#if people would stop being selfish and being like ''oh but what are the odds i will kill someone. govt said its fine anyway''

[xxknockoutxx]

⬤◉◉𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮 𝐱 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐘/𝐍◉◉⬤

• 𝐭𝐰!: 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘/𝐍 :𝐃, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐕𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

• 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮 X !𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐘/𝐍

•𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

•𝐀/𝐍: 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐭 𝟐 𝐢𝐝𝐤

•𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐰𝐰𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

The day was like any other, waking up, showering, and getting to work developing lyrics and beats and melodies. Despite doing all this yourself you frequently had collabs that you needed to be prepared for.

It wouldn't have been an issue if you didn't have to worry about Ryan; your selfish, emotionally unavailable, useless boyfriend. I mean all he would do is drink, hangout with his friends, and yell at you. It's not like you were gaining anything from being with that waste of space.

Today you had an important meeting with another music artist that wanted to collaborate so you grabbed your laptop and other music gear and locked your room before leaving the house.

It was refreshing walking outside and letting the nice windy breeze hit your face. The sky is turning a bluish orange. And leaves of the big orange trees drifted down around your feet as you started your walk or tried to. (Ignoring all the text from your boyfriend) you felt the odd feeling of being watched. It's been like this for a while but then again this part of town is quiet but lively so maybe it was just some random people.

Taking walks refreshes your mind from time to time but this is one of those cases where you wish you didn't have to walk. Like this case, the sun was slowly setting and as you walked through the busy and not so safe parts of Tokyo, an unshakable feeling of fear came over you for no reason. Or so it seems.

Despite the way you feel you kept walking because you couldn't miss this collaboration it could make your monthly listeners skyrocket. You stop at a gas station for some food and ignore some of the druggies outside. After bringing some snacks and drinks at the counter. And having a very uncomfortable exchange with the cashier, when you go back outside the druggies are gone?

Uh? Okay? The fuck...

While walking you notice a man with curly green hair. He looks at you waves at you with a warm smile. You wave back and continue on your way. Not trying to start conversation and waste even more time.

When you finally make it to the studio nobody is there so you wait and wait and wait but it all stays the same. Maybe I got the time wrong but when you looked at your phone it was most definitely right but I guess not. After a few disappointing minutes you start back up walking home. This time, in pure darkness besides the city lights and cars that illuminated the streets.

The same feeling of being watched made your eyes wet. Just keep walking, nobody is looking at you, girl. Well you couldn't have been even more wrong. The same friendly person who waved to you earlier was just walking around killing people who made your life a tiny inconvenience. People who did nothing wrong.

As you continued walking he continued following you. Above, on top of the buildings he watched you, everywhere that you went each path you took... Oh it was just like having a romantic walk home. But you didn't know he was there. You guys were so in love with each other clearly. Right?

When you got home you didn't even care what time it was but apparently to your drunk boyfriend who was awoken by the sound of the front door. It was clearly too late for you to be out and already you knew that he was gonna do his usual accuse you of cheating, yell at you, curse you out and then pass out on the couch.

I mean if that prick is good for one thing I guess it would be being loud or some shit like that. You didn't even want to deal with him so you walked past him but Ryan was for some reason way more pissed than usual and grabbed your arm.

"Let me go!" You shouted while trying to tug your arm free. Little did you know your stalker was watching and taking in the situation.

"I know ya wer' out there bein a lil slut!" He kept grabbing you and pushing you again a wall. He was way too drunk to be this angry at you when you haven't even talked to him once today.

"Ryan, get the hell away from me!- you guys both freeze as the sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the house from the kitchen.

"what the f-...."

Ryan walks towards the kitchen still as angry as before but a little bit more wary this time. You follow behind him and stop, practically shaking when you see the same individual who waved at you, standing before you. with a knife and a uncanny grin.

Your adrenaline started kicking in as you panicked at the sight of the stranger standing before you. He saved you but only so he could finish you himself? It was all too much to think about but. Everything went quiet until you broke the silence.

"Y-you... I saw you... At the gas station"

The green haired man smiled at your revelation and nods. Ryan, however, still found a way to make you seem like the bad guy. As usual..

"this the dude ya was sluttin' out with?" He says drunkenly while stumbling over his words and staring at you angrily. He takes a step closer to you and raises his hand at you and then it all goes blank. Besides the cold feeling coating your body. When you open your eyes, confused by the lack of impact you notice the liquid covering your body and the body of your boyfriend or rather ex-boyfriend.

You stare at the body for a bit longer than normal, just processing everything. You weren't sad or bothered by his death it was just an inconvenience that he died in your house, and got his blood on your body. Your face was stuck in an expression of shock but you felt something way different than shock. Was it relief?

"you killed him..."

Before you could steady yourself and run away to call the police you lost all of the energy and will to move. Your vision doubled and you just remembered the cold feeling of your head hitting the floor.

You woke up to the warm, soft and velvety sheets of Izuku's bed. As you slowly regained consciousness and your vision you noticed that obviously, this wasn't your fucking house. You sat up and looked around the room until you saw izuku sitting down across the room from you, just looking.

You tried to talk but nothing came out, Izuku picked up on this and walked towards you. Panic. That was all you could do at that time. When he raises his hand you flinch and prepare for the impact but just like last time there was no impact or at least not anything intense. A calloused hand gently brushed your cheek. Confused, you slowly opened your eyes to see what was happening.

"Don't worry, doll. I'd never hurt you..."

What? What did he just say to you? Did he call you doll? It was all very strange but you noticed the odd amount of sincerity in his voice.

"W-why am I here? Where am I?..."

"You're here because this is your new home."

I was writing this for a couple of days bc I had no inspo but yeah I finished it!

The 18+ themes are warnings for the entire story not this part.

⏤͟͟͞͞✰𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱

[cyxnidx]

LET ME ADORN YOU !

character: pantalone

genre: smut

warnings: body worship, that one thing where people compare you to a god..? i cant remember what its called ims orru

a/n: i adore the idea of Pantalone adoring us like omfgsjdhehhe (its been a long day so any mistakes pleass ignkre, i may or may not be borderline drunk rn)

"oh, dear." you heard your husbands voice, his tone breathy as you felt his gloved hands glide across your body. "i'd like to touch you, but.." he sighed, eyes meeting yours. "i feel even that would be a sin."

his eyes trail down your body once again. "i've done a lot in my lifetime, all without a second thought, or even no thought at all. however, when it comes to you.." he trails off. "..you; you make me want to stop for a moment. to contemplate my current decision - any next decision concerning you."

pantalone admired you deeply. not only for the fact that you were one of the few to catch his genuine attention, or to even make him stop for a moment, to stop his world from spinning, but also because your body mesmerized him.

almost to the point of obsession.

"i feel a bit odd saying this, almost like it's something dottore would say, but.." he paused for a moment. "..i feel it'd be only right of me to ask permission. to purify myself before doing such a thing - i feel it'd be necessary." he states. "i feel that even my gloves shouldn't be able to touch such a delicate surface such as your skin."

you bring your hands to his face, kissing his forehead softly. moving from his face and down to his hands, you removed his gloves and place his now bare hands ontop of you. "there's not a need for such a thing."

a smile began to etch itself onto pantalones face. a smile you recognized, yet still so vague you couldn't determine the true meaning behind it - was he manic, or was he mad?

"so divine.." he runs his cold hands along your side, kissing your forehead softly. "..such a blessing, you are." he moves down to your cheeks, jawline and collarbone whilst his hands mess with the hems of your waist band of your bottoms.

lightly, he grabs at your thighs, waist and hips. he moves to kiss what seems to be every inch of skin in the surrounding areas. "god, i love you." he'd mumble against your skin. "i adore you.. i adorn every inch of skin on your body, i have a desire to relish in your presence forever, for as long as my heart beats."

occasionally biting, he'd move to your chest and lick at your nipples for a moment before continuing his small kisses against your plush skin. "so perfect, so delicious.." he kisses your lips, eyes fluttering closed as he does so.

"a god must've sculpted you.." he tells you, moving toward your ears, whispering in a honey smooth voice. "and instead of being a bit selfish with you, unlike myself, he decided to gift me with you." he nibbles on the cartilage lightly. "..and i'm glad he did."

his fingers diligently pull your bottoms down all together while his lips dance with yours, a groan coming from his mouth when he feels even more of your warmth that was hidden under your clothes.

"goodness, darling." he almost pouts. "tell me, why haven't i began taking your clothes off quicker.."

[songsofbat]

what's the use of feeling what's the use of feeling oh what's the use of feeling blue (or, mun feels like writing corus but they're already in a roleplay..)

There's someone in their mind.

Corus-Calla-Corvus is... aware of that. There's something wrong and they can feel themselves flicker in and out of consciousness.

It's their minds eye that leads them onwards, stumbling blindly so they can grip onto hand rails and get rid of their mistakes.

Their flaws.

But every now and then they sort of...stop.

Stare at their phone. Or the wall. Not quite the wall. The emotions on it- crawling, crawling, ever crawling. A web.

They track their hand over twisting strands.

They're so tired.

There's so much to do.

Poda's going to make sure Signal doesn't... stop them, they suppose. So at least they won't have to worry about that.

"I don't understand." says the thing that sounds like a funeral dirge. "Why are you checking on people? The only one who wants you around is the white haired child. He doesn't seem to need you around."

It doesn't say Ceph doesn't care, at least. Maybe ignoring its words and burning it had given it the hint.

Their body flicks through different screens. The other people who went by Corvid. Vice. The bats. Carnival. Morgan? No, the same. The same.

"You're quite odd," it continues, and there's an upturned quality to its face, a vague widening to the eyes that almost seems like genuine interest. Maybe it is. Maybe it's not.

Emotions around it are.. faint. Hard to feel.

"You do not interact with her because she does not want you around. Yet, you watch over her. What exactly do you gain from this? You clearly have no intentions of interfering." They want to throttle it.

So they do.

It stares at them with eyes red like (her) hair.

It doesn't stop.

It won't shut up.

"You're the same as I am," it prattles on. "Wouldn't it be logical for you to either not care about her entirely, or do something about it?"

Why can't the dirge be playing for it?

"It's quite easy to change people's minds, you know!"

Disgusting.

She doesn't want me around, they say, perhaps. Their mouth isn't moving. I'm not like... (Jacyn? Not like you? Not like some obsessed stalker? ) I'll respect that.

I annoy her, they continue. She was tolerating me. I should not disturb her.

...somehow, those emotionless red eyes feel judgemental.

They don't know why they're talking to it.

...maybe because it looks like them. Corus-Calla-Corvus-Corvid, shifted off.

Red eyes. White skirt. Not quite them.

Requiem's fragment stares.

Not quite a fragment.

Something worse, perhaps. Sinking into their consciousness and refusing to leave.

Poda says it refuses to be removed- but that's okay. When they do a proper fixing this time- they'll drag it down with them.

It's okay to talk to it. It's okay to humour it.

It's just... keeping it occupied. Until Poda can get Signal to leave. Until they finally get to fix this mess of a mind.

"You're being quite illogical."

How so.

"You aren't friends."

...and?

"You wish to be friends with her."

Selfish.

"But you want, anyway."

Doesn't mean they have to act on it.

"You wish to be friends. It is causing you...quite some despair. Would it not be easier to simply cut off those feelings?"

If they cut off emotions for other people, they wouldn't be able to protect them.

"Your friendship with her was detrimental to you."

Scroll, scroll. They don't care.

"Forgetting her entirely would be wise. She doesn't care for you, after all."

No more forgetting. No more running. The truth burns, and they'll let it.

"Are you harming yourself?"

The truth is needed. It allows them to make the best possible decisions.

"Are you harming yourself?"

The truth is useful. They can shut off the emotions when they've fixed themselves.

"Are you hurt-"

Shut up.

"Are-"

Shut up.

" Shut

up.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Corus-Calla-Corvus-Corvid doesn't deserve to exist.

They're doing what they must.

They're not going to run from the truth.

Gotham doesn't need Corvid as a hero.

Gotham needs tools. Weapons. Shields.

Useful things.

( Once upon a time, there was a Gala. And you learnt how to smile just right, even if you didn't mean it. Once upon the time there were galas. You learnt how to be soft around the edges, pleasant and good. Once upon a time, there was an actor. They were capable of convincing people to not waste their time on them. )

" ?", it asks, and the question sounds unreal.

Because you never hear anybody asking that question in real life.

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Oh, Minglan.

This is what happens when you take the attitude of "It's no big deal if my husband sleeps with morally questionable other women." 🙄

I am fully on his side on this issue but I feel like hasn't done a good enough job of expressing just how disgusting he personally finds these concubines that everyone keeps trying to force on him. Minglan has been brainwashed by the patriarchy and it will take her a while to find her ground and feel secure enough to put her foot down, but what is stopping him from advocating for himself?

My guy, just say NO.

***

LMAO, he's the ruthless and stupid one?

Chang'er's death is his fault? I cannot with this evil narcissist.

***

Fuck you.

Maybe if your garbage ass had not kidnapped him, he wouldn't have gotten sick. And if he had, they would have been able to afford a doctor.

***

I hope he really rips her limb from limb.

The more I see of her and of Lin Qinshuang, the more valid I find Mo Ran for deep-frying fucking Song Qiutong.

***

Unfortunately, Minglan talked him out of torturing her to death 😕

***

LOL, let's hope that at least the piece of shit maternal uncle gets tortured.

***

Please tell me we will get to see a beheading 😭

I am so sick and tired of these people. They have been trying to murder Gu Tingye for fifty episodes now. I am so done 😭😭

***

I love it when cats make guest appearances in dramas 💙

***

Hell person.

***

In general, I am not pleased with how this story has handled Manniang and her children. It all seems sanitised and on easy mode for Minglan because the true circumstances of him having this whole family before marrying her diminishes the romance as it is and making it any more realistic would probably have snapped a lot of people out of rooting for the main couple because they could no longer idealise it.

I mean, look at this:

If this show was realistic, the odds are that Rong-jie, with a vindictive, abusive, neglectful biological mother who abandoned her like this, would have taken all that trauma out on Minglan because this is how kids tend to react in such situations. She would have given her stepmother hell because she was there and a convenient target, while the narcissistic, toxic, neglectful bio mother was not.

Also, killing Chang-er is the writers taking the easy way out because now they have eliminated Gu Tingye's eldest son and possible heir from competing with Minglan's children for the title and the wealth. It's such a cop-out. With Chang-er in the picture, the only way Minglan's children could inherit would be if Gu Tingye refused to acknowledge him as a son, which would absolutely destroy his image and tank the character in the eyes of the viewers.

This way, Minlgan's children get all the benefits without her having to fight for them at the detriment of Tingye's older children and Tingye gets to preserve his image of a doting and responsible father, putting all the negative connotations of his irresponsible first common-law marriage onto the evil Manniang. Gu Tingye and Minglan maintain their noble images and Manniang is scapegoated to enable this. It just leaves me feeling a lot of ick.

It may be unfair of me, but I respect the writing on this show a whole lot less because of these decisions. The truth is, overall, this drama is better written than 99% of other dramas so I feel extremely weird getting hung up on this and letting it get so magnified in my head, but I feel like the fact that the rest of this drama is so realistic and well-written works against them here. There are standards here that were set and I am expecting the rest of the story to proceed on that level, but these standards are no longer being met because meeting them implies compromising the untarnished image of the main characters. It is so convenient and such an obvious cop-out, that I genuinely feel swindled and somewhat salty about it.

***

So selfish and so fucking evil.

What did Rong-jie ever do to her?

She is the one who abandoned her, she's the one who took the boy out and caused his death. She will just blame anyone except herself for her shit selfish decisions.

***

WTF.

Rong-jie is going to need so much therapy, which is unfortunately not a thing in Song Dynasty China.

***

Fucking finally, some good decisions.

***

Oh, yeah, Xiaotao and Shito are definitely a thing.

***

So gorgeous 🧡

Definitely a potential reference pic.

***

She is the poster child for an untreated personality disorder.

I'm so glad I live in the XXI century where mental health care is available, not that it prevents a whole lot of people from still acting like this and blowing up entire lives.

***

Don't you worry, evildoer, your comeuppance is also coming!

[orgasming-caterpillar]

Dancing On Your Heartstrings

Chapter 10 (chapter 1-9 here)

A minor correction about the prev chapters

Raghav pov

An array of emotions flashed through Ranveer's eyes, too quick for Raghav to read. He gulped. The significance of the moment, the unspoken knowledge that this right now will determine both their fates, hung heavy in the air. Still he couldn't help but look at his Adam's apple, its motion and how it sent a subtle ripple of activity throughout his throat muscles. Rein it in, Raghav, he told himself, this is NOT the time. 

Raghav could see he was conflicted. He couldn't blame him. If he was in Ranveer's position, he would also contemplate if he was worthy of divulging his emotional baggage and secrets. 

Whatever they were, it seemed Ranveer had decided he was not worth knowing those. 

Ranveer took a step back, "it's none of your business. Please mere case se utar jaa." He took another step back, "Me ab kabhi dance nahi kar sakta, and there's nothing you can do about it."

He pivoted and started to go back, but Raghav took his hand and stopped him there. He didn't turn back, just letting him hold his hand. Raghav wanted to see his face, but it seemed his back had to do. 

"Mujhe koi idea nahi hai teri life me kya ho raha hai, nor will I pretend that I do, but it seems you're letting it win, whatever it is that has pushed you into this." Raghav saw his back go rigid, his shoulder tense, and he knew he struck a chord. So he continued, "Some dance to release their tension, others dance to relieve their souls and escape their lives. But I've seen you, Ranveer, I see you," Ranveer's hand on his tightened, his grip on him giving him strength to continue, "and I know dancing sustains you. It feeds your soul. It gives you life. You come alive onstage and it's something people cannot tear their gazes off. You are magic to behold, Ranveer Kashyap. It would be a bit selfish of you to deprive the world of that beauty that only you can create, won't it?"

By the end of it, Raghav's voice was hoarse and he was surprised he wasn't on his knees begging him to stay. It certainly felt like it, like he just bared himself open and put himself on platter for Ranveer, his to stitch or ravage further. 

After an eternity of silence, Ranveer faced him. What he saw on his face made his knees buckle in relief, made him release the breath he didn't know he was holding. Ranveer's eyes were wide, lined with silver. There was devastation written plain on his face, as if he was the victim of a Shakespearean tragedy. 

He cleared his throat, cleared twice, "That's a lot of pretty words."

Raghav pulled his lips into a resemblance of smirk, even though on the inside he was damn near weeping, "What else did you expect to come out of this pretty mouth?"

Ranveer's eyes zeroed on the said mouth, and it made Raghav's heart stop. He couldn't move a muscle, couldn't do anything but watch him look at his lips. What is happening here? He wondered faintly. What in God's name is happening here? 

His already dark eyes seemed darker, and the intense look of his eyes focused on his lips made Raghav bite them, feeling the look as if a burning finger stroked him there. 

The movement jarring him out of his thoughts, Ranveer's eyes snapped to his, an odd look of determination and something else in them. Raghav jumped when he felt Ranveer's hand squeeze his. He'd forgotten they were still holding hands. 

Ranveer pov 

Pull yourself together, Ranveer scolded himself. Dear Lord, what was he doing, shamelessly staring at Raghav's lips like that? He felt goosebumps rising on his arm. 

Raghav had gone through all that to get him back to dancing. And Ranveer repaid that by being a creep who didn't know where to put his eyes on. Sure, Raghav's lips were unlike any other he'd ever seen. They were the softest hue of pink, plush as the petals of a carnation. And then he was pulling the bottom lip between his teeth and oh lord. 

Ranveer looked at him, determined to not let his eyes lose their way this time. What was he doing? Feeling ashamed of his own actions, he asked the first thing that came to his mind, "Where's the music?"

Raghav smiled, and the sparkle of joy in his eyes was almost enough to keep Ranveer's gaze from flickering back to his lips. Almost. 

What brought him back to his senses was when the smile was replaced with a scowl. Whatever mysterious potion had been swirling in the air around them, it was gone now. He could sense the tension trickle back in. 

"What do you mean where's the music? First you'll tell me why you ever even thought of quitting dancing."

The question he had dreaded the most was back, but he knew he couldn't avoid it any longer. "Raghav, I…"

"I'm listening," he replied.

"Listen. I know maine tujhe ignore kiya, I'm sorry. Maine bohot stupid decisions bhi liye recently, I'm sorry for that too." Ranveer mentally winced. This was just turning into him apologising for what a spectacular ass he had been, and he hadn't even realised until now. "I'll tell you everything, pakka. Just… abhi nahi."

Raghav weighed the options. Even through his fifteen layers of judgement, Ranveer saw where the favour was falling. "Okay," he said, and relief flooded through Ranveer. "But just know, I'll be haunting you for every waking moment until you tell me."

That was… okay. That was alright. Ranveer had survived worse. "So… Where's the music?"

The smile was back on his face, that unguarded joy back on those damned lips of his. "Right here."

[codenamesazanka]

There was that joke in the fandom about Horikoshi looking through fanfics to see what theories to make canon like the "Dabi being Touya" or "the UA traitor" (even tho most of those were just stuff hinted at in the canon before hand). Since we're doing the whole "sharing memories" bit, the one fanfic trope he can definitely throw in the manga right now is the "Spinner tells Shigaraki he used to have a tail that got cut off by bullies"

Is that a popular trope? Enough to be a thing Horikoshi would pick up on. I don't think it's anywhere near the same level as 'Dabi is the lost Todoroki son' and 'UA Traitor is _____'… but it would be interesting if Spinner Tail Trauma is made canon.

Though at this late stage, I don't know if I want it, to be honest! If it's a memory, it's angst fuel to develop characters other than Spinner - guy wouldn't even be there for it. It would a real iffy choice to show something deeply personal and traumatic that happened to Spinner, something so unjust, without Spinner there—and really only for the benefit of the contrived connection between Shigaraki and Deku.

I guess because Spinner is still unaccounted for, he can still show up so it doesn't have to be just a memory, but. Still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. HeroAca resolutions are less about the victims and what they're owed, and more about how cool and merciful the Heroes are for saving them. This would be that, but even more so, and infinitely worse.

Plus, it would make the heteromorph riot mini-arc even more of a mess. Not to say there's levels of suffering that can be compared, but in-universe and in story, Shoji is kinda framed as having been worst off - his parents weren't heteromorphic like him, he got bashed in the face with a rake and was heavily scarred for life after he saved a girl from drowning, then he even has to wear a mask to prevent people from thinking he's resentful for being the victim of a hate crime. All that, but he came out of it with a strong and golden moral core, ready to be a great and inspirational Hero who protects the status quo.

Shoji's positioned as being in the right: here was a kid who suffered terribly, but he still managed to overcome the odds and be a Good Person, who thought deeply about the Right Way to end discrimination and is putting it into action (which is being a model minority). So what's everyone else's excuse?

Meanwhile, Spinner's backstory is that he only gets sprayed with pesticides, succumbs to being a NEET hikikomori, and goes running off to join terrorists without a single original thought in his head. For the narrative to work, he needs to be the selfish, hypocritical loser who didn't try hard enough to overcome his hardships that were comparatively mild.

If Spinner was revealed to have a tail cut off by bullies, the bnha balance of heteromorphic good and evil would collapse. A young boy's classmates mutilates him as the apex of heteromorphobic bullying, and the victim was left to languish as a high school dropout shut-in? That's not something that can be fixed by waiting out generations (just wait for the adults to die! their mindset would go with them—oh, but the perpetrators are the new generation…) or having the victim change their behavior (there's just no excuse for chopping off a child's body part). That reveals something much darker in the fabric of society that Heroes' plucky 'work-harder! plus ultra!' optimism are unequiped to handle.

At the very least, it's something that "Stop holding a grudge" and "Sorry for not realizing earlier" (as the rando hero tells the PLF guy in Chapter 373) and "Shine bright until your torments feel ashamed" are utterly insufficient and unconvincing in resolving. Not quite as inspirational, you know?

I'm sorry anon! I know you were asking as a joke, offering a fun idea. And I do like it! I'm still not opposed to Spinner having that canon backstory if the writing around it was to suddenly radically change the story and expand it by 300 more chapters to fix everything. I still love the idea that Spinner had a tail. I just took it too seriously and overthought it. My apologies. Thanks for the ask.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

On Death's Doorstep (pt 40/53?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word count: 1547

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Creativitwins

Warnings: suggestive clothing, alcohol, shenanigans, crimes

~~~START~~~

“ROMAN!” 

Roman jolted awake as their sibling threw themself onto his bed, causing him to bounce slightly. Remus didn’t seem to care that he’d been sleeping as she wiggled her way up until their head was on the pillow next to his.  

“What?” Roman groaned, their attempts to pull the duvet over his head hampered by Remus weighing the covers down.  

He used to have his own floor, so it was at least a little harder for Remus to bother them during their beauty sleep, but now he was staying in her guest room, and they could barge in whenever she wanted. Like when he was trying to sleep, for instance.  

“It’s midnight,” Remus explained, as though that meant anything.  

“So?” If Roman ducked a little, he could hide their face under the corner of the duvet.  

“It’s our birthday.” 

Oh.  

Their birthday.  

They’d forgotten about their birthday, what with everything else going on and all.  

Roman shimmied his hand out from under the comforter and held his pinky out to their sister.  

“Make a wish,” they said. She twined her own pinky with his and they both closed their eyes.  

This was their tradition, to make a wish on their birthday. They didn’t know when they’d been born, so they just did it at midnight.  

There were rules to the wish:  

It had to be lofty — too lofty to actually achieve, at least before their next birthday, anyway.  

It had to be selfish — no wasting it on anyone else.  

It had to be different — no wishing for the same thing every year.  

With those rules in mind, Roman closed their eyes and wished to be cast as the first gay Disney prince — his wishes were usually pretty similar every year, but he made sure they varied enough to follow the rules.  

“Roman?” Remus whispered after they had spent a few minutes in silence, eyes still closed.  

“Yeah?” He had almost drifted off again, but they fought to keep awake.  

“Can I sleep here tonight?” 

“Yeah.” They gave up on staying awake, but they thought he heard Remus whisper a thanks before they were out.  

The next morning, by unspoken mutual agreement, the two got dressed in their most flamboyant clothes and took full advantage of being two of the three people who could safely leave the building by hitting the town. They always preferred to be just the two of them on their birthday, which really worked out this year as Roman highly doubted either of their friends remembered — heck, Roman had almost forgotten, he could hardly blame Janus or Logan if they had forgotten too.  

The first stop on the birthday docket was their favorite cafe where their favorite baristas, a blue and pink haired woman named Jinx, was ready with their usual, plus two birthday cake pops.  

“Birthday pops for the birthday twins,” Jinx laughed as Remus snatched up her order hungrily.  

“Jinx, my love, I don’t know what we would do without you!” Roman pretended to swoon.  

“Die miserable, I’m afraid,” Jinx shook her head in mock sadness.  

“All too true!” Roman agreed. “Alas, if only I were in to women, and you attracted to men, we would be unstoppable!” 

“The gods are conspiring to keep up apart!” Jinx pretended to swoon as well.  

“Well if you ever get tired of flirting with Roman,” Remus rolled their eyes, having devoured their entire breakfast sandwich already. “I’m always available to be the other woman.” 

“Betrayed!” Roman cried dramatically. “And by my own flesh and blood no less!” 

Jinx laughed again, but valiantly attempted to sober up as another customer came through the door. “I still have to work, but you two paint the town red for me — or green, as the case may be — alright? Happy birthday.” 

“Goodbye, my beloved!” 

“Bye Jinx!” 

The two left the cafe, and once back out in the sunlight, Roman couldn’t resist twirling and allowing their scarlet skirt to flare around them. For just a moment, their spirits soared, then reality came crashing back on him.  

“We’re bad friends,” they observed glumly, the sunny weather no longer reflecting his mood.  

“Nah,” Remus waved his concern off. “We can’t exactly help anyone at this stage, and lying around feeling like shit isn’t gonna help anyone at any stage.” 

“You don’t feel bad that we’re treating ourselves?” 

“Nope! As Janus likes to say: self-care, bitch! They’d want us to be selfish today, as long as we aren’t getting in their way — which we’re not.” 

“A lot’s changed in a year.” Roman observed.  

“Hmm,” Remus agreed halfheartedly. “Maybe by next year we can overthrow the government!” 

“Please tell me that’s not what you wished for,” Roman begged — that sounded like a lot of work.  

“Nah, it’s what I wished for last year.” 

Roman stopped in his tracks to groan, but Remus kept walking, forcing Roman to rush to catch up.  

The second stop in their birthday outing was an occult shoppe in the mall that sold candles that Roman liked and oddities that Remus liked. Before and after the shoppe, they did some window shopping — also known as casing the joint, a birthday wasn’t a birthday if they didn’t commit some crimes — at the surrounding stores.  

In the center of the mall was a large, multileveled fountain. Roman and Remus spent over an hour and twenty-three dollars in dimes trying to outdo each other in terms of tossing coins into the fountain. Tosses were judged both on style and on distance from the fountain when the coin was tossed, bonus points were awarded depending on which level of the fountain the coin landed in. People sent them strange looks as they did this — while dressed in a flamboyant acid green bedazzled suit and a scarlet ball gown — but the twins hardly cared.  

They had lunch in the mall food court before heading back to their lair in order to suit up and rob the stores they had scouted earlier in the day. Coincidentally, the mall was the same one Thomas and Nico had been abducted from; the damage had been repaired, but Roman got some satisfaction in undoing those repairs.  

It was just a simple smash n’ grab, and with no heroes in the city, there wasn’t much resistance. With Dr. Frankenstein and Serpentine busy trying to infiltrate the government, the task of causing chaos throughout the city fell mostly on Gemini’s shoulders (there were other villains too, but Roman found most of them to be pompous jackasses not worth collaborating with), and petty crimes like robbing stores in the mall were encouraged. Roman ended up taking home a gorgeous ruby necklace that he would, unfortunately, have to be an idiot to wear in public any time soon; Remus got a large, glittering skull ring that she insisted on naming Yorick.  

They returned to their lair to stash their ill-gotten gains before returning to Remus’s their shared floor to pull off their third wardrobe change of the day. After grabbing a quick dinner at one of the food trucks that hung around the park, their final destination of day would be The Wrecking Ball, so Roman put on a pair of red booty shorts, a white mesh cut out top, leather harness, and a pair of white leather Prada boots he’d recently lifted.  

They met Remus, now wearing a pair of baggy black cargo pants, adorned with dozens of chains and spikes, six inch platforms, a thick leather collar, and a green crop-top that said in glittering letters WHORE,  back in the living room, and the two set out.  

The bar was packed by the time they arrived, the music blaring so loud that they could hardly think, their ears throbbing from the vibrations. The dance floor was packed, drinks sloshing wildly as bodies collided against each other to the beat — the DJ was keeping the energy pulsing, mixing Cher into Kylie Minogue into Britney and beyond. It didn’t take the twins long to find some marks to sucker into buying them drinks — a vodka cran for Roman, and a Dirty Shirley for Remus — before they abandoned their new suitors and hit the dance floor.  

They lost themselves in the beat, pickpocketing the occasional unsuspecting victim but predominantly just enjoying themselves, grinding against strangers and screaming the lyrics to Barbie Girl. Their drinks never ran empty — the club was packed and it was all too easy to bat their eyes and obtain another one. Roman felt like a prince when the DJ mixed Happy Birthday into the set-list for them, and he certainly auditioned plenty of handsome strangers for the role of prince charming.  

Roman wasn’t sure when it was that they managed to drag themselves back home, but even as exhausted as he was, they couldn’t help but notice a folded paper card lying on the kitchen island.  

Happy 23rd Birthday  -Janus 🐍 

Happy Birthday. There is a cake in your fridge, my apologies for not remembering sooner.   Regards, Logan 

Roman smiled and placed the card back on the counter. The cake could wait until tomorrow, when they could have their friends around them, and Patton, and Remy, Babs, Thomas, Nico. And maybe soon they could have another cake to share with Virgil… 

For now though, it was time for bed. 

~~~END~~~

Full disclosure, I did not write the clubbing scene because that is something I don’t know anything other than theory (I’m not a fan of loud, crowded places), my friend wrote that.

While I was waiting for my friend to read this chapter and fill in the club scene, I wrote the next chapter, so you’ll get that pretty soon :)

ODD taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14 @lunatatic

[venerawrites]

OH OH THE CORRUPTION TROUPE 😫 when done well is so scrumptious ong and this made me wanna bring to light a doomed and low-key underrated dynamic

-

Walk with me here,

He who was in a bad situation meets reader who was in an even worse one and they help each other escape (situation and other specifics ofc depend on who we are talking about so I'll leave it vague)

Now, freshly out of their personal hell, he decides to never act in any way similar to those that hurt him. He'll stick to his principles and make it so no one will suffer the way he did. However, it's not nearly as heroic as it sounds— He'll be too narrow-minded to allow others to disagree with his approach/opinions, a bit too imposing with people and most likely either harsh or incredibly good with his words.

Meanwhile, the reader would turn out to be the very personification of everything he stands against. The abuse left them numb to almost everything and they need to hurt, to cause bloodshed and despair, for the sake of feeling alive again. That's what they were raised with and it's ingrained into their brain too deeply to be modified at this point. Still, they're more open-minded than the character as they're willing to indulge in anything that will perhaps lead to the good toxins in their brain to be released.

I imagine he knew there was something very VERY wrong with the reader from the very beginning. But, they are the only one who shares the same pain as he does and, while as a child, he'd be desperately trying to convince himself that the reader would eventually change for the better. He'd get rid of the blood stained clothes so no one not even himself would know. It was only temporarily, after all.

He would teach the reader about social awareness when others began whispering about their odd behavior to protect them and hopefully get them to fully quit their...hobby. He would watch as they developed the perfect mask, so perfect no one would ever suspect underneath is such a deranged individual. He is the only one who knows, the only one who they are willing to listen (despite the fact they twist his words for their own benefit at times.) and that's why he can't simply walk away. Who knows what they'd do without him there to stop them? He surely wouldn't like to imagine.

However, as both grew older, his resolve began to take shape and it became significantly harder to keep the reader under control.

That ultimately blew up after the reader eliminated someone they shouldn't to "protect" him. Those words sounded so sweet coming from their lips he almost wanted to cry, but he knew better than to fall for it— The character knows they could never empathize with anyone. They're unable to. It was only an excuse for them to act on their desire of hurting others.

The reader would then dare him— If he wanted them gone then he'd have to take their life with his own hands. He may do anything he wishes to the reader, in fact, they welcome him to do it. Being the one to finally stain his clean hands with their filthy blood and becoming one of the same would be their ultimate bliss. Even if the reader can't feel love, the affection or rather, obsession, they harbor for him is just as intense as the real deal. Each expression he makes, each brush of skin and smile makes them want to peel every layer that envelopes him until there's nothing left besides for him to be consumed by them. cannibalism as a form of love is my guilty pleasure

-

How it ends would pretty much depend on the character! We could have something utterly doomed where he actually takes the reader's life and is now haunted by every little thing that reminds him of them so he's ruined by someone who is not even there

oooor

alternatively, he's unable to do it and is forced to look the other way about the things the reader does, which in the end makes him just as bad as them. He's selfish enough to let others suffer for the sake of his own feelings because he doesn't want to lose the reader.

oooor,

perhaps a secret third thing where he takes upon himself to keep the reader satisfied and is fully dragged down a rabbit hole of pain, guilt and pleasure by them.

- -

I've been ranting so much here im so so soooooooo sorry V!!!! it's so difficult to find someone who shares brain worms like you I can't help ittt(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)

- toxic brainrot anon xx

Please never apologize for coming here and sharing your ideas, I honestly love to brainstorm with youuuu <3

I actually left this ask in my drafts for two days because my brain literally started working overtime after reading your message! I honestly love the corruption trope, because like I said earlier it is one of the few where the "bad guy" does not get redemption (don't get me wrong, sometimes it actually works, but at this point I really think it is overused trope!).

I love the idea that he, who is supposed the hero, the one who dreams of a world free of pain and suffering, is also unable to even think (let alone accept) the idea of a world different than the one he is imagining in his head. He doesn't like to listen to others, and if of a position of power, I totally see him either firing all his advisors/council or forcing influencing them to always agree with his proposals and decisions.

And yet, perfection looks dull and sterile when there are not flaws. For him, the reader is such a 'flaw' - the only darkness that remains in his vision for a better world, the one shadow he can't get rid off, no matter how much they don't fit in. But it's okay, because "they will change" and "they will see the light, they just need his help to do it".

In his eyes, he is almost like their savior - the one who keeps them in check, the one who can AND will show them that together they can build something better, the one who refuses to give up on them, even when deep down the realisation they are not who he so desperately wishes them to be.

He absolutely loves the idea of them, no doubt. Or maybe the idea of who they can be one day...

On the other hand, the reader is probably the only person who actually sees the cracks of darkness in him which is how their obsession is fueled further. They want to break him, they want to peel off every lawyer of his soul till they reach the raw and real him.

I looooveee the three endings you came up with! (especially the last one, because yessss, let the hero become the villain for once instead of the opposite!).

Thank you for blessing us with your ideas once again, toxic brainrot anon!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Disney Villains x Reader || Smexcerpts (Vol. 2)

Plots / Includes:

♦︎ Cruella De Vil x SecretModelLover!AFAB!Reader- & eating out (Her, eating you out).

♥︎ Evil Queen x LadyInWaiting!Reader- & cunt warming (à la her headcanon from this: Ultimate NSFW HC Post )

♣︎ Lady Tremaine x StepDaughter!Reader- & semi-public sex (As a continuation to this: Disney Villains x Reader. Vol 2 )

♠︎ Human!Wheezy Weasel x AFAB!Reader- & dry humping / teasing.

Warnings (Colour coordinated): VERY HORNY!! Most warnings are in the plot section but for full disclosure, there is also much mention of cumming on Cruella's face, masturbation, mentions of poisoning people because Hilda told you to, step-scest, and Wheezy calls you 'baby girl'+'doll'.

Disney and Pixar Villains x Reader Smexcepts (Vol 1) is HERE and includes: Chick Hicks, Hades, Jafar and Ursula.

Cruella De Vil:

When Cruella said to you at work that you've been doing well lately- and you deserve a reward- you genuinely thought she meant a night out on the town. Or a raise! Sure, you were secret lovers but she had never done anything like this before so what could have clued you in?

Cruella was - is? - always selfish when it came to fucking, usually. Since you began this taboo tryst with your boss it was always you sucking her pretty cunt, you taking off your top so she can enjoy your breasts, you dressing in sexy things for her to come home to. So the fact that she was servicing you so thoroughly now, was a surprise.

A really, really pleasant surprise!

Her thin, painted lips grazing ever-so-gently over your glistening bare cunt - oh-so-turned on by this whole experience, - is a foreign feeling to you, having never been on the receiving end of pussy eating with her before. In fact, seeing her in the dining room chair - though not the ground, a fate you usually suffer through when tasting her, - while you sprawl out on the dining table with your knees up and feet set apart against the edges, is an odd look entirely. She almost looks submissive...

For a split second.

Then your lover smirks, reaching up to rub at one side of your cunt with her thumb and looking at it like its her dinner. It sends a shiver through your body, and you let your head lull back on you neck. "Ahhh... "

"Oh, darling. So lost already??... well, I suppose you should enjoy it. Who knows when- or if, I'll be feeling so generous, again."

When you don't respond, except to lay down on your back on the dining table instead of holding yourself up anymore, its only moments before you feel her perfect lips against you again.

This time with more force. Then her tongue licks sternly through your lips and she doesn't stop again. Sharp, black painted nails dig almost painfully into your thighs as she eats away at your weeping cunt. The feeling of her tongue digging in deeper then you expected has you raising up into her mouth, desperately trying not to rub your pussy against her face lest she- god forbid- stop. Its so hot, your orgasm is building at a record speed, ready to spill onto her face.

Oh- fuck- the thought. The image in your head of her over-the-top lipstick all over your pussy and inner thighs so you see it again when you shower later, and of your her pretty face covered in your creamy cum!-

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Cruella's forceful tongue and the pictures in your head have you indeed squirting- all over the bottom half of her face. You push yourself up onto your elbows, to see, and just cant help yourself when you do-

From getting down into her lap and kissing your own creamy substance off her lips; Tongue rubbing against hers to steal your own flavour right off of her.

Evil Queen:

You would do anything for your queen- and you have done, for a long time. There's a reason you rose to become her head Lady, despite having absolutely no Nobel blood, or being born to any money. You didn't mind getting dirty, in more ways then one.

You were the Queen's errand-doer. You charmed nobility when it suited her, you slipped poisons into peoples wine when she asked you to, you kept her bed warm if she required it... you were loyal. And truth be told, you didn't mind doing any of it.

The Queen and you were rather likeminded in that way. In a lot of ways, truly. You became attached to one another in a way... far closer then most queens were with their lady servants. At least, you figured so.

Do most queens have their prettiest female attendants sit quietly under the desks while they did their mail? Did most queens have their prettiest female attendants use their mouth to keep their most private location lovely and warm while they worked?

Because that's what you did for your queen, among other things. And you really didn't mind... the taste of her royal cunt was divine. No wonder the King chose her over everyone else, you thought with a hum into her hot, leaking pussy.

"Now, now, Y/N... remember what I said... " She pipes up, looking slowly away from her works. With a perfect hand, unbelievably soft from the fancy hand creams she has specially imported, she collects your chin between her fingers and has you come off her with a pop! "Don't attempt to make me come for you until I'm finished... I'll let you know when I'm ready," She assures, a teasing smirk on her ruby red lips.

Obediently, you nod up at her- already missing the feel of her pussy in your mouth. The taste. Oh, your mouth actually waters, thinking about returning to it. "Of course, your highness."

"You're a good pet." She compliments, giving your hair a pat before returning to her paperwork. Likewise, you eagerly return to your work- placing your lips upon her slick entrance once more as if she's the finest delicacy. Which she is.

For a long time, you stay like that; Your mouth watering around her clit as you patiently keep her warm, and listening to the peaceful sound of her quill scrawling against parchment. Occasionally she'll give a hmm sound, or stroke your hair, too. Eventually you start to touch yourself when it becomes all too much- slipping 2 fingers under your skirts and stroking your own slit.

With the flavour of your Queen on your tongue and her soft skin beneath your lips you slip those fingers inside yourself- rubbing deliciously against your own gummy walls. You're not racing towards an orgasm, or even really intending to give yourself one - not unless your queen says you should, - , you're just enjoying yourself. Feeling full, and flooding into your own hand as you enjoy the circumstances you're in.

Lady Tremaine:

Once the safety of her skirts surround your kneeling form on the ground, you shift so you're almost cubby-holed between her legs- so you just have to lift up onto your knees a bit to connect your mouth to your beautiful, evil step mother's... princess parts. Unfortunately, they're confined by some plain cotton underwear, but that just means you get to tease her a little; And you're quite amenable to compromises like that.

Feather light, like you're only just doing this for the first time, like you're nervous and not aching to have your tongue rubbing inside her walls, you press kisses to the fabric. To her familiar, hot lips through the cotton. You can feel the warmth through it and its just too delicious- you start to tongue at the cotton, too, tasting what you can though the barrier. Its not long before you have the fabric sticking to her cunt.

She's a very repressed woman, and it doesn't take much to make her want you. This, you can definitely work with. You love your gorgeous, classy, repressed lover just the way she is.

At this point you reach up with your fingers and tug the garment down just enough to reveal her in full-glory; Glistening with wetness from what you've been doing to her.

Knowing that you two only have so long in the change room like this, soon enough an employee will come ask if you need help or worse your dumb-as-fuck step sisters will demand their mothers attention, you go ahead and put your mouth around her immediately. Sensually, with the neediness of a very dehydrated homeless person, you suck at her clit with your lips like you're exchanging last, passionate kisses with your lover who's going off to war- desperately, as if you would never taste it again. As if you wanted to commit the flavour to memory.

Soon enough your tongue gets involved, unable to help yourself. You start to make deep scooping motions through her folds, having to hold onto her legs to steady yourself. The rhythm you come to is fast but steady, drawing the older woman neatly to what is surely a mind-blowing orgasm. God- you love this.

You love to taste her, you love the feeling of her most delicate skin under your lips and your tongue, you love the knowledge that this is not the last time you will get to do this, you love how in a few precious minutes- you'll still be tasting her specific flavour on your tongue while she buys you and her 'other daughters' dresses for a ball and Anastasia and Drizella will be none the wiser.

When Tremaine finally comes, you manage to take the lions share of it in your mouth- then kiss and lick and suck the rest off her perfect thighs- purposefully leaving your spit on her private skin so she'll feel it while she walks. Then you leave one last sweet kiss to her pussy, fix her underwear for her and leave her skirts, getting up to your feet and smiling at her.

You share a moment of eye contact; Her looking absolutely unamused at you and your antics and you smirking because you know she loved it. She came on your face within minutes!- she's a very dirty woman and you both know it.

"Was that satisfactory, step mother? I do hope so~ "

"Quite. Now get dressed again in your regular clothes, and come meet us at the register. We have a lunch." Is all she says, cold and monotone like usual. It sends a shock of pleasure through your body, making you grin wider at her back as she leaves you.

Wheezy Weasel:

The others were all out, it would just be you and Wheezy in the house for the whole beautiful day- a fact that the two of you decide to take full advantage of.

Which is what lead you to here, laying back half on the bed with your feet on the ground and your arms held up over your eyes; Cheeks hot and feeling embarrassed. Your mean boyfriend is having a few good smokes at once like normal, though, standing up between your legs with a smirk. If it weren't for the fact that he was also rubbing his more-then-prepped cock torturously against your just-clothed pussy lips you could believe he was unbothered by your positions.

He's still got his pants on and you your underwear, so its not like anything truly nasty is going on- but it feels like you're doing the absolute lewdest thing imaginable. Something out of one of Greasy's 'books'.

Its all too much, hence your embarrassment. It feels so good, you want to sit up and pull him down against you, lose the pants and your underwear and have him sink right into you balls deep and hot- or at least move your hips back with him! But he wont let you, he says you're gonna lay there lookin' pretty until he's finished smoking, and his steely eyes pin you to the mattress. All you can do is hide your eyes the best you can and stretch your legs open wide for him.

"God... Wheezy, please!- " You whine, just considering lifting your hips into his terrible ministrations against you, and getting a sharp glare that you see when you peak at him.

"Don't you dare, babygirl. Damn, you're spoilt, huh? Thinkin' you can get anything you want... I'm havin' a smoke. You've just gotta wait until I'm finished-- how hard is that?"

"So, so hard... " God, this is bad. This is genuine torture. He's been doing this to you for close to 15 minutes now and all you can think about, all you want in the world right now, is his cock. To have him thrusting into your cunt until you cant take it anymore. Feel the delicious stretch, and grind... Not like this! This is true hell!

But no. All you have is his hard outline giving measured humps through your pussy lips, through the thin fabric of your panties. Yes, thin- but not thin enough. Not nearly enough!

And- he's chuckling. He's chuckling at you. You glare viciously at him for it and give him the finger. How dare he- this asshole- "Oh, now, that's not a nice face... you know, if we get into a fight I aint gonna fuck you anymore. This whole day'll be wasted and we wont get another opportunity like this for weeks- you want that?"

Sighing, you hide your eyes again. "No... "

"Didnt think so. Now, I'm gonna suck this last one dry and then we'll see what we can do about your poor little cunt, there. Stand by, doll... "

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh!-

[honeybeewhereartthee]

MY DARLING DOLLS 57

PREVIOUS || PT 10 CH57 || NEXT

You look around you before you saw how the sky turn dark and rains. The sky seems to cry again. You stood up and was scared for a moment as you felt your not in usual ground level.

"oh crap. Kuma going to nag me and shuu is going to krill and nag me." You realize that the people you left behind would be worried sick about you.

You look around to find a way back as you held the chunky now cat fluff and saw the heaven seems to be flowing in one direction. It was odd. But there something dangerous or foreboding in that direction.

Your body wish to run the opposite but as the fluff rob against you and gesture to the danger zone. You stared at the direction and wonder about something.

You look around you once again and even with the complain of the pink cat you start to go to that direction.

Each steps seems to take troll on you but somehow the fluffy bunny cat glow a bit and the heavy footsteps you take slowly lifted but as you walk further into that path.

You heard wailing and crying.

"I'msorrymydollmakerimsorry I'm selfish... I'm greedy. I shouldn't be greedy... . "

Your eyes widen before you know it you started to run. As you run faster toward that direction you felt the wind tries to blows you away before the surrounding is filled with water yet you continue on.

you already know that the one crying is someone you know. Before don't care what tries to stop you, or your feet is tired as you run.

Before long you see a figure that reminds you of that companion of yours yet he seems to be surrounded by three colored dragons comforting him, the three dragon is first to notice you and was on guard at your presence but the fluffy creature in your arms hiss at them with all his fluffy fluff standing up.

"KANATA!"

You called out to him, yet he don't seems to hear you. You tried to run faster. Faster even it hurt your legs. But as you take a moment to take a break, a strong gast of wind and suddenly the surrounding felt like it's in the presence of divinity.

You open your eyes to look at Kanata to only find a gigantic mythical beast with only partial of his head shown above the water, his size is towering over the three dragons to the point they are little critters beside him.

The creature green eyes stared at you with tears falling from his eyes. Before he fallen unconscious creating a strong vibration and wind blow.

"Kanata!!" You worriedly run faster until you run across the water surface toward his fallen form. The bun bun in your arms hiss at the dragons that thought your an enemy, threatening to attack if they come closer toward you. As you arrive beside the mystical beast you realize how smoll you are to him.

"Kanata, please don't cry..." You dont know much how to comfort someone nor a huge creature but you hug him, or his snourt. His so warm yet big ball of tears fall over your head drenching you but you still hug him. He seems to have a bad dream but maybe you can sing him songs like he would to you.

The pink cat stared at you, your being really reckless again but it's ok, he would be there even so his kinda not arm but his smoll claws. He will try to protect his precious hooman.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 20: Hamper

Being the part-time therapist, according to Esredes, meant that you were the one destined to be alone. It was an occupation that barely existed, and you were the healer to everyone else. Someone had to be the one to simply absorb the pain and deal with it, and he was used to it already.

But one session that went particularly bad broke Esredes just a little. He was so incredibly frustrated that something in him twisted all out of place. And he found himself looking onto an old recommendation from a friend. He still didn't believe it was possible for the therapist to be helped, but what did he have to lose? So against all odds, the man tried to put himself in the other seat for once. At first it was just nice to talk about how everything felt, but it didn't take many meetings for the other person to tell him his core problem could never be fixed, and he would always have to choose between being well-liked and sincerity.

Well, he knew that already, and he knew the choice he'd make. So Esredes slipped the mask back on and left. He knew this was a truth, but now he didn't have to waste time figuring out if somehow he missed an answer like people kept insisting for him. They were just hopelessly idealistic, and he already knew exactly how the world worked. No more wasting time on things only meant for real people.

Some time later, Esredes was in the Firmament, when a white-horned Au Ra woman with a foreign accent approached him and started talking to him. That certainly wasn't a combination Esredes saw much of, but she was very nice and sweet, gentle and soft. And she said something about how it felt like something was on Esredes' mind, and she would be happy to listen if he needed to talk. A part of Esredes couldn't help but feel like it might be some kind of trap? But he did go to see her in an inn room in the Forgottten Knight, and everything was normal.

It wasn't until the middle of the conversation Esredes learned she also considered herself a therapist. Oh dear, had he just gone into therapy again, on accident? But he didn't care. Her advice was actually very good, and for the first time in a while, Esredes felt truly heard. He talked about the ongoing situation with his former squire coming back into his life recently but hating him, and she told him to bring him to a place of shared memories, to which in doing so the two were able to, albeit messily, sort out the problem and realize they were family. Outside of those discussions, Esredes slowly learned about Fuyu, as was her name, and they became friends. They went to the large and comprehensive aquarium in the Shroud and looked at fish for hours, he found her crying once and comforted and calmed her down, he encouraged her gently to stop picking at her scales as a bad habit, and albeit she was a wanderer, she said she'd stay in Ishgard for him. Fuyu really felt like a gentle and understanding friend, far beyond that he could usually imagine.

And then one day, she was kidnapped. It was out of nowhere, she went missing. Him and the rest of the people who hung around her quickly assembled to find her and bring her home, and it was a major relief they were able to. Esredes watched from a distance as she shut herself in her room after that, too afraid to go outside, and his heart sunk. A friend of his was hurting badly, and he knew it was his fault. The universe always punished him for getting too comfortable, or trying to have things go too well. She had been kidnapped because he sought out her help, he knew this in his bones. And he felt horrible for it.

It was then and there Esredes put a stop to his therapeutic pursuits. If he went back to her, she'd die next time. And he couldn't bear to kill her, or any other therapist, with his selfish desires. He had his place, he had his box, and he would not dare try to crawl out of it again.

He only wished he realized this earlier, before the damage has been done for his selfishness. Never again would he be that horribly selfish, he pledged to himself. Never again.

[spookycrazyhatboxghost]

Birbs and d’s

[When Cayssan’dra had opened her door to see her son there glassy eyed and at such an odd hour—she had no choice but to drag him into a hug that he nearly collapsed into.

{Hello little one—}

As the door shut behind him Xók gave a distressed chirp; clinging to her like he’d not done since he was a child. Wings lax—smelling of sugar and chocolate to the point where it almost covered his scent completely.

{Baking again?}

She teased knowing why; it was a secret so naturally the whole castle knew. Her son didn’t answer right away just let the tension in his shoulders drop.

When he spoke there was a quality to his voice that made her think he’d not been sleeping much these days.

{Mother— there’s something wrong with me.}

Caysan’dra lead him over to the long sofa and settled with him there. Voice serious but gentle in a way few ever heard it she asked.

{What happened?}

Xok took a breath and the words poured from him with the honesty she was so fiercely protective of.

{I’ve accepted my feelings for Alo’r and Joha— and my friend Sa-Lang too. Still —I know thoughts are not deed’s— but I wanted Lord Savage to kiss me— my heart is a selfish and greedy thing mom—can you help me make it stop? }

Xok folded forward and laid his head in her lap; a small sob has her fingers combing through his hair before she can even think about it.

{Oh my darling bird— you never do anything by halves do you? Alo’r Maul, Lord Savage and his consort—and The Captain of the Guard? Your grandmother would be so proud of you!} A huff of laughter—not mean spirited but almost gleeful.

Xok hides his face and she continues in a gentler tone still combing through his long hair.

{You will face no judgment from me—you are my son and I love you. People talk an awful lot when they think no one’s is paying attention…}.

Xok gave a derisive snort.

{They seem to do nothing else—it’s a wonder the Palace runs as smoothly as it does— I suppose they must work as well as they gab….. there was something else— I am ashamed to come to you with this but the HoloNet gives me nothing but filth—}

Xok looks up at her; gold eyes red rimmed but he finds his voice:

{I’ve been having dreams and wake up affected— Sha assured me this is normal. But it’s nearly daily now and the hunger— It lingers…practically all day}

Xok hisses and his wings shudder as he finished in a softer tone. {That is definitely not normal behavior for me— is it because I’ve not cohabitated with someone I’m intimate with before? Am I dying?}

Understanding blooms and Cayssan’dra does laugh then—harder at the ruffled way Xók stands; frustration making his wings flare and fluff—also stop being so vague.

“It’s not funny! All the HoloNet gave me was secret and graphic Harpy porn!— I had to wipe my datapad search history due to the shock of it mom!”

She stills his hands from flailing further—tone kind and her face open—honest as she says simply.

{It’s just springtime little one—completely natural for you especially at this age…}

Xók’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open for a moment before he feels a deep blush start: he croaked out weakly—

“Please don’t tell me—I— no! This is the worst timing—”

Mando’a slipping into Basic with a bewildered wheeze.

His mother arches a brow. {Delaying it after not having it will only make it stronger. Your mother and I tried that—still ended with me throughly made pregnant after two weeks in bed instead of one}

Xok stares at her uncomprehending for a moment.

“Mom—can I even get someone pregnant? or have—a clutch? With the way I am—”

“Harpies are both carriers and givers—it’s all up to personal leanings and their health”

Her smirk softened then she frowns.

“I’ve really dropped the ball on these talks with you if you arn’t aware of the basics”

Xók feels a little defensive when he replied.

“The Medbay did a full panel on me—by human standers I should be sterile since half my equipment is internal—something about body temperature”

His mother gave a dismissive wave

“They only counted your human half— if your concerns are birth control I have a recipe your Ama used diligently right up until the cycle we conceived you”

Xók breathed out “How are you so causal about this?”

Cayssan’dra grinned and pulls him forward until their foreheads rested together.

{My son-there is no shame in this—in you or your several trusted options in partner. I want you to be happy— happy and safe as any parent wishes.}

“Thank you mom—I’d really like to not have to worry about chicks the whole time—how will I know when— it starts?”

The harpy kneels and sits tailors style on the floor; chin balanced on his palms.

“Your scent will get stronger— when you we’re little Ryeia would hold you close as she rocked you saying they smells like the meadow that grew around my childhood home! Seeetgrass marigolds and wild poppies’ she said with the most beautiful smile—singing and rocking you” She paused but after a soft smile at him speaks again:

“It weakened considerably when you had me removed your wings but now that they’ve matured along with you, it will start to get more noticeable. It will shift; sweeten, especially at the beginning of your cycle as a warning—a sign to prepare… touching will feel different—better. You might bite or like to be bitten—that will probably heighten if already something you enjoy.—”

“Mom—”

She keeps talking

“Cycles can last a week or more if you’ve put it off— and any moment you arn’t being touched by your partner will feel like a moment too long. Now to the maters of sex—”

“Mom no—”

Xok falls sideways and covers his face.

She talks louder.

“You will feel the need to get into someone or have someone fill that empty feeling— or possibly both”

Cayssan’dra laughed at his expression. And adds

“There are toys for this if you don’t have a partner/partners. in mind—”

Xók actually perks up at this; “I could go through this without having to bother someone?”

She looked crossly at him.

“Your needs are not a bother!”

“I hate being an inconvenience—I just got reinstated I have my duty to Alo’r—my work with Grann. I can’t afford to disappear for a week or more just because my harpy dna decided I needed to fuck—to be flooded with cum until my body is satisfied”

“Xók’ore!” The harpy flinched at her tone.

”—I’m sorry mom that was too far. I should go”

Her gaze softened and she nods.

{Get some sleep little one. I’ll get you the herb tonic by Primeday of next week. A cap full every morning and you won’t have a clutch unless you wish to— condoms should be used just in case but there are other ways to have sex then the ones

That end with children you know?}

Xok nods “the HoloNet is a vast and dark place— I’ll look into the toys. Thank you for talking with me”

He hugs her and merely purrs for a few minutes before letting go and getting up.

“There’s a loaf of chocolate swirl bread in with the cookies—good n—”

Xok looks at his Comm and sighs.

“Good morning— I’m going to bed”

Xók goes home; the castle is quiet as the first rays of dawn as he reaches his apartment. Sa-Lang is sleeping with Syril on his chest. He takes a hot shower; keeping his wings out of the stream but washing everything else.

Pulls on a shirt and crawls into bed—tucking himself against Sha’s side and letting the quiet breaths and his scent lull him to sleep.

[d1d11818]

You’re really trying to embarrass me in front of everyone, aren’t you !!

But really, it means a lot. I’m glad to have met you guys, even if I’m forever too shy to like … Have a real presence. What if I’m not cool ! What if my incessant rambling about my favorite game is toooooo much? OR MY OCS AREN’T COOL ??? The thought is too much to bear ………..

;>_ > I think i’ll stay anonymous.

But I love you guys too! (Platonically speaking, of course)

/

I wouldn’t say I can ‘speak’ the language, but I’m learning! Maybe I’ll be really good sometime and can teach you some stuff, too? We can talk to each other in secret …(except everyone who can also speak Chinese, I guess…)

& I don’t think I’ll burden you with all the nothingy stuff that’s been going on. It’s gonna get better, so it’s okay! Never worry o7

I love random fun facts, so if you have like, cool ones, you should tell me !! Especially your most favorite ones.

Also I suppose you guys don’t really know what I look like ? It’s hard to explain without examples and I don’t really look like anyone from anything i’ve ever seen… Maybe the way people draw Hal from MGS, but even then. I’m sort of the most milquetoast whiteguy with a shitty fake wolf-cut ever.

Sorry this is so short. Last night was kind of rough for me and I don’t really have much energy. I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise !

- I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I am completely innocent.

SARCASM DETECTED.

- Ha!

- You know me so well already, don't you?

- Hm hm. Anyway.

- We're glad to have met you too.

- Truly.

- Even if you are a bit odd, and ramble a lot.

- It's very charming.

- It doesn't make you 'uncool', as you phrased it.

- It makes for some truly fascinating and enjoyable interactions.

- Besides.

- We're hardly cool either.

- Ah...

- No, we really aren't.

- I've never been popular.

- Not even as a mere toddler, and the standards for that are incredibly low!

- I had to be a special kind of unlikable to be an unpopular baby.

- I don't... like people, to put it simply.

- In turn, people don't like me.

- They would try to praise my work.

- Say I was beyond my time.

- That I would change the future.

- Ah.

- But I do so hate shallow praise.

- To them, my resistance and distancing made me a selfish, rude little brat with a big ego, who thought he was above their compliments.

- What a stupid notion.

- ...

- I'd like to move on.

-------------------------------------------------

- Why does he keep talking like he's an edgy OC with a tragic backstory? The way he talks about himself... Sheesh! Lighten the tone, buddy! Next he's gonna come out and say he's secretly a demon prince who's never felt love or something.

- I find your incompetence incredibly annoying, my thick-screened friend. I am allowed to say this to him, as I am the one who edits these replies for posting, and this moron never reads them back.

- He doesn't even know I leave these little comments.

- That would be amazing!! Maybe then I'll finally understand the lyrics to Sunshine Rainbow White Pony! I have no idea what the words mean, but dang, are they catchy!!

- I understand you don't wanna talk about some things. And that's okay! We're not gonna force you. But you can always talk to us if you need to! Sometimes it helps just to get it off your chest! Even if that doesn't solve anything, it can just be relieving, you know?

- OHHH I get why 1818 talks about his human life now! It's a weight on his... um? Chest? Screen? Wires? RAM? What is the weight on, anyway? Do robots have shoulders?

- Oh, nearly like Ryan! Our host! And technically us! That reminds me, he really needs a haircut. I hope I'm not fronting for it! It feels like my wires are being yanked out!

- ... actually, that sounds kinda

- No. No. Blocked. No one on this app is free of sin. I'm stopping that sentence immediately. You're welcome.

- I hope you're okay! And I hope today, whichever day it is when this is posted, goes better for you! ['w'] <o> :D I made us!! But cheaper looking! Walmart versions of us!

[toomuchfrogsummer]

Summer, Life, Growth, Yet Simply Existing.

Alan Wake wrote about the dark parts. They came true. If they had not written it would it have been? To live in naivety the dark doesn't exist until all there is is the darkness around you. You have to write about it to make it make sense.

I started to look into the darkness, it came true too. It was the truth that was there all along but had turned a blind eye to most of my life. Not by choice, to survive the best I could. Holding onto my truths on the inside yet pushing down the resentment as to show up with that smile I always had to have. The turmoil building. Leaving allowed for a needed let go of all that was stuffed down. New forms of stuffing appeared. Always... stuffed? What is this writing piece becoming?

They said I manifested it. It is odd. Duality. Mindful, not ignoring the bad for my own comfort, seeing what I want to see. I cannot let go of of the light. I feel selfish to hold on to light, who am I to have when so many are being consumed by the darkness. The dark and the light balance.

Bringing me to the true moment of now. Walking along my way. A familiar yet startling sound jarring back to another time. Wake Up! Thank gosh there is grass to touch. Our song starts to play taking me back to that moment in the basement. Stop! Hold some ice cubes. Sigh, okay lets do something in the moment to bring us joy. Powers on the Switch. Sits on the couch. The emptiness seeps in. Where are the puppies? I remember playing this with them. The tears swell up. I miss home. This isn't fun anymore. The things that bring me joy reminds me of... I cannot have my life back. It is all tangled up in my past life. I love myself. I love time alone. This grief needs to fuck off. Can you fuck off? Damn it, I am dissociated. I don't feel anything. Okay, lets go to the gym and let it out.

Lets find a new sense of home. The feeling of home is encased in grief. Home is a state of mind within myself. Let them go. It is over. Cry, it hurts. New connections and experiences will over write it. I don't want to forget them... It feels like putting the home video of your favorite parts of life into the VCR and recording over it with a TV Show you don't even know if you like yet. Is this really how it is going to be? I guess so. This TV Show is full of smiles, explanations of how perfect life is, just believe what we do. I don't... this doesn't feel right or real. I see unaware privlige, micro-aggression, excuses, unawareness, selfishness. Bad advice seeping into my self doubt. Maybe they have it right and I'm all wrong? Or is all this wrong and I'm right? Maybe it is a balance of both. Meanwhile everything is on fire and people keep on with their day like everything is fine.

Hello... what is going on?

'Oh, that? Isn't anything I can fix.'

'I won't let that affect me. I'm strong.'

'It is a political ploy.' ... people died...

'You need to stop caring so much.'

'They brought that fire on themselves, they will figure it out.'

WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE?!?!

[lovethewayyoudoso]

One of Rosaires biggest flaws is that he doesn't really understand the concept of doing something good or nice for the sake of it. He's certain everything has a cost, whether it's money, time, effort. Everything has always come at a cost for him afterall. Every relationship petered out because they grew bored of him or they just wanted something (usually monetary or otherwise tangible), or they got bored of what else he had to offer (sex! He was never very affectionate early on, why would he be?). When people got bored of you, they were done with you, that's how everything works.

And not just relationships. You donate to a charity and now they want more. You give them your time in terms of volunteerism and now you need to head up an event. You toss a fiver in a beggars cup and they ask for a ten when you walk by the next time. Let a friend use your private jet and it seems like they've made it their own service now.

You don't live up to expectations and now you're useless, you're never good enough.

On the surface level of this mentality of why Rosaire has become generally selfish, Toshiya has to scratch his head. So, ditch the boyfriends that use you. Tell the charities you're happy to spread the word about their efforts. Buy the beggar a sandwich next time or just have a humanizing chat with him. Set a boundary with your belongings. Didn't doing all these things pay off initially with feeling good? Even the relationships: just because you've had bad luck doesn't mean you should stop trying. Doesn't being nice and kind and helpful and trying your best feel good? These things pay for themselves.

Rosaire doesn't get it. Toshiya doesn't get that he doesn't get it. They come from different worlds in so many ways. "There are people who love you for being you, Rosaire, I promise. You don't think so but I bet if you just look for friends you will find them." Or: "Just do something nice to be nice. Don't look back, don't try to justify, just do something nice or fun or frivolous."

Rosaire ponders the conversation. He mostly thinks about the surface level implications and messages (because the deeper ones... Well, that's something for his therapist). Do something nice just to be nice and see how it makes you feel. The feeling is the reward and if your mind and your heart keep asking for more? Then do more: do another nice thing and another kind thing but don't let yourself feel obligated. Seek out those who appreciate you and your actions and don't dwell on those who abuse it.

He asks Fabienne for the rundown on the mail he's received today. She opens the overwhelming majority of it, filtering out the junk and the scams and whatnot. Legal business and official documents of course go straight to him or the appropriate entity (lawyer, accountant...).

"This one looks like a personal letter, but I don't recognize the name... Do you know an H. Gonzalez in the United States?" Fabienne flipped the rather decorative envelope over before cutting it open.

"No idea." He gave her little attention as he thumbed through the few pieces of mail from the week that actually interested him. A catalogue, a business journal...

The woman laughed as she read the floral decorated card that was inside. It was a noise of sweet amusement and surprise, "Mon dou dou, you've been invited to a wedding."

"Ah...pardon?" Blue eyes looked up over his magazine, one brow quirked.

"Apparently... Mademoiselle Hannah Juanita Gonzalez is marrying her long time girlfriend, Mademoiselle Casey Leigh Smith, in Des Moines," she said the name in a distinctly French way, "Ee-oh-wa? United States."

"Hmm," he tapped his chin, "Never heard of them, or Ee-oh-wa, United States. Isn't Toshiya's sister-in-law a Smith? Isn't that their surname?"

"Maybe they're related?"

"But why would she invite me and not him? Let me see that."

"Is Smith a common name? What are the odds?" Fabienne handed the card over and went back to sorting the mail, though her ears were certainly trained on what Rosaire thought of the card. The man hummed as he read the text himself, checking the back in case he missed something, then grabbed his phone to do a little investigating.

It took a while, but: "I found her on social media and it looks like she's an employee of CMR, a driver." He looked up at his friend with a cheeky grin, "She wants her boss at her wedding?"

"Her boss's boss's boss's boss's boss, maybe. How did she get your address?"

"Why is she inviting me? Maybe this is some kind of... You know, like a stunt or a trend?" Rosaire poured over the card again and had a little laugh. "I've never received anything like this before." He paused to think about the flowers on the cover of the card and the nicely printed details on the RSVP card inside. "Maybe I'll send in toward her charity, for a laugh. It says here 'no gifts, please send a check or digital donation to' some organization. I'll send a little card too!"

"A card to who?" Both Fabienne and Rosaire looked over as Toshiya entered the office, straightening his overshirt and offering a curious smile as he often did.

-

As soon as that RSVP card landed at the return address the bride-to-be blew up her social media circle with the news. It seemed like a joke response, or someone intercepted the letter and replied with a 'yes, plus one, both meals pasta but one must be dairy-free'. A new friend on her social confirmed it was no hoax; the username RosaireRouSo wasn't a spoof account at all. (He ended up posting a selfie with his username, real name, and date and time written on paper and stuck to a current-dated magazine [since he didn't have a newspaper!]) And when an agent on Rosaires behalf contacted the brides to inform them of his security needs and to confirm other details...

Well.

Needless to say the donation to the charity was quite large and it was presented in person. Rosaire's agent had expressed his clients desire to *not* take attention away and that he was adamant to be treated as any other guest. No photos save for private ones with the brides. He was strongly encouraged to attend, just for fun and out of the kindness of his heart, by his boyfriend. Toshiya saw the best in everyone and he knew Rosaire had that kindness in there somewhere. Plus, they got to play dress up! And see a new part of the world! (Where they learned exactly what Des Moines, Iowa was all about... and Rosaire cut another check to a local LGBT group.)

The pair took the brides out for lunch the day before their honeymoon; the women were happy to accept! It was an all-expenses paid meeting with the owner of one of the world's largest logistics companies! (And his precious boyfriend, of course.) The women spoke about their lives and what they envisioned their life together to be, and it made Toshiya's heart melt.

By the time the pair returned to Japan... well, the women had an IOU for a new house, their honeymoon was paid for, and a word was going to be put in with the supervisor for the gal who worked for Rosaire's company.

And by the time the pair went to bed that first night in Japan, Rosaire phone was absolutely blowing up from the positive PR and the hate messages alike.

"It still cost you a mindblowing amount of money-- well, mindblowing to most people. I thought you were trying to find ways to do good and lift your spirits without it costing you money?" Toshiya pondered.

"Well, aren't we supposed to offer our best skills and assets to our friends in times of need? And what am I better at than making money..."

Toshiya sighed, "Well, I think you mostly got the message."

[oc-mode]

It had started out as a casual conversation. The topic went from the other's odd obsession with probably-illegal fights to his agility, which Jean thought was uncommon for the average person that age. His companion-that-refused-to-be-named barked out a laugh, and that was how it was revealed that he used to participate in gymnastics.

Rather enthusiastically, in fact, evident by the way his eyes lit up. It was only then did Jean realise how empty his conversation partner's eyes usually were. In his defence, he was usually distracted by how forced the other's ever-present smile was. Jean often wondered whether it made his cheeks hurt.

"---Acrobatics is pretty cool too. I like how elegant it is. You ever seen videos of it online? Can't say I ever cared much for art but that? That's art," the individual-that-insisted-his-name-was-Pancake continued, unable to stop his hands from motioning with clear excitement.

Jean didn't know him too well, but his people-pleaser mentality stubbornly told him that he had to learn about him, if only so that he could effectively get on the latter's good side. Despite his lack of familiarity, however, he could almost swear the permanent, strained smile on 'Pancake''s face was morphing into something more genuine.

But just as soon as it began to form, sadness bled in. A corner of his mouth had twitched, threatening to make the smile fall.

"---Could never get into it though. Regular gymnastics was already pushing it for her," he concluded, the spark in his eyes dulling and his gaze becoming distant.

Jean knew he should have stopped himself, but the question slipped out before he was even aware of it, "'Her'?"

The 30-year-old-guy-with-notable-flexibility turned his head to look at the younger man, his usual fake expression plastered on. It was a face meant to convey something resembling optimistic nihilism, or perhaps something carefree but also selfish and distant. A complete stranger would have thought he was recalling a happy memory, his face deceptively cheerful as he replied, "Oh, my mom. But then, my dad didn't like it very much either. Think they would've preferred if I followed my dad's... Errr... Specialties?"

He motioned a circle with his right hand, the left having slipped back into his pocket. He sounded completely nonchalant, as if he was answering a question that was as normal as being asked for his name.

But then again, he never did answer that particular question, which was why Jean knew that there was more to his reply than he let on. With he-who-does-not-want-to-be-named's commitment issues and apparent allergy to affection, Jean had strong suspicions regarding the former's relationship with his parents. Of course, he had a few other theories, but his reaction towards the topic of parents was almost akin to that of Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka.

It was sad, so Jean genuinely hoped that he was wrong.

In hopes of lightening the mood, perhaps even cheering up the other (if that were even possible), he tried, "That sucks. But if it makes you feel better, I think what you can do is really cool. I think my spine would snap in half if I attempted any of it."

A quirk on the corner of his companion's mouth, amusement clear as he raised a brow, "Say what? You're like- A decade or so younger than me. You're supposed to be looser than I am, old man."

"Wh- 'Old man'?!" Jean exclaimed dramatically, genuinely. Yes, he was trying to make the other guy feel better, but he sure wasn't expecting that jab. Self-conciously, he wondered if he looked older than his age.

God, he hoped not.

The person-who-sometimes-claimed-to-be-named-Potato-McGee cackled, tossing his head back, his hands clapping with childish glee. It was hard to believe he was past his mid-30s, Jean had noted several times before. Ryan once mentioned that 'Potato' was no stranger to having his face changed, although it did not explain the fact that he definitely did not act like a mature adult.

Actually, in hindsight, he behaved much more like someone unwilling to let go of the freedom of childhood.

Or is it more like he's trying to make up for a freedom he didn't have? Jean was unable to stop himself from frowning at the thought.

He could suppose that the plus side to being the 'fat, ugly kid' in school was that he got to understand other kids that were also considered outcasts. He was fortunate to have grown up with, in his opinion, the world's greatest mother- Patient, kind, nurturing. So when he learnt that other kids didn't necessarily have that...

He still remembered how much his heart broke for them.

"Do you suppose there's a gym anywhere in town? Or just somewhere you could give acrobatics another try?" he suddenly asked, never one to be comfortable with silence.

The person beside him quietened, a look of contemplation on his face. "Huh," he muttered more than said, "I never really thought about that."

His gaze was once again distant and anxiety coiled in Jean's gut. A nagging voice in his head insisted he continue the conversation and drag 'McGee' out of his deep thoughts. He could almost hear Edgar's voice somewhere, telling him that he was being ridiculous and that it wasn't his responsibility to make everyone happy.

He told Edgar to shut up.

He wasn't able to act on his self-assigned mission, however, as Mister-Clearly-Not-Okay pushed himself off from his leaning position against the stone wall. With a sigh and a stretch, bones in his hands cracking, he turned to look at Jean once again, eyes tired and forced smile still persistently present.

"It's a good idea," he said as he slid his hands into his pockets, "I'll go take a look around. Heck knows I hate sitting still for too long."

Unsure of how to deal with the sudden goodbye, even though he had been warned by others of the other person's tendency to do so, Jean found himself stuttering. He knew it was silly, but part of him was already screaming that he made everything awkward. He had never been great at dealing with his anxiety though, and often found his mouth moving before he could stop himself. This time was no different.

"Ah! Um! What if there's nothing though?" He cursed himself internally, questioning why he thought that was a good thing to ask. Give a guy something to look forward to and then snatch it away, why not.

But the leaving party simply offered a lopsided grin, "Well, if you hear police sirens, just assume I tried to get a little creative."

And then his back was facing the younger man, the distance growing between them until his silhouette disappeared beyond the horizon.

...Jean wasn't sure if he was supposed to take that last comment seriously.