#i really really really need to put my thoughts on text

[cupidkenji]

slowing down

Now playing: slowing down - the backseat lovers whisper in my ear that you need me Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!Reader CW: smut, drugging, noncon (putting this as noncon but the MC is into it. However, they are under the influence so they cannot consent.), toxic ex bf trope, he's kind of manipulative sorry, p in v, praise, mocking, possessiveness, creampie, this is literally deplorable i'm sorry, kinda ooc, university AU Summary: Four months after breaking up with your boyfriend, your roommate asks you to pick her up. Of course he had to be there. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but in this she's literally not described. WC: 3.7k

this is disgusting and i'm sorry, please head the warnings. this is also not beta'd or proofread. i am tired and going to bed. sorry if this sucks.

The mildly run down apartment of a random university boy was an unfortunate place to find yourself when you had the option of being anywhere else. The brick walls were cracking and the water from the current rainfall made a sheen over the building that resembled porcelain. The glistening building was taunting and never ending as you stared up at the top floor, a single window open and seeping dim lighting out into the dark streets. Smoke was billowing out of it, bringing the scent of weed and the sound of laughter down into the depths of the road with you. You didn’t know how your roommate knew this guy, or why she came here if she didn’t have a ride planned, but you moved forward regardless. The front door was heavy, greasy and gray but lacking any security measures that were common for entry. There wasn’t even a front desk, just a desolate lobby that sat in front of an elevator. 

She’d told you where to find her in the text she’d sent twenty minutes ago, begging you to come get her and successfully misspelling words that you’d thought impossible to type incorrectly. It wouldn’t have been difficult regardless, even without the guidance. It was midnight, most people who inhabited the building were either out at their own parties or asleep. The only room that harbored audible life was the one she was pointing you to, and you were less than eager to walk into a room with a group of who knows how many intoxicated strangers. You didn’t even know her that well, just that she was keen to partying, and was usually able to find her own way home. You figured she must be truly desperate to resort to you, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no. 

The knocking you did felt like it bruised your knuckles. You hadn’t hit the door hard, but making any noise in the stillness of the hallway felt like a disservice. There was a penetrating calm in the building if you ignored the music leaking from your destination. It seemed wrong. When the door opened, smoke invaded your lungs quicker than you were anticipating, and you fought the urge to cough it up. The owner of the apartment had come to let you in. You recognized him vaguely from campus and knew of him only through stories you’d heard whispered between the girls he’d been with. You just wanted to go home. 

A giggly drawl of your name sounded out from behind him, and he stepped back from the doorway to let you lay your eyes on your roommate. You had no idea what she’d consumed over the past few hours, but she seemed loopy and out of it. You walked through the doorway with your eyes stuck to her, thinking about how the fuck you were gonna get her home in this state. She was practically rag dolling on the small loveseat that sat in the living room. She appeared in her own world, and you really didn’t want to haul her back to the car in front of however many people were in here. You hadn’t looked up, going and leaning over her for a moment. She looked right through you, staring at the ceiling with a permanent uptick of her lips carved on her face. She was giddy, and seemingly glued to the furniture. Her pupils nearly encased her irises and you knew she wasn’t moving anytime soon. How she managed to request your assistance in this state was beyond you. 

You heard the man who opened the door return to his seat behind you. It wasn’t loud, not like a party, you assumed there were maybe three people besides your roommate there. You were now in probably the most uncomfortable situation of your life - alone with three high strangers and a practically incapacitated roommate that was your responsibility. 

“Do any of you know what she took?�� It was the only thing you could think to ask, turning around to face the crowd as you said it. If you hadn’t gotten your words out before you spun, you would have choked on them. Of course, among the three people that could have been sitting there, was your ex. Locking eyes with him now was equivalent to letting someone rip the air from your lungs.

You’d met Nam Gyu at the beginning of your freshman year, him being a grade above you. He’d made you feel things you’d never envisioned for yourself. Writing them off trivially as immature and placing yourself above them. For two years you grew intertwined with him, and when he got deep into his problems, you did everything you could to help him. Eventually, it was too much, and you left. The residual devastation had stayed draped over you for the past four months you’ve been apart. You were growing convinced you’d feel gutted forever. He hadn’t taken kindly to the split, pestering and persisting every moment he could spare. He seemed convinced he’d get you back, never failing to remind you of the experiences the two of you had. Just his presence dragged you back to the depths of it, and your knees nearly buckled beneath you. You’d missed his eyes, missed being close enough to see all of him. You did a good job of avoiding him, so he resorted to calling, or texting. You never blocked him, you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

You couldn’t read his face, you could only witness the flick of his eyes over you, feeling too exposed even in your covered state. “Probably something from the bag.” The man sitting to his right spoke, sporting purple hair and painted nails. You’d seen him on campus too. “She’ll be alright.” He didn’t seem fully sober either, something in the nonchalance and slight slur of his words keyed you in. At least he was comprehensible. You didn’t even look at him, caught in the pinpoint gaze that stayed locked on you. 

You took a shallow breath, stomach stumbling slightly at the thickness of the oxygen combined with the abundance of smoke. That was what you told yourself, anyway. “I’m supposed to be taking her home.” Your eyes flicked to the left. A smaller man took up that end of the couch they were sharing, glossy eyes and shy demeanor. He was caved in on himself, he barely seemed to notice you. 

The man of the hour chuckles slightly. “Good luck.” He motions to the girl with his head as he speaks. “She doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.” 

You took a glance behind you, your roommate fully asleep on the loveseat. You were fucked. 

The purple haired man looked at you. “You can stay here for a minute if you want. She’ll sober up in a bit. Shit’s fast acting.” You were thankful he didn’t seem creepy. He also appeared in his own world, more concerned about his high than the random girls that were there for the ride. “She could always just crash here too, we’re all planning to.” 

You looked at your roommate for a second time, considering the options. You could feel the familiar eyes casting a shadow on you. Regardless of the assumed kindness of the men, you still didn’t know them. You had no idea how well your roommate knew them either. You hated to think about leaving her here and something happening. Technically it would be on your hands, and you didn’t want her to get hurt. “Yeah, alright. I’ll wait her out.” You sunk down in front of your roommate, sitting on the floor wasn’t ideal, but you almost felt like you were protecting her, blocking any harm by keeping her behind you. You heard one of them mumble something about drinks in the kitchen, but you were planning to stay rooted to your spot. Since Nam gyu refused to say a word or steer his eyes away from you, you took out your phone to kill time while you waited. 

When your attention was away from him, he spoke with his friends. You hated how deep his voice cut. It was so indescribably comforting to hear it again. You’d been declining his calls for this very reason, you knew the more of him you had, the harder it would be to stay away. After an hour, your phone was getting low, and your roommate was still passed out. The shy one had ducked away to a different room, presumably going to sleep, just leaving your energized ex and his friend who seemed to be getting drowsier as the minutes passed. You didn’t want to consume anything that might have been in that place, but inhaling nothing but smoke for the past hour had sucked the moisture from your throat. You reluctantly stood, drawing the eyes of only one of the men, and taking begrudging steps into the kitchen. 

Opening the fridge, you grabbed a random carton of tea after your search for water failed. You grabbed a disposable cup from the container on the table, you were grateful - you hadn’t wanted to look for glasses. Leaving your now full cup, you turned to put the carton back in the fridge. He was standing far too close to you when you turned back, resembling a jump scare from some cheesy horror film. You took a shaky breath, grabbing your cup and walking back to your spot. You didn’t want to talk. He followed suit a minute later, a soda can grasped in his palm. He continued his conversation with the man beside him like nothing had happened, and you envied that ability. Your heart was beating like it was going to stop. You drank your tea faster than you even wanted to, just doing something to fight the urge of looking at him. You could have sworn your resolve would be stronger than this. 

His eyes seemed to float to you more than they had been. You felt monitored, stalked, even. It was such a piercing sensation that a mild cold sweat started on your skin. There was something so personal about the way he looked at you. A devoted gaze of a predator, someone intense. It was something that drew you to him in the first place, something that wrestled within you. Fear and want in one. God, you wanted to go home. You spent maybe another twenty minutes on your phone, feeling the world get hazy around you. You hoped the invading mental fog was just a consequence of the late hour, of the smoke around you. You needed to move, so you stood up to throw your cup away. Your legs felt like steel rods, heavy and immovable. You don’t know how you dragged yourself back into the kitchen. Your skin felt like it was buzzing, too sensitive to the air around you.

You heard the couch creak behind you, the sound of confident footsteps as you stumbled and nearly fell to the side. You were an imbalanced scale, tipping to one side when attempting to stand normally. Familiar hands caught you, and the feeling of him on you after so long pushed a small sob out of your dry throat. You didn’t have the strength to suppress it. “Careful.” He spoke low, so close to you that you could feel the vibration of his chest on your back. Your lips trembled as you looked around, things looked like static, marbling patterns blurring around you. 

“What’s happening?” You hated how pathetic you sounded, teary and weakened. “Did you do something to me?” You sounded so small; quiet and choking out your words instead of saying them. His hands felt so heavy on your skin. You despised the inherent recognition that your body held for him. You weren’t stupid, he’d probably drugged you. How fucking deranged did it make you that you were still getting wet for him, even in this headspace. You squirmed a bit in his hold, but all that accomplished was making his hands rub against your skin, getting heavier as his hands tightened to keep you in his grasp. You looked back at the couch, his friend had fallen asleep, and your roommate was out like a light. You were so fucked. 

“No, no. You’re ok.” He started walking towards the door of the apartment as you stumbled to clutch on to him. The world felt like a pool of molasses. “Let’s go back home, yeah?” He was still holding you, dragging you along with him and mumbling out the words like he was talking to a baby. “Not like you wanted to be here anyway.”

It was still raining when you got outside, the feeling of your clothes sopping up the water and molding to your skin was excruciating. The air felt prickly, like a cactus, and it made your poor roofied brain so confused that your body didn’t know how to react. It was bordering on painful as you sat in the passenger seat of your own car - him grabbing the keys on the way out and getting in the driver’s seat like he owned it. He didn’t even seem high. Your body ached, tingling like a shockwave, but your thighs were clenching in direct opposition to the sensation. Wires got crossed in your brain, and you were practically dripping into your underwear as your skin buzzed like you were on fire. You couldn’t sit still, shifting little by little and choking ever so slightly on some of your inhales. The drive was only ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. 

You watched him open the door to your place. You swore you’d taken his key when you left him. Maybe it was yours, you couldn’t remember him taking it out of your pocket. Your apartment was cold, and you heard him sigh as he shut the door. He’d been here a thousand times over the years, something he was clearly remembering as he returned for the first time in four months. You heard the thoughts ring out in your head, bound back and forth with a million different things. Your hand was flat on the wall, looking at him lost like you were waiting for direction, or answers, or just something from him. 

You couldn’t seem to properly catch your breath, chest heaving slightly as he moved towards you, his hands cradling your face to force eye contact. “I’ve missed this, you know?” He looked over the space he could see. It was brief, just enough to take it in without diverting his attention away from you for too long. “You haven’t changed anything.”

He pulled your hand off the wall, turning you around and forcing you to walk in tandem with him as he headed to your bedroom. He was right against your ear, speaking so low and knowing, your brain felt like a puddle in your head, only thinking about him and what he was going to do. “Most people go through breakups and they want to change everything, get something fresh.” Your stomach lurched as he opened the door, your own room causing a new feeling to stir in your gut. It wasn’t comfort, or fear. You couldn’t tell what it was. “What does it say that you left everything the same, huh?” He put his chin on your shoulder, holding you from behind in such a disgustingly intimate way. Your underwear was sticking to you at this point, you felt sick. “Did you really think you could stay away from me?” There was none of the usual malice in his tone, he sounded amused. As if he was scolding you for such a comical belief. 

Your back hit the bed, as gentle as the first time he’d ever laid you on it. The lack of standing was a welcome relief, and you could have wept with the feelings that swept over you as you drank in the sight of him standing above you. You tried so desperately to remember why you’d left in the first place, fighting through the haze to not lose your will. “Wait- you-” You didn’t have a clue what you were even trying to express. “No- I can’t.” 

He was heavy on top of you, hands drawing lines of fire as they dragged your shirt off. That exposed feeling you’d been sitting on all night cranked up severely as he stared at you, tracing his hands over you as he remapped old trails he’d been so familiar with. Nobody had touched you in four months. You’d been reeling so hard from the loss that you’d barely touched yourself. With your already limited capacity to process what was happening, combined with your recent celibacy, you felt like you were going to die, and it just made you all the more wanting.

“No?” He mocked, slipping the pants you were wearing down your legs. “Why’s that?” 

You were breathing heavy, lungs filling with the air that seemed too thick, bearing the weight of the tension. “We’re not-” You stumbled over your words as he kissed down your chest. “We’re not together anymore.” He nipped at you, leaving dark bruises that forced quiet groans from your mouth. “And you fucking drugged me-”

“And you’re fucking soaked.” He ran his thumb over the prominent wet patch on your underwear, pushing it aside to make bare contact with you. “You’ve always been easy, honey, but this is something else.” He takes his time sliding against you, making you preen at the contact. You were so caught between right and wrong. He’d touched you a thousand times, dragged the same sounds out of you he was doing now; but he didn’t have the right to do that anymore, he shouldn’t be doing it, not like this. The argument formed and died in your mushy brain, the feeling of the craving you’ve had for months finally being satisfied pushed all reasoning out of sight. It felt so good, and he was barely doing anything. A couple slow lines up and down, and you could practically hear it. He was right, and you were in borderline tears from how much you needed this.

You watched his clothes come off, wishing you could have helped, but rejoicing in the view of his bare skin. It was fucking pathetic how much you reveled in the sight. You felt like a lapdog, some pavlovian response firing up in your brain as you stared at him. Had you truly thought you could stay away? You could have changed the locks, or cut your hair, maybe reinvented your wardrobe. You had been devastated, yes, but maybe the reason you were never heartbroken was because you knew the split wouldn’t last. A dedicated devotee rarely deserts the altar, why would you be different? Why would you want to be different when he felt so fucking good against you?

You choked on a tiny gasp as he started pushing into you, your hands reaching to grasp his shoulders as easy as any instinct is. You hear the small noise that pours out of his parted lips, tightening around him as he bottoms out. You go practically brain dead at the feeling, missing that specific fullness more than you ever thought you could miss anything. He seems to sense it. “Don’t you miss me inside you, honey?” Even if you can barely process anything other than the feeling of him, you still pick up on that sleazy tone he can never seem to shake. Mocking and arrogant, always talking down to you somehow. “It was stupid to leave.” He starts moving his hips, calculated and slow - loving in a way that’s out of character for him. “You know you’re fucking made for me.” His words were breathed out in a sigh, audible content in his voice, as if he could stay like this forever. You realized with slight horror that you wanted him to. You wanted to be here forever. 

You were being driven so thoughtfully to the edge that you could barely keep up. The hand that wasn’t holding himself up was rubbing timed circles on your clit, his face finding home in your neck. If he wasn’t leaving marks, he was saying something that was only making you tighten around him more. “I didn’t want to have to do this, you know that.” You nodded, eyes watering from the intensity. “I tried so hard.” You just nodded again as he sucked a bruise into the underside of your jaw. You were scared to look at the damage when this wore off. “If you had just talked to me, we could have worked it out.” You couldn’t pick apart his words right now. Not when you were so close and he said them in that tone that just killed any critical thinking you had in you. 

“I’m sorry.” You could barely hear the words as you said them, whispered hoarsely as you tensed up. Your lips were trembling, a tear running down the side of your face and dripping onto the sheets. 

His hips stuttered at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I know, It’s ok.” He put his mouth on your jaw, mumbling his forgiveness so you could feel the vibrations, etch them into your skin. “Don’t hold it, honey, you can cum.” The permission made you lightheaded, air rushing from your lungs. “Just let me back in, yeah? I’ll forget it even happened.” 

You were so close that it was painful, his motions speeding up. You whimpered, small and meek. Your hands were shaking, hiccupping as a couple more tears streaked down your face. The thought of having him back was so enticing, even through the mild sedation that was still coursing through you, you felt like you were whole again like this. You came hard, so hard that you thought you might black out for a moment as it fully hit you. He followed right after, cumming inside you for the first time in your entire relationship, as if to physically demonstrate his intentions, to emphasize that you were made for him. You belonged together, something that he whispered with various other praises as his hips slowed to a stop. You sat with the weight of what just happened, what was most likely going to happen when you were sober. You couldn’t imagine being away from him anymore. It was hard enough holding out for four months, but after this? It seemed impossible. You realized that it hardly mattered, even if you wanted to leave, after tonight,

you doubt he’d let you.

[gamblersdoll]

divorced husband! katsuki who’s still in love with you— always breaking a potential relationship up. and it takes one simple thing: a text.

finally pressing through the woods of dating pools, apps and events, you thought you could get a break. a fucking deserved break! no more heroes, just civilians. theyd make more time and effort for the relationship! thats all you thought about, effort and time. it takes you a couple of times to finally emerge into the dating pools, but it was working.

was working, until that fuck decided to text you.

“hows your date going, baby? you know daddy misses you.”

your heart drops, how the actual fuck did he know that you were on a date?? you wanted to grind your teeth, your date sweaty now.

“so.. you used to date— dynamight?” he asks, hoping and praying that you didnt, because he knew hed be fucked up if you did. he had so many questions, for how long? when ? did you guys have kids?—

“we were married, but i divorced him.” you say, sighing when he quickly gathers his things to dine and dash out the semi fancy restaurant. another spoiled date, you thought. or maybe the date you chose was simply a bitch, obviously you wouldnt want that.

but he was the seventh spoiled date, for some reason— conveniently, katsuki was always aware.

“why do you make me do this, baby?” he whispered in your ear, hands in your panties copping a feel of your plump ass. he sucks in a breath, almost like he was resisting the temptation to get on his knees.. again. “what with all these dates ‘nd shit..? you really wanna move on from me?”

“we’re— fuck.. divorced, you perverted asshole.” you grit, trying your best to push him away. “get off and out.”

“jeez, you’re pickin’ up on my language.” he snickers, reminiscing on his art that littered your neck. “you vowed to me, ya know? that yer’ always mine.”

a irritation grew over you. “when you married me, and you werent always away from me.” you remind, putting salt in the wound. “maybe if you were around , we’d be married and you would have every right to do this.”

now he was irritated, flipping you onto your stomach on what used to be your dining table. he chuckled, pulling your head back by your hair and wagging his finger in your face. you somewhat missed when he did this, dominating you in the bedroom. “ah ah, i still have every right.” he coos, his fingers flicking at your entrance and slipping pass. “you havent gotten away from me, not at all.”

“katsuki—“

“uh uh, quiet.” he commands, pressing your face against the table as he hikes your leg up to crouch. “has this pretty little thing missed me?”

“no, i havent missed you.” that was a lie, a terrible one..

he leaves a slap on your ass, spitting on your clit. “meant this pretty pussy, girl.” he snarks, pulling you back by your hips to have a face full of your cunt. your breath hitches, him laughing vibrating against your skin. “still so fucking sweet.. bet you havent came in months, have you little slut?”

you nod, toes curling in embarrassment, pleasure, and sensitivity.

“you remember who yer daddy is, do ya?” he asks, tongue swirling around your clit. his hands press against the under cup of your ass, squeezing and jiggling. “i am, im yer daddy.” he reminds, licking up from your clit to your back to kiss. “how bad do you want me, baby? use your words.”

you couldnt , using your eyes. “please.”

“cmon’, dont tell me only months being separated you forget yer manners.” he raises an eyebrow, suddenly his tip was smearing pre up and down your slit. “do i need to remind you basics, baby?”

you shook your head frantic, he bitting his lip to bite back the urge to bite you.

[elryuse]

ANTHEM pt.5

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOLS X MALE READER

Tags : Harem, Sedcution, Kissing, Public Sex, Multiple Female Love Interest

Words : 4, 197 Words

For The Other Parts Of My ANTHEM Series, Please Kindly Check Over Here

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Y/n’s room, casting soft stripes of light across his face. He groaned softly, stretching his arms above his head as he woke up to another day in the whirlwind that was ANTHEM. The events of the previous night with Yujin still lingered in his mind, the memory of her laughter under the shower spray fresh and vivid. But before he could dwell on it too long, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He reached for it, squinting at the screen. A text from Chaewon lit up the display:

“Oppa, good morning! Are you free today? I need your help with something…please don’t say no~ 🥺”

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. Chaewon had been acting… different lately. She’d always been cheeky and playful, but recently, she’d been leaning into him more during practice, finding excuses to touch his arm or steal glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t deny there was something magnetic about her—her sharp wit, the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him, the way she seemed to know exactly how to get under his skin. But after everything with Karina, Wonyoung, and Yujin, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for… whatever this was.

Still, he typed out a reply: “Sure, what do you need?”

Her response came almost instantly: “I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes. Wear something casual but not too casual. Oh, and bring your mask!”

Thirty minutes later, Y/n stood outside their dorm building, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, his mask already in place. A black SUV pulled up, and Chaewon leaned out the window, grinning mischievously. “Get in, oppa!”

As soon as he slid into the passenger seat, Chaewon handed him a pair of sunglasses. “Here, put these on too. We can’t have anyone recognizing us, right?”

“Where are we even going?” Y/n asked, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“It’s a surprise,” she said, her voice sing-song as she pulled away from the curb. “Relax, oppa. Don’t be so serious all the time.”

They drove in comfortable silence for a while, Chaewon occasionally humming along to the radio. Y/n couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly stylish she looked, even in her paparazzi-proof outfit of an oversized sweater, leggings, and sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, with a few strands framing her face. She caught him looking and smirked. “See something you like?”

“Just wondering why you’re being so secretive,” he deflected, though his cheeks warmed under her teasing gaze.

Finally, they arrived at their destination: a small, brightly lit arcade tucked away in a quieter part of the city. The neon lights flashed against the windows, inviting them inside. Chaewon practically bounced out of the car, grabbing his hand as soon as he stepped out. “Come on, let’s go!”

Inside, the arcade was bustling with energy—the sounds of blaring game music, the clatter of tokens dropping into machines, and the excited shouts of players filled the air. Chaewon led him straight to the photobooth in the corner, its curtains slightly tattered but still colorful. “Let’s take some pictures!” she declared, already digging out a few coins.

“Chaewon, seriously?” Y/n laughed, shaking his head. “You dragged me all the way here for this?”

“Yes, seriously,” she replied, tugging him inside the booth. The space was tight, their bodies pressed together as she closed the curtain behind them. The screen flickered to life, displaying a countdown for the first photo.

Chaewon turned to him, her expression suddenly softer, more serious than he’d ever seen it. “Oppa,” she began, her voice low and quiet, “do you really not know why I wanted to come here with you?”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “Uh… because you like arcades?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile playing on her lips. “No, dummy. Because I wanted to spend time alone with you. Just you and me.”

Before he could respond, the photobooth’s camera snapped the first picture. Chaewon quickly leaned in closer, her fingers brushing against his arm as she tilted her head toward him. The second flash went off. Y/n’s heart began to race, his breath hitching as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Chaewon…”

“Shh,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “Stop thinking so much, oppa. Just… feel.”

And then she kissed him.

It started soft, tentative—just the briefest brush of her lips against his. But when Y/n didn’t pull away, Chaewon deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed closer. The world outside the photobooth faded away, leaving only the two of them and the sound of their mingled breaths. Y/n’s hands found her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he responded with equal fervor.

The camera flashed again, capturing the moment as Chaewon broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Y/n stared at her, dazed, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. “Chaewon, I—”

The camera flashed one final time, freezing the image of her grinning triumphantly before she pulled him back into another kiss. This time, it was fiercer, hungrier, her nails digging lightly into his shoulders as she poured every ounce of her pent-up feelings into it. Y/n groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping under her sweater to trace the curve of her spine.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their faces flushed. Chaewon rested her forehead against his, her voice barely audible over the hum of the arcade outside. “So… did you like my surprise?”

Y/n chuckled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Yeah, I liked it. A lot.”

“Good,” she said, her grin widening. “Because there’s more where that came from.”

Chaewon’s lips lingered close to his, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered, “So… what do you think about us? About this?” Her eyes searched his, a mix of playfulness and vulnerability flickering in their depths.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding. The air between them felt electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable. He could still feel the ghost of her touch under his sweater, the warmth of her body pressed against his. “I think…” he started, voice low, “it’s complicated. You know that, right? With everything going on in the group…”

She tilted her head, her fingers trailing lightly down his arm until they interlaced with his. “Complicated doesn’t mean impossible,” she murmured, her tone soft but firm. “And I don’t care about complications if it means getting to have this. To have you.” There was a weight to her words, a sincerity that made Y/n’s chest tighten.

He swallowed hard, his mind racing. Karina’s confession, Wonyoung’s teasing, Yujin’s boldness—now Chaewon was laying her feelings bare. It felt like the walls were closing in, the web of emotions growing more entangled by the day. But with Chaewon staring at him like that, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed from the intensity of their kiss, it was hard to focus on anything else.

“Chaewon,” he said quietly, squeezing her hand. “You know this isn’t just about us. The group… we can’t risk—”

She interrupted him with a shake of her head, her hair brushing against his cheek. “Stop thinking so much,” she said, her voice firm but tender. “For once, just let yourself feel. We’ve been dancing around this for weeks—maybe longer. Don’t you think it’s time we stopped pretending?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was right, wasn’t she? Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every playful tease—they had all been building toward this. And now, with her standing so close, her body pressed against his, it was impossible to deny the pull between them.

“Okay,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “What do you want, Chaewon?”

A slow smile spread across her face, her eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “I want you to stop overthinking and kiss me again,” she said, her tone light but laced with desire.

Before he could respond, she leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. This kiss was different from the ones before—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Her hands slid up his chest, curling around the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. Y/n’s hands instinctively found her waist, gripping her tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers.

The world outside the photobooth faded away, leaving only the two of them and the heat building between them. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other.

“That’s what I want,” Chaewon whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I want us to explore this. To see where it could go. I don’t care about the others right now. I just… I care about you.”

Y/n’s heart clenched at her words. He wanted to say something—anything—to reassure her, to tell her he felt the same way. But before he could, she stepped back slightly, her hands sliding down to grip his.

“But I need you to be honest with me,” she continued, her gaze steady. “If this is too much, if you’re not ready… I’ll understand. But don’t keep me hanging, Y/n. Don’t make me guess.”

He squeezed her hands, his mind racing. How could he explain the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling? The guilt, the desire, the fear of what this could mean for the group—and for them?

“It’s not that simple,” he admitted, his voice rough. “You know that. With Karina, Wonyoung, Yujin… it’s not just about us. It’s about how this affects everyone.”

Chaewon nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “I know,” she said softly. “And I’m not asking you to choose. I’m just asking you to give us a chance. To see where this could go. Isn’t that worth it?”

Y/n’s chest tightened at her words. She was giving him an out, a way to step back if he needed to. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized he didn’t want to. He wanted this. He wanted her.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice firm. “It’s worth it.”

A brilliant smile spread across Chaewon’s face, her eyes lighting up with joy. “Good,” she said, her voice full of relief. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Y/n chuckled, pulling her closer. “You really are something else, you know that?”

She grinned, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “You have no idea,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Now, are you going to kiss me again, or do I have to take charge?”

His answer was to lean down and capture her lips once more, pouring every ounce of his pent-up emotions into the kiss. Chaewon responded eagerly, her hands sliding up his shoulders to tangle in his hair. The world outside the photobooth disappeared, leaving only the two of them and the fire burning between them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed. Chaewon rested her forehead against his, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “We should probably get out of here before someone catches us,” she murmured, though there was no urgency in her voice.

Y/n laughed softly, his hands still resting on her hips. “Probably. But I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who said anything about letting go?” she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Meet me in my room tonight. We can continue this… privately.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words, his grip tightening on her waist. “Are you sure?”

She pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said, her voice steady. “But only if you are.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the weight of her words settling over him. This wasn’t just about a fleeting moment of passion—this was a decision that could change everything. But as he looked into her eyes, he knew there was no turning back.

“I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm.

Chaewon’s smile widened, and she pressed one last, lingering kiss to his lips before stepping back. “Good,” she said, her voice full of promise. “Tonight, then. Don’t keep me waiting.”

The hallway was dimly lit, the faint hum of fluorescent lights casting long shadows as Chaewon led Y/n by the hand. Her fingers were warm and firm around his, pulling him closer with every step. Their footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor, but neither of them spoke—words felt unnecessary now. The tension between them had been building all day, a slow burn that had finally reached its breaking point.

When they reached her room, Chaewon turned to face him, her eyes dark with desire. She didn’t hesitate, pressing herself against him, her lips capturing his in a hungry kiss. Y/n groaned into her mouth, his hands instinctively finding her waist as he pulled her closer. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and sharp like cherry cola, and he couldn’t get enough.

Chaewon broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” before dragging him inside and shutting the door behind them. The room was bathed in soft amber light, the curtains drawn tight, creating an intimate cocoon. Without warning, she pushed him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he fell onto it, bouncing slightly.

She stood over him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she let out a low, breathy laugh. “You’re so eager,” she teased, her voice dripping with mischief. And then, with deliberate slowness, she began to undress.

First came her jacket, slipping off her shoulders like liquid silk. Then her top, revealing a lace bralette that clung to her curves in all the right places. Y/n’s breath hitched as he watched her, his body already responding to her every move. But she wasn’t done yet. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her skirt, and with a slow, teasing tug, she let it fall to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare, taking in every inch of her. Chaewon was beautiful—stunning, really—but there was something about the way she carried herself, the confidence radiating from her, that made her irresistible. She stepped closer, straddling him on the bed, her hands resting on his chest.

“Do you like what you see?” she purred, her voice low and husky.

Y/n nodded, swallowing hard. “More than you know.”

Her lips curved into a sultry smile, and she leaned down, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, “Then don’t hold back.”

That was all the invitation he needed. In one swift motion, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. The surprise in her eyes only fueled his hunger, and he kissed her deeply, his hands roaming her body as if trying to memorize every curve. She moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched against him.

Their clothes disappeared in a flurry of movement, discarded carelessly on the floor. When Y/n finally entered her, Chaewon let out a gasp, her head falling back against the pillows as her body shuddered in response. He moved slowly at first, savoring the way she felt beneath him, the way her breathing quickened with every thrust.

But Chaewon wasn’t content to let him set the pace. Her hips bucked against his, urging him to go faster, harder, and he obliged, his own control slipping as the heat between them grew unbearable. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure.

“Y/n—” she gasped, her voice breaking as her nails raked down his back. “Don’t stop... please...”

He didn’t. Instead, he shifted his angle slightly, hitting a spot that made her cry out in ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth falling open in an agegao expression that sent a jolt of primal satisfaction through him. She was completely lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of their connection.

As her body tightened around him, signaling her climax, Y/n felt his own release building. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled into her, their shared cries mingling in the air. For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, hearts racing in tandem.

When he finally pulled back, Chaewon looked up at him, her eyes glassy and unfocused, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were sure.”

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Neither were you.”

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

Before he could respond, she propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze locking with his. There was something unspoken in her eyes, a question or maybe a promise, but before either of them could explore it further, the sound of voices outside the door made them freeze.

Both pairs of eyes darted toward the door, wide with panic. The last thing they needed was someone walking in on them like this. Chaewon quickly grabbed a pillow, covering herself as Y/n scrambled to find his boxers.

But before they could fully recover, the doorknob began to turn.

“Shit,” Chaewon hissed under her breath, her heart pounding. “What do we do?”

Y/n’s mind raced, but before he could come up with a plan, the door creaked open, revealing...

Chaewon’s eyes widened in panic as the door creaked open. Without hesitation, she grabbed Y/n by the arm and yanked him under the covers with her, pulling the blanket up to their chins just as the soft glow of the hallway light spilled into the room.

“Stay quiet,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her lips brushing against his ear. Her breath was warm, sending a shiver down his spine despite the heat pooling between them.

The sound of footsteps followed, slow and deliberate, as whoever had entered lingered near the doorway. Y/n’s heart hammered against his chest, each beat echoing loudly in his ears. He could feel Chaewon’s body pressed tightly against his, her legs tangled with his own, her skin still flushed from their earlier passion. The thin fabric of the blanket did little to hide the warmth radiating between them, but neither dared to move.

“Chaewon?” came a familiar voice—Winter. She sounded tentative, like she wasn’t sure if she should be there. “Are you awake?”

Y/n froze, his eyes locking with Chaewon’s. Her expression was a mix of amusement and mischief, her lips curling into a sly smile despite the situation. She placed a finger over her own lips, silently urging him to stay still, then turned her head slightly toward the door.

“Uh… yeah,” Chaewon called back, her voice surprisingly steady. “What’s up? I was just about to sleep.”

There was a pause, and Y/n could practically hear Winter’s hesitation. His mind raced, trying to figure out how they were going to get out of this without raising suspicion. But Chaewon seemed unfazed, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest beneath the blanket, her touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” Winter admitted finally, her voice softer now. “I thought maybe we could talk or something.”

Chaewon bit her lip, her hand stilling for a moment before she sighed softly. “Sorry, Unnie. I’m really tired tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”

Another pause. Y/n could almost picture Winter standing there, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the situation. He prayed she wouldn’t come closer, wouldn’t notice the faint rise and fall of the blankets or the way Chaewon’s breathing hitched ever so slightly when her fingers brushed against his stomach.

“Alright,” Winter said finally, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Sleep well, then.”

The footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, plunging the room back into semi-darkness. For a moment, neither of them moved, listening intently for any sign that Winter might change her mind and return. When it became clear she was gone, Chaewon let out a low laugh, her body relaxing against his.

“That was close,” she murmured, her lips curving into a grin. Her hand resumed its exploration, trailing lower now, and Y/n sucked in a sharp breath. “Too close.”

“You’re insane,” Y/n replied, his voice hushed but laced with disbelief. He could feel the tension coiling in his gut again, threatening to unravel as her fingers danced dangerously close to where he wanted her most. “What if she had seen us?”

Chaewon tilted her head, her gaze locking with his. “She didn’t,” she said simply, as if that settled everything. “And besides…” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his neck, her words hot against his skin. “Wouldn’t that have been exciting?”

Y/n groaned softly, his hands instinctively finding her waist and pulling her closer. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, though he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “What if someone else comes in?”

“Then we’ll be quiet this time,” Chaewon replied, her tone teasing but her eyes filled with desire. She shifted slightly, straddling him beneath the blanket, her weight pressing deliciously against him. “Unless you want me to stop?”

He didn’t answer—he couldn’t. Instead, his hands slid up her back, pulling her down into a searing kiss. Their lips met with a hunger that sent sparks shooting through him, her tongue parting his as she deepened the kiss. Her hips rolled against his, the friction drawing a low groan from his throat.

“Quiet,” she reminded him, her breath hitching as she rocked against him again. Her movements were slow, deliberate, designed to drive him mad. And it was working. Every brush of her skin against his sent waves of pleasure crashing through him, every gasp and sigh from her lips only fueling his need.

Her hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of him she could reach. She kissed along his jaw, his neck, her teeth grazing his skin in a way that made him shudder. When her lips found his ear, she whispered, “You’re mine tonight,” and the possessiveness in her voice sent a jolt of arousal straight to his core.

Y/n’s hands gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he held her in place. “Chaewon…” he breathed, his voice strained with need. “We can’t—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, silencing him with another kiss. Her hips moved again, grinding against him in a rhythm that left no room for argument. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

And he did. Every touch, every movement, every whisper of her name against his skin blurred together into a haze of pleasure. The world outside the blanket ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other.

But just as the tension reached its peak, the sound of voices outside the door shattered the moment. Y/n tensed, his eyes darting toward the door as muffled laughter drifted in from the hallway. Chaewon froze above him, her breath coming in shallow puffs as she listened.

“Quick,” she whispered, sliding off him and pulling the blanket up higher. “Underneath me.”

Y/n didn’t argue, shifting so that she was lying on top of him, her body shielding his from view. The door handle turned again, and this time, multiple voices filtered into the room.

“Chaewon? Are you still awake?” It was Karina this time, her tone light and playful.

“We brought snacks!” added Winter, her voice cheerful now.

Chaewon propped herself up on one elbow, doing her best to look sleepy and disheveled. “Can’t you guys leave me alone for one night?” she complained, though her voice lacked any real annoyance.

Karina chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Come on, don’t be such a loner. We haven’t hung out properly in ages.”

Y/n held his breath, praying they wouldn’t notice the slight indent in the mattress where he lay hidden beneath Chaewon. Her hand found his beneath the blanket, squeezing gently in reassurance.

“Fine,” Chaewon sighed dramatically, sinking back down onto Y/n in a way that made him grit his teeth. “But if you wake me up again, I’m kicking you all out.”

The girls laughed, their voices fading as they began to chatter among themselves. Y/n could feel Chaewon’s body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter, her face buried in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he muttered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Chaewon grinned against his skin. “Maybe a little.” She shifted slightly, her knee brushing against him in a way that made him bite back a groan. “But don’t worry… I’ll make it up to you later.”

Y/n had no doubt she would. But for now, all he could do was lie there, his heart pounding as he waited for the girls to leave—and for Chaewon to make good on her promise…

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 6

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt. 5

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You’re a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and you’ve now had two three four extremely intimate encounters with grade 1 sorcerer Nanami Kento, but who's keeping count.... You're preparing for your morning date at your place when you get some unexpected company.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, nanami gets a little jealous but don't worry bc I can't stand miscommunication tropes, explicit smut towards the end (mdni)

˚₊✩‧₊word count: 8.6k SORRY LOL

˚₊✩‧₊author’s note: lemme start by saying im sorry for taking so long to post the next part but i have been going through it :D i am so grateful for all the positive feedback and messages i've gotten in my absence, i've missed my fellow nanami freaks, so this one is for all yall<3 also i posted this on A03 yesterday...i just feel like its faster posting it there bc im lazy. thank you to everyone for reading!

taglist at the end and feel free to let me know if you want off or if want to be added!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After about thirty minutes of scrubbing you came to accept that the pink frosting stain wasn’t going to come out of your shirt. You sighed and put down the wet fabric. Another shirt lost to your shenanigans with Nanami. You laughed to yourself as the realization hit you. You’d lost three shirts in the last four days…you should probably plan to go shopping soon. You grimaced, maybe you should have saved that extra money you’d sent your mother earlier in the week. 

You went around your apartment cleaning here and there, you had found it in better shape than you remembered, but compared to his apartment you felt that yours was definitely lacking in cohesive design. Your eclectic furniture was a little bit of every style, the art on your walls didn’t really follow a theme, you just framed things you liked. You tidied up more than you think you ever had and smiled as you looked around. It may not have been much, but it was home. You felt safe here. 

The building as whole was another issue. You’d frowned when you had seen the elevator was still out of order. Nanami would have to take the seven flights of stairs just like you had. You looked down at your phone, maybe you could reschedule? Meet somewhere else to have breakfast? No, he had been looking forward to seeing your apartment. It was such a silly thing but you could tell he really wanted to. You wiped down your kitchen countertops one more time before cleaning the small dishes in your sink. 

You were planning on going to bed a bit earlier than usual. You were going to prep breakfast to make some pastries for him in the morning. It had been a while since you’d baked. You looked around, satisfied at your cleaning streak. You decided to shower before continuing, maybe you’d be able to catch anything you had missed afterwards.

You stepped out of the shower and walked up to the sink. What a crazy few days you’d had. You hadn’t really had the chance to be alone and process everything. You stared at your reflection as you wiped the mirror. You’d never really thought of yourself as someone worthy of being desired. An odd thing to admit, but you had also never really had the luxury of having the sort of life where that would matter. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery was a fast paced one and every day could be your last, so you often found yourself discouraged from participating in things people your age did. Dating, partying, traveling…it's not like you could afford it either. The only reason you’d really ever gone out was because of Akari. She would invite you to go out to places where she could relive her delinquent youth. She was also the reason you had gone on any dates in the first place. That reminded you, you needed to text her and see when she was free to hangout. You had a lot to catch her up on. 

You walked out to your living room and sat on the couch, picking up your phone. It suddenly dawned on you that you had never gotten Nanami’s number. You seemed to remember Akari saying she gave him yours. You opened your messages and scrolled to confirm. 

Something made a noise in your kitchen. 

Your blood ran cold. Was it an intruder? A curse? Had something broken in? You slowly reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. You sat up and looked towards the noise, but didn’t see anything. A cup holding your washed silverware had been knocked over. Okay…maybe it had just come unbalanced. You got up holding the bat up and slowly approached the kitchen. You cautiously made your way around the counter looking down and jumped. 

It was your neighbor's cat. 

You sighed in relief and lowered your bat. “Messi, what are you doing here?” You picked up the orange cat who meowed in return. “How have you been? It’s been a while.” He meowed again. “Really?” Meow. “I’ve been good. I met someone.” Meow. “Well he was someone I already knew.” You walked out of your apartment, cat in tow, and made your way next door. Your window had a tear in the screen and Messi had made a habit of going through it and somehow prying open your window (which didn’t lock) and wandering into your place. You didn’t mind, you had actually set up a little water bowl for him in your apartment. 

You knocked on the door. “Hi, it’s Y/N. I'm returning Messi, I haven’t been home for a couple of days, so I don’t know how long he’s been in there.” 

You heard some shuffling and suddenly an older lady opened the door. You had never seen her before. She looked at you and then at the cat. “Keep the damn thing.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice from behind the lady, your neighbor. She made her way to the door and you saw she was crying. She took the cat in her arms and held him close, starting to cry again. “Thank you.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Osuke had his second trial today and was convicted,” she said through tears. Osuke was her husband.

“That stupid lawyer, I should curse his entire family,” the old lady muttered. You had a feeling she was Osuke’s mother. 

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You had known about the trial, it had been ongoing for a couple of months now. He had been arrested after being framed for a robbery. The story you had been told was that his boss had been the one to frame him. He was a bottom tier worker, and the perfect scapegoat for the crime. 

“No, thank you though,” the woman said. 

“You can take the damn cat. She’s moving out of here. After the lawyer’s fees and the loss of his income she’s moving in with me, I don’t want to take care of that thing,” the older lady said.

“I’ll take care of it, please,” the woman cried. 

The lady grumbled something else and went back inside. “Thank you for bringing him back.” She wiped her tears and offered you a hug. “We’ll be out by tomorrow, I can't afford the rent. I’m already behind on the last two months.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I hope everything works out. You have my number, call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” You smiled at her and she nodded and closed the door. 

You stood alone in the hallway. Everything was so silent. You heard the women arguing again and you sighed. You went back into your apartment, sitting on your couch again. You hoped everything would work out for them. The couple next door had been so nice. Osuke and Makiko and their cat Messi, they’d lived here longer than you had. You sighed and rubbed your temples. There really wasn’t much you could do for them.  

You reached for your phone again and went to text Akari. 

-sorry i meant to text you earlier, and then i got distracted again. messi was in my apartment and scared me to death. -when are they going to fix that damn window for you? -i don’t mind, i love that cat.  -but if he can get in so can other things, my skin is crawling just thinking about it  -someone is on the road to getting uninvited from my place.  -no way, you owe me from all the times I’ve let you crash at my place -damn…speaking of, when is your next free day? we need to hang out.  -i can do the day after tomorrow, i have a half day, does that work? -perfect, i’m also just coming in in the morning -you can tell me all about your adventures with the old man. have you said yes to being his girlfriend yet? -he hasn’t asked me yet -boooo

You started typing when you received a notification from an unknown number. 

-Did you make it home okay?- It read. You smiled.  -is this who I think it is? -Y/n it’s me, it’s Nanami Kento.  -then it is who I thought. I did make it home safe, I found my neighbor's cat in my apartment so I’m glad I came to check, they’re moving out tomorrow morning. -So you’re free now? -…yes ? -That’s good, get some rest. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow.

Hmm you thought he was going to ask something else. You looked at the clock. It was 7:53, earlier than you thought. I should probably get started, you thought to yourself. You pulled yourself off of the couch and went into your kitchen. You would make your dough tonight and let it proof overnight. 

Overnight proofing is the best way to make bread. 

You were shot back into a memory. 

The best things in life are worth waiting for you know. And what’s better than fresh bread? Nothing! Ask anyone that comes in tomorrow, I dare you.  

You smiled fondly as you rolled the dough into a little acorn shape before rounding it out and setting it in a glass bowl. 

As you finished up you checked the time. You had gotten done pretty quickly. You just needed the topping for the melon bread, which you could make as the oven heated up in the morning. You checked your pantry one last time for brown sugar and you realized you didn’t have any. You frowned. You’d run out for some in the morning. If you didn’t go to bed soon you weren't going to want to get up in the morning.

You sat for a moment and noticed the silence again. It’s not like it wasn’t ever quiet around here, but maybe after the events of the last four days something about being alone bothered you. It surely hadn’t before.

You moved into your bedroom and lay on the bed. You usually felt stuffy in here, that’s why you preferred to lay out on the couch, at least it seemed more of an open space compared to your bedroom. But now it felt nice. You felt safe. 

You stared at your ceiling. “Maybe I should call him,” you said out loud to yourself. You closed your eyes and imagined his smile. The way his perfect teeth shone, the way his nose crinkled a bit when the corners of his mouth lifted, his lips on yours. You swallowed and opened your eyes. If you let your mind wander any longer you’d be in trouble. You groaned in frustration. You missed him, how pathetic. You had always been one to make fun of how quickly people in your field tended to get together, but here you were. 

You heard your neighbor and her mother in law faintly arguing through the walls. You frowned trying to think if there was really nothing you could do. 

You had too much “compassion”, you had been told by one of the old professors at Jujutsu Tech. There’s no way to save everyone and to try is to doom yourself. You scowled as you remembered what he had said to you. The arguing died down and you hoped to yourself they worked it out. At least they had each other going through this. Things were tense now but hopefully they’d adjust. You made a note to check in on them tomorrow. You went to set your alarm when you remembered Shoko had wanted you to stop by her office early in the morning. You groaned and set your alarm for earlier than you had intended. Nanami said he’d be by around 7, it would have to be a quick breakfast as you wanted to get to the school by 8, you hoped he didn’t mind. You finally drifted to sleep. 

You groaned as your alarm woke you up, but you quickly sat up and went to wash your face. You needed to split the dough, and lay the cookie topping over it and let it proof for another 30 minutes at least. You could run out to your corner store while they sat and you preheated the oven. 

As you opened the door to exit, you almost tripped on a pile of items placed in front of your place. Cat toys, a litter box, cans of cat food, a small bed, and a note. 

Messi got out again last night and I’m afraid we just don’t have time to look for him. I think he’s better off with you anyway. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If it’s too much I've contacted a shelter that would take him. Here is the number. 

You frowned a bit. You loved Messi but you didn’t want a cat. You dragged the items into your apartment and quickly went out the door. You’d deal with this later, you were already running behind.

As you stepped back into the hall, winded and trying to catch your breath after returning and climbing the seven floors, you looked up to see a man in a suit knocking on your neighbors door. This wasn’t your man in a suit, quite the opposite. 

You approached him cautiously. He had jet black hair, his suit was dark, and he reeked of alcohol. 

“Please, just let me apologize- I did all I could. I won’t charge ya any money, just please, I’m sorry.” He stumbled as he continued to knock. You were going to have to get past him to get to your door. There was no avoiding him. 

“Excuse me,” you said, announcing yourself behind him. The man turned to look at you. His eyes were tired and sleepy, he had deep bags under his eyes and his sharp nose was red. He was definitely drunk. “If you’re looking for the residents, they’ve moved out.” 

“What?” 

“They’ve moved out, what did you need to tell them?” you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry?” 

“I need to apologize to them. Osuke was jailed. It’s not fair. The whole system is corrupt. I should-” 

“Were you their lawyer?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he turned back and started pounding on the door again. “Please let me speak to you!” 

“Tell him to stop that before I call the police!” an old man from down the hall had stuck his head out of his door to yell. 

“Sir, no one is in there. You have to go, it’s too early to be causing such a ruckus,” you said. 

“I need to apologize,” he whined. You noticed a buzzing coming from his pocket, his phone was ringing. 

“Do you need to get that?” you asked. 

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to you before turning back to the door. The caller ID said Shimizu. You grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him away from the door as you answered with your other hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Yes, hello… is this Higuruma’s cellphone? Who’s speaking?” A woman spoke on the other end. 

“Ah, he just handed me his phone. He’s very drunk and knocking at someone- I think maybe one of his clients' doors.” 

You heard her curse, “Would you be able to tell me where he is? I apologize for the disturbance, I’ll come by to get him as soon as I know where to go.” 

“Ah, yes-” he pulled himself from your grip and started going towards the door again. “Sir-” 

“There is no justice!” he cried out. 

You stared at him a bit shocked, what was he on about? You told the woman your address. 

“I can be there in around 25 minutes. Would there be any way you could keep him put? I apologize again for the inconvenience.” 

“I’ll try my best…” you looked at the man as he collapsed onto his knees, staring forward at the door. You walked over to him and handed him his phone. “Shimizu is on her way to get you,” you said. He just stared. You looked at your apartment and sighed. “Would you like to wait for her inside?” You pulled the man up to his feet and unlocked your apartment. You held the door open as he stumbled inside. You reached inside and grabbed a couple of cans of cat food to hold your door open. The last thing you wanted was for Nanami to get the wrong idea.

Once inside you rushed over to your kitchen to check on the bread. The man walked around not looking at anything in particular, but just moping. “Have a seat,” you motioned to the small table and chairs. He sat down and you turned back to your baking, unpacking the sugar you had just bought. You quickly grabbed a plate and spread the sugar, then you rolled the diamond patterned tops in the sugar. You placed the six little buns you had made back on the baking sheet. The oven still had a couple of minutes before it was ready. 

You turned back to the man and were shocked to find him staring at you. “You just let a strange drunk man into your apartment, while alone?” 

“I left the door open…” you muttered. “Besides, I think I could take you in a fight. I’ve dealt with worse.” He gave you a questioning look. “Would you like some water? Some tea? Coffee?”

“Water.” You poured him a glass and walked it over to him. He began rubbing his temples with his hand. He seemed to be sobering up quickly. You grabbed a couple of crackers from your shelf and handed them to him too. 

“Eat something, get a grip before your friend comes to get you.” 

You heard the oven ding and you walked over to put the pasties in the oven. You set a timer for twenty minutes. Looking at the clock you had about 30 until Nanami showed up, probably less since he seemed to be pretty punctual. You turned back to the man and saw he had chugged the water and was gingerly taking a bite out of the crackers. You started cleaning up the kitchen, putting the bowls in the sink and clearing off your small drying rack. 

“Who is coming to get me?” he asked.

“Ah, your friend, I think her name was Shimizu,” you answered. He muttered something under his breath. “More water?” you asked. 

He nodded. You went over with a pitcher and filled his cup, this time sitting down across from him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“So…there’s no justice in the world, huh?” You asked. He frowned. “I don’t think that’s something I’d want to hear from my lawyer,” you eyed him curiously. 

“I apologize for my outburst.” 

“No, no I understand. From what I know Osuke was innocent. It must be frustrating to lose a case, especially when what happened was so unfair.” You thought back to the old woman grumbling about the lawyer. “That old lady was very angry, I can’t imagine that’s easy on you.” 

His hand gripped the cup tightly. “People have no sense of understanding right or wrong. Everything is so black and white to them. But there are so many complications before you can see one or the other clearly.” He stared at the cup. “Most only see the bad, the ugly, that’s the easiest thing to pick out, the easiest to understand. I think most people assume that others are inherently bad, so expecting bad things to come from them is second nature.” You stayed silent as he contemplated his words. “It doesn’t help when your client looks like a bad guy, it’s an uphill battle, but I try I really do.”

He sighed, taking a drink of water before continuing. “ If I lose a case, it's easy to blame me. I'm much more tangible than blaming some higher power for not being in your favor. No one wants to believe that I do this out of a want to help others, they see me as wanting money, as taking advantage of those in dire situations. They only ever see me as greedy when I lose. Another bad guy. I want to help, but when it comes down to it, who am I to a jury, to a judge? I’m another bad person, defending a bad person who did a bad deed. They think if they were truly innocent I wouldn’t have to work as hard, I wouldn’t have to find such cunning ways to prove their innocence, but I try. Not out of trickery or malice, but because I want to believe that not everyone is bad. But again and again people only see me as a bad guy defending bad people, and I'm afraid I'm losing sight of what this all used to mean to me.”   

You looked at the cup he was holding. “I see…” you thought about everything he had just said. You thought a part of him was just feeling sorry for himself, but other points he made were valid. There was a time when you thought everyone in the world might have been bad too. “When I was sixteen…I left my home because of an incident,” you started. “I was alone and scared and I thought that it had happened to me because I was bad.” You frowned slightly as you recalled the events. “And because I thought I was bad, I justified a lot of the things I did. I snuck onto buses and trains to get to Tokyo, away from where I was because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be there, I didn’t deserve to be close to my family. And I stole…a lot…not big things, not precious things, food mostly. I was hungry and had no place to stay and I saw others do it…and so I became ‘bad’. I became what I thought I was, what I believed the world wanted me to be.” You looked up at him, he was staring at you trying to figure out where you were going with this. “But then I met someone, someone who was good, someone who only ever saw the good in people no matter what and that…changed me.” 

“Who did you meet?” he asked. 

“I went to a bakery,” you smiled fondly and looked down at your hands on the table. “I had known about it since I arrived in Tokyo, the line was always out of the door by 7 am, but I had never had the chance to go in. I mean, I never even had the money for it and the owner, she was this sweet old lady and even though I was already stealing food from other places, I felt like if I stole from her I would be too far gone. 

But as it goes, the more I stole, the more I felt entitled to, and after a month of fighting it, I finally gave in and made a plan.” You shifted in your seat, you had never told anyone this story. “I made a plan, and woke up early, to be one of the first in line. I was sixth or seventh outside the door, and when I finally got to go in I felt like crying, it smelled so good and it was so warm. She greeted everyone with such kindness and it was just her that day. I had seen a granddaughter with her before, but this morning it was just the lady. 

“I pretended to look around, considering what to buy. I let people go in and out before I finally decided on a single piece of Melon bread, delicately wrapped in plastic. It was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever seen. I grabbed the piece and tucked it under my arm and started heading towards the door. I turned to check if anyone had seen me and I saw her staring at me.” You laughed and shook your head. “She was just staring at me and her eyes went to the piece of bread I had tucked under my arm and you know what she did?” You looked up at him. “She looked back into my eyes, smiling the whole time, and said to come back soon. I ran out of there, terrified for my life. I thought she was going to call the cops, but there was something about her smile that just seemed so genuine. 

I think I got about ten steps down the road before I stopped. The guilt was too much, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve to have something so nice. I was bad, and I had done a bad thing.” You scrunched your nose. “I went back immediately. I pushed past the people in line and went right up to her and I handed her the bread back. She looked at me confused and just shook her head. ‘You can have it, it’s your first time here right? Take a seat, let me know what you think of it.’” You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I sat down and just cried while I ate it. I bawled, like people stared at me out of concern.” The lawyer stared at you. “When I finished she came up to me and asked how it was. I started apologizing profusely and she just handed me another one, and asked if I’d like to learn how to make my own,” you shook your head incredulously. 

“She offered me a job and a place to stay. I still don’t understand how she was able to see right through me.” You heard the timer go off and you shot up to get the bread out of the oven. You smiled as you saw how perfectly the six little buns had crisped up. You transferred them over to a plate and grabbed one for the lawyer. You placed it in front of him. “There are bad people out there, but there are also good people. There has to be a natural balance otherwise everything would fall apart, don’t you think?” You looked at him as he stared at the pastry before him. “I can see that you really care about your clients. Even if this was a bit inappropriate to do, drunkenly asking to speak to them and all, but the right sentiment is there.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “The world needs more people that are willing to look past everything and find the good. I hope you can keep doing that.” 

You heard laughter from the hallway and looked over the lawyer’s shoulder at the open door to see Nanami and a sharply dressed woman stepping out of the stairway. The woman suddenly looked at you and then at the lawyer. “Higuruma!” She quickened her step towards your place. Nanami followed behind her. “Pardon my intrusion,” she said as she entered. She stomped up to the man checking on him before turning to you. She bowed slightly. “I apologize for his behavior. This is completely out of character for him, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s okay, he explained some of what’s been going on. Do you work with him?” 

“Yes, my name is Shimizu, I’m a colleague of his, I’m also a lawyer.” 

“I’m Y/N, sorry we have to meet like this.” You turned your attention to Nanami who was staring at the man. “Sorry our breakfast plans got thrown around a little.” 

Shimizu turned towards Nanami and then back to you. “Ah, I see...” She smiled at you. “I’ll take over now, thank you again for your help. Here’s my business card, let me know if there’s ever anything you need.” You took her card and smiled. Fancy, you thought to yourself.

“Wait,” Higuruma said. “Have my card too,” he felt around his pockets for them but couldn’t find anything. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your wallet,” Shimuzu said, annoyed. She pulled out another card and handed it to you. “Here’s his card as well.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Thank you for listening to me…” Higuruma looked like he was trying to remember your name.

“Y/N,” you repeated. 

He smiled at you. “Wait!” he said again as Shimuzu started pushing him out. “My melon bread…” he muttered, turning back and grabbing it off the plate. Shimuzu sighed and continued to push him out. 

You watched the two bicker as they went down the hall and into the staircase. You became aware of Nanami’s eyes on you. You reached down to move the cat food out of the door frame and let the door shut. “If I ever got called to fetch you out of some stranger’s apartment after you had a drunken night out, I don’t think I’d be as calm as she was,” you said. You turned back to him after he hadn’t said anything. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea. I helped him out and we just talked.” You frowned. “I feel like saying that makes me seem more guilty, but I don’t even know why I’m defending myself here.” You turned to him and stared for a bit. “Are you mad at me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “No?” 

“Oh.” You turned back towards the door. “You were just being so quiet…I mean I heard you guys laughing…the lawyer lady, Shimizu. She was really pretty. She looked so professional..” You smiled half heartedly. “You looked good together.” You muttered. You frowned as you realized how ridiculous you sounded. “Anyway…” you turned towards the kitchen and started walking to the counter. “I made some pastries this morning. It’s not much, but we’ll also have to be quick because I forgot I promised Shoko I’d meet her early. So I only have time to change and then we probably need to head out. Sorry for rushing things.” you frowned again. “I should have told you to stop by earlier, but I got a little distracted.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“M-me?” You felt your face grow red. “No-no I’m not- why would you- why would you think that?” you laughed awkwardly. “I was just saying she’s super pretty and I’d just never heard someone laugh with you like that before I mean other than me- but I mean I guess I don’t really know you-I mean I know you but not like I know you now- and she’s-I mean she’s super pretty you have to admit-“ 

“I wasn’t a fan of the way he asked for your name at the end of your conversation,” he said looking down at his wrist and fiddling with his watch. “I know that look he gave you… I’ve given you that look.” 

You smiled and felt relief. “Seems like we’re on the same boat.” You shook your head and went over to him, looking up with a playful frown. “Was she really that funny?” 

“She was the only one laughing, I don’t think anything I said was particularly interesting.” 

You thought back at the way her eyes had turned from you to him and back to you. Oh I see, she had said. “She was into you,” you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ve done that before, laughed like an idiot at someone who’s not funny because I thought they were hot.” 

“Have you done that with me?” He asked. 

“No, you’re actually funny. It’s never forced with you.” You looked up at him again. “It’s your fault, you’re so handsome. We have to do something about your face.” 

“Well then, what do you suggest we do about yours?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was quite taken with you.” 

You made a face and shook your head. “Men will rant about their problems to you and then think they’re in love just because you listened.” 

“Did he rant about his problems? His alcoholism? His brutishness? What was he thinking coming into someone’s apartment in that state? He’s lucky he didn’t-“ 

“He was having a rough time of it actually. I do feel a bit bad.” You turned back to look at the door and then the cat items. “He was my neighbor’s lawyer. They’re a young couple, the husband was arrested on some unfair charges and he seemed devastated by the outcome.” 

“That’s not very professional.” 

You shrugged. “I think it’s been a long time coming. Hopefully my pep talk keeps him back on track for a while longer, but I have a feeling he’s going to snap one day,” you said darkly. “There was something unhinged in his eyes.” 

Nanami pulled you back and hugged you tightly again as you buried your face back into his chest. He smelled nice. 

“Speaking of my neighbors. Do you like cats?” 

“I don’t dislike them.” You nodded, backing out of his arms. “Why?” 

“They left me in charge of their cat, Messi. Well not left me in charge, it’s more like they gave him to me. They left me all his stuff, he got out of their place yesterday before they left and somehow he always ends up at my place.” 

“How does he get in?” 

“Oh I guess I should show you around my apartment. Though there isn’t much to look at.” You ran a hand through your hair as you looked around. You pointed at where he was standing, next to the table. “Dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom door, bedroom door, ta da!” You smiled cheekily as you pointed back where you started. “Bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever had a house tour, huh.” He looked around slowly, taking in the frames on the wall, the knick knacks on your shelves and the books piled all over the place, stacked not so neatly. “It’s- it’s really not much but it’s home,” you said feeling a little insecure again. Maybe you should have cleaned more. 

“It’s lovely,” he said. “It feels very much like you.” 

“Thanks…” you said. Your eyes went to the clock in your kitchen and you perked up. “Oh wow, is that the time…” 

“May I see your bedroom?” He asked. You felt your face go red again. 

“Oh, sure,” you started walking towards it. “I need to change anyway, hope you don’t mind.” 

“Never.” You felt the blush grow and your stomach get tingly. 

You opened the door and gestured briefly. “This is it, again it's not much... I think the bed is too big for this space, but it’s comfortable.” you went around to your closet pulling out a pair of black slacks and a white button down. You laughed to yourself. “That pink frosting was not coming off of my shirt. That’s two shirts you owe me, Kento.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he said as he looked around the room. “What about this weekend? Are you free? I could take you shopping.” 

You laughed again, “You’re like the main lead in a drama series. You’re too much, you know that?” 

“Sorry?” He offered. 

You smiled at him.“Thank you, but I’ll take a rain check on the shopping. I can get my own stuff. I’m hanging out with Akari on my half day, but Sunday I’ll be free,” you said as you buttoned your pants. “That is if you want to meet up on Sunday… if you’ve available.” 

You turned to him and saw him blush this time. “Sunday…works.” You smiled victoriously as you walked over to him in just your bra. He stared at your face and you nodded briefly as if to give him permission to look. His eyes trailed down. “It’s a shame we have to hurry to campus. Are you sure Shoko can’t wait.” 

“She’s doing me a favor by offering to teach me, I can’t do that to her,” you said. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you forward. You looked up expectantly and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled. 

You finished getting dressed and you felt his eyes never leave you as you moved around. He walked behind you out of the room and into the kitchen where you proudly showed him the bread you had made. 

“This is a very secret recipe, I doubt you’ll ever have one as good as this.” He looked down at the bread and smiled fondly. He picked up one of the little buns and slowly bit into it. You watched his face carefully for a reaction. You saw his eyes water slightly as he savored the treat. 

He smiled and nodded. “Good.” 

You were a bit confused. “Yeah…you okay?” He seemed to be lost in thought. “Kento?” 

He smiled again and blinked a few times. “Yes, sorry, it brought up some memories. This is very good, Y/N.” 

You smiled, deciding to not push it. “I worked at a bakery for a short time.” You looked at the buns. “They're good but you should have tried the ones where I learned… I guess people are masters for a reason.” He nodded and continued to eat. 

“Did you want coffee or-” Suddenly your phone rang. You pulled it out of your pocket and read the name, Shoko. 

“Hello?” you answered. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’ve been called out to do something so I won't be at the school this morning. Is there any way you could come in during your lunch?” 

“I think that should work,” you said. Nanami looked at you curiously. 

“Great, see you then.” 

“Ooo~ is that Y/N?’ you heard Gojo’s voice in the background before she hung up. 

You looked at your phone and then back up at Nanami. “So it looks like we have time after all, Shoko just rescheduled.” You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Sorry for rushing you before. Did you want some coffee or anything? I need a little pick me up.” 

He shook his head, “Sit down, you’ve had a long morning. Do you mind if I make us some coffee?” 

“I can make it for you, it's no problem-”

“I insist. It’s the least I can do,” he said with a smile. You smiled back and nodded. 

“Fine, let me atleast get the ingredients out for you.” 

“I’m sure I can find what I need,” he said, gesturing for you to go sit at the table.

You obliged and sat down with a happy sigh. You watched as he moved around the kitchen, looking for ingredients. The coffee, the sugar, etc. You smiled as he grumbled to himself as he searched for items and he would occasionally look over at you for some guidance. You pointed at your cup drawer and he looked over at you as he pulled out two mugs. He held one in his hand and read the text. 

He frowned. “I used to work at this company,” he said. 

“Ah, I got it as a freebie after signing up for their newsletter or something like that, I don't remember now.” You laughed, “I wonder if you were at that event. It must have been around the time you worked there. Before I had this apartment I used to rent one close to their headquarters, so I would walk by almost daily. We were so close and had no idea.” 

Nanami smiled, bringing over two cups of coffee and the tray of bread. “I don’t think you would have liked me then.” 

“What do you mean?” You took the warm cup from him. 

He sighed as he sat, “I feel as if I was a soulless shell of a man focused on money”

“Was?” you teased. 

He gave you a look, “Am I still?” You blew on your cup and smiled slyly. He smiled, “I guess I am still focused on money, but soulless?”

“Definitely not, I can tell by the way you made this coffee,” you said, taking a sip. He shook his head and looked down at his cup. He had taken the one with his old company logo. 

“Would you have liked me?” He mumbled. 

“Probably not, if I’m honest,” you said bluntly. You smiled, “I hate stiffs in suits and I don’t have much money so I doubt you’d have given me the time of day anyway.” 

“Stiffs in suits? Isn’t that what I am now?” 

“At least you’re helping people, now. That company always had a fishy vibe, there was always a tan blonde man in sunglasses who would try to pick me up with bad English phrases.” You scrunched your face. “Sound like someone you know?” 

He laughed. “Unfortunately I know who you’re referring to.”

The two of you finished up your breakfast and Nanami offered to do the dishes while you tidied up. You wiped down your counters as he rinsed the cups. You moved on to the table. 

Laying on the table were the two business cards the lawyer had handed you. You examined the sturdy ivory rectangle and the elegant gold lettering of the man’s business card. Hiromi Higuruma, it sounded like a name out of a tv show. You looked up and saw Nanami staring at the card in your hand with disdain. You smiled, laughing a bit at his expression. 

“Here,” you reached out and handed him the card. “Hold on to this for me, you never know when I might need a lawyer.” 

He begrudgingly took the card and scanned the writing, the scowl still on his face. “I’ll keep you out of trouble.” He tucked the card into his pocket. 

“Did he really bother you that much?” 

“Please, enough about him,” he said with a sigh.

“I kind of like that you’re jealous,” you teased. “Anyway, what are you so worried about?” You reached out and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You felt his cheek grow warm as a blush came over his face.

Nanami looked down at his watch, he seemed to be calculating something in his head. “We have about thirty minutes until we have to leave right?”

“Yeah, why?” 

He suddenly moved closer to you, putting his hand on either side of the table around your waist. “Should we make use of our morning?”He gave you a cocky smirk as he gently moved one of his hands under your chin, tilting your face upwards.

You felt your face burning now. “What can we even do in only half an hour” 

He tilted his head as he thought. “Well we really only have twenty minutes,  I would allow us another ten to compose ourselves.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” you asked, laughing. 

He shrugged as he brought his face closer to yours. “We can make it work.” He closed the distance between you, delicately placing his lips on yours. He was so warm, so soft. You pulled him closer, placing your hand on the back of his head and lacing your fingers within his silky blonde locks. His lips moved softly against yours, his hand gently placed on your back as he settled himself between your legs. You pulled back for a second and looked up at him. His lips were glistening with your mixed saliva and face was flush. You smiled. 

“Seeing as I haven’t really had the time to do laundry, and the fact that I’m down a couple of shirts, and that we have a record of being…messy. I propose we move this to my bedroom.” 

He smiled and nodded. He placed another soft kiss on your lips before backing up to let you move forward away from the table. 

“I’ll try to not let it become a habit.” 

“What?”

“Ruining your shirts.” 

“To be fair you only ruined two, the other one was that monster.” You shrugged, “Some things are just inevitable.” You turned towards him once you were in your room and started unbuttoning your shirt. “Should we set a timer?” you joked. 

Nanami set his blazer aside and loosened his tie. “We can be quick about it. We made do in that bathroom.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, “Oh my god,” you buried your face in your hands and sat on the bed. You heard him chuckle and you looked up. He placed a hand down onto your cheek and you smiled at him. He slowly lowered his face down towards you and kissed your forehead. He pushed you onto your back as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. You shifted your weight as you reached down to pull your pants down. You slipped them off of your legs and suddenly felt him grab your right ankle. He smiled coyly as he placed it up onto his shoulders, you felt your face go red as you looked at him. He held your leg firmly as he lazily unbuttoned his pants and shuffled them down to expose himself. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he moved forward and ran his cock over your underwear. He moved forward, placing his knees on the bed as he brought your legs up onto his thighs. He picked up your left leg and pressed it against his side as he moved forward to kiss you. You groaned as you felt your right thigh stretch against his chest. You moved one of your hands onto his shoulder and the other laced into his hair bringing him closer. Your tongues danced as you desperately kissed him. He continued to buck his hips, running his cock over your now soaked panties. He grunted at the friction and quickly moved back suddenly. You whimpered again as your leg moved back up with him. He let go of your left leg and moved it over opening your legs wide before him. He looked up at you, his pupils wide and his mouth wet with your spit. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed down your body. “Y/N…I don’t know how to explain what you do to me…” He licked his lips as he thrust his hips forward against your clothed cunt. “I apologize in advance if I’m being too rough.” He looked back up at you. “Please let me know if I’m too rough..” He moved a hand down and pushed aside the wet fabric easily. 

He pressed his tip lightly against your opening. You moved a hand forward and pressed it against his abdomen stopping him momentarily. “Kento…” 

His head snapped up to meet your eyes. “Yes?”

There was a desperation in his gaze that made you feel a warmth in your chest. “It’s okay.” You moved your hand back and lifted your arms over your head. “Be rough with me, please…” you moaned and arched your back as you felt him dip a little deeper inside you. 

Nanami quickly grabbed your other leg and pressed it back against you as he moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. You let out a yelp, which was muffled by him devouring your lips. He pushed his hips roughly against you, desperately, quickly, as he held your legs further back. You were folded over yourself and you felt the head of his cock bully the deepest parts of you. You gasped everytime he pushed into you, becoming a mumbling mess under his touch. He slipped an arm behind you and brought you closer to him and you gasped at the change in position. He had you trapped in a mating press and all you could do was mutter incoherently. “Kento!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure. He moved his mouth from your lips and trailed sloppy kisses down to your jaw and into your neck. You felt him bite your skin gently before latching onto the side of your neck. He was going to leave a mark, you were sure. You moved your arms forward and hugged his large torso towering over you. He wasn’t slowing down and you were reaching your limit. You dug your nails into his back and you heard him hiss as he released your neck. He smiled snarkily before moving to the other side of your neck and biting down on it. You dragged your nails along his back again and he bit down harder. You cried out as he desperately moved his hips with more force, his knees slipping and forcing him deeper as he temporarily let his weight drop on you for an instant. You moaned loudly and clenched your entire body as you came. He grunted into your ear as he thrust his hips one more time before releasing with a roar. 

You were both breathing heavily as he stayed inside of you for a while longer, twitching against your contracting walls. He kissed your face gently as he tried to catch his breath and you smiled, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. After some time he finally moved back, releasing your legs which had been trapped between the two of you. He took a moment to massage your thighs in his hands. You hummed in appreciation. 

You felt him move back and pull out of you. You winced as you felt warm liquid ooze out of you. You pointed to your bedside table and he quickly fetched a handkerchief to clean you up. 

“I might have gotten carried away again.” 

You laughed and sat up sorely. “It's only 8 am.” You mumbled. He smiled at you and you saw his eyes trail to your neck. You put a hand over the spots he had leeched on to. He smiled satisfied as he made his way off the bed. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower…would you like to join me?” You nodded and scooted off of the bed. You looked at him as he turned his back towards you and winced. He turned to look. “What? Is something wrong?” 

“Your back,” you said with a frown. “I didn’t realize how hard I was scratching.” 

He peeked over his shoulder at the sharp red lines. “Nothing you can’t fix,” he said. He went over to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

After your quick shower together you went back into your bedroom to get dressed. You looked in the mirror at your body. He had left a mark at the base of your neck, just low enough to be covered by the collar of your shirt. You looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw he was staring with a smile on his face. “I might have been caught up in the moment, but I made sure I was careful.” 

You smiled back and looked at the mark again. You looked back up at him. “This…this doesn’t have anything to do with you being jealous does it?” 

He blinked and you saw his eyebrows furrow slightly. “No,” he huffed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve.. “Why would you- No, I’m not-”

You laughed. “Sorry, I had to tease. I love when you get flustered.”

He sighed and came up behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Do you have the lady lawyer’s card? What was her name? Shimizu? I think I should hold on to her card as well.” 

You frowned and leaned your head into his. “I knew it. You’re leaving me for her.” 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you bringing you closer to him. He buried his face into your neck and took a deep breath. He pressed a kiss into your shoulder before moving up to kiss your cheek. “We should get going.” 

You turned to look at him. “Okay.” He took your hands and lifted them to his lips to give them a gentle kiss. 

“Make sure Shoko doesn’t go too far, she has a habit of getting carried away…”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊thank you for reading my way too overly complicated fic, i have so much planned and its all really self indulgent but I'm glad I can share it with other nanami lovers. i'll try to be better about posting the next part without a three month ghosting period, but in my defense the end of 2024 was out to get me....anyway much love to you all and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't -Nana

˚₊✩‧₊ taglist: @wrldtups @rjreins @phattyboo90 @tnyblacklesbo @silkija @justwantedachange @inthedarkshadows000 @nniiyyaa @starkmila09 @sikuthealien @wifenanami @bloombb @kentos-glasses @inciteterr0r @naturalismi @kimkimoruo @thatvintagefanboy @lavenderdaydream97

[warlocksoup]

── .✦ FULL: IWAIZUMI HAJIME ── .✦

CHAPTER FIVE: changes

Iwaizumi constantly feels like the rug is about to be pulled out from underneath him. 

She’s sitting cross-legged under the sun that pours in from her window, and she looks beautiful. Iwaizumi can’t stop looking at her, and thinking about whether or not she’s going to leave him. It taints the way a light summer breeze flows in through her window, how the cicadas chirp, and the way her skin looks under the sunlight, but he can’t help himself. She’s been gone before, he figures, she could be gone again. 

Half-full boxes are littered about her room, filled with old childhood books and mismatched socks and bottles of cheap perfume. Iwaizumi wraps one of them closed with packing tape. 

Her and Akaashi had talked, a lengthy conversation that Iwaizumi was not a part of, and decided it would be better if she moved out, lived with Yukie for a bit, got away from him. They don’t know if they’re going to stay friends. Iwaizumi can’t decide how he feels about this, if her eagerness to step away from him is a good sign, or if her inability to be near Akaashi is something that should make him worried. 

He decides not to think about it too much. 

“Thanks for helping me move,” she says to him, breaking the soft silence that settled between them. She stacks a few hardcover books into a box, and Iwaizumi knows he’ll end up carrying it. “I really appreciate it.” 

“”S no problem,” Iwaizumi replies, his eyes watching her hands. “Oikawa’s been wanting to go furniture shopping, so it’s a good excuse to say no. And, y’know, I just wanna help you.” 

She smiles, eyes briefly flashing up to him. “Yeah, I know you do.” 

He was needy, for a while. It was probably too much for her to put up with, but she put up with it. The texts he sent late at night, asking if she was sure about him. The cloying way he would grab at her, holding her close to his side like someone was coming to take her away from him. Constantly asking her to repeat herself, to tell him she loves him, and really, truly means it. 

But she put up with it. She watched the way insecurity would wash over him, tensing him, making him recoil, and she would take his hand, rubbing circles into his palm until he eased. She returned every text, fell into every embrace, told him repeatedly and eagerly that yes, she does love him, and yes, she means it. 

And even still, he doubts her.

She stands, and she interlocks her fingers above her head and leans back to stretch. Iwaizumi watches as the bottom of her shirt lifts to reveal her midriff. “I’m gonna go bring some of these out to the car. I need to stretch my legs.” 

“Save the heavy boxes for me,” Iwaizumi remarks, and she bends down to pick up one, filled with posters and picture frames. 

She smiles. “You know I will,” she tells him, and takes carefully placed steps out of her bedroom, heading for his car that’s parked on the street. 

And then Iwaizumi’s there, alone, sitting on the floor of her bedroom. He looks around. It’s bare now, free of photos of her and her friends, free of posters of bands she likes and shows she’s been too, free of her. It was like this the first time Iwaizumi was there, too. 

She had just moved in, when Iwaizumi first met her, and hadn’t left her mark on the walls yet. When he had kissed her then, for the first time, he thought he had never tasted anything like her. Maybe it was then, that first night, when Iwaizumi knew she was it for him. 

Iwaizumi stands. The wooden floorboards creak when he moves. Iwaizumi loves her, he’s always loved her, and he starts to wonder, surrounded by her packed up belongings, when it will be enough for him. 

It wasn’t enough to spend almost every weekend taking up space in her bed, leaving trails of kisses down her neck. It wasn’t enough to be the one that she called when she needed someone. It wasn’t enough to have her stay with him. And it’s not enough now, even with her constant proclamations of love, to ease the ache in his chest, to quell his desire for more.

He looks down at the boxes beneath him. Things are changing for her, now. And now that his thoughts are in a downwards spiral, he asks himself if they’re going to change with him, too. If it won’t be enough for her, if things will have to change, if she’ll disappear again. There’s this knot of dread that settles in the bottom of his stomach, and he thinks about it again. Her leaving him, what it would look like, how it would break him.

“Haji.” 

He turns. He sees her standing in the doorway for just a second before she approaches him, taking long strides until her arms are around his waist and her head is resting on his shoulder. His arms go around her automatically, hand splaying across the center of her back. 

She’s warm in his arms, and it makes his heartbeat slow down, feel at ease. “I love you,” she says into his chest, unprompted, just because she wanted to. 

His thumb draws circles on top of her back, and Iwaizumi figures that it’s enough. Whatever they have, it’s enough for now. 

an: special thank you to @nekozaki this is 100% dedicated to u ellie because when i say you inspired me and motivated me to actually finish this fic i mean it and i already rambled to you about it i just feel the need to say thank you again and ily <3

also i’m lowkey pretty sad to be finishing full but like i said it’s time for yn and iwa to rest and i had so much fun writing this series :,) thank you all for reading

taglist: @spicana @akaashislovee @angee444 @wyrcan @mysteriousballer1na @socoolsocoolsocool @localgaytrainwreck @kameyyy @Kr1nqu @katctm @shoujoromancelover @Geektastic84 @brilliantshoyo @nattyluvs @r4veeen @ghostreader0307 @renardiererin @bakingcuriosity @chaloume @angelichwv @amanimoon @gigiiiiilife @s777athv @acowboykisser @charlotterosea13 @mdmraz @asrichin @justtoblivious2u @exologys @kodzu-ken @scarveen @gigiiiiislife @ashyiiy @bae-ashlynn @fandomsfanficsfantasize @rowensboat @mybelovedvi @lunaarorbiter

[elvensorceress]

monday snippet

had a few tags for things from some lovely people 😘 and I now have 12K+ and counting of a sequel to snickerdoodles... so have some of Eddie arriving in Texas @tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @kitty-covey @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie 💕

He walks to the house, up the porch steps, and knocks on the door. After a good two minutes with no answer, he rings the bell. It’s another minute or so before the door opens to his mother in her gray apron. 

“Oh. Eddie. You made it,” she says flatly and he can’t tell if she’s annoyed at the interruption or just displeased to see him. Or if she was hoping to hear about a plane crash somewhere over Arizona with no survivors. “I thought you were coming next week.” 

“I—” No. He texted her. He called and talked to her. Briefly, but he wasn’t the one who hung up and rushed off to do something. He’s pretty sure he did. He did. He knows he did. His brain isn’t that much of a sieve. “No, today. It was always today.” He opens his arms but doesn’t step forward. Just in case she doesn’t want to hug him. “It’s good to see you?” It sounds like a question but he really can’t help that. 

She hums dismissively, looks at his offer, but doesn’t accept. Which doesn’t mean anything. His mother was never all that affectionate. But some people aren’t. Some people don’t care for it. Doesn’t mean anything. “Yes,” she says in a way that sounds like anything but. “This isn’t a good time.”

Eddie drops his arms. What the hell does that mean? 

“I’m in the middle of making dinner. And Christopher is doing his homework.” 

“Okay?” Eddie doesn’t know how that means it isn’t a good time. Not a good time for what? Him being here? He’s not company. He grew up here. He’s tidied and cleaned everything in the house at least ten thousand times. She doesn’t have to make small talk and host him. “I can help. Whatever you’re doing.”

She waves that off and smiles like it’s funny. “That’s all right. It’ll be faster if I do it myself and the kitchen is no place for you.” 

Because it’s her kitchen? Or because she thinks he can’t cook? Or because she looks at him like he’s still a child? Or he's a man who shouldn’t be doing ~women’s~ chores? It could be any one of those. Or every one of them. “Can I just see Chris then? I won’t be in the way. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“Eddie,” she says and her voice gets sterner. Colder. “It’s not a good time right now. Why don’t you come back— hmm, we have activities tomorrow and your father is taking him out after school. How about on Wednesday? Or Friday? That would be better. You could come over then.”

He could— come over then? Then? He could wait days and then see Chris? They’re busy today and tomorrow and he’s supposed to wait around and do nothing? “You don’t have to feed me or host me. I just want to see my son.”

“Christopher is doing his homework right now. You’ll only distract him.”

Distract him? Eddie, Chris’ father, is a distraction? “I can help him with his homework.”

That earns him a disapproving scowl. “It won’t help him learn if you are doing the work for him.”

“I know that,” he almost snaps. It’s far too close to it. Which will not help. She’ll scold him if he’s angry. He would’ve been sent to his room and ignored, and it was awful when she wouldn’t talk to him and was disappointed in him. He tries to take a breath. Shove it down. Put it away. “You think I don’t know that he needs to learn for himself? Mom, I’m not—”

She puts her hands up but doesn’t touch him. She wants to quiet him. Because he’s the one who is overemotional and unreasonable. “It’s best if you don’t distract him while he’s working. You’ll only upset him if he sees you now. Now is not the time. He needs to finish his school work first.”

Okay. Sure. Maybe. 

Would Chris really be upset to see him? No, they haven’t exactly worked through or resolved anything. They need to. Obviously. Hence Eddie in the middle of this whole situation. But they’ve had conversations. Would Eddie really be detrimental to Chris functioning? 

Why wouldn’t he be. Hasn’t he always been that to everyone? 

“I— I flew all the way here,” he says. It’s quiet, tempered, but desperation and anguish are difficult monsters to conceal. “I’m moving here.”

“Then you’ll have plenty of opportunities to see him when it’s a better time.” 

A better time? “What do you mean a better time? I won’t bother you. I’m not going to distract him. I can’t have two minutes with him?” It’s angry. It sounds too angry. Too cracked. Unstable.

She steps forward onto the porch and closes the door behind her, clearly blocking him from the house and anything inside. “Is that what’s best for your son? Or what’s best for you? Are you thinking about his needs at all or only what you want?”

There’s no air in Eddie’s lungs. There might not be blood in his body for all he knows. He swallows hard and it’s rocks and dryness and everything hurts. He won’t see Chris. He can’t see Chris. She’s not going to let him. What can he do? Is there anything he can do? Besides make it worse? 

“Okay,” he says quietly and feels like he’s maybe ten years old and two feet tall. “I’ll come back on Wednesday.”

“Good. Thank you for finally choosing Christopher instead of yourself.” She turns and shuts the front door behind her, and leaves Eddie on the porch all alone without another word. 

No invite for a visit. No invite to dinner. No “good to see you, how are you.” He can’t help, he’s not allowed.

No Chris. 

What in the actual hell just happened? 

[boyfridged]

tumblr might’ve eaten my ask in the process of submitting it so i want to send it again just in case but i loved burning money! it was so so so good! something that was interesting to me was mai (and the others’) disgruntlement with the foundation—which makes sense, big corporation encroaching on small community—but it’s the first time i’ve really seen a stance like that in fics? so i was curious about your thoughts on it! mostly because the foundation is usually depicted as doing good and nothing else, which isn’t true, of course, there is more depth to it, and i really liked and thought your depiction was interesting (even if it was intended to be a one-off thing) so i wanted to ask you about it :) if you don’t mind!

it seems it did eat it, so i'm glad you sent it again!

i absolutely do not mind, and i am happy to elaborate on that -- not only in the context of the fanfic, but also in terms what i think of the canon and fanon depiction of the work of the wayne foundation, and bruce's philanthropy.

that scene in burning money is, after all, symptomatic of my own politics. but as i always say, there was also a time when dc attempted to take in-world politics seriously -- leslie is a sign of that! so i do not see why i should not, given batman is an inherently political text, more so than most superhero comics (where the power fantasy elements are not as pronounced in their relation to class and the category of crime). and batman is just impossible to read without a consideration for these elements of discourse.

the love that contemporary comics (and i do think it's much more emphasised nowadays; the editorial seems to feel a need to continuously justify bruce, and there is not an ounce of modesty in how charity is portrayed) and fanon have for the foundation is something i find perturbing; the excitement regarding it even in the more progressive fandom spaces, the willingness to indulge this narrative of saviourism is really hard to ignore. and that is a narrative i have little patience for -- i, personally, like bruce as a multi-dimensional character, his flaws included. and that does not exclude keeping in mind that he is in a position of power.

the wayne foundation is not a grassroots organisation; and as such it is bound to have it's problems at the very core of its mission. the main issue is that it has a huge potential to become an instrument of biopower; that is to say, that people in charge get to say what sort of help the area will 'benefit' from most; and that is often a calculated choice that has little to do with the existing structures and even simply the wishes of people in question. while not directly related to the foundation, this is also something that i wanted to come across in the paragraph about the plan to make the crime alley into the entertainment district (btw, my rundown of the history of east end is by no means a canon one; i took different elements and mentions from comics and even adaptations into it, since it all remains vague otherwise). even when providing the people with a new (albeit limited; there was another bit that i ended up cutting out, about crystal being a nurse and the foundation putting a lot of money into nurse training programmes, since it is productive) range of opportunities, what it often leads to is yanking the populace around according to their latest charitable ideas, rather than providing long-time support.

here is also another thing to consider, that being -- no matter bruce's best intentions, he also cannot control everything that goes on in the foundation (which again, he should not -- but that also means that his 'stellar morals' will not save it from corruption and even just administrative troubles -- like the 'queues' that arlo mentions in burning money).

and about the scene you bring up in particular -- i want to say that this principled (!) reluctance to engage with the foundation it is not supposed to reflect the attitude of the community as a whole, but some part of it. mai, especially, has a personal connection to willis (and jason); this is very much a matter of pride and resentment regarding jason's death.

i have another wip with a scene of a somewhat similar, if not more open, conversation -- that one starring benny harlowe, who mentions that after jason's death the foundation seems to have doubled down in their efforts to 'fix' the alley (a trope somewhat popular in fanon, along with catherine todd/jason todd foundations), and he says: "The whole time I was thinking, why now? What was it, our boy’s trust fund? They murder our kid and then come back with a check?"

while I do not (obv) think the whole crime alley knew Jason (neither as jason nor robin; canon does not give us much reason to think that bruce would approve of robin-era jay venturing into the alley), nor do I subscribe to modern-era exaggeration of bruce's celebrity status, I do think most people in east end would hear about a billionaire adopting a child off the streets and the child dying not that long after; and there is surely some bitterness and distrust to come with that knowledge. is this what they are -- disposable charity cases? this is, needless to say, not true to bruce's feelings -- but what does it matter? there is little dignity to be found in this whole situation (with the system) to begin with.

this got ridiculously long... sorry about that! and thank you for reading!

[luciathcv]

sick kisses - sjy

summary: jake can't resist a kiss when you're sick || warnings: none || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 450

You currently felt like you were on your deathbed. Okay, maybe you were being dramatic but you truly did feel really sick. You lie in your actual bed, not your deathbed, covered up by your duvet as you scrolled on your phone.

You'd been sick since last night but you didn't tell your boyfriend because you thought it was one of those things where you just sleep it off and are fine in the morning but instead it got worse in the morning. You texted Jake telling him that you were sick and you saw that he read it but he didn't respond. You just sighed before going back to scrolling.

You had a fever that luckily went away after taking medicine a few hours ago but of course, you still didn't feel the best.

Suddenly, you can hear the front door open from your bedroom and the sound of your boyfriend's voice. "Where are you, princess?" He called out. You didn't even have time to answer before he was walking into the room. He had a plastic bag in his hand as he walked over to the bed.

"Jake, what are you doing here?" You asked.

"Taking care of my sick girlfriend." Jake responds as he empties out some stuff like ginger ale, medicine, and some candy. "The candy's for when you're feeling better." Jake explains and you just glance up at him. "I got you some soup, let me go put it in the fridge. I'll be right back." Jake says and before you could even respond he's leaving the room.

When he comes back, you say, "Jake, you didn't have to get me all that."

"I know." Jake sits down on the bed next to you. "But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't? Hm? A bad one." He says.

"You shouldn't even be here. You can get sick." You point out.

"I'll take my chances." Jake says before getting under the covers and pulling you against him. "Come on, give me a kiss." He says.

You give him a look, knowing that's just an easy way for the germs to spread, but he obviously doesn't care as he waits. You lean in and kiss him and he kisses you back. After a few moments you both pull away.

"You're definitely getting sick now." You point out.

"What can I say? I needed a kiss from my girl." Jake simply responds, softly smiling as he holds you close.

And, of course, a week or so after you finished being sick, Jake himself had gotten sick all because he loved you too much and he couldn't not get a kiss from his girl.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[channiesfreak]

Chan and his puppy girl

warnings : puppy play (obvi), gentle dom!chan, a lil anal play, obvi 18+, reader has a pussy and referred to w fem terms.

word count: 387, a true drabble

Chan loves himself a dumb puppy girl. Loves when you let your guard down, give in to your most primal instincts, and let him take care of you even if it’s just every once in a while. After all, it can be difficult for him to let himself truly take on a dominant persona, especially when he has you so vulnerable during moments of intimacy. He doesn’t like being or feeling angry, even if it’s just for play, but he loves nurturing and protecting. That’s why, when you text asking if the two of you can ‘play tonight?’ a gentle smile creeps onto his face and he feels right at home.

(smut under cut)

His dumb puppy girl dragging around her big stuffed animal tells him exactly what you need tonight. He calls it a chew toy just to see you blush and squirm, but he isn’t too far off. You always get so drooly and messy when you get like this. Especially when he lets you rut down in his lap like a bitch in heat, slobbering all over the fur of your chew toy. It’s easy to coax out of your mouth, especially when he is letting you mouth at his neck instead.

“Hm? Puppy is needy tonight, huh?” The soft lilt of his voice as he coos does nothing to help the fog in your head or the heat between your legs. After all, this was just meant to be an innocent cuddle session but he knows dumb puppies don’t know how to mind themselves. And he really really isn’t mean, but he doesn’t mind grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and hoisting you back when your teeth start scraping at his neck. A stern “no biting” is enough to have your tail tucking between your legs.

Speaking of, he definitely is the type to put a tail butt plug in you!! Face down, ass up, blubbering into the mattress as he works lubed fingers into your ass. He coos lovingly and uses his other hand to rub gently over your drooly pussy. “Your cunt miss me that much? Don’t worry I’ll fill you up soon?” And a kiss to your shoulder blade before finally working the plug into place. Makes you wag your tail while he has you folded over, just because he can. <3

Once again, yapping to yap. :) not proof read literally just spat this out in my notes app n thought I should share

[radiantrookie]

Breakfast Flavor Texts

Whether you're an early riser or your first meal of the day is more of a "brunch," it's important to start out energized! Some people like a hearty breakfast while others like to keep it light. We came together and settled on a few of our favorite ways to start the day!

Sonic's Eat 'N' Run Oats:

First thing in the morning I want to get up and go, but I need energy to reach those crazy-fast speeds. I whip up this bowl of oatmeal real quick so I feel good and energized before I start running! Whassat? It's very blue? So am I! And we're both great!

Knuckles's Roll with the Punches:

Knuckles: Living out in the brush of Angel Island, I need to gather up most of my food from the wild. I'm not really known for my delicate touch, so smashing up what I find into a delicious paste is just right for me. Then I use that as the filling for these rolls. A simple start to the morning is just how I like it. Omochao: Peanut butter is one of the most common allergens in the world! Try using almond butter or any other kind of nut butter instead!

Silver's Future-Proof Egg Tarts:

We compared notes, and it turns out this recipe is the same here as it is in my time! I like to make these egg tarts because they're simple, filling, and easy to share. It's easier to take on the future with a full stomach!

Vector's Perfect Note Waffles:

Some days you need to get an early start to crack the case. Some days you realize you're hungry and have been putting off a trip to the grocery store. Either way, these waffles of mine are the solution to the recurring case of "What Am I Gonna Eat?"

Charmy's Surprise Twist Sweet Treat:

Yeah! You thought you were getting breakfast, but-surprise!-it's a sweet dessert! Vector and Espio keep telling me it's a breakfast food, but I figured it out! Is it sweet? Check! Is it delicious? Check! Do I want more? Triple-check! It's gotta be a dessert! Woo!

Images by Codename Catfish

[punkrockmlchael]

Bed Chem - Chapter Three

My Main Masterlist

Bed Chem Masterlist

Modern AU; Rockstar!Gareth Emerson x Popstar!Fem Reader (Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s) ; loosely based off of the song Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Slow Burn, Popstar!Fem Reader, Rockstar!Gareth, Best Friend!Robin, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Texting, Smut: Sending Spicy Pictures, Masturbation (Fem and Male; these two are so far up each other's asses it's not even funny), Brief Descriptions of: PinV, Oral (Fem and Male Receiving), Hand Jobs

Synopsis: And now the next thing I know I'm like, manifest that you're oversized. I digress, got me scrollin' like, out of breath, got me goin' like...

Word Count: 2.5k

-

The last couple days or so have been a blur. Between sitting in the studio writing and recording, to doing a couple shows around your hometown, to spending most of your free time texting Gareth (which you weren’t complaining about); it had all been a little too much. You wanted nothing more than to take a hot bubble bath and just… relax.

Relax and forget about your problems, your priorities, everything for a good solid half hour, or maybe longer. Just yourself, some foamy bubbles and some hot, steamy water as you sink deeper and deeper into your bathtub.

You walked around your bathroom quickly in your pink lace panties, your oversized Corroded Coffin band tee and your pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Gathering everything you needed for your bath: a fresh towel, some bubble bath and your robe; you moved to hang the pink, silky robe up on the back of the bathroom door before you set your clean towel on the counter next to the sink.

You brushed through your hair gently before you moved to put your hair up in a messy bun, fingers moving through your locks as you worked your magic on the messy updo; it’s not like anyone was going to see you anyways.

You placed the bottle of bubble bath on the side of the bathtub before you turned the water on, allowing it to reach the perfect temperature for you before you plugged the bathtub. Robin had texted you telling you about her most recent date, you giggled as you read through her message, reading all of the juicy details she had given you. Turns out she had met a girl named Vickie at one of your most recent shows and really hit it off with her, and she sounded really sweet. And you were happy for her, Robin deserved all the happiness in the world.

Beep.

New Photo from Gareth Emerson.

Gareth: We have a day off today and Eddie dragged me to the gym with him and I’m not really having a good time :/ He made me lift some weights and run laps with him… But, I guess on the bright side, your album makes for some good workout music ;) thanks for keeping me fit!

You opened Gareth’s message as you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, hot water pouring out of the faucet at a rapid pace. You poured in some lilac scented bubble bath, watching the white bubbles form in the water quickly, the scent instantly bringing you comfort and relaxation.

You clicked on the picture Gareth had sent you, groaning to yourself as it popped up on your screen.

Fuck, he looked good. Better than usual, in fact; something you never thought you would think.

Gareth was a sweaty mess as he stood in front of a full length mirror at the gym. His black shirt was discarded from his body, hanging over his shoulder instead. His tongue was out of his mouth, resting on his bottom lip as if he was in mid pant, struggling to catch his breath from his workout.

His curls were stuck to his forehead as sweat trickled down his face and chest, making his body glisten in the light. His chest muscles and abs were on full display and leaving nothing to the imagination; a little trail of hair sat perfectly below his belly button, sneaking down more and more until it disappeared under his underwear. He wore some grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the black band of his boxers peeking out, the words Calvin Klein written in white across the band.

Your eyes trailed down his body in the picture, stopping at the noticeable bulge that sat perfectly against the fabric of the grey sweatpants. A pitiful whine escaped your lips as you stared at that picture, so desperately wanting to know what he was working with underneath those sweatpants and underwear. Though, the photo that he sent did help you paint a good mental picture of what might be… tucked behind that fabric.

You groaned again, closing your eyes as you thought more and more about the drummer in the picture. You knew he meant this as a harmless photo, but you couldn’t deny the desire that pooled more and more between your legs, stirring something deep inside of you that so desperately just wanted Gareth. Your thighs squeezed together tightly, a sigh escaping your lips as you set your phone down on the edge of the bathtub. You drew your attention back to the bathtub, turning the water off as it came towards the top, careful not to overflow the water.

Standing up, you grabbed your phone and walked towards the bathroom mirror, debating with yourself. You took a deep breath, lifting your shirt from the middle, your fingers wrapping around the fabric as you pulled it up higher and higher. Holding the shirt in your left hand, you brought the edge up to your lips, biting the fabric gently. Your body was on full display, your curves showing perfectly as you still kept it modest. You snapped a photo with your phone in your right hand before you typed out a message to Gareth.

You: What a shitty bandmate, making sure you stay fit while on tour… though, I wish I was able to help you stay fit in person ;) I’m sure I could give you some great motivation! This week has been so much for me, running around like crazy… it’s time for a nice, hot bubble bath.

You attached the photo and hit send, setting your phone down on the counter. You stripped from your oversized tee and panties, discarding them on the floor as you stepped out of your slippers. You walked towards the bathtub and stepped in, the stress of the week slowly melting away and you were overcome with water and bubbles. The smell of lilacs filled your nostrils more prominently as you sat back in the tub, closing your eyes.

The picture of Gareth continued to pop into your mind, the need and want becoming more than you could handle. You leaned back against the side of the tub, your right hand moving down your body under the water, moving closer and closer to your core. You stopped your right hand at your clit, rubbing small, tight circles against it slowly.

A whine left your mouth, your eyes closing as you pictured Gareth’s hand rubbing those circles. Your left hand moved to your breasts, pawing at them as you squeezed and massaged them in time with the circles on your clit.

“Fuck, Gareth,” you moaned to yourself, your right hand moving down to your folds. You ran your middle and ring fingers up and down your folds gently before you pushed both fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out slowly.

Your left hand squeezed your left breast harder, rubbing your thumb over your nipple. You continued to thrust your fingers in and out of you, arching your back slightly.

“Come on, princess,” rang through your head in Gareth’s voice as you began to thrust your fingers faster, groaning at the feeling.

You squeezed and massaged your breast faster, moaning as you thought about Gareth. Picturing his hands on your breasts, his fingers sliding in and out of you. His head between your thighs with his soft curls tickling your skin as his tongue licked up and down your folds before he began sucking at your clit. Picturing him towering over you as he thrusted deeper and deeper into you, grunts escaping his lips as he took you to another world with his cock.

Your middle and ring fingers picked up their pace, thrusting in and out of you faster before you curled them a couple of times, hitting your sweet spot. Your left hand trailed down your stomach, stopping at your clit. You rubbed tight circles on your clit as your fingers thrusted, driving you crazy.

Your back arched slightly, a whine escaping your lips as you clenched around your fingers, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your high.

“That’s it, princess,” rang through your head in Gareth’s voice as you sped up the movements quickly, bucking your hips up as you released around your fingers. You moaned his name again, falling back against the side of the bathtub as your chest rose and fell, trying to catch your breath.

The warm water around your body and the smell of lilac brought you back down to earth, a sad reminder that you were alone in your bath and not with the fluffy haired drummer you were thinking about so much.

-

Gareth had ran another few laps with Eddie before he physically could not do it anymore. He shook his head at Eddie and slowly made his way back to the bench where his belongings were. He grabbed his water bottle, drinking it down like he hadn’t had a drop of water in ages.

He sat on the bench, his back resting against the wall as he groaned, watching the guitarist continue to run around the gym. Fuck him and his agility, Gareth thought as he drank some more water.

He wiped the sweat off of his face with a towel before he grabbed his phone, noticing a new text and photo message from you. When he opened it, his eyes widen; closing the phone quickly so that no one else around him could see it. He cleared his throat and redirected his attention towards Eddie, watching him.

“Are we almost done here?” Gareth asked, “I would like to go take a shower,” he added. And look at that picture you sent him… but, that was besides the point.

“Yeah, just a few more reps,” Eddie grunted, now lifting some weights.

“Remind me never to come to the gym with you again,” Gareth groaned, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted like a little kid.

Once back in the safety of the hotel room Gareth had shared with Eddie, he groaned, dropping everything on his bed.

“Nice work out, Gare!” Eddie grinned, patting him on the back. Gareth grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, Eddie,” he replied, grabbing some new clothes. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he nodded, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Have fun!”

Gareth made his way to the tiny attached bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quick lock of the handle. He set his clothes on the counter and groaned to himself, opening his phone. He clicked on your name, reading over the text you had sent him from earlier.

He clicked on the photo you sent him, biting his lip as it appeared on his screen, “fucking hell,” he mumbled.

You were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom, body on full display; those curves of yours making him want to pull you through his phone to take you then and there. Your hair sat in a perfect messy bun on the top of your head, little strands poking out here and there. He could just barely make out the words Corroded Coffin on the oversized tee were wearing, making him groan as he thought of you in his band’s merch.

You had modeled it perfectly, and were showing a decent amount of skin. The fabric of the shirt between your teeth was making him crazy, but the way it rode up to show the perfect amount of cleavage and underboob was something that would drive any man wild. His eyes scanned down your body, stopping on your left hip bone where a small tattoo was.

He raised his eyebrow slightly, zooming in on the picture to see your tattoo, he didn’t know you had one. He saw a small little flower with some leaves and smiled to himself, making a mental note to compliment you on that later. Your pink lace panties with the words Victoria’s Secret across the band made his mind spiral with more and more fantasies about you.

He looked at the photo in full again, groaning to himself as he absentmindedly thrusted against the counter, wanting some friction for his rock hard erection. He placed his phone down on the counter and walked towards the shower, turning the water on. As he stood there waiting for it to warm up he shamelessly palmed himself through his sweatpants, a soft groan escaping his lips as he thought of you.

After a few moments of standing there palming himself, Gareth couldn’t take it any longer. He stripped from his clothes and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain back as he enclosed himself in the tight space. He let the warm water overtake his aching muscles before he got back to what he was originally doing.

His right hand moved down and wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it gently before he pumped his hand around it a few times. A soft groan left his lips as he closed his eyes, picturing you on your knees for him. He moved his hand more, swiping his thumb over the tip of his cock, picturing your pretty lips around it.

Gareth pumped himself again, moving his hand faster as he pictured you. Bending you over his drum set in your pretty little sparkly skirts. Pushing up against the wall backstage at a show. Thrusting into your mouth as you kneeled in front of him. Watching as you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it painfully slowly with that perfect grip you have. The little moans and whines that would escape your lips as he thrusted into you deeper and deeper, your nails scratching down the skin of his back or digging into the skin of his biceps.

The thoughts of you continued as he picked up the pace, moaning and groaning your name softly. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand movements getting sloppy as he came closer and closer to his high.

An image of you on your knees for him, face covered in his cum was what finally pushed him over the edge. The thought of you taking everything he gave you, licking up and down his cock as he came, hips sputtering as came down from his high.

Gareth groaned your name, feeling his hot cum spill onto his hand as he pumped himself a few more times. He sighed, resting the back of his head against the wall of the shower.

He heard a knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice traveling through the door, “Gareth? Are you almost done in there?”

He grunted softly, cleaning himself up in the water before he began to actually take his shower. “Yeah, I’ll be out soon.” He called back, scrubbing the shampoo through his hair as his mind went back to thoughts about you.

-

tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @the-unforgivenn ; @keeryhours ; @fan-maddson ; @hotgirlsshareaccounts ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @losingmygrasponreality ; @ilovecupcakesandtea ; @pupwrites ; @the-lurking-await-you ; @l1ving-d3ad-girl-69

[beevean]

I keep thinking of this interpretation of N!Hector (at the bottom). How, essentially, his growth revolved around his conception of love: how he's at his core a broken, love-starved man who had to learn how to let go out of selflessness.

They make some valid points. So I want to put together why the story still wastes a very intriguing concept and its morals are still disgusting.

Let's take N!Hector purely from this angle. His sloppy writing starts to make sense. N!Hector never warms up to Carmilla, because his last memory of Carmilla is her beating him up after she revealed that her apparent respect was a lie. Dracula is on thin ice: he was the first person who was nice to him, but he lied to N!Hector about his real plans, and most importantly, got convinced that he might have died if Dracula actually succeeded. (still doesn't stop him from wanting to resurrect him)

Lenore is "nice" to him. Lenore not only praised his voice, the strength of his character, etc., but she also has shown that she wants to be with him for no ulterior reason, and that she wants to protect him from mean Carmilla.

So N!Hector is totally fine with her. It's okay that she beat him that one time, because it was his fault (granted, an abused person might think like that...). It's okay that she made a sexual game out of taking him out with a leash: that's just how vampires are, right? It's okay that she used sex and took advantage of his feelings to put a trapping ring on him: it was with good intentions. It was for his sake. It was to protect him.

So, N!Hector falls in love with Lenore because she did everything in her power to keep him in a gilded cage, including resorting to rape by deception. Abuse is love. Selfishness is love. He, too, loves like a vampire, shown by the way he surrounded himself with pets magically compelled to be loyal to him, so the two have the same love languages.

This speaks of a profoundly ill mentality, the byproduct of a lifetime of abuse. It's a delicate topic that should be treated with the utmost respect.

exhibit a: respectful writing that truly gives trauma the gravitas it deserves.

After some more bonding over how similar Lenore and N!Hector are because no one loves them and they're just victims, they're so like each other fr fr, we get to S4E6. In a way, we can see N!Hector's actions here as a mirror to what Lenore has done to him: she used treachery to turn him into a tool and so "keeping him safe", and so he used treachery to cage her and protect her from N!Isaac destroying the entire life she built with the others. This is mercy for him. This is an act of love. Protect Lenore and stay close to her, but everyone else can die, even if it hurts her. I see the intention, I really do.

But add to this the fact that N!Hector's whole plan was for the sake of resurrecting Dracula, therefore risking another mass slaughter, for no other reason than to feel better about his mistakes, and we're starting to see a problem.

We're near the end of the show, and N!Hector hasn't grown one bit. Not morally, and not emotionally. He still has no empathy. He still loves like a vampire. He still has no self-respect. He went through unimaginable torture, and he's still the "manchild" we were supposed to laugh at in S2 - except now he's marginally cooler, I guess.

(also, is it really "love" if N!Hector genuinely thought N!Isaac would kill him and he accepted it? He didn't plan to stick around, he didn't plan to "keep" Lenore with him. So the point starts to fall apart.)

But then N!Isaac makes a speech to him about agency and the will to live, and a few episodes later, N!Hector has his "magnificent" growth. His sign of maturity is letting Lenore die. Not keeping her close, despite her being the kindest person to him (although I suppose N!Isaac will quickly replace her lol). Letting this woman, both a victim and an abuser, commit suicide on her own terms, the terms he never had, is N!Hector finally learning how to love.

All very nice and wholesome. On paper.

Lenore is forcibly made to be sympathetic in S4, to the point that it becomes blatant lying. Suddenly she has no sexual interest in N!Hector anymore, after all she did to him (and very interesting, that Lenore was only aroused when he was her prisoner - now that he has more freedom and seems to like her as a person, she doesn't care anymore). Suddenly her smug demeanour has vanished, treating him with almost real respect. Suddenly there's more focus on how alone she is, and how she and N!Hector can relate to each other and only have each other in the world. It's disingenuous, and all so that I could pity her, and believe that these two would care for each other, and be touched that N!Hector's big love gesture is allowing Lenore to find freedom from her unnatural existence, while in reality I'm just frustrated that this rapist got to find freedom from the consequences of her actions - she doesn't even feel bad for what she did, "I'm sorry for everything you went through", so much for growing to love him. It's not even framed as him being free of her, but her being free of herself, fuck that guy I guess. Hell, even her phrasing implies that the main reason she sunned herself was that she wasn't willing to live in a cage, even with Hector, basically throwing a tantrum because she didn't have power anymore. I get reading between the lines and connecting that what triggered her suicide was the realization that as a vampire she's inherently doomed to go insane with craving power, but she really painted herself in the worst light.

I can't even say that the show forgot about her previous behavior: it specifically calls out to Lenore "solving Hector's problem", but makes it a joke that is quickly brushed off. We are meant to be endeared at Lenore using sex as a tool of deception. Yeah, silly Lenore, that was awkward I guess. More seriously, Lenore neither had a solid change of heart/realization that she behaved like a monster in the name of her "good intentions", nor is she tragic enough compared to her actions - at most I can understand where part of her behavior is coming from, like her being happy to show her strength by beating N!Hector into the ground, but I don't feel sorry for her. The story had the chance to emphasize her conflict with her vampiric nature, if I was really meant to pity her hopeless existence, but it doesn't take it. So I have no reason to care about her, or think she's a good person for N!Hector. The fact that she is the kindest anyone has ever been to him doesn't mean that she is kind, just that this poor man has been spit on far too much.

And maybe N!Hector really is too broken to understand that being raped is bad. Maybe his abuser choosing to waste time around him feels like a banquet for someone as love starved as he is. But is that how he ends? Still not getting it? Still not feeling anything about the way he has been treated all this life? Is he really completely not conflicted about the two-faced way Lenore treated him?

And what about his relationship with humanity? Is writing a book about his mistakes really the best he can do? N!Isaac realized off screen that he wants to change the world for the better: what is, effectively, N!Hector's change in this aspect? Sure, maybe he won't keep resurrected pets anymore, but after jotting down how much he has fucked up in life, what does he want to do? What was his journey, made of nothing but suffering and mockery and the lesson "you are stupid for trusting", for?

If I am to read N!Hector as a victim of deep abuse, so damaging that he has lost all sorts of empathy, morals and self-worth... what is, then, the story told through him? He doesn't get better. He doesn't even get worse, in the same way Isaac did, for example - I proposed an ending where he snaps and sets the castle on fire as a bookend with his abusive childhood, which would have been tragic, but ofc it didn't happen. The climax of his journey is that he holds no resentment towards a woman who was both kind and cruel to him, and simply chose to forgive all the bad that was done to him without any struggle. He accepted the crumbs and lapped the plate.

The message: forgive the people who hurt you, if they think they are only helping you - in fact, don't even think about it. Not because it's unhealthy to let yourself be consumed by resentment. Because if they hurt you for your own good, then they are good people deep down.

Steven Universe became the internet's laughing stock for far less.

(it's not even that Lenore was his mother, or his long-time wife, someone that could be genuinely hard to distance yourself from if they abuse you. They knew each other for maybe two months.)

I cannot empathize with N!Hector, and I can't even sympathize with him, because this is not a character arc, this is a slop job. I don't think Lenore is so nice because she deigns to speak to him, and I don't think her wanting to protect N!Hector can make up for her disgusting behavior in S3. I have no reason to be happy that N!Hector is "free", because he's in the same position he started from in S2: cooped up in a castle, uninterested in getting closer with humankind, alone. And I have no reason to be sad that Lenore killed herself, because the story did a poor job of convincing me that she deserved to be happy with the man she treated like a pet before her character was disingenuously defanged.

I can assure you: Ellis did not have any intention of writing a story about how abuse warps your conception of love. He just liked kicking around a ball in the shape of a character, and then gave him a rushed "good" ending (that still feels bittersweet compared to all others) because of backlash. Trying to see a coherent arc here is like trying to squint to see an image on a magic eye poster, and the effort is not worth it. N!Hector deserved better, and abuse survivors deserve to be represented by characters written with love, not spite.

[cuddlytogas]

So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

[scionshtola]

i dont really care that much about like. other people not liking the way i write the relationship between cori and shtola. but i am starting to feel like the things i like most are things other people are not going to like aklsdfjsd

[malachite834]

It's Salmon Time (　・ω・) I've been wanting to make a Salmonid sona for so long, I'm glad to have gotten some ideas sketched down

Also shoutout to @gladiolusdragon for giving me the inspiration and motivation to finally work on it (*^ω^)

[james-spooky]

this is a test