whispered against his ear. Hinata whimpers as tears begin to gather in his lashline. The look on your face was sincere and tender and it soothes the ache in his heart.

"You always make me smile with your funny jokes and your cute smile"

"You have a heart of gold"

"My boyfriend is so sweet, loving, hardworking, and talented"

You showered him with compliments and it makes Hinata lightheaded. He feels like he's getting drunk again from the pleasure of your hand vigorously pumping his cock and from your affectionate reassurances. Suddenly, the pace of your hand slows down as you look at your boyfriend in the eye through the mirror.

"Do you want to know what I was thinking about when I heard you were coming home?"

Hinata inhales sharply as he catches his breath, his hands were clutching on both of your thighs as he gripped on for dear life. He gulps.

"Wh—what?"

You chuckled darkly as you went in to bite his earlobe with a devilish smile.

"I was thinking about you bending me in half and fucking me in your hotel room until I couldn't walk for a week"

With the confession, it plants a lewd and tantalizing imagery in your boyfriend's head. Fuck, were you thinking about that all along while you were waiting for him to get home? All this time, you just wanted Hinata to dick you down? Oh, he loved that thought as much as it embarrassed him. He does want to bury his cock in you until you saw stars—

"Ah, ah, ah! [Name]!"

Hinata screams your name as his orgasm crashes down on him. You watched your boyfriend burst through the seams with a choked sob as he threw his head back. Spurts of his cum coat both your hands and his abdomen. You gently guided him through his release. As soon as Hinata's vision re-focuses, he sees you smiling at him through the mirror. He couldn't help but smile back.

"How's that? Did that get rid of those stupid insecure thoughts, Sho?"

"It did, thank you, [Name]"

He reaches to kiss you on the cheek and you giggle. You were prepared to help Hinata clean up and cuddle to sleep with him but he suddenly grabs your arm. You flinch and look at your boyfriend, your heart skips a beat when you recognize a carnal look in his eyes.

"...Can I bend you in half and fuck you until you couldn't walk?"

Hinata asks politely. You can't even answer because he's already tugging your pants down with an eager grin on his face.

— ♬ Yamaguchi Tadashi

You perceived Yamaguchi Tadashi as a modest and hardworking co-worker. Some would say he's a cute guy and you'd agree. He'd show up early for work and would greet everyone with a smile. It was because of that smile that urged you to wake up early so that he could greet you. Your closest colleges would tease you during lunch break about your tiny crush on the guy, it felt silly blushing about it because it made you feel more like a high schooler than an adult.

Sooner though, you tried to make subtle advances on Yamaguchi. You'd begin to dress nicely for work and he'd notice and then compliment you. If you got to work earlier, you'd buy him coffee which he was grateful for. You began ditching your friends during lunch break to ask him if he wanted to eat lunch with you. And you and he began hanging out outside of work.

You continued for a month and became close with Yamaguchi. In return, he would share snippets about his life. He offered you glimpses of his interests like his favorite kind of Onigiri and how he used to play volleyball back in high school. After a long period of denial, you recognize that you have become head over heels with Yamaguchi.

Naturally, you panicked. You didn't know how to deal with these affections for your co-worker. You began to overthink. Would he ever return your feelings? Should you confess? Is he even your type? These thoughts send you into a frenzy that you can't sleep properly at night. One day, you arrive at work with a fever. You didn't recognize it at first until you found yourself unable to perform any work that day.

"[Name]? Are you okay?"

Yamaguchi peeked at you and saw you with your head resting on top of your desk. Your skin was flushed so he instinctively went to check your temperature by pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.

"You caught a fever! You should go home!"

He insisted. You groaned as you cast a tired look at him. Yamaguchi was sending you a concerned look that made your skin more flushed at the thought of how he must've genuinely cared for you. So, in a feverish delirium, you suddenly confessed to him.

"I'm in love with you, Tadashi"

Yamaguchi momentarily froze. Eventually, he gently leads you by the hand, wraps you in his jacket, and takes you home. You couldn't forget how he took care of you. He bought you medicine and cooked you soup. He constantly checked on your temperature. It was no surprise that you had a quick recovery. You were eternally grateful for his kindness.

"Oh, how will I ever repay you, Tadashi?"

"Go on a date with me"

He replies and your heart leaps out of your chest. It turns out, Yamaguchi reciprocated your feelings. Your romance with him began smoothly. You and he became famous for being the co-workers who fell in love with each other and started dating. There was an onslaught of teasing and bantering for a while from both of your colleagues.

You and Yamaguchi became official six months later. He took you out on cute dates and never missed an anniversary. He introduces you to his closest friends from high school and you introduce him to your family. Everything felt like a picturesque love story, that's what you thought.

Although Yamaguchi was happy with you, he didn't feel worthy of everything. He used to have trouble with accepting his worth even back when he was playing volleyball in high school. He had doubts about his abilities and took a long time of encouragement from other people to help him believe in his capabilities. But for some reason, it's beginning to feel bad again.

Somehow, within himself, Yamaguchi finds it difficult to accept how ordinary he is. Perhaps after being surrounded by extraordinary and talented people such as his friends back in high school, he's convinced that there isn't anything special about him. He's just...ordinary. And he's afraid that you'd grow bored of him or expect something from him that he couldn't offer.

Your boyfriend has been quiet during the following days. He's been reassuring you that he was okay or that he was just tired from work, but know him well enough that something was bothering him. Now, you're cuddling under the sheets with him while a movie plays in the background. You were relaxing with Yamaguchi after a stressful week at work. Usually, you and your boyfriend would talk or joke around during peaceful moments like these, but he's uncharacteristically quiet.

"Babe? Are you okay?"

"...Yeah, I'm good"

He answers distractedly and it bothers you. Yamaguchi sees you sitting up and your hand reaches to touch his cheek. He instinctively leans against your touch, but the look of uncertainty etched across his features. He felt guilty for not sharing his troubles with you, after all, you wanted an honest relationship with him. But his insecurities were preventing him from being open with you. He was afraid that you would leave him if you found out he was lying to you. Yamaguchi takes a sharp inhale.

"...[Name], do you think I'm boring?"

He asks. You raised a brow at him and tilted your head.

"No, why would you think of that?"

"I know you said we should be honest and...and I just want you to tell me if you're getting...bored of me"

"Babe, I'm not bored of you"

You rolled your eyes. Yamaguchi averts his gaze as he peels himself away from your touch. Concern flashes through your orbs.

"Tadashi? What's wrong?"

"I...I think I'm not the right guy for you, [Name]"

Your boyfriend replies as he faces away from you. There was an offended look on your face, you crawled towards him and embraced him from behind.

"That's not true, honey. I knew you were the one for me when you took care of me when I was sick"

"But...but what if..."

"What if...?"

"What if you grow sick of me?"

You frowned. Yamaguchi sounded like he was on the verge of sobbing and it honestly sent an awful feeling in your chest.

"What if you grow sick of me? What if I can't give you what you want anymore? What if I can't be enough for you? What if I'm stuck with being ordinary?"

He began to ramble and you have to stop him by grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. You shook your head and gave him a stern look.

"That's stupid. I'll never be sick of you, love. And what's wrong with being ordinary?"

Yamaguchi doesn't seem to be reassured when he turns away and stares at his reflection in your large mirror by the bedside. He takes in his features, his ordinary features. There were dark bags under his eyes, his complexion was pale, and his lips looked dry. He buries his face against his hands and feels his eyes grow wet. The sight of your boyfriend in despair because of his inner demons was heartbreaking for you. If only there was a way to comfort him, to knock some sense out of him, to...

An idea spawns in your head. Your eyes trailed on your boyfriend's hunched figure. You gulped. Out of all the ideas possible, an...inappropriate one has to be the one that seemed foolproof. You wanted to hold back thinking Yamaguchi wouldn't be okay with it, but the idea seemed so...attractive and tempting that your mind screamed for you to give it a try. Who knows? Your beloved boyfriend might enjoy it.

Puzzled, Yamaguchi can feel your hand wrapping around his waist. He was about to pull them away until your hands began to pry on the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitched as you positioned from behind him and pulled his pants down. An embarrassed yelp exits his mouth when you expose his lower half.

"[Name]! Wh—what are you do—doing—oh shit!"

You wrapped your delicate hands around his dick and he hisses. Yamaguchi's heart begins to palpitate wildly against his ears. He scrambles as his hands reach out to grab the sheets. His breath comes to a halt when you begin to give languid strokes on his cock. When your boyfriend melts under your touch you take it as a sign to continue.

"You doing good, baby?"

Yamaguchi nods as you smiled and ran your hand on his cockhead to smear the forming pre-cum all over his length. He shudders at the intoxicating sensation. He whimpers when you experimentally began toying with his ballsack. One of his hands went to grab your thigh. You leaned your face against his ear and exhaled.

"God, look at you, Tadashi"

Reluctantly, Yamaguchi trails his eyes to the mirror by the bedside. His eyes went wide at the lewd sight. He was half-naked with his fully-erect cock in your hands while you stroked him from behind. Sweat gathered all over his body and his skin was flushed. He looked pathetically submissive under your touch. It would be a lie if he said he didn't like it.

"Does my boyfriend want to cum?"

"Oh fuck—yes, please"

With his plead, your hand around his member speeds up. The pace sends him whining out loud and throwing his head back. Suddenly, you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look towards the mirror.

"I want you to look at yourself when you cum like a good boy"

You whispered hotly against his ear and his breathing just stops. Yamaguchi goes cross-eyed when you began to jerk him off even faster.

"When I look in the mirror, I don't see an ordinary man. I see my sweetest boyfriend in the world"

"It's heartbreaking to know you see yourself as boring when you were everything to me, Tadashi"

"No ordinary man would be more capable of stealing my heart than you, darling"

Yamaguchi gazes at you in the eye through the mirror and his heart simply melts. He knows you meant every word and at that moment he never felt so loved. You laugh as you playfully bite the shell of his ear.

"With you moaning like that babe, I think I want to call in sick tomorrow so you can fuck me until the morning"

Oh fuck

The idea was enough to send Yamaguchi to the edge. You watched with satisfaction as he wildly bucks his hips up with his eyes rolled back, completely at the mercy of his release. His rich cum landed on your hands as you stared with fascination. After his earth-shattering orgasm, Yamaguchi goes limp in your arms. You wait until he catches his breath.

"How is my hardworking, handsome, and sweet boyfriend doing?"

He chuckles as he sits upright and regains his composure. Your boyfriend turns around and gives you a tender kiss. He gently strokes your hair.

"Thank you, [Name]. I needed that"

"Anything for you, Tadashi"

You smile brightly up at him. The movie in the background ended with the credits rolling, Yamaguchi glances at the clock and hums in thought.

"I think I'm going to call in sick tomorrow"

"Huh? Why?"

There was a suggestive look on your boyfriend's face that it sends an exciting shiver down your spine.

"How about we both call in sick tomorrow and let me fuck you how you like it, yeah?"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[cassatine]

my conclave review i guess! i was going to gush in chat but then. too many words.

so literally all i knew about it going in was (1) a cardinal vapes in it (2) probably it's about a conclave?? (3) good vibes according to dashboard osmosis. the cinematography was a+, which i always appreciate. i liked that on one level it's a perfect comedy, really fucking funny in a sort of understated way. the beginning kinda reminded me of the death of stalin, what with the inciting event being the guy at the top of the hierarchy dying… somehow excellent comedy setup. at the very beginning, when lawrence & co struggle a bit to take the ring off the pope's corpse and it's all so ritualized, that's when i knew it was going to be Funny.

but beyond the fact that it was funnier than i expected... i liked the layers. most of all i think i liked the earnestness. ralph fiennes mid-crisis of faith, hating his job, trying to be a moral man in a system that is broken?? chef's kiss. the other cardinals of note were also nicely layered, like adeyemi? it would have been so easy to just stop at his being homophobic and treat his having had a kid being revealed as comeuppance but the way he cries and asks lawrence to pray with him… he sucks and it's a good thing he's taken off the race but it also happens for the wrong reason. bellini who's lying to himself and everyone else over not wanting to be the pope when he so clearly does and still letting himself be bought by the promise of a nice post… and yet he is not just an hypocrite. he sees he failed. he apologizes. he is only human. tedesco could have been a one note villain but he's the coolest dude around, and on a fundamental level that's part of what makes him dangerous: he's a reactionary and a bigot but he makes it kinda sexy. you want to like him; he's fun to watch and he has style, something the other cardinals probably wouldn't recognize if it hit them in the face. benitez. well. benitez is jesus. sister agnes was neat, it's a bit sad we don't really get to know her but she's indispensable and i love that for her. like. here's a bunch of dudes with all the decisional power who expect her to just exist in the background doing the menial work and then her printer expertise ends up being vital, and in general lawrence wouldn't have managed as well without her support… noice.

the end feels a bit easy, like lbr benitez being elected pope because he made a nice speech is ludicrous, but also… it works for me?

(1) on some level the film is about the difficulties of trying to be a moral person in a system that does not reward being moral. sure it's about faith and doubt and the limitations of organized religion. it's about catty bitches vying for power in a ritualized way that, on some level, speaks of an institution that ossified, that resists change (and on that note: benitez, obviously-the-best candidate only gets elected because people skirt the isolation rules, because the outside world intrudes. also because he is jesus.) it's stated near the beginning that the pope hadn't lost faith in god but in the church, and through the movie we can see why, all the machinations and the thirst for power and the fallibility of the men within the institution. through lawrence we see how much easier it would be to just… stop trying, to do the convenient thing, the easy thing, rather than the right thing, and to find justifications for that: better not make waves and better not make a scandal, for the sake of electing a blandly liberal pope rather than tedesco. and who would disagree? sure, better a bland liberal than reactionary tedesco. but then comes the ethical quandary: should the goal of avoiding one evil mean closing your eyes to another? should you forsake your sense of right and wrong for the greater good? too often i think we are told to prioritize the greater good, and maybe sometimes we should. but maybe sometimes we shouldn't. maybe sometimes we should hold to our principles. in the end, benitez being elected pope isn't going to miraculously make the catholic church and its agents unproblematic. but it is a win, and it happens because lawrence kept choosing to do (what he believes is) the right thing, the moral thing, even when it's not easy, even when it's inconvenient, even when he's told he's being naive and hurting the greater cause. and i appreciate that message.

(2) as i said: benitez is jesus. the film is a parable… it's a story about how jesus showed up, completedly unexpected, in the middle of the church his disciples built, and because the church is made up of people and people are flawed and faillible and too busy with things like power, they did not notice jesus walking among them. at least not until god (metaphorically) shone a light on him. like yes sure the way benitez ends up the one elected is ludicrous but!! it took an act of god. not the bombs per se. but the tragedy of it intruding into the isolated conclave? the windows exploding, the light coming in, this is what allows the true stakes to become clear again, and for benitez's love thy neighbour speech to take place at all - a speech contrasted with tedesco's own, all the style stripped from him, making it clear he is a man who reaches for hate and not compassion. it's a parable!! it takes a tragedy. it takes an act of god.

[meanbossart]

What horror games have you played/wanted to play? Also have you tried any rpg maker horrors?

I actually don't play that many horror games, I don't think? Between you and me most of them are... Kind of garbagee. But I like when really weird things are taken dead seriously, which most video games don't succeed at. But in the rare time they DO, it usually falls into the "horror" genre at least loosely. I'm just going to list my favorites:

PS: I'm really showing how insufferable I am with these summaries, sorry!

The Outlast series: the most Tasteful tasteless gory-shit-fest of a horror series I've ever seen. I don't like shock for the sake of shock, and Outlast somehow manages to always make it for the sake of SOMETHING. The original game+DLC is a buttload of fun, and if you pull back one layer it also poses some interesting and difficult questions about the place and treatment of the criminally inclined in society. Pull yet another layer back and you find a fascinating subversion of the expected role men are supposed to inhabit in horror games. The second game is a vastly different, and profoundly emotional experience, opinions on it vary for reasons I find very understandable, but I personally really like it.

Fear & Hunger: I guess this answers your question about RPG horror games! Unfortunately, this is the only one I ever played that I liked, but REALLY like it, I have a tattoo of the circle of perfection on the back of my hand, even, lol (I already had other hand tats, don't freak out). I just really like the absurdity of the story and all of the lore that the developer has cooked up for it, and the way it all matters but also kind of doesn't. I think its an insane feat to have achieved the atmosphere he did with the limited tools he has, not to mention the massive amount of respect I have for any creator that simultaneously wears their influences on their sleeves while displaying massive creativity and originality.

Pathologic: This game kind of speaks for itself honestly. Its just brutal, creative, infuriating, I could go on - It's probably the most immersive experience I've ever had in a game. If you've never played it before I would suggest buying Pathologic 2 (don't worry about it) and playing it completely blind. Forget about "winning", forget even about succeeding, just go about it as if you were in the protagonist's shoes and see where you leads you.

Scorn: Without a doubt in my top 5 games of all time and I don't care that that is an insane take. This game is everything I want from interactive stories - entirely intuitive, doesn't spoonfeed you a single grain of its lore or pushes its story on you, it just puts the pieces in your hands and its up to you to feel it on instinct. This 5 hour game with no dialogue, no text, not even any named characters to speak of had me crying at its ending and I didn't even know whether I was sad or overjoyed. I fucking LOVE scorn.

Honorable mention:

The Space Between by Christoph Frey (not to be confused with The Space INbetween.): Is a short, 30 minute experience about intimacy presented through a horror lens. I really don't want to say anything else about it, but I played it like 5 years ago and I still hold it near and dear to my heart. It's a master's guide to storytelling through semiotics and exemplary in it's... Emotionally charged visuals? Like, I had never before seen a story make sentiment into and external, tangible thing quite like this one does, like turning sound into an object or something. Amazing little indie game.

[stevesgother]

Strange - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 2.1k

Contains - angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction, mentions of childhood trauma, exes to lovers, second chance romance

AN - Part 2 of 'Little Red Lighthouse' ! for the sake of not having to use “y/n” bc i hate it, reader goes by Lizzy. Use your imagination idk

'Isn't it strange/how people can change/from strangers to friends/friends into lovers/and strangers again.' - 'Strange' by Celeste

There was a biting chill to the air as you sat shoulder to shoulder on a rock overlooking the lake with your best friend. The shadow from the towering lighthouse did nothing to help your lack of warmth, but the heat radiating off Steve’s body beside you almost made up for it. In his hands he held a worn piece of notebook paper adorned with his signature scratchy handwriting, slightly crumpled from hours of reading and rereading; frustration bleeding between the inky blue lines.

“I don’t even know why I'm bothering with this shit,” he sighs, “dad thinks college is a waste of time anyway,” he gives the paper one last squeeze in his fist before chucking it into the water.

“Steve!--” you practically shriek, “what’d you do that for?!”

“Cause’ Liz, we both know I’m not getting accepted anywhere worth going to,” he says with finality, like he’s already made up his mind despite it only being January, “and you’re gonna go somewhere fancy schmancy like Feinburg while I rot here,”

“Well certainly with that attitude you will,” he shoots you a deadpan look from where his head is propped in his hands. “Stop worrying about what your parents want, Steve. What do you want?”

“Right now I want to get off this boulder. It’s fuckin’ freezing out here,” the end of his sentence is muffled by his cupped hands around his mouth, huffing into them in an attempt to bring some warmth back into his numbing fingertips.

“I’m perfect, actually.” you feign self-assuredness just to tease him. He knows you’re cold too, the tip of your nose is bright red and frozen to the touch, giving you away.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yeah” you chirp, “I am,”

“Oh, okay,” just then he slides what could've been an icicle but really was just a frigid hand up your shirt and presses it firmly to the small of your balmy back, earning a squeal from you.

“Asshole!” you shove him away playfully and he removes his hand, deciding for once, to spare you. 

You spend the rest of the night bundled under layers of quilts, watching movies your mother rented from Family Video that afternoon as snow falls from the pale sky in big, fat flakes. At some point during the second film, you feel yourself curl into his lap where he’s seated on your sofa, fighting and losing a battle with sleep. Just before slumber overtakes you, you note the feeling of his hand tracing soothing circles over your spine. The arm that isn’t holding you against his torso snakes around to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, selfishly so he can steal an unobstructed view of your peaceful expression.

He almost enjoys being with you more when you’re sleeping. Not because he doesn’t adore listening to your winding tangents or your infectious laughter, but because you can’t see him unabashedly staring at you when your eyes have drifted shut like they are now. It’s as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis and time has halted just for him. His own personal sleeping beauty. You looked like the rest of his life.

Memories have a mortifying way of appearing gold in hindsight; nostalgia like a knife that’s gutted him, leaving him emptier than he was before. Now, whenever the air gets older, Steve is reminded of how your presence used to feel.

–

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Stepping into his orbit for the first time in all these years, the love you still have for him beats inside your chest like a second heart. You long to reach out and touch him, to weave your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and nuzzle your face into the tender skin of his neck, to cry how sorry you are and ask “How could you let me leave you?’--

“You look well,” the low register of his voice shakes you from your spiral and you remember with a sharp pang of guilt just how long it's been since you heard him speak. You feel like he’s taller now than when you left, even though he hit his last growth spurt during the last summer you spent together. A soft dusting of hair that wasn’t there before graces his upper lip. That cheeky, boyish charm you always loved had suddenly morphed into something more gruff. It made your stomach churn.

“Thanks, I don’t–” you cut yourself off with a soft shake of your head, “Thanks, Steve. You do too,”

He gives a meek shrug as he glances down at himself. There was simultaneously so much and yet nothing at all to say, and the silence was suffocating.

“How long are you in town for?” he asks, hoping the answer is indefinitely but knowing it won’t be.

“For a week, then I have to go back to the city,” you struggle to ignore the subtle disappointment that flashes across his features. “I was offered an internship in graphic design. It starts next month.” You say with a tight lipped smile. You wished you wanted that, but now that you were home, all you wanted was to stand under Steve’s gaze like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“That’s wonderful, Lizzy. I’m really happy for you.” Of course he was happy for you. If this was what you wanted, Steve was thrilled for you. But in all the 15 years you’d been inseparable, he’d never once seen you take an interest in graphic design. Maybe it was because your father was an architect. Your mother, an artist. To not follow in their footsteps, Steve knew, would make you feel like you failed them. It doesn’t change the way he can see your expression faltering when you utter even a word about your future career.

“You– what about you? Are you working for your dad?” 

“No, actually, I took over for Hopper. At the station.”

This time, Steve’s blessed with your real smile. A genuine one. You never wanted the alternative for Steve. Being constantly surrounded by corporate goons, taking over the family business just to be miserable and burnt out in less than a decade. The boy never could make up his mind about what it was that he really wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t that. The trouble was, Steve only ever felt like he belonged somewhere when he was anywhere with you.

A gentle hand to his bicep sends him reeling, and it’s all he can do not grab you by your shoulders and pull you into his chest with as much force as he can muster. But the moment is gone as soon as it arrives, and you’re being whisked away by some other friend who’s vying for your attention. Absently he wonders if he left, would people miss him the way they seemed to have missed you? He supposes it’s best not to dwell.

–

When you arrive home later, the house is empty with a note from your parents stuck to the fridge claiming they’re out tonight. You’re grateful for the reprieve from socialization as you pad your way upstairs and down the hall towards your childhood bedroom.

It looks almost identical to when you left it, with the exception of a spare unrecognizable object here or there. Things your parents must have picked up for you at some point with the hopes of being able to give it to you the next time you visited home, but never could. Your mother had made your bed neatly, adorned with all the stuffed animals and bedding from your youth. Everywhere you turned, there were mementos of your lifelong friendship with Steve. Greyscale photo booth pictures, old movie stubs and the dried remnants of the corsage he gave you for prom. It was a memorial; a cemetery of your life together.

When you finally managed to lie down, all you did was toss and turn until the analog clock tick tick ticking on your wall informed you it was one A.M. In your sleep deprived haze you absentmindedly sat up and reached for the baby blue corded phone resting on your nightstand. It was only when you brought the phone to your ear and heard the droning dial tone that you realized what you were doing, and set the phone back in its cradle. Your fingers ached to press the digits to the only number you knew by heart: Steve Harrington.

–

You weren’t sure why your mom kept renewing her Cosmopolitan subscription for you, since you hardly took interest in the issues, but she did nonetheless. Tonight, struggling to find something more productive to do, your curiosity got the better of you as you mindlessly flipped through the pages with freshly manicured nails. It was a Friday, and the prospect of sleeping in tomorrow delighted you. You were in no hurry to get to bed. 

Just then you heard the shrill ringing of the new phone your parents got you to keep in your bedroom for your birthday. You knew it had to be at least twelve o’clock in the morning. Only one person would be calling you at this hour.

“Hello?”

“Hey, can I– can I come over?” Steve's voice was hushed and trembling. Muffled yelling could be heard in the background over his unsteady breathing.

“Steve? Yeah, ‘course, I'll unlock my window,” you pause, “everything okay?”

“Yeah just– I’ll be there in ten,” and with that you heard the receiver click back into its place on the wall.

Magazine having been discarded on the floor next to your bed, you sat at your desk, knee bouncing rapidly as you waited for Steve to climb through your window like he had dozens of times before. At sixteen, you’d be caught dead having a boy in your room at this hour, even if it was just Steve.

You hear a soft tap tap tap on the glass, signifying his arrival. In a rush, you hurry over to your window to help him in. When he regains his balance with both feet on your carpeted floor, you’re finally able to get a good look at him. He’s bleary eyed and his nose is chapped raw, like he’d been rubbing at it continuously for hours. 

“Hey,” you say softly with a gentle hand to his forearm, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You feel guilty pressing him on the matter immediately, but you can count on one hand the amount of times you've seen Steve genuinely distressed. Last Halloween when Nancy Wheeler had proclaimed that he and their whole relationship was ‘bullshit’ had been the last time.

“Mom and dad were fighting. I guess– I guess he found these pills she’s been taking? I don’t know,” he looks dejected as he fidgets with the hem of his sweater, “Jus’ couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

Your eyes round into saucers when you looked to him, concern gracing your features. It was always something with the Harringtons. If they weren’t screaming at each other, they were screaming at Steve. Catherine had substance abuse issues, John was violent. Broken dishes and holes punched in drywall were becoming the norm. All Steve wanted was a way out; an escape. You gave that to him. Always.

Without another word, you propped yourself up on your tiny twin bed and motioned with open arms for him to come lie with you. He accepted the invitation instantly, sinking down into the mattress with you. His head rested on your chest, just above your rapidly beating heart. A heart that beat for him alone. You silently prayed he knew that.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and softly petting his hair, you felt two distinct drops of tears land on the silky satin of your pajama shirt. You attempted not to make a scene, with the knowledge of how difficult it was for him to be vulnerable. Instead, you simply continued your ministrations on the back of his head and held him a little tighter.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” you whispered against the crown of his head, “You’re safe now. We’re gonna get out of here someday, y'know? I promise.”

He nodded bleakly in acknowledgment against your sternum as his tears fell a little quicker and a little harder. “Okay,” he whimpered. The sound nearly tore you in two.

You’d never intended on breaking that promise. Not really.

–

Against your better judgement, you reached for your phone a second time and dialed his number for the first time in five years. You hoped he didn’t get a new landline.

His voice was gravely and thick with grogginess when he picked up after six torturous rings, “Hello?”

“Meet me tomorrow. DiBella’s. Ten o’clock.”

You slammed the phone back into the receiver before you had time to regret it.

taglist: @sheisjoeschateau, @ohwauwdoritos

divider credit to @/strangergraphics