#is when that character was just so thoroughly understood

[carefulfears]

what are some of your favorite acting moments in the x files?

i may do a proper full list sometime in the future but one thing that i think about every single day of my life is mulder being scripted to cry in the beginning of memento mori and duchovny saying that a lot of actors “try to feel” but people don’t go through life trying to feel, they go through life trying not to feel. “we go through life trying not to cry.” and so he plays it as completely composed, “but struggling,” and it defines an arc.

because if scully tells mulder that she’s got incurable cancer and she is going to die and he says “i refuse to believe that” while crying, it projects to the audience that he already does. why break down over something you don’t think is going to happen? he says “i refuse to believe that” with a straight face, and eventually gets her to acquiesce and admit something that she knows isn’t true, that goes against literally everything in her as a scientist and a doctor and someone whose job is to tell him the truth, and says that maybe they’ll find a cure for her death sentence.

she meets him where he is, and they stay there, and every scene that follows that decision is so haunted by it. they don’t talk about it, they don’t accept it, she’s dying alone and he doesn’t believe.

there’s this really palpable and intense repression that i’ve written about in the past, that comes with the fact that they’re both lying. he does know what’s happening. he is completely capable of understanding. she does not think that he can save her. they both go through it alone, because of that initial refusal, and it doesn’t work if he reacts to that diagnosis with tears.

[chirpsythismorning]

Nick himself said that his knowledge is confined to the leaks prior to s4, the s4 scripts from his verified source (likely within a source) and basic knowledge most fans paying attention have been able to formulate about s5 based on what has been released officially/unofficially, trends from Netflix and common sense.

He is saying based on all that, he doesn’t think byler is happening. 

And if we think back to what the Duffers themselves shared in the 4x09 script, it literally implies Mike’s monologue worked, and that it was entirely genuine. This tells me that the script the Duffers released for Emmy consideration, is not that far off from what Nick saw for himself. 

I think it’s likely Nick got something that the average below the line worker might manage to get their hands on if they tried hard enough. A copy they know they have to water-down to prevent these very situations from happening.

Unfortunately for the Duffers, it just so happens that they didn’t scrub their watered down copy hard enough.

Unfortunately for Nick, he admitted that it’s possible and even likely that the production will release things that aren’t exactly accurate with the sole purpose to lead fans sleuthing astray, without realizing it may have ironically already happened to him. 

[usertoxicyaoi]

Kouhei: Mizuki may not be able to be honest with himself with regards to Yoh, but if it were me, if I did the things he did, I think Yoh would have caught on. Mizuki may not say much, but I think he shows how much he likes Yoh through his actions. I tend to say exactly how I feel. In Mizuki's case, he doesn't say what he thinks. It's almost like he's choosing not to say it, that's his thing. I can't just say that he should say what he feels in words no matter what. I think he should keep being himself, and Yoh's the one who should be paying more attention.

Atsuki: You're wrong. I'm sure Mizuki hasn't realized that Yoh doesn't realize. I'm saying, Mizuki doesn't realize that Yoh doesn't know how he feels. I think that's part of the reason why he acts the way he does. I think there's a chance, at least. Yoh should be thankful for what he has going on. Mizuki is taking care of his housing and food. Mizuki comes home right away without going to after work dinners or anything. He gets paid a lot! He's got a very good environment to work with. On top of that, I think he could help Mizuki out more in different ways - Sorry, I misspoke! He could help Mizuki out by being more straightforward with his feelings, without just keeping it all in.

[delulustateofmind]

"It's All Your Fault, Isn't It?"

Yan! SatoSugu x Reader Sum: You've had the chances, why didn't you take them. In the end you'll always just lose the purest of love. Last part of: Can my friend join?, This is Love, Right? ** Can be read as standalone fics** TW: Yandere Behaviors (Obsession, Manipulation, etc), Death of Child Character, Blood, Toxic Relationship Dynamics, Depression, Dubcon, Lactation, Pregnancy themes, SatoSugu, Angst No Comfort. MDNI WC: 7.7k

A/n: I got supperrr stuck in the loop of editing, so I am just gonna post it, I feel like rereading it after the tenth time. I almost just pressed delete lol. :) enjoy!

It’s all your fault, isn’t it?

You did this to yourself. You should have walked away when the chance was there, when the door was still open, even just a crack. You should have screamed, fought, run—anything to reclaim a sliver of your freedom.

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

Was it the security? The comfort of knowing you’d never struggle to pay bills or scramble to find work? Was it the way Satoru promised, over and over, that you’d never go unloved, never feel the ache of loneliness again?

Or was it something darker? Something you couldn’t quite admit to yourself?

You told yourself it was love. You told yourself you were lucky. How many women could say they had someone who’d give them the world? Someone who, with a flick of his wrist, could bend the rules of life itself to ensure you had everything you could ever need?

So, you stayed.

Even before Suguru became part of the equation, you stayed. You even stayed when Satoru would come home in the dead of night, his footsteps a faint echo through the silent halls before his hands found you. You’d stir from your sleep as he pulled your panties down with barely a word, his breath hot against your neck.

There was no tenderness in those moments, no love—just need. A raw, consuming need he claimed you had to fulfill. And you let him, didn’t you? You let him push inside you with barely any preparation, your body yielding to him because he knew it so well.

Satoru knew the places that made you crumble, the spots where your body quivered, the way your breath hitched when his fingers grazed just right. He knew you better than you knew yourself, didn’t he? His movements were deliberate, practiced, the wet noises filling the room a cruel testament to how thoroughly he’d mastered you.

You’d given him permission. He reminded you of that often, didn’t he? That you’d said yes. That he worked so hard, carried so much, and that this was his right. That he had needs only you could meet.

And you understood. You always understood.

After all, he was the strongest, wasn’t he?

So, you let him use you.

Like a doll.

You’d lay there, staring at the ceiling, as he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his loud groans of release cutting through the stillness. A pathetic little whimper followed, muffled by the darkness, as he spilled himself inside you. And then, as if the act meant nothing, he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, murmured something soft and indistinct, and rolled over to his side of the bed.

You stayed there, silent and unmoving, the lingering heat of his body beside you doing nothing to warm the cold ache between your thighs.

That’s when the thought would creep in. A sick, unwelcome whisper:

You didn’t even climax.

You hated yourself for thinking it. For letting it matter.

But still, you stayed.

Was it fear that held you there? Or was it hope—a desperate, foolish hope that one-day things would change? That one day, every day would feel like those rare, sweet moments when he pressed teasing kisses against your lips before dragging you out to get sweets. That he’d touch you with love, with the tenderness he so effortlessly showed to others—when he wasn’t breaking them apart piece by piece with that same teasing grin.

And now, looking back, you can’t decide what’s worse: that you didn’t leave when you had the chance…

Or that part of you still doesn’t want to.

You stayed, even when the small arguments started. The little spats about wanting him to open up more, to share pieces of his life with you, the pieces he always kept hidden. Perhaps it was selfish—maybe even naïve—but you wanted to know why he loved you.

Really, truly loved you.

But you never asked.

You saved that question, tucking it away deep into your heart, right alongside the cracks that had already started forming. You told yourself it wasn’t the right time. That maybe he wasn’t ready. That you shouldn’t push. Instead, you focused on the good times, clinging to them like lifelines.

Because they were good, weren’t they?

What other guy would give you the world like Satoru did? What other guy would bring you flowers every week—a different color each time, sometimes traditional, sometimes exotic, but always beautiful? What other guy would shower you with affection so openly, so shamelessly, pressing kisses to your skin, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded?

Satoru had told you he loved you. And maybe he did—in a way that wasn’t entirely built on desire, the need to keep you within his grasp, or the insatiable craving to hold you close for the rest of your days.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

That’s why you stayed.

Even when Suguru came into the picture—when those dark, calculating eyes lingered on you just a moment too long when his quiet, honeyed words wove themselves into your life like threads binding you to a tapestry you couldn’t escape—you stayed.

You had the choice, didn’t you? You could have said no. You could have walked away.

But you didn’t.

You stayed, and now there was no one else to blame.

So, truly, it is all your fault.

However, your heart’s at fault too, isn’t it? For leaning into Suguru's touches, craving his warmth, even when you knew deep down that he was a cruel and awful man. A man who veiled his darkness in sweetness, wrapping it in gentle words and tender caresses that made you doubt your own truths. He was a master of contradiction—soft hands and sharp edges, honeyed lies hiding an iron grip.

You could have left.

You could have said no to the whole relationship, shut the door before it ever opened.

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

You told yourself that maybe this was the best you could hope for, the best kind of love someone like you deserved. Because it was love, wasn’t it? They loved you. Even if it was conditional. Even if you had to give and give, piece after piece of yourself, just to receive a sliver in return.

Love comes in many forms, after all. And this was love.

Or so you continued to convince yourself.

This is what you deserve. That you should have listened to your gut, back when every touch felt too heavy, too lingering, too much. Back when their words seemed to wrap around you like chains instead of promises. You should have left before the walls around you closed in. Before you realized that leaving wasn’t just difficult—it was dangerous.

You had your chances, didn’t you? If only you’d taken them.

You knew Satoru would tear the world apart to find you if you ran. He’d find you, no matter where you went, no matter how far. But… would he really?

If you’d left early enough, maybe it wouldn’t have been like this. Maybe it would have been nothing more than a bad breakup, a lesson in heartbreak you’d recover from in time. Maybe, if you’d left after Suguru’s return, Satoru would have leaned on him instead of spiraling further into obsession.

But you didn’t leave.

You stayed.

Such a stupid, stupid girl.

And yet…

It was never just about them, was it?

Because you craved love too, just as much as they did. You wanted it desperately—so much that you ignored the warnings in your heart, the creeping dread in your chest. You wanted to be loved, to feel wanted, to belong to someone in a way that was absolute, undeniable, and unshakable.

And that’s exactly what they gave you.

But love like that—it came with a cost.

And you paid for it in silence, in submission, in the pieces of yourself you’d never get back.

So now, here you are, locked away in the beautiful Gojo estate. A place so grand it should feel like a palace, yet it suffocates you like a gilded cage. Every corner gleams with wealth and power, every surface reflects the life you’re supposed to be grateful for.

The maids don’t meet your eyes.

To them, you aren’t Satoru’s wife. You aren’t a partner. You’re something lesser.

A pet.

Because you aren’t the one ensuring the estate runs smoothly while Satoru is away on his endless missions. That responsibility doesn’t fall to you—it belongs to Suguru, doesn’t it? He’s the one in charge. He holds the reins, commanding the household with a quiet authority that leaves no room for question.

And you?

You remain.

The pet. The wife. The child-bearer.

Barefoot and pregnant, with a swollen belly to show for it, you shuffle through the estate like a ghost. Your body aches, weighed down not just by the child growing inside you, but by the chains of a life you can’t escape.

Suguru sees to it that the estate runs like a well-oiled machine, all while maintaining his title as the second strongest. His responsibilities never seem to tire him, never seem to dull his devotion. If anything, they only make him more overbearing.

He adores pampering you.

He drapes you in the softest blankets, ensuring you’re always warm. He dresses you in the finest clothes, silks and satins that cling to your growing belly, showcasing the proof of your usefulness. He loves the way your independence has been stripped away, loves the way you’ve been forced to rely on him for everything.

When did you become so dependent?

When did you start accepting his affection like a loyal dog, start leaning into the way his rough, calloused hands would trace the curve of your stomach? When did you start craving the way he’d gaze up at you with that lovesick smile, his voice low and honeyed as he murmured sweet words about the future?

“I hope the baby looks like Satoru,” he’d say, his eyes dark and soft as they met yours. Then, after a pause, “I hope it’s a girl.”

The words always made your chest tighten, made your stomach twist.

You know he must miss the twins.

It’s not just the weight of their absence—it’s the way he’s filled that void with this child, this unborn life. You can see it in the way he touches you, the way he watches you. He’s more excited about this pregnancy than you are.

And that’s the cruelest part, isn’t it?

Because to him, this isn’t just a child. It’s a legacy. A purpose.

To you?

It’s another chain.

And yet, you hate how loving he is. How he’s always there to hold your hair back when you’re bent over, heaving in the dead of night. How his large, warm hands find every knot in your aching limbs, massaging away the tension with a tenderness that makes your heartache.

It’s cruel, how gentle he can be. How he disarms you with care just when you think you might muster the strength to fight back.

There’s a constant mantra in your mind, a desperate hope that the baby won’t resemble either of them.

Because the thought of seeing their features reflected back at you stirs a fear too heavy to bear.

The thought of seeing their features reflected in those tiny, innocent eyes is terrifying. It brings the fear that every decision will feel like a mistake, that allowing any of this to happen will become an unbearable regret.

You tell yourself you hope, but it’s hard to ignore the possibility, isn’t it?

What if the child inherits Satoru’s piercing blue eyes—so crystalline they seem otherworldly, glowing even in the faintest light? The same eyes that burn and freeze you all at once, stripping you bare and exposing every secret, every hidden part of you.

Even his grin—boyish, sharp, too wide—lingers in your mind. A grin that could charm and cut in the same breath, leaving you unsure whether to lean closer or step away. What if that grin appeared on a smaller, softer face, just as devastating?

Or worse—what if the baby inherits Suguru’s gaze?

Those dark, soulful eyes that pull you in like the tide, gentle at first glance, inviting even, but hiding endless, churning storms beneath their surface. Eyes that promise escape is not an option. Unlike Satoru’s, Suguru’s smiles are quieter, softer—but no less dangerous. His smiles feel deliberate, like they’re slipping past every defense you didn’t even know you had.

Would the baby inherit Satoru’s arrogance? Suguru’s patience?

Or worse—would the child inherit both of their possessiveness?

The thought makes your skin crawl.

But the fear doesn’t end there.

Because it’s not just about the baby, is it?

It’s about you.

About how they’ve already carved themselves so deeply into your soul that you can’t even imagine a world without them. You hate that truth. Hate the way it festers inside you, a bitter root growing into every part of you.

You hate Satoru’s smirk when he strides into the estate after a mission, brushing off the exhaustion and blood as if it’s nothing. How he towers over you, his white hair catching the light in a way that seems almost ethereal, his fingers tilting your chin up with a mock tenderness that makes your breath catch.

You hate how he always knows exactly what to say to make you crumble, his voice dipping into that teasing lilt that makes your heart flutter in spite of yourself.

And Suguru—oh, you hate how he lingers. How his touch lingers. His hands are always warm, always deliberate, tracing paths across your skin as if he’s claiming you, piece by piece. Every stroke of his fingers feels like a silent reminder that you are his, that you belong to him. His voice, low and soothing, is a cruel contradiction—a balm against your nerves, even when his words are laced with quiet threats you pretend not to hear.

You hate them.

You hate the way they consume you, the way they’ve woven themselves into the fabric of your life so tightly that even your thoughts feel tangled in their presence.

And yet, as you sit in the vast, lonely expanse of the Gojo estate, the weight of your belly grounding you, you know the truth.

You’re not just afraid of the baby looking like them.

You’re afraid of what that child will mean.

Because if they look like Satoru, with his arrogance, his fire, his brilliance, how will you deny the pride swelling in your chest? How will you stop yourself from feeling that flicker of awe, even when you know you shouldn’t?

And if they look like Suguru, with his quiet strength, his steadfast devotion, how will you deny the love? How will you stop yourself from melting beneath those familiar eyes, from imagining them crinkling with joy or softening with affection?

You can’t.

And that's horrifying.

You won’t be able to ignore how Satoru has changed, how he’s become softer, more attentive in ways that make it harder to hold onto your resentment. How he lingers closer to you than he ever did before, as if the mere distance between you might undo something fragile inside him.

How he’s started resting his head in your lap as you sit together in the serene gardens, his white hair catching the sunlight like spun silk, almost ethereal. His long lashes cast soft shadows over his cheeks as his half-lidded gaze flickers up to meet yours, brimming with a tenderness you don’t know how to process.

He murmurs lazy words of affection, his voice low and warm, the kind of sweetness that drips like honey and sticks to your skin. His fingers trace absentminded circles on your thighs, soft patterns that feel far too intimate, far too easy.

And you hate how much you crave it.

You hate the way his presence soothes something raw inside you, even when you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

You hate how he’s begun helping you with the small, intimate things you wish you could keep to yourself. Like the unbearable ache in your swollen breasts, the pressure building so much it leaves you trembling, whimpering in pain. How he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even ask.

The way Satoru's lips wrap around you with loud, deliberate suckles, the sound echoing in the quiet as he eases the pressure with almost clinical precision. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t falter. His hands grip your hips to steady you, his thumbs pressing reassuring circles into your skin.

You hate the sound.

You hate the warmth of his breath against your skin, the way it prickles, a constant reminder of just how close he always is—too close.

When he’s finished, he pulls back with a satisfied hum, his lips brushing against your collarbone with a lingering kiss. His voice low, almost tender, as he murmurs, “I love this version of you.”

The words settle into you like stones. His lips, still soft from the milk, press against yours, and the faint sweetness lingers, almost cloying. Satoru murmurs more words—gentle, saccharine things that would feel kind if not for the way his hands start to roam as they wrap around your waist.

“How nurturing you’ve become,” he whispers, his tone carrying a dangerous sort of reverence.

That’s what he loves. That’s what he says.

And the way he looks at you when he says it—those bright blue eyes glinting with something dark, something that sinks its claws into you—makes your skin crawl. Because you know exactly what he means.

He doesn’t love the nurturing in and of itself. He loves how it ties you to him. How it binds you to this role, this life, this carefully constructed world where you are his and only his.

The version of you he loves is one that has no room for defiance, no space for resistance—only the space to give, to sacrifice, to bend under the weight of his love.

And that’s what makes it so much worse.

Because even as you hate it, even as your stomach churns and your skin prickles, there’s a part of you that leans into his touch. A part of you that longs for the softness, for the fleeting moments when it feels like love instead of control.

And you hate yourself for that, too

Because you know how it goes. You’ve seen it now. Lived it.

How one pregnancy ends and another begins.

The cycle repeated itself after your firstborn, didn’t it? Barely a year after you gave birth, they had you pregnant again. You didn’t even have time to recover, to heal, before they decided it was time for another.

But they love you, don’t they?

Satoru’s affection is impossible to miss—the way he grins at you, almost childlike, as he cups your face with hands that can destroy worlds but hold you as though you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. How he showers you with gifts, flowers in every shade imaginable, rare treasures that sparkle as brightly as his endless energy.

How many times has he told you, in his low, teasing voice, “You’re my world, you know that? I could do anything, have anything—but none of it would matter without you.”

It sounds like love, doesn’t it?

And Suguru—Suguru loves you too, in his quiet, steady way. You see it in the way he watches you, his dark eyes softening when you enter the room, the weight of his gaze feels suffocating. He’s the one who stays calm when you cry, wrapping his arms around you and murmuring, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

And you believe him, don’t you?

They love you. That’s why they insist on keeping you close. Why Satoru kisses your forehead every morning, why Suguru runs his fingers through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings you’re too exhausted to resist. That’s why they ensure you’re taken care of, why they never let you lift a finger, why they promise they’ll always protect you.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Satoru once said, kissing your swollen belly as he grinned up at you. “Just stay here with us. That’s all we need.”

“It’s not just for us,” Suguru added, his voice softer, more measured. “It’s for you too. We want you to feel safe. Loved.”

And in moments like that, when the weight of their words settles in your chest like a lullaby, you almost believe them.

You tell yourself that no one else would love you this much. No one else would care for you so completely, so unconditionally—because this is love, isn’t it?

The maids barely acknowledged your struggles. Their gazes were cold, dismissive, even as your body ached and your mind screamed for reprieve. They would gently pry your child from your arms with hushed whispers.

“You need more rest,” they’d say, their voices soft but unyielding. “We’ll take care of them. Don’t worry.”

And what could you do? You’d watch helplessly as they carried your baby away, leaving you empty-handed, empty-hearted. As if you were nothing more than a vessel, an incubator meant to bear and birth heirs for the Gojo family.

Your firstborn was a boy.

A son.

An heir.

He looked just like Satoru.

Those piercing blue eyes stared back at you from his tiny, cherubic face, wide and curious, already holding a glint of brilliance and confidence you couldn’t deny. His hair was the same stark white, impossibly soft beneath your trembling fingers as you brushed it back, memorizing every perfect strand. Even the little smirk he gave in his sleep mirrored Satoru’s—a playful, almost mocking curl at the corners of his mouth that made your heart ache with emotions you couldn’t unravel.

You loved him.

You hated that you loved him.

And when Suguru would cradle him in his arms, his dark eyes soft and filled with a devotion that seemed to crack the carefully constructed walls around your heart, you couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in your chest. He’d whisper promises to the child—vows of protection and guidance.

When Satoru would swoop in, effortlessly spinning the boy around with an energy that filled the room with light, the sound of your son’s uncontrollable laughter echoing like music, that warmth would return. It would swell in your chest, suffocating and undeniable, a cruel reminder of the chains you wore willingly and unwillingly all at once.

This is what they wanted, wasn’t it?

This is what they’d planned all along.

And now, with another child growing inside you, you realize something that terrifies you more than anything else.

You’re not sure if you stayed because you had no choice.

Or because you wanted to.

Again, it’s all your fault.

For trying to run, again.

For thinking, just for a moment, that you could escape them.

You were far too pregnant. Belly too far swollen, body heavy and slow, every step a reminder of how deeply tethered you were to this vast estate. But the thought wouldn’t leave your mind. The desperate hope of freedom burned too brightly, too wildly, even as your body betrayed you.

Even as you were dragged back to that sickening place, back to the people that you convinced yourself—desperately, foolishly—that this was love.

You’d screamed at Suguru, the words spilling out like a torrent you couldn’t stop. You told him the child was yours too, that you had the right to hold them, to sleep in the same room, to be more than a vessel. Your voice cracked, raw with frustration and desperation, as you hurled your defiance at him.

You remember the way his gaze darkened.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t snap. That wasn’t Suguru’s way.

Instead, he stepped closer, his movements slow, calculated, as though he were approaching a frightened animal. He tilted his head, his expression calm, disarming, the warmth in his dark eyes a stark contrast to the undercurrent of control they held.

“You’re upset,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaking your face. “And that’s okay. You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?”

The quiet warmth in Suguru's voice made it hard to breathe, made the frustration clawing at your throat turn to something else—something like shame.

“You need to calm down,” he continued, a warm calloused hand slipping down to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I don’t want you to hurt us.”

His words lingered, heavy with meaning, as he pulled you closer, his forehead pressing against yours.

“I know it’s hard,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “But I love you. We love you. Everything we do—everything I do—is for you.”

You wanted to push him away, to scream that it wasn’t love, that this wasn’t love. But as his arms wrapped around you, strong and unyielding, pulling you into his embrace as though Suguru could shield you from the very world they had trapped you in.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, soft lips brushing your temple. “Don’t you see that? You don’t need to run. You don’t need to be afraid. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

A voice that was so tender, so achingly sincere, that it almost broke you. Suguru's words were enough to extinguish the fire of defiance burning in your chest, to leave you standing there, trembling and helpless in his arms.

The maids saw it, didn’t they? They whispered about you, their quiet voices slipping through the halls like ghosts. They called you ungrateful. Sick. They said you didn’t understand how fortunate you were.

“You should be enjoying this,” they murmured, their words laced with thinly veiled judgment. “No responsibilities, no struggles. A carefree life. Everything is taken care of for you. What more could you want?”

What more could you want?

No choices.

That’s what they meant, wasn’t it? No choices. No freedom. No you.

Was something wrong with you? Maybe.

Maybe there was something wrong with wanting more. For wanting to feel like a person again, instead of a vessel, a doll, a beautifully dressed incubator meant to carry their legacy.

It really is all your fault, isn’t it?

Because when labor came, it dragged you into hell.

Thirty-three grueling hours. Each contraction ripped through your body like a punishment, an unrelenting reminder of every fleeting thought of rebellion, of every moment you dared to imagine a life beyond them.

The emergency c-section was chaos—a flurry of hands, sterile lights, and voices rising above the incessant ringing in your ears. You were losing too much blood. Fever scorched your skin, your body trembling as the edges of the world blurred, your thoughts slipping between consciousness and darkness.

You couldn’t make sense of what was happening. You weren’t even sure whose tears streaked your skin as they fell—were they yours? Satoru’s? Suguru’s?

You didn’t know.

You didn’t know what happened after that.

All you remember are the words.

Suguru’s voice, low and steady, cutting through the haze. He leaned close, his hand resting on your clammy cheek with an almost painful tenderness. His dark eyes bore into yours, soft yet heavy with something that made your stomach twist.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he whispered. His tone was calm, soothing even, but the edge beneath it was sharp enough to draw blood. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself. You should’ve listened.”

And for a long time, you didn’t have the strength to argue.

The days that followed blurred together. Feeling like a ghost in your body, too weak to move, too tired to speak. Satoru and Suguru hovered, their gazes flickering between concern and something you couldn't quite place. The maids continued to whisper on with their rumors, their eyes darting to you with pity or disdain, as though you’d done this to yourself.

In their eyes, you were lucky.

Lucky to have survived. Lucky to have them.

And lucky, in their eyes, to not have another pregnancy until your first two boys turned five.

Five years of peace. Or something that resembled it.

Five years of watching your sons grow, of hearing their first words, of feeling their small, warm arms wrap around you as they giggled into into your neck. Five years where it was almost believable that this was normal, where you could almost convince yourself this was love.

Because it did feel like love, didn’t it?

Until the day you overheard Suguru speaking to them.

His voice was hushed, but not hushed enough.

“Mommy is sick,” he said, tone calm and soothing like he was explaining a simple fact of life. “Sometimes she says things she doesn’t mean. Sometimes she gets confused. But that’s okay. We love her, don’t we?”

A pang sent through your chest, breath catching as you froze in the hallway. Those cruel words lies carved like knives, each one slicing deeper than the last.

He was planting seeds, wasn’t he?

Teaching them to see you the way he wanted them to see you. Fragile. Dependent. Broken.

However with fists clenched, nails pressing into palms with a sting sharp enough to ground the swirling emotions within. The urge to scream hovered at the edge, to cry and storm into the room, demanding explanations with the desperation of a cornered animal. Words burned on the tip of the tongue—protests that it wasn’t true, that sickness and confusion weren’t the chains binding this existence.

But what would they believe?

Suguru’s steady, patient voice, rich and even, always laced with quiet authority? The father whose dark eyes always seemed to understand everything, who carried himself with calm, unshakable control, even when his smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes?

Or you?

The mother who had tried to run, who had collapsed and bled and screamed, who had been scolded for her defiance. The one they saw as weak, frail, and ungrateful.

You wanted to run again. The thought burned in the back of your mind, relentless and wild.

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

Because, in the end, what choice did you really have?

But by the time your third child—a sweet boy who looked like a perfect blend of you and Suguru—turned three, the illusion of peace began to crack.

Suguru was already leaning close, his voice soft and coaxing as he murmured into your ear, “I think it’s time we try for a girl.”

Satoru, of course, was on board almost immediately.

After all, your third child was different. A nonsorcerer, just like you, showing none of the abilities your first two boys possessed. Those two had cried in the dead of night, their small voices trembling with fear as they described the horrors only they could see—things you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

But that wasn’t why your husbands looked at Kiyoshi with quiet disapproval.

It wasn’t his lack of cursed energy that made them see him as an anomaly.

It was his heart.

From the moment Kiyoshi was placed in your arms, red-faced and wailing, he clung to you with a desperation that never faded. He didn’t want the maids to hold him, didn’t toddle after Suguru’s composed steps or reached for Satoru’s strong arms. He wanted you. Always you.

He was a mama’s boy through and through, and that was love.

A love so pure it felt like a lifeline in the suffocating world you’d been forced into.

While you loved your first two boys deeply—how could you not?—there was always a distance there, a reflection of the walls your husbands had built around you. The first two cuddled into your lap, their small hands clutching yours as they whispered things that broke you.

“Mommy, we want you to get better.” “We don’t like it when you yell at Daddy to let you leave.”

They were too young to understand, too innocent to see the chains tightening around you.

But Kiyoshi understood, in his own way. Even as a toddler, he refused to leave your side, refused to let the maids or his fathers pull him from your arms. He was always on your hip, his little hand clutching your clothes, his head resting against your chest.

“Kiyoshi,” Satoru had said once, his tone laced with false amusement, “means ‘pure sadness.’ Don’t you think that’s fitting?”

He smiled as if it were a joke, but you could hear the bitterness beneath it.

And maybe it was fitting.

Because Kiyoshi only stopped wailing when he was in your arms, as if he already knew the world outside of you was too cruel, too cold.

By the time he turned three, Kiyoshi would toddle after you in the gardens, small, sturdy legs working hard to keep up. His face—a blend of Suguru’s gentleness and your warmth—would brighten with the purest smile. When his eyes crinkled at the corners, just like yours, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell.

“Look, Mommy!” he’d say, holding up a flower he’d plucked from the garden, his tiny fingers dirt-stained and clumsy. “For you!”

You’d crouch down, brushing his dark hair back as you took the flower, your voice soft and tender in a way you hadn’t heard in years.

“Thank you, my sweet boy.”

And for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you.

Like you could breathe again.

But you knew better.

As the sound of approaching footsteps always shattered moments like these. Heavy and far too familiar. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Suguru.

His softspoken voice broke the fragile silence, calm and even, as always. “Kiyoshi,” he said, warm and affectionate, though laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’ve been keeping your mother all to yourself again, haven’t you?”

Kiyoshi stiffened at your side, the little hand tightening its grip on your kimono as he glanced nervously toward Suguru.

Suguru stepped closer and crouched down to Kiyoshi’s level, dark eyes softening as they met his son’s. “Come here, son,” he murmured, holding out a hand. His tone was gentle, coaxing, but there was an unspoken expectation beneath it. “Let Daddy hold you for a little while. I’ve missed you.”

But Kiyoshi didn’t move. His small fingers curled tighter into the fabric of your kimono, his face pressing into your side as though trying to make himself small, invisible.

Suguru’s gaze flicked to you, lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So shy,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of amused affection. “But you don’t have to be, Kiyoshi. Daddy just wants to hold you. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart clench, torn between the instinct to shield him and the weight of Suguru’s presence. The tenderness in his tone, in the way his hand remained outstretched, made it all the harder to breathe.

“Kiyoshi,” Suguru said again, his voice dipping into a firmer edge, calm but unyielding. “Come.”

Reluctantly, your little boy let go of you, his steps slow and hesitant as he moved toward his father. Suguru’s smile widened, soft and reassuring, as he scooped Kiyoshi up effortlessly, cradling him with a gentleness that felt too deliberate, too controlled.

“There’s my good boy,” he murmured, brushing Kiyoshi’s hair back with careful fingers. His touch lingered, as though committing the texture to memory. “You love your mommy very much, don’t you?”

Kiyoshi nodded silently, his small face burying itself in Suguru’s shoulder.

Suguru’s gaze lifted to meet yours, a gentle smile, his tone almost playful. “You’ve spoiled him,” he said, a note of amusement threading through his words. “He’s too attached.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to say something, but the words caught in your throat.

What could you say?

That you were the only warmth in a world that terrified him? That his attachment wasn’t a flaw, but a desperate grasp at something safe?

Satoru appeared not long after, his presence impossible to ignore as he strolled into the garden, hands in his pockets and a grin that seemed too bright for the moment. His eyes, however, betrayed something softer—something that lingered only when they landed on you.

“Kiyoshi giving you trouble again?” Satoru's voice came out light, tinged with curiosity.

“No trouble,” Suguru replied smoothly, a hand still resting on Kiyoshi’s small back. “Just a little too fond of his mother.”

Satoru chuckled, shaking his head as he moved closer. His cerulean gaze flicked briefly to Kiyoshi before returning to you, that playful grin softening as he moved to brush a kiss against your temple. “Well, can you blame him?” he murmured, his voice low, meant only for you. “You’re hard not to love.”

The warmth of his affection made your heart twist, and your stomach flutter. For a moment, it was easy to forget the way his words often carried double meanings, easy to believe he was simply being sweet.

He straightened, turning his attention back to Suguru with a teasing smile. “But we’ll fix that soon enough, won’t we?”

They didn’t mean to hurt him, you told yourself. They wouldn’t.

But you knew better.

Because Kiyoshi was different. He didn’t fit into their world the way your first two boys did. And in their eyes, difference was something to be controlled.

For now, they let him cling to you. They let him toddle after you in the garden, offering flowers and dirt-streaked smiles that made your heart ache with both love and dread. For now, they allowed him to stay close, to hold onto the warmth you gave him, to believe he was safe in your arms.

But you knew it was only a matter of time.

Because your sons didn’t belong to you. Not really. They never had.

And no matter how much you wanted to shield Kiyoshi, no matter how fiercely you loved him, you knew one simple, devastating truth:

They’d let you have this for now.

But they would take him, too.

Because, after all, it’s all your fault.

For fleeing in the middle of the night.

The day was supposed to be perfect—a rare moment where Satoru and Suguru had taken the older two boys to the school, their voices filled with excitement as they promised to teach them more about the world they were destined to inherit. Your sweet boys kissed you goodbye with a tenderness that felt almost cruel, leaving you behind with Kiyoshi in the quiet, sprawling estate.

You had been on your best behavior. Smiling more, laughing when Satoru teased you, letting Suguru hold you a little longer than usual. You’d made them believe you were finally settling, finally accepting your role in their carefully constructed world.

And it worked.

So when the sun set and the house fell silent, you made your move.

You bundled Kiyoshi up in the softest blanket you could find, the small body warm and sleepy against your chest. He stirred only slightly as you slipped out of the estate, his tiny hands clutching onto your clothes.

He didn’t cry.

He didn’t make a sound.

It was as if he understood. As if even at three years old, he knew that silence was the only thing keeping you safe.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his soft breaths warm against your skin, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes.

The highway stretched out before you, an endless black ribbon under the faint glow of the moon. The lights of the city sparkled in the distance, a beacon of hope, a promise of sanctuary.

You walked for miles, the cold night air biting at your skin, legs aching with every step. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not with the faint echoes of paranoia whispering at the back of your mind.

Were they already looking for you? Did Satoru sense you slipping away even from miles away? Did Suguru wake in the middle of the night with the suffocating weight of intuition, already calling for their forces to track you down?

You didn’t know.

And you didn’t care.

The city limits were closer now, the glow of neon lights growing brighter, sharper. The faint hum of life and sound buzzed in the distance.

Kiyoshi stirred in your arms, his little head lifting just enough to peek out at the world around him. His dark eyes, so much like Suguru’s but filled with an innocence his father could no longer claim, glanced up at you with quiet curiosity.

“Mommy,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft hum of the wind.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, your tears wetting his soft hair. “We’re almost there, my sweet boy,” you murmured, your voice trembling under the weight of hope and fear. “Just a little farther.”

Sanctuary was so close you could taste it.

But it’s all your fault, isn’t it?

Born a nonsorcerer.

Blind to the horrors that lurk unseen. Powerless to fight them off. Too weak to keep that sweet little boy safe.

You always imagined curses as massive, grotesque creatures—monsters so obvious that the very air would change in their presence. That the world would stop, that everything would smell of death and decay as they loomed closer.

But when a curse appears, nothing changes.

There’s no warning. No shift in the wind.

The only thing you feel is the sudden weight of your child going limp in your arms.

And then the blood.

And then the blood.

It coats the ground—dark and endless, pooling around your knees and seeping into the cracks of the earth. Sticky and warm, it clings to trembling hands, staining your kimono, your skin, your very soul.

You can’t move. Can’t breathe.

Your little boy—your Kiyoshi—lies limp in your arms, his small body growing colder with every agonizing second. Tiny fingers, once so eager to cling to you, now dangle lifelessly. His dark lashes rest softly against pale cheeks, unmoving.

He looks like he’s sleeping.

You tell yourself that, over and over, as if saying it enough times will somehow make it true. Shaking hands brush back his dark hair, trembling as you whisper his name. Softly at first, then louder, your voice splintering with every syllable.

“Kiyoshi… wake up, baby. Please.”

But nothing changes.

The world around you feels wrong—too quiet, too still. The city lights in the distance mock you, their glow a cruel reminder of the sanctuary you’d been so close to reaching. You’d promised him, hadn’t you? Promised that everything would be okay. That you’d make it there. That you’d keep him safe.

You lied.

“Kiyoshi,” you choke out again, pressing a desperate kiss to his cooling forehead. Hot tears streak down your face, wetting his soft hair as you clutch him tighter, as though you could anchor him to you—keep him here, with you.

A wail tears through the night, raw and broken, shattering the oppressive silence. The sound is unrecognizable, guttural and full of despair. It takes a moment before you realize it’s coming from you.

The blood stains everything—your hands, your clothes, the ground—but it’s the loss of his warmth that destroys you.

How did this happen?

Your mind races, replaying the moments in broken fragments. You’d been walking, your legs aching, his small body cradled against your chest. He’d been so quiet, so trusting, his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You were almost there.

Then the air shifted—just slightly—a subtle wrongness you hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

You didn’t see it.

You didn’t even know it was there until his body jerked in your arms, a sharp, unnatural movement that stole his breath—and yours.

And then he went limp.

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.

You rock him back and forth, tears falling freely, your voice hoarse as you beg him to wake up. Leaning to press your cheek against his, murmuring his name over and over, as if the sound alone could bring him back.

Because you failed him.

Because this is your fault.

Suguru’s arms wrap around you, their weight unbearable. His warmth presses against the chill of the night, suffocating in a way that makes the air harder to pull into your lungs. He cradles you like something precious, something fragile—like he cares, even as his words twist the knife deeper into your chest.

“We’ll take care of this, just like always,” he says, his voice soft, almost gentle. His lips brush against your hair, lingering, and the tenderness in the gesture makes your skin crawl. “You just need to stop fighting us. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Satoru stood frozen, head bowed, white hair catching the faint glow of the city lights. Kiyoshi’s lifeless body was pressed tightly against him, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he held him close. For a moment, you thought you saw something crack in his expression—something raw, something human.

But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

When he finally turned his gaze to you, his blue eyes were as hollow as you’d ever seen them. “You shouldn’t have done this,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual teasing lilt. “Why couldn’t you just stay?”

The question stabbed deeper than you thought possible, the shame and guilt coursing through you like poison.

Why couldn’t you just stay?

The image of Kiyoshi’s bright smile flashed, his tiny hands offering you flowers from the garden, his laugh ringing out like music in the suffocating silence of the estate. He’d been your light, your tether to something good.

And now he was gone.

Because of you.

You sagged further into Suguru’s hold, the fight draining out of you entirely. The tears wouldn’t stop, falling silently now, soaking into the front of Suguru’s shirt as he held you tighter.

“There, there,” he murmured, his hand stroking your hair in slow, deliberate motions. “That’s better. You don’t have to fight anymore. We’ll make it right.”

But there was no right in this.

The car waited nearby, its door open like an unspoken command. Suguru’s grip on you didn’t waver as he began guiding you toward it, his movements gentle but unrelenting. Satoru followed behind, cradling Kiyoshi’s small form like he was made of glass.

Your legs moved on instinct, numb and heavy, the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.

The city lights grew fainter as the car doors shut behind you, locking you away from the world you’d been so close to reaching.

You told yourself you’d tried. That you’d done everything you could.

But deep down, you knew.

You’d never escape them.

And as Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, as Satoru’s empty gaze lingered on the horizon, you realized something that hollowed you out completely.

It wasn’t just that you had nothing left.

It was that you no longer cared to try.

It really was all your fault.

[theanimeroom]

BOMBSHELL | TEASER

synopsis: five men, five women, one villa. with hearts and a $50,000 cash prize on the line, who will win the race to find love?

warnings: love island au featuring: tokyo revengers, blue lock, and jujutsu kaisen, lots of kissing, smut, multi characters × reader, lots of mixed pairings, very random challenges, fluff, slow burns, mentions of cheating, drama, angst, plenty of tears, multi fandom, and playlists included!

a/n: content warnings will be posted with each chapter, so be sure to read thoroughly before indulging! i haven't written a full fic in a while, so any beta readers would be appreciated to make sure that the story comes out as best as it could <3 the story will progress through my own discretion as well as voting at the end of each chapter, so make sure to cast your votes to see how the plot will unfold!

BOMBSHELL MASTERLIST

your heartbeat was erratic as you stood in front of the fire pit and your host, eyes scanning the expanse of the large, beautiful villa that you'd been staying at for the past four weeks.

you still remember the first day that you walked in here; a plethora of pretty faces greeting you with happy smiles and intrigued expressions. you reminisced the way that you were almost as nervous as you are now, eyes wide and palms clammy as you tried to ignore the growing anxiety surging through you. you thought about all the experiences you'd had up until this point, all the friends you made, all the things you learned about yourself, and most importantly, him.

out of everything that you had been through in your time at the villa, one thing that made the whole experience worth it was finally meeting the person of your dreams. you came onto the show thinking that it would be something fun, maybe slightly embarrassing, but fun nonetheless. you never thought that you would come out the end with someone that you could call your own, someone who understood you seemingly better than you knew yourself. despite all the fights, all the tears, and everything in between, you managed to come out the other end okay. happy even.

and you weren't the only one.

your gaze fluttered to your best friend, who stood two people away from you, a proud smile crossing your lips even with your nerves consuming you. you weren't the only person who came into the villa with baggage on their shoulders, yet none of you let it stop you. a brief image of you holding her as she cried into your arms flashed through your mind, the sadness and betrayal leaving her a wreck in your makeup room. you'd thought for a moment that it would be the end of your time together, yet you were happy to see her pull through and find happiness in the end.

everyone here had done their absolute best, even with their rights and wrongs, and that thought alone was enough to quell the queasy feeling building up in your stomach.

"alright islanders, it is officially time," the hosts' voice chopped through the nerve-wracking silence with ease, her calm expression giving no hints as to how the end of the night would go. a long sigh escaped your flared nostrils as you closed your eyes, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you forced your emotions to stay in check.

a soft hand turned your attention to your left, air escaping you as you looked up at the man you could truly say you were starting to love. he smirked at you, his own expression laced with playfulness as he tried his best to calm you down. a large grin spread across your face when you felt fingers interlocking with yours, a gentle squeeze giving you all the reassurance you needed to keep yourself grounded for the time being. your breath halted as he leaned down, lips just barely touching the shell of your ear as he whispered to you softly. "we'll be fine, baby."

you pulled away so you could glance into his eyes, a small nod giving him confirmation that you heard what he said. you trust him, probably more than you should.

"it has been a long, hard journey for those of you remaining," your host started, giving a soft smile to each of the islanders standing on the other side of the firepit. "yet, each of you has managed to find a connection here in the villa. although some of you have been through more struggles than others," you could feel the heat rising onto your face when your eyes made direct contact with hers, a snort escaping you as you laughed with the rest of the islanders that you could now call your best friends. "you all have made it to the finals, and are now in the running for the 50,000 dollar prize on the line."

you subconsciously tightened your grip on his hand at the mention of the prize, your body weight shifting from one foot to the other. you wanted to win, wanted that 50,000 so badly so you could finish your schooling without issues. yet, you were content with whatever outcome was prepared for you. in the end, as long as you had him next to you, you would give up the money in a heartbeat.

"since the start of the show, the country has been voting for their favorite love island couple," each word she spoke left your anxiety spiking, your mind begging her to just hurry up and give the results before your heart exploded from suspense. "but now, they have voted for their official love island winner."

you held your breath as you stared at the host, silence taking over the villa as she picked up a small envelope from the couch behind her. you eyed the paper with angst as she peeled it open slowly, reading the results before looking up at the lot of you behind the fire pit.

you watched as her jaw flexed, a breath getting sucked into your mouth as your heart started to beat so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest.

her mouth opened, eyes scanning the crowd before the first words left her lips. "and the winner... of love island is..."

[grandline-fics]

Hi!!!! I love your stories so much mua mua mua😭😭😭can I request for how the monster trio (+any character you like!) gives their s/o aftercare? Thank you so much!!

DESCRIPTION: How they give aftercare

WARNINGS: It goes without saying that the characters are age appropriate for this. While it’s not too explicit, just to be on the safe side, everything is under the cut. I might try something more detailed or explicit in the future. MDNI

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

WORDS: 1,126

A/N: Thank you for requesting this. This is my first time dipping my toe into more NSFW centered stuff so hopefully you like it.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

As much as he is naturally affectionate and will seek out physical touch but when it comes to sex, Luffy isn’t the one to initiate things with you. Don’t get him wrong it’s enjoyable when you both take things further but it’s never his ultimate end goal for gratification when he can get that same feeling from just holding or kissing you. It’s all on you to tell him when you wish to have sex and he is more than happy to give you what you want. In that same vein, the tone and duration is all up to you too. Luffy is a quick learner and thanks to his boundless energy and related demeanour he will go for as long as you need until you’ve gotten your fill. You never need to worry about Luffy’s enjoyment because as long as he’s with you and you’re happy, so it he and if anything the aftercare is his favourite part of these moments. 

When you’re satisfied and content, you lie back against Luffy with a breathless smile as you come down from your high. When Luffy’s arms tighten around you, you let out a hum of appreciation to just bask in what just transpired. You slowly wrap your hand around his arm, enjoying the feel of him pulling you as impossibly close against his body as his warmth seeps into your skin. “Thank you.” You always need to verbally tell him of your gratitude, knowing that sex isn’t as high on his list of needs as it is on yours. 

In the beginning you’d never wanted to feel like he was being forced into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with and had insisted that the two of you didn’t need to have sex in order to be a couple. However Luffy understood what the level of intimacy meant to you and always wanted to make you happy. He doesn’t need you to thank him for what he sees as spending time together. You both tend to just lie together in the cosy embrace for a while, talking about funny adventures the crew had before you joined or even getting to hear Luffy’s stories of when he was growing up with Ace and Sabo. Finally you only untangle yourselves from each other and get cleaned and dressed when the need for food overtake you both. 

ZORO

Zoro adores you and any moment he gets with you, he relishes. With the hectic life on the sea it means privacy can be lacking at times so when he truly gets you all to himself he makes sure to indulge himself completely. He does all he can to savour the feel of your body that he has all but memorised by this point but it’s never lost its draw. Each sweet moan and cry of pleasure he can pull from you is his reward for each moment he had to endure sharing you with the others throughout the day, especially the stupid cook that still thought he had a chance with you. Sometimes these moments cause Zoro to overindulge and it means that the aftercare that is always routine is now absolutely essentially. 

He silently lets you catch your breath, only lightly running his fingers through your hair as a way of letting you know that he’s still with you as you come down from your final high. Your body has reached its limit and he knows the telltale signs that your entire body is hypersensitive but he won’t leave your side just yet. His gaze remains tried on your face, patiently waiting for the moment that you’re coming around. Your eyes slowly crack open and fix on his face, tired but thoroughly blissed. “Stop looking so worried.” You find it cute how worried he looks and how your hoarse reassurance makes all the difference to him. “I’m fine, Zoro.”

Zoro can’t help but let out the faint breath of relief and sink down to lie beside you, finally allowing himself to look over his handiwork with a grin. “Just fine?” He teases, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, grinning to see you roll your eyes. 

“If I could lift my hand to smack you I would.” You joke, trying to test moving your heavy limbs only to wince at the dulled ache spreading through you. “I’ll just save it for tomorrow.” You muse, making the mental note to follow through on the threat once you had control of your body again. You smile at the sound of Zoo’s deep laughter from beside you and let out a small groan of relief when his fingers begin their routine work of rubbing your sore limbs, taking moments to lean down to press a soft kiss against particularly sore knots that had formed or certain bite marks he was proud of while voicing your praises and telling you just how much he adores you.

SANJI

Sanji knows how varied sex can be and how different your tastes might be depending on the day or both of your moods. Whether it’s something spontaneous or planned, quick and hot or slow and tender, he’s able to cater to it all. Whatever you need, you need only ask. To Sanji there’s no greater honour than tending to your every whim and need. Getting to hold you, touch you, kiss you is the greatest reward and he thanks any God listening every day that you picked him out of everyone else.

Regardless of the type or pace of sex, the aftermath is always the same. Sanji always asks what you need. He knows that it won’t be the same every time and he’s prepared for any request that falls from your beautiful lips. In this instance after he finishes helping you get cleaned up, you request a snack. 

Sanji can’t help but grin, loving these requests the best. Refusing to be apart from you for any longer than necessary but also refusing to let you strain your body he insists on lifting you into his arms and carries you to the kitchen uninterrupted in the quiet night. Sanji always decides to ignore your protests that you’re more than capable of walking with him. “You need to rest and save your energy, love.” He’ll alway tell you with a lovesick smile. Sanji sets you on the counter with utmost care and begins to prepare the snack you want. 

As he cooks, the two of you talk lovingly and when the food is finished, Sanji stands between your legs, offering you the bites of food that are always followed by a kiss or two, ranging from quick and soft to those that get progressively deeper, all conveying just how much he desires and loves you. 

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

So. Hear 5. Nika. Loony Tunes Luffy, if you will. Tell us your thoughts on him and any potential meta? 👀 I’ve been aching to hear it from you since we first saw him go Full Silly Boy.

it's hard to answer this, because i have so many thoughts. i'm just going to try and start from the biggest points and move down.

i like gear five a lot, and i think this development feels very appropriate as a culmination of both luffy's character and the themes of one piece as a whole because of how it interacts with three extremely dominant motifs that have reoccurred throughout the story: freedom, laughter, and the sun.

from the very beginning of the story, luffy has acted, in small ways and big, as an agent of complete freedom. from his first meeting with coby to his breakout at impel down to the liberation of wano, what luffy does is destroy systems that control and oppress, if only because they are in his way. every strawhat is somehow trapped and held back from pursuing their own dreams when they meet luffy, and he frees them all, along with hundreds of others along the way, whether he's inspiring shirahoshi to venture outside or crushing yamato's manacles. his talent for this has always seemed almost preternatural.

luffy is not necessarily a benevolent person; he doesn't care much about helping people in the abstract. he's selfish. he values freedom for freedom's own sake, not because of any greater moral convictions. he doesn't think much about the negative knock-on effects of things like causing a mass breakout at impel down, and he doesn't really go around seeking out downtrodden and oppressed people to free out of a charitable or selfless instinct, nor does he really do anything because it's the right thing to do. he's dismissive of the idea that he might be a hero.

but because he is a completely uncontrollable free agent, and he doesn't really want anything but for himself and everyone he cares about to be completely free, he constantly collides with the systems of oppression that control his world, and when those collisions happen, it is the systems that fail, time and time again, because oppressive systems always do eventually. they can't withstand the light of day. and because he lives completely confidently and unapologetically, he is constantly inspiring others to do the same.

so by the time we are told about nika for the first time, we already know that what nika is said to do is what we've seen luffy doing for more than a thousand chapters: he frees people, and inspires them, and makes them laugh.

i also find luffy-as-nika to be very interesting and thematically appropriate when positioned in opposition to the various antagonists in one piece who have declared themselves to be gods, frequently some of its most tyrannical and oppressive villains- enel, the celestial dragons, doflamingo. all enslave and imprison people, robbing them of their freedom.

nika is a god of slaves, and a creature of liberation. the natural enemy, as rosinante might say, of that sort of megalomaniacal 'god.'

one piece has also consistently connected the theme of freedom, as embodied through luffy, with the sun since very early on. the sun pirates, former slaves, used the symbol of the sun to wipe away the brand of the celestial dragons. (and aren't i curious to know what jinbei might know about nika- he never did answer who's who's question about it.) the fishmen more broadly view the sun as something to be reached when they are truly free. on wano, the coming dawn is understood as the coming liberation. impel down and the florian triangle, places of indefinite imprisonment, are lightless dungeons where the sun doesn't reach. the sun is freedom.

and luffy has always been thoroughly sun associated, from the visual of his hat to his origin on dawn island in the east blue, to his ship, the thousand sunny.

finally, one piece has always placed a great deal of emphasis on smiles and laughter (laugh tale, joy boy, roger laughed, etc)- but that joy must be real. it can't be forced. we're told again and again, through koala, dressrosa's toys, and most obviously the victims of the failed SMILE fruits, that to force someone to smile, denying them the right to cry, is nothing less than an atrocity. people can't be forced to be happy- they should be happy because they're free.

luffy in gear five is laughing nigh-constantly, but it's just because he's having so much fun. unlike the victims of the SMILE fruits, his endless joy is genuine, because in this form, he is completely free- nobody can stop him, and nobody can control him. as he says himself, he can do whatever he wants.

i know that some people felt this moment was in some way a deus ex machina, but it just didn't feel that way to me, because of how well it plays on the story's established themes and trajectory, as well as concepts like devil fruit awakening having been established hundreds of chapters back.

luffy is the sun, the sun is freedom, freedom is joy. i think it makes total sense.

[leggerefiore]

HCs for Giovanni, Archer, and Colress with a shiny charm S/O - they just have unreal luck with shiny pokemon they catch them bc they know they're rare and tend to just gift shiny mons to them (which I feel like for Giovanni and Archer that's such a bad idea those pokemon are getting sold or something) Bonus thought just rolling in my brain - Giovanni and S/O with matching shiny Nidos - or S/O having a shiny variant of the character's ace mon - I just think it's cute

cw: fluff, mentions of pokemon selling in Giovanni and Archer's parts

characters: Giovanni, Archer, Colress, Grimsley

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 He finds this trait quite valuable, naturally. Pokemon of any rare colouration will fetch a higher price even if they are common pokemon that most will barely register as important. Whether he believes you are a living shiny charm… He just assumes you are talented in seeking out these pokemon. There are many legends and rumours about things that make these genetic anomalies more likely to occur, of course. He had messed around with a few himself to see if it were at all possible. Unfortunately, he decided that was not the case. Or, perhaps the difference was not worth whatever it took to procure the supposed lucky items. Unfortunately, most of your gifts to him are passed along to his sellers, but he does keep quite a few nonetheless.

🟥 When you gifted him a blue, male Nidoran, you had somehow pierced his cold heart. A rare genuine smile crossed his lips as he regarded the pokemon carefully. It seemed you were aware of his tastes. He appreciated the gift thoroughly… The pokemon would join his team quite quickly, earning its place among his other pokemon. The blue Nidoking almost becoming something like an ace to him. Of course, your purple female Nidoran sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Something between a quiet claim on you and your obvious interest in matching with him. The green Nidoqueen almost represents a certain status you have within his organisation, even if you were not officially a member.

🐕Archer🚀

♦️ Your talent intrigues him, no doubt. Whether this is before or after Giovanni disbanded Rocket, he is always looking for a way to increase profits, and your generous gifts certainly give him a hand there. He is aware that he should feel worse about giving away the pokemon that you so lovingly gift to him, but he has dedicated his whole self to Rocket... Assuredly, you would come to understand. You give him so many since you seem to attract them. Part of him wants to study how you do it and imitate you, but even you seem unaware of just how you did it. It was frustrating, but he supposed it mattered little since you kept a nice supply to him. He is quite like his boss in many regards to this… There is a fake apology from him if you do seem hurt by his actions. The last thing he wants is for you to run off or lose your gifts.

♦️ He does keep some of them, though. Archer is not stupid enough to let things that clearly mean a lot to you slip away from him. And besides… Part of him does appreciate that you clearly adore him so much that you would give these gifts away. A green Zubat stays with him alongside a blue Houndour. The fact you gifted him such pokemon... He understood. They would even possibly join his team to reflect his position as an executive. (Though, only if Giovanni himself had a few shinies, too.) When you show him your bright blue Houndoom, he lets himself have a genuine smile. How cute. You wanted to match with him. Your love was clearly secured. He lets himself breathe and sends out his Houndoom. The two pokemon seem to reflect the relationship you two had in no time at all.

🥼Colress🛸

🧪 He is not necessarily sure he believes in your luck as a superstitious thing, but there is clearly something about you that does seem to attract shiny pokemon to you. Colress was fully aware of rumours about shiny charms and breeding pokemon from two different regions to increase the chances of hatching a shiny variation. There was scientific documentation even, but the increased chances were never something potentially high enough to warrant it if you were a normal person and not a breeder. He pondered what about you could attract these pokemon. Luck was something that was calculable and could be broken down, but he doubted it was just that. He is fascinated in your existence as a scientist, and he is documenting everything related to your outings. His current theory is a pheromone. Do not even ask how he got there.

🧪 Your gifts of shiny pokemon are thoroughly cherished. His research should naturally include multiple kinds of variations and variables related to pokemon and bonds, so having the chance to work with such rare pokemon gives him a chance to explore as many opportunities as possible. They are well taken care of, too, naturally. It is not in Colress's nature to be unnecessarily cruel. When you start gifting him shiny variants of his own team, his eyes light up. Even better to compare… He is utterly fascinated. When you show up with a beige-toned Klinklang, he is further elated. You chose one of his choices of pokemon species to keep as a partner. His bond with you must be quite strong, as well. There will be lots of data to observe… Prepare to be followed around by Colress and his tablet. You have entirely caught his heart and scientific interest.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ His intrigue is certainly up there. There was a certain theory he had about you being a good luck charm, but this was clearly some further expression of it. He fully believes that you must be some strangely lucky person due to the sheer number of shinies that you encounter.  Part of him wonders if he should strap you up with a shiny charm, have you do a certain pokemon breeding method, and see what profits are to be had. He starts internally betting your odds, wanting to figure out just what percentage you had to gather. Anything can become gambling for him, and your odds of finding a shiny Audino seem just as good as playing roulette. Really, he is simply astounded that his read on you had been even more correct that he initially intended.

♡ Your gifts of shiny pokemon are appreciated, and he takes the time to care for everything you give to him. Unlike some people, he actually enjoys gifts from his partner, and the fact that you trust him with these pokemon does mean a lot to him. Grimsley is aware of how shady he seems but feels glad that you saw through it. The shiny Purrloin you gave him was truly something cherished. He lets the blue kitten curl up in his lap any time, not caring about the fur that takes over his suits. Part of him wonders if your luck transfers over to the pokemon you gift… He supposes he could find out by training them. When you appear with a red Liepard rubbing into your side, his smirk becomes uncontrolled. Oh, is that it? He easily makes the cruel pokemon purr while meeting your eyes. It seemed you wanted to match. He was more than happy to do so. But… Well, his Liepard was a bit too jealous to do anything in the end. How unfortunate.

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix (one-shot)

instincts

It takes a long time for a borrower and a human to learn to trust each other. Even though Pepper trusts Felix more than anything, he is reminded occasionally just how drastic their size difference is.

🩷 you don't need to be familiar with these characters in order to read :) this takes place over the duration of the main story. word count: 1.9k

The hum of the air conditioning filled the air, the only noise aside from Pepper’s quiet footsteps. The kitchen counter always appeared long and foreboding at night, dimly lit, but Pepper had long grown accustomed to it.

He approached the fruit bowl, peering up at the small mound of apples and grapes, just barely peeking over the rim of the bowl. Felix had caught on quickly to the fact that Pepper enjoyed green grapes the most, and while the borrower felt a little shy to have his tastes be so openly considered by the humans, it warmed his heart.

After rolling his shoulders back in a stretch, Pepper tossed his hook up to the rim of the bowl. It wasn’t very high, and it only took him a few seconds to clamber up, shoes balancing delicately on the surface of an apple. Monotonously, Pepper tugged two grapes off of the vine and stuffed them into his bag. His regular borrowing trips to the kitchen counter were repetitive and, admittedly, a little boring.

Just as his boots hit the kitchen counter again, however, his dull schedule was flipped on its head. The light flicked on overhead.

Panic seized Pepper’s wrists, and before he could think properly he dodged behind the fruit bowl, skidding to a frozen halt.

He hadn’t even heard Felix approach. The reason why his borrowing trips took place at night was because, obviously, the average human was fast asleep.

Felix’s pause was detectable, and after a moment, his voice floated over the fruit bowl. “Pepper?”

His voice carried no frustration or disgust, only a vague confusion. Pepper blinked rapidly, hugging his hook closer to his pounding heart, before loosening his grip. What was he doing?

Despite his every instinct screaming at him to stay hidden, Pepper peeked around the edge of the fruit bowl, gray eyes sheepish. 

Felix’s size never ceased to amaze him. The borrower looked up and up, meeting the human’s tired but concerned gaze. When Felix stepped closer, Pepper’s muted instincts jumped.

“What are you doing?” Felix asked gently, brow furrowed— but something in Pepper understood that Felix had an inkling of what was going on.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Pepper ducked his head, staring at his shoes. Despite Felix’s overwhelming size, the human had proven himself time and time again to be loving, patient, and trustworthy. Pepper had spent hours with him, laughing and relaxing and talking. 

Silenced by his own apprehension, Pepper gestured to the fruit bowl. The apology lingered on his lips. Felix’s lashes fluttered.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a large hand on the counter. Pepper’s gaze flickered to it, and he relaxed microscopically. “It’s fine, Pepper, you live here too.” He hesitated. “But— you know you don’t have to hide from me, right?”

He had clearly tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it trickled through. Pepper blinked up at him, heart skipping a beat.

Honestly, he couldn't explain his reasoning for ducking behind the fruit bowl. His body had reacted before his brain.

“I’m not—“ Pepper shook his head, desperate to explain himself. “I wasn’t intentionally hiding from you. You just startled me, and— I don’t know, I have instincts, I guess.”

Felix rested his elbows on the counter, shifting a little closer to his soulmate. “Instincts?”

“I— I mean, I’ve spent twenty-two years hiding from humans,” Pepper said, lips twitching into a nervous smile. “It’s not exactly a logical thing for me to hide from you, anymore, it’s just… The light turned on, and I was hiding before I could even think about it. It’s just wired in me.”

Understanding shone in Felix’s eyes, melting Pepper’s heart. “Oh,” Felix began, not unkindly. “I see. That… that makes sense.”

Pepper nodded, comfortably moving forward to rest a tiny hand on Felix’s finger. “Right. Don’t feel bad.”

——

Felix hated his professor.

The cranky old man was always shoving last-minute assignments at his students, which drove Felix up the wall, considering how much Felix liked to stay on top of his classes. 

It was currently Wednesday evening, and while Felix was already winding down on his couch and scrolling social media, he received the email that his professor now expected an entire essay by Friday. 

Annoyance lit up in his chest. He sat up straighter, swiping through the email, which laid out all of the expectations for the essay. It wasn’t going to be an easy one.

With a huff of annoyance, Felix shoved himself to his feet, tossing his phone aside. He had a pad of paper and some pencils in one of his kitchen drawers, and although it pissed him off, he might as well start outlining this stupid essay right away.

He stormed into the kitchen, and with more force than he intended, he wrenched open the drawer.

The thud and the yelp of surprise sent Felix’s heart spiraling down into his stomach, and he froze, suddenly very, very cold. 

Among the cluttered array of supplies, a movement caught his eye. Pepper was laying on his back, draped over a mound of pencils, tiny chest heaving with shuddering breaths. Felix met his wide-eyed gaze.

“Woah— shit, I’m sorry.” Guilt tore him like wildfire, watching as Pepper’s panicked gaze crumpled into something more miserable, slowly sitting up among the pencils. “I— I didn’t know you were in there, I— fuck— are you hurt?”

In the few months that Felix had known him, he had never once encountered Pepper in this drawer— although when he saw the paper clips sticking out of his satchel, splayed on next to him, he supposed this drawer actually held a lot of useful items for a borrower. 

Still, he felt clumsy and dangerous, watching anxiously as Pepper rubbed at his shoulder, clearly struggling to calm himself. With how quickly Felix had entered the kitchen and opened the drawer, Pepper must have been given quite the scare. Felix prayed that he was only scared and not injured.

To his relief, Pepper shook his head, running his hands over his arms as if to double check. His gray eyes peered up at the human, hesitant, but thankfully not terrified. “What was that all about?” He finally asked, wincing. Felix’s heart crumpled.

“Sorry.” Felix shook his head, hoping that his embarrassment wasn’t showing on his face. “I— I just needed a pen and paper, because I got this stupid assignment from this evil professor, and…”

He trailed off, observing Pepper’s owlish gaze. Felix wasn’t oblivious to the borrower’s apprehension. He had figured out on his own that Pepper specifically felt uncomfortable around angry humans, considering that a single thoughtless action fueled by anger could lead to a lot of pain for the borrower. As much as Felix hated the idea of hurting the borrower, he couldn’t deny that he was much more dangerous to the borrower when he was angry, as indicated by his wrenching of the drawer.

Felix exhaled, dropping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m just in a bad mood. It’s not your fault. Here… you want a hand?”

When he carefully set his hand down next to the borrower, Pepper eyed it, not unlike a bird might view a suspicious object. After only a second of hesitation, Pepper stepped into his palm, pulling his satchel closer to himself. “It’s okay,” he finally said, noticing Felix’s miserable expression. “I just fell over. It wasn’t that bad.”

Felix sighed, gently moving Pepper to the countertop, where the borrower scrambled off with a little too much gusto. “If I had known you were in there, I wouldn’t have— I wouldn’t have opened it so fast. I’m really sorry, again.”

It was a little sickening, honestly, to see how much his actions could affect the borrower. They both were incredibly lucky that Pepper hadn’t been hurt, and it made Felix’s stomach twist.

Glancing over Pepper’s small form, Felix swore to himself that he would be more cautious in the future.

——

The night had started off wonderful.

Pepper had been sitting on the arm of the couch, absentmindedly untangling his hook and thread. The thread had acquired quite a few knots over the weeks, and with Felix next to him as company, Pepper had set to work smoothing it out.

They had been chatting quietly, a movie playing as background noise. Felix’s hand rested only a few inches away from the borrower, a comforting reminder of his presence.

“This movie sucks,” Pepper teased, glancing between the screen and his thread. Felix snickered somewhere above him. “Can they just kiss already?”

“They need to build up to that,” Felix disagreed, amusement in his tone. “The movie would be two minutes long without the tension.”

“Well, maybe it should— oh!”

Pepper’s sentence was cut off by the jerking of his entire body, something instantly closing tight around his torso. Simultaneously, Felix’s hand moved somewhere beside him— and with a mindless surge of panic Pepper whirled around (tightening the pain around his chest even more) with his hook gripped tight in his fists, now a weapon.

Felix was frozen, wide blue eyes staring down at Pepper, and with a mixture of fear and confusion Pepper vaguely realized that he was currently brandishing his hook up at Felix, the man he had spent the last hour laughing and watching a movie with.

The world had gone still, but Pepper’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest, still constricted by something tight and painful. Felix’s hand wasn’t wrapped around the borrower, crushing him, like Pepper had subconsciously expected— but his thread seemed to have tightened around his chest at the same time the thread had looped around Felix’s finger.

“I— are you okay?” Felix began hesitantly, finally breaking the tense silence that had descended upon them. His worried voice sent Pepper’s shoulders slumping, and with a sheepish glance the borrower lowered his trembling hook.

The thread had tangled around Pepper’s chest without him realizing, and because of Felix’s small movement, the human had accidentally tightened the thread around both of them and tugged Pepper towards him. The unexpected action had startled both of them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pepper forced out, releasing a nervous laugh. Felix had already removed the thread from around his finger, loosening the constriction around Pepper’s chest somewhat. “Shit, that— that surprised me. Sorry.”

Although the panic had already died down, Pepper couldn’t fight the uncomfortable thought of Felix snatching him up and squeezing him unexpectedly. Of course he knew that Felix would never, ever do such a thing— the thought was absurd, actually— but the fact that he had reacted so defensively made his stomach hurt. He hated the idea that he feared Felix, somewhere deep down. His heart sank.

However— Felix was already nudging the thread aside, gaze soft and focused. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that Pepper had weakly threatened him with his hook. Gentle fingers moved against Pepper’s torso, overwhelming but not intrusive, and after a few seconds the tightness around the borrower’s chest fell away. Felix had carefully tugged the thread loose. 

“Here,” Felix murmured, gaze flickering briefly to Pepper’s face. The borrower sucked in an enormous, shaky breath, bringing a hand to his chest. “Sorry about that. I think that was my fault.”

Pepper blinked up at him, numbly stepping out of the circle of thread that had fallen around him. He lowered his hook down as well, then wrung his hands together, flushing. He felt silly for having reacted with such panic. “It’s okay— I shouldn’t have strewn the thread all over.” 

Felix’s gaze lingered, hesitant. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

He had noticed Pepper’s panic, then. The borrower shuffled his feet, peering sheepishly up at his soulmate. “Yeah, I promise. Thanks, Felix.”

With a considerably larger breath, Pepper patted Felix’s hand, offering a warm smile. When Felix’s gaze softened and his finger glided along Pepper’s back, the borrower sank into his touch. 

----

i hope you enjoyed!!! things were getting a little too chummy in the main story and i needed to scare pepper sorry fukcufkcnks

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan @mabelisthebatman n @andithewhumper @mothsintherain @violetlight @heroofthe13thday @phoenix-on-the-run @houseboatmac @dav8530 @ididit-allofit-foryou @soakedmilkgt

[gffa]

So, I fucking loved The Living Force, I found it to be one of the most Jedi-positive books out there, and look I can't guarantee you that you'll feel the same way, this book only gets the Lumi stamp of approval, not the "you'll definitely love this as a fan of the Jedi" stamp of approval, so take that as you will. But this book took such care to give the Jedi Council members different fun personalities, that even when Saesee was a total grump, he was a funny grump and one who clearly dove right into helping people, that even when it was Qui-Gon who issued the challenge, the book showed it as an excuse for the Jedi Council members to take some time off to go do what they were choosing to do, that their good acts were their own, not Qui-Gon's. This book took such care to give moments to the Jedi discussing why they put their efforts where they did and showed that they all loved helping people, none of them felt this was beneath them for a moment, only that they felt they could help more people by doing their regular Council duties most of the time. The discussions they had weren't about castigating themselves, but about discussing where their balance should be, that their work as a Council was always seen as necessary, that they very much did need to look towards the future, but that they as individual Jedi sometimes needed a reason to do something more individual. Because of that good-faith feeling in the narrative, other things also came off really good-naturedly, like Ki-Adi-Mundi often was stilted or just did not understand the point of some of this ridiculousness, but he was never painted as uncaring, but instead very much came off to me like he was on the spectrum and that that was fine, it was part of the feeling of how each of these characters is allowed a different personality and allowed to see duty and the Force and their lives differently, that there was emphasis put on how the Council prized those differences because it helped make them stronger.

And the author clearly had an absolute blast writing Yarael and Even Piell especially, they were hilariously fun and there is SO MUCH FUNNY BANTER, like there's so much friendly teasing between characters, there's so many little moments that show these people care about each other and have fun with each other, that there's no doubt that this Council is full of life and light. I also really enjoyed Mace and Depa's dynamic, that it's clear he cared about her and still worried about her, but he trusted her to take care of herself, that Depa's part of the storyline was a bit more subdued in a lot of ways, but she was thoroughly competent and trusted to understand what she was getting into. Mace does fuss over her a bit in the end, but she's strong enough to stand up for herself and he takes it in stride because she's a Jedi Master now and knows what she's doing, that she's trusted to be right about what's going on and how this should be handled, as well as her deep care for the people she gets involved with around her.

The only real heads up I would give (other than to caution that the opening chapters might make you side-eye a bit, but I ask a little patience with the book) is that it's in a specific worldbuilding genre, that it's not really about the spiritual aspect of the Jedi Order worldbuilding, but instead more about administrative worldbuilding and the action plot. But if you're into that (and I was so into that because I love worldbuilding detail!) and into the Jedi Council being hilarious and getting time to basically take a vacation, then I hope you'll enjoy this book with me, too. I know what the interview from the author said, but honestly I felt none of that with the book, it felt like a story that really understood the increasing complexity of the galaxy around them and that there weren't any easy answers, that the future does matter, even if so too does the present, that what the Council does as a Council is vital to the good work the Jedi Order does, but that this provides them with the breathing space to balance it with their own individual ways of being a Jedi, which is simply giving them some breathing room and letting them flourish on their own!

[dearmyloveleys]

"Zhao Yuanzhou once told me that he often stared into space alone by the sea in the Wilderness. Because the sea never cared about his sadness and loneliness. The sea has a lot to worry about. Because, everyday, ten thousand waves are born from its embrace. And everyday, ten thousand lives fall into it and their souls sink into the deep sleep. I didn't understand it then, but after he left, I understood that bone-deep sadness. It was the base colour of his soul, like a broken song, vast, distant, and desolate."

- Zhuo Yichen, Ep 35 (Extra)

I’m not sure if this is has been raised by the fandom in the early days when the series started airing, but I find it so… it’s not foreshadowing, it’s just… (melancholic) now that we have the full view of everything. Zhao Yuanzhou’s name in Chinese characters are 赵远舟. 远 (yuan) — far away, 舟 (zhou) — boat. I recall there was an episode where he, ZYC and WX were making fun of each other’s names. Though, in that scene, they only mention his birth name, Zhu Yan, which funnily enough, the Yan (厌) does indeed stand for ‘annoying’ as the other two speculate. Yet it also stands for loathing, or be fed up with something. His birth name represents the slow grudge and despair he bears for his birth Demonic nature, the things out of his control. His human name doesn't fare any better. In fact, it is rather tragic.

Yuan Zhou — a far away boat, never docking on the shores of tranquility. It's a gifted human name from a person he cares about, yet, the humanity that this represents is innately unreachable. Gifts never have permanence in his life after all. He is always physically on the shore, looking out at the ocean of the Wilderness. He looks out to this yuan zhou, this metaphorical boat beyond his grasp, floating on this ocean of intertwining dreams and nightmares. The ocean is his ironic safe haven, as he finds that it "never cared for his sadness or loneliness". But his mind is simultaneously also the boat itself, drifting endlessly in sadness and loneliness. He looks out into the ocean where ten thousand waves are born and ten thousand lives are taken, each scenario representing the endless birth and death of his hopes and despair. He looks out at the ocean and sees himself in its waves.

As humans, regardless of culture, our names stand for our hopes and wishes. Names have power, in fiction and mythology, they are often a character’s prophecy. His human name reflects the human side of him that is unreachable and desolate, adrift at sea never settling on the shore - this human nature that is in sight but never attainable. On the other end, his Demon birth name reflects who he is and what he loathes, but it also comes with fond memories. To be a human or a demon? To which he says, "Be whatever you want to become". The tragic truth is, deep down, he cares for both his identities. He doesn’t want to solely become either. It wounds him that the two sides of him, the demon and the human can never truly reconcile. His nature eternally jostles with what he nurtures. Neither of his names comes with meanings of comfort — his prophecy is one of endless contradiction and encompasses his pain that is thoroughly evoked through the series. The base colour of his soul, like a broken song, vast, distant, and desolate.

Though there is hope, as the story reiterates. As far as mythological prophecies go, fate will bite you in the ass if you avoid it. ZYZ doesn’t avoid these prophecies. Instead, when a human and a demon shows him that both sides can be loved, he fulfils both identities of himself. His self-fulfilling prophecy that he expects from all his inner grief and turmoil, comes true, but not in the way fate expects. But fate cannot condemn him any longer. He still has met his dictated end, hasn't he? He hasn't tempted it in any way or form. Light shines through, and I believe the Heavens are chuckling away in a corner of their world. They let him go to be whatever he wants to be, and he becomes the guiding love that he has always wanted.

[girl4music]

Those last 2 episodes. Appropriately titled ‘Heart Part 1’ and ‘Heart Part 2’ because my heart is so full. I have so much to say and have no idea where to start with it.

So much happened. Every lead character’s individual arc was thoroughly concluded in a very satisfying way. Even some of the recurring ones got an endgame so there’s a lot to cover in this recap of a fantastic finale and I feel so fulfilled on great storytelling and great representation packed into a neatly tied up ending.

MAJOR SPOILERS: do not read this if you have not seen the finale of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

I guess I’ll start with Shadow Weaver because she had an endgame that I had predicted. Well, sort of. I said that Shadow Weaver’s arc can only go in 1 of 2 ways. I said it was either personal attainment (villainy) or personal sacrifice (heroism). So I wasn’t surprised when it was the latter. But I wasn’t able to trust in her going that way sincerely until she started attacking that monster, told Catra that she was proud of her, took off her mask and then told them both ‘you’re welcome’. I couldn’t trust that she was sincerely helping them to achieve releasing and channelling the Heart of Etheria’s magic… which by the way, is what almost brought them to the brink of destruction the first time they tried to do it. However, I understood that because She-Ra was the conduit for that, that it could have a different outcome. Still destructive but destructive only to the opposition. I think anyway. I might have to rewatch that part again because I don’t think I fully understood what was going on there. But yes, Shadow Weaver went out in a heroes death rather than was the cause of her own demise out of hunger for power and a desire to attain the magic of the Heart Of Etheria for selfish aim. I was happy with it.

Glimmer and Bow: I decided to talk about these 2 lead characters together since part of their arc involves each other. It was no surprise to me that they would declare their love for each other. I mean Glimmer has always had a crush on Bow and they’ve been the very best of friends since they were children. I wasn’t sure about Bow at first but I knew intense romantic feelings would develop and I’m glad it was Glimmer who said it first. I am a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a kiss on the lips but I think I understand why that was. I’ll get there. Be patient. There’s way too much to talk about first and I really want to save Catradora until the very last section because I’ll have the most to say about them as a lot of their arc informs well… pretty much the whole TV show.

Glimmer individually had more of an arc in the TV show than Bow did so a significant amount of my meta goes to her. It was mainly how she was fairing as Queen but also how useful she could be to the team because of it. Then of course there was Micah. Reuniting with him but having to battle with him because he was an unwilling agent of Horde Prime. I laughed with pure joy when the influence on him ended and he said “Hi, I’m your dad.” I really felt for Glimmer when she was desperately trying to heal him and she said “I won’t lose another parent!” So it was so satisfying for me to realize she healed him and that she poured all the love she could into that heal and when she succeeded, the proud smile that he wore must have made her feel like Queen of the world, never mind just her little town of Brightmoon. She deserves it.

Likewise it was wonderful to see how proud Bow’s dads were of him when he gave that rousing battle speech to the reawakened masses of Etherians, telling them to be their own warriors and fight for their home. It was right that it was Bow to do that rather than Adora or Glimmer because that is what he had trained himself to do from the beginning. He wants to be an archer battling on the side of the greater good and not a historian. So to see his dads holding each other, proudly watching him… it brought a tear to my eye, I have to admit. So beautiful!

Hordak and Entrapta: I had no idea that I would get a closure for Entrapta, let alone Hordak. I did and I’m so happy about it because even though she was only a recurring character, Entrapta buried her way into my science, tech and engineering loving heart (with a spanner and a blowtorch? You will never know 🤣) but I am glad that she got over her obsession enough to focus on what really mattered. Saving her friends.

The fact that what stopped Horde Prime wasn’t Adora or Glimmer or who you would expect, but Hordak and Entrapta? That hit so hard with me. To give THEM the hero moment of defeating the villain. I was like “Oh my god! That’s brilliant!” Because it is. Think about it. Who do you think Horde Prime tortured the most? His Little Brother! I still don’t know if that was literally or not. 🤷‍♀️ Was he actually related or was he just another clone because he did call Catra his “Little Sister” too? That’s still so creepy to me. But yeah, for Hordak to get that moment of retribution was absolutely delicious for me and then for Entrapta to reach him when Horde Prime tried to take over through the Hive Mind? So, so, good! That made total sense and it was brilliantly executed!

Scorpia and Mermista: The only reason to lump these 2 characters together is because they were chipped and controlled the longest that they caused significant damage to Etherians. There’s not really much to say about them other than that they’re going to have huge headaches now that this is all over due to how far gone they were. I mean I’m glad that they were able to save them but I just don’t know what the aftermath will be for them or whether they will be the same ever again.

From the way I watched and interpreted the TV show, I understood that one of the main narrative themes of it was psychological conditioning and I’ve been in awe that this children’s show was brave enough to tell that very dark story,… let alone see it right through until the end because it’s an ambitious, elaborate and difficult narrative undertaking. Especially to do it properly,… which they definitely did. To tell the darkness of… well… basically radicalization and genocide but to do so in such a way that it could teach and motivate kids to develop on their innate judgement and discernment so if - god forbid - they ever end up in that situation, they’ll know exactly what to do about it. With team She-Ra being their idols, they’ll be able to fight conditioning. I can imagine that’s what the creators intended with this and I cannot acknowledge and commend them on it high enough. I think that ND Stevenson and the entire creative team are incredibly courageous and amazing to make this a main thematic narrative all throughout this TV show and handle it with skill and compassion that it does not once come across as too much for PG.

Catradora: (Yes, I’m using the ship name because the way they tie up their individual character storyline arcs seamlessly also ties in with their romantic arc and you do not know how hard it is to find this with WLW ships.)

First off, I want to point out something that may or may not have been pointed out before with Catradora but this is just how it came across to me in the narrative given I interpret psychological conditioning as a main theme within it. To me, a lot of the reason why Catra is the way she is as a villainous character when it comes to receiving love and affection has do with this factor. She’s so closed off and repressed to the point that she cannot even see that she’s corrupting and sabotaging herself. She is a lot like Xena in this way. But a major striking difference for Catra is that she physically loses the one person in the world that stops her from doing this, whereas Xena physically gains that one person. Trust issues, abandonment issues, parental issues all tie in together - but that was all tolerable when Adora was around her. As soon as Adora leaves her behind in the Fright Zone and, furthermore, begins to oppose her as the hero of Etheria, she spirals so hard and so fast that all of those issues - which were always issues caused by the abusive treatment from Lord Hordak and Shadow Weaver - come crashing down one by one on top of her because she no longer has the person who makes those issues just inconveniences for her. Not only that but … it feels like personal betrayal for her that Adora fights her. She genuinely does think that Adora hates her. I mean who wouldn’t if they were in her shoes (paws?) and had the “upbringing” and “nurturing” backstory she’s had? So Catra has this preconceived notion that Adora never cared about her and left her because she thought she was better than her and was chasing after heroic glory and believes that she was too weak to go with her. In a way it’s a personal vendetta out of misunderstandings Catra has against Adora and those feelings are intense not just because the Horde brainwashing is that deep and severe but also because her love is that deep too and she can’t differentiate which feelings are which. So she becomes She-Ra’s mortal enemy because in her mind, She-Ra is what has taken Adora away from her.

But obviously, from Adora’s side, She-Ra was sprung on her, Etheria was sprung on her. In fact her entire world upended once she recognized her life for what it was. A lie. That she was the villain brutalizing innocent people. She couldn’t go back to them even if she had wanted to because everything she had ever knew was fraudulent and she had been coerced and deceived into being a weapon. And what I really like about Adora’s individual arc is that eventually this was revealed to be true on both sides of the war. She was a weapon for evil and for the greater good. But all she wanted - as all heroes do - was just to protect and defend her loved ones. That’s it. Catra could never see it that way though and it makes sense that she couldn’t given her conditioning was even worse as it involved one-on-one attacks from Shadow Weaver as well as whatever the treatment was with the entire group. Catra’s psychological conditioning was much more personal, intimate and isolated so what was ingrained into her had much deeper and stronger layers added on to it. Hers was a solid brick wall built trauma complex. Those are always much harder to recognize and escape from but with the right therapy,… it can be done. Given her issues weren’t so bad when Adora was around her but got much worse when Adora left her… it is clear that Adora represented a sort of therapy for her. Adora helped her keep all the crippling thoughts of self-doubt and self-contempt at bay. But they were on full volume when Adora left and kept attempting to kill her.

Okay, so let’s finally get on to their romantic arc and how the finale not only concluded their individual character representation and development arcs but also ended their ship slow burn. It wasn’t until the fantastic episode of ‘Save The Cat’ did I realize they were going there. See,… to start with, I knew that they were going to become a canon WLW couple at some point otherwise I would have never started watching it. That was the draw for me. That they were both lead characters in a canon WLW ship in a children’s TV show. That floored me. But I was not prepared at all for what I got to see in the finale. It was groundbreaking. It was phenomenal. In fact I’m sure it was life changing for many queer kids to see that kiss happen the way it did. Or… just happen on-screen at all. Look, I am so used to the “implied” and “assumed” and “disguised” when it comes to WLW physical intimacy that I just do not ever expect blatant leaves-absolutely-no-doubt-whatsoever kisses. I certainly don’t expect WLW kisses written and portrayed as “the power of love” kind. It’s extremely rare. To see it in a children’s show nailed me to the floor. But furthermore - added on to that astonishing feat - is that both lead characters overcome all their issues and obstacles through that very act like… a fairytale story. It’s like… when the Princess kisses the Princess, all is well… there’s no stopping either from that point on. It seems corny but it all just depends on how it’s done. But the fact is you don’t see it done between WLW at all. So to see it done WELL alongside seeing it done at all… I mean Indy knew that he had an assignment with this but the phrase “he understood the assignment” doesn’t cover or justify what was accomplished with this and I can’t believe it’s took me this long to see it.

Every TV art/entertainment creator should watch this TV show and regard this finale as the perfect example of what queer representation can and should provide in TV because this was just the epitome of what true love is. But the fact it was between 2 female lead characters.

I can’t even begin to explain how much it meant to me but I will spend the rest of my life trying to express it because this really was a groundbreaking achievement and I will be adding this WLW ship to my very short list of WLW ships that shape and satisfy every piece of me.

I have had the best fucking time watching this TV show and I will be doing reruns of it for god knows how long because I am sure there is so much more there for me just like there is with Xena, Buffy, Charmed, Dragon Ball Z, Wynonna Earp and Arcane. All these beloved shows are timeless to me for a reason and She-Ra is the same.

I hope you all enjoyed reading my recaps of my very first watch of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. 🎄

[krowlovesinazuma]

I posted this by accident... ;-;

Check out this prologue and this post for context!

Scenario: Talking to them about modern wars

Characters: Kujou Sara, Sangonomiya Kokomi

With your appearance and needing to protect you, combined with all the things she already has to do as part of the Tenryou Commission, you shouldn't expect her to start this conversation. She can't help but be curious sometimes, but she won't tell.

The conversation would probably start with you making an off hand comment about wars in your world, which would lead her to ask, just for the sake of it. After all, information was never bad to have as a militarist... At least, that's what she thought.

She couldn't help but wish that it was a bad joke at first, but she listened intently, and asked many questions. Some were for precautions in her line of work, others were slightly more for curiosity's sake. It's easy to tell which is which from the tone of her voice, much to her dismay.

She wanted to hear you talk about battle strategies, but sadly, the battles themselves were never the focus of general history much, to her dismay. You were able to tell her about larger strategies, however, which she did wish to hear more about.

What scared her the most were the motivations. She understood that wars were not a fight of good against evil, but even she was appalled when she heard the political issues that led to these conflicts.

Well, either that, or the sheer mass of numbers related to everything. Millions of deaths across the world, all just listed as data and passed off as history... It was terrifying for her to think about such large numbers.

And then the weaponry... She was actually interested in hearing about this quite decently, but after hearing the first few details, mainly gigantic bombs or mechanized guns, she was done.

As soon as she's done with this break of hers she's going to thoroughly rethink aggressive politics and the dangers of large-scale conflicts. Partly for her country, but she couldn't shake this fear for her men, herself, or even for you...

"Please excuse me for having interrupted you, but I do not wish to know more. It's... Unsettling to think about, especially how you just mention it so casually. I know we may have a dark past as Inazuma as well, but I assure you, we'll maintain this peace, for all our sake."

Kokomi loves reading about old warfare and similar tales in her downtime, so it was a simple matter of time before she asked about it when the two of you were just relaxing in down time.

She couldn't lie, she was half expecting you to not know, as many in Inazuma didn't know many specifics about old wars, especially since they were so many centuries ago. When you told her that the ones you spoke about were only about a century old though, she was curious.

The large scale of everything did take her off guard however. While she read of warfares, none she knew involved such large countries, especially not any that were that recent. She realized how serious of a subject this was, and yet you were so casual about it...

She asked why you treated it as common knowledge, and to her surprise, it was apparently supposed to be? It saddened her to hear that it was all just data for most people, but the thought of hearing more details kept her hooked.

The first thing that truly unsettled her were the origins of the war. She understood that it was the reason why it was spread as common knowledge, but the fact that it happened either way was more than troubling, especially as a leader herself.

She couldn't even imagine the aftermath that you described. She had gotten used to taking losses and learning to overcome them in her time as a leader, but never had she faced something so devastating as the things you describe.

And then of course, the weaponry. While she was mostly intrigued by the use of firearms and how advanced they were from swords and shields, but when the theme switched to nukes and bombardments, she was very much intimidated.

She tried to act the same after that talk, but she couldn't help but feel worried for both you and her island if tension ever came to rise. Sadly for you, that means more effort into her work for her.

"Huh? Of course I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me so much. In fact, I'm thankful for you telling me all of this. I know that we don't have numbers as large in our humble island, but it's better to be safe than sorry... What do I mean? Well, treating my leadership with more care, for starters."

[licorice-and-rum]

Babel and "shallow characters"...

I'll be completely honest with y'all, whoever criticizes Babel because its characters are not deep enough? Bonkers. Completely mad.

How the f* are you telling me that you don't see Robin's complicated struggle between safety and morality? And the fact that he wants so bad to fit in but can only feel included when he's with people who understand? And how shy he can be? How adorably (and not so adorably) inattentive? The fact that he loves Scones and his friends and that even in the face of the greatest betrayal, there was still a part of him that wanted to comfort his betrayer because she had been important to him? How do you not see how lost he feels?

You're telling me you don't see Ramy's upbeat energy, how he's always loyal to his ideals, how important his faith and the identity that comes with it are to him, how courageous he can be for straight up mocking racist people, how he loves his family above most things, how important it is for him to preserve the identity no one but Robin and Victoire is really interested in knowing?

You're telling me you don't see Victoire's longing for someone who understood, or her solitude even among her friends, her determination in the fight contrasting amazingly with her patience and steady resolution, her resilience when it comes to life, her hopes and dreams of living thoroughly in a world that doesn't want her to live...

How the f* did you lose that? I'm almost crying just thinking about it.

It's kinda terrible to think some people might feel that because they don't know how to relate to POC's struggles, like... how can you not, you know? How can you not?

[a-kaash-me-outside]

not fair - ch1

in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer... ch1 | next [masterlist]

// "i don't know if you could handle me" ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 9731 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), use of character first names (idk what got into me when i wrote this 3 years ago), degradation, choking, face-fucking, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, stop light system, squirting, dirty talk, mentions of unconscious fucking, the smallest amount of plot that becomes more prevalent as the chapters continue on, soft after sex kei, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

It wasn’t unusual for Kei to be over while Tadashi was out of town. It happened quite frequently, actually. You two were best friends, even before Tadashi was in the picture. You never let anything come between you two, not even Tadashi. Tadashi understood too. He was never jealous of the time that you spent together or accusing towards the two of you and flirting remarks you would pass. You and Kei were just… well, you and Kei.

But tonight was different. Tonight, you were in yours and Tadashi’s bedroom, which wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were both on the bed, which also wasn’t the unusual part. Tonight, you were sitting with your chin on Kei’s chest and your leg between his legs, your knee resting on his crotch. This wasn’t even an unusual position for the two of you, who often would press yourselves together in intimate positions. Tonight, you finally admitted to Kei that Tadashi has only made you come twice in the entire time that you’ve been together. 

“What? Like, dating? Or?” Kei asks, his eyebrows furrowed together, looking thoroughly disgusted and confused, “because it could just be that you’re both too soft n-.”

“Like, ever, Kei,” you interrupt, looking just as confused and disgusted as Kei was. 

“That’s horrible,” he scoffs, “You just let that happen?”

“I don’t let it happen, Kei. It just happens.” You rest your head completely on his chest, sighing dramatically. “He’s amazing. He’s incredible. He’s so nice and he’s kind and he’s pretty and he’s everything that I need!” 

Kei scoffs again at your words, “but he can’t make you come?”

“But he can’t make me come,” you repeat, shaking your head against Kei’s chest and then look back up at him. “I just, I haven’t gotten off from someone else in so long. Only me, alone, in the bathroom.”

“That’s so sad,” Kei says, the disgusted look still lingering.

“What else am I supposed to do about it?” you groan, frustrated. 

“Get someone else to fuck you,” Kei shrugs. He doesn’t laugh or hint at a joke. He’s being serious.

“Wha- What? I can’t do that…,” you hide your face from Kei, ensuring that he doesn’t see the redness on your cheeks.

“Sure you can. Look, you have needs, okay. He can’t satisfy them. You just have someone else do it.”

“I don’t trust anyone enough to do that.” You feel horrible even contemplating the option. A terrible light bulb goes off in your head. 

“You…,” you start, hesitantly. Kei’s eyes widen immediately at the start of your sentence. 

“No. No, absolutely not. He’s my best friend,” Kei shakes his head.

“You’re my best friend,” you say, softly. “I don’t trust anyone else! You said it yourself. I have needs, Kei. He can’t satisfy them. I have to find someone else to do it.”

“You’re really going to use my own words against me?” 

“Yes,” you state so matter-of-factly. 

“No. I won’t,” he shakes his head, looking away from you, but not moving you from on top of him.

“Kei, please! I couldn’t do this with anyone else, but I’m just,” you take a deep breath, ready to lay all of your shame out on the table. “I need this. I’m so desperate, please.” Kei introduced this idea to you and so quickly you needed it to become a reality. You needed it to become a reality with Kei. 

Kei looks you over, your chin pressed against his sternum as he breaths. “Fine. You want to know the real reason?” Your interest is piqued. You tilt your head, curiously. 

“Hm?” You can’t believe you’re even having this conversation, but now you’re in too deep. 

“I don’t know if you can handle me,” Kei pushes you off of him and promptly gets off the bed. 

“Wha- What do you mean?!” You’re offended. He’s acting like you’ve never had sex with a condescendingly cold person before. You scoff at this statement, rolling your eyes dramatically, and standing up with him, following him.

“I mean, I don’t think you can handle me,” he repeats himself, not wavering his tone or message. He adds after a second of your angry face, “You’ve been with Tadashi for almost 2 years. You guys have probably been having vanilla, missionary sex, maybe doggy style if you’re feeling extra spicy, the entire time you’ve been together.” He waits for your objections before continuing, interrupting them, “I know I’m not wrong and I know Tadashi. He’s just as nice and “sorry, (y/n)!” in his day to day as he is in bed.” You’re silent. You know he’s not wrong. 

Tadashi has always been so accommodating and kind in every aspect of your relationship. He tries so hard in bed, he really does, but he’s made you cum maybe twice in your entire relationship with the help of yourself, though he would probably claim many more times than that seeing how often you fake it. You hate yourself for it, but you’ve tried so hard to teach him, to show him, to tell him exactly what you want and how to do it, but he never gets it. It’s exhausting and has been way easier to just to fake it and then finger yourself later in the bathroom after he’s gone to sleep.

You want Kei so badly. You want to come so badly and you know that right now is your only chance. “I- I can handle you.” Your voice is much more timid and much less convincing than you anticipate it being. 

“I don’t think you can.” Kei’s voice, in contrast, is steady and low, already causing your core to feel warm. 

“I can, Kei, I can. Please,” you hold onto his arm, looking up at his face, pleading, “please.” You sound much more confident, and also much more despairing as you whine for him. He looks at you for a few moments, his eyes trailing up and down your body and finally stopping on your eyes, searching for the overwhelming excitement and consent that he needs to move forward.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. This is the final time he’s going to ask or question you. He needs you to be absolutely positive because he’s not going to hold back. You nod desperately. “Verbal consent, (y/n), I’m serious.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Kei, please. I need this. Please, I can handle it, anything, please.” The string of words leaves your mouth quickly. Kei waits another few seconds after, giving you plenty of time to change your mind before closing the gap between you both. His lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth so quickly. He’s holding your jaw as he tastes every inch of the inside of your mouth. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, hard, allowing you to explore his mouth. His tongue is harsh against yours, but it feels so good. He pulls away abruptly, already lifting your shirt over your head and running his hands down your body, his hands sculpting around every curve. 

“If at any time this gets too much for you,” he presses kisses into your neck, nudging your chin upwards as he starts to softly roll the skin between his teeth. “Yellow means we’re moving to somewhere you’re uncomfortable with.” He licks your neck, pressing his entire tongue against your skin. When he pulls away, the air is cool against the freshly wet flesh. “Red means that you’re uncomfortable and you want to stop immediately.” He moves down to your collarbones, nibbling on them and breathing heavily against them. 

“If you can’t speak,” he grabs your hand and taps 3 distinct, hard times against your skin with two fingers. “3 taps, hard so that I can feel them without a doubt, and two fingers to know it’s intentional.” His eyes are on yours, his look stern and serious. “Do you understand?” You nod, overwhelmed with all of this information.

“(y/n), verbal consent. I don’t fuck around,” he says, his eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“Yes,” you nod confidently, despite the questions forming in the back of your mind. Maybe you couldn’t handle him. You weren’t expecting this level of safety precautions, maybe just a safeword considering how he made out that you couldn’t handle him. Maybe he was right. 

“Repeat.” Kei’s lips are back on your throat, sucking the skin so hard that you feel the bruises forming almost instantly. His hands are reached around to your back, one hand sliding down over your ass and the other unhooking your bra before you notice what he’s doing. He tosses it to the side and presses himself against you, your nipples dragging against the fabric of his shirt as he massages into the flesh of your ass. 

You can’t exactly think straight, but it’s important that you remember these even when you can’t think. “Y- Yellow means caution, that I’m starting to f- feel uncomfortable about something.” Kei digs his fingers into your flesh as he moves his head down, capturing your nipple in his mouth and twirling his tongue around it. “Fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back. 

He pulls away from your nipple, the cold air feeling even colder on your spit sheened nipple, causing it to get even harder. “What else?” 

You answer quickly, just wanting to feel his tongue on your nipples again. “Re- Red means that you- that I- I want you to stop because I’m- I don’t like it- I’m uncomfortable.” Your nipple is back in his mouth. He’s sucking on it with such purpose, the suction sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

“A- And, I’m going to, ta- tap on you to- to show you, but please, please don’t stop, Kei.” You grab onto his shoulder and tap with two fingers against his back, 3 times with enough force for him to feel them. He listens to you, nodding as you tap against him, but keeping your nipple in his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, bringing his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers. “Fuck,” you breath. 

He stops, coming back up to face you. “Good.” His fingers are making quick work of your button and zippers and are quickly in the waistband of your jeans, pulling them to the ground, but leaving you in your underwear. On his way back up, he runs his hand up the inside of your leg, following your ankle to your calf to your inner thigh leading to your pussy as he uses one finger to rub once between your slit, pressing harder into your clit, rubbing two circles before stopping and stepping backward. You can’t help but moan at this tiny, delicate touch. He’s still fully dressed and you’re suddenly aware of what you probably look like. Your instinct is to try to cover yourself up from Kei’s hungry eyes, but he starts rubbing his cock through his pants. Your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his jeans. You feel your panties get even wetter as you see how big the bulge is. You’re almost positive that Kei could see how much wetter you got, how the dark spot on your panties grew when he started rubbing himself. 

He pulls his own shirt off and you marvel at how toned his body is, how perfect his skin is. He takes a step towards you, his hard bulge only inches away from your thigh. Your breath stills. “Take them off, baby,” he encourages. You listen to him, beginning to lower yourself to your knees, but he holds your elbow, not allowing you to drop. “From here.” You’re confused at first until he uses his hand to rub in between your lips through your panties. “I want to be able to touch you.”

You nod, your breath skipping as you try your hardest to focus on undoing his buckle. It seems like such a difficult task right now, your mind completely infatuated with the feeling of Kei’s long finger rubbing against the doused fabric of your panties. You seriously can’t figure out how to undo his stupid buckle, but he just lets you struggle. You think that he’s being nice as he pulls his finger away, allowing you a moment to think straight, but he brings the finger up and sticks it into your mouth. “Suck,” he says, low. You listen, sucking on his finger, trying to multitask and undo his buckle. “Sloppier, baby,” he coerces. You listen again, your fingers on his buckle stilling and focus on the spit drooling out of your mouth. He pulls the finger from your mouth and places it back between your lips, pressing harder into your clit and moving faster, pushing your panties in between your lips until your bare lips are exposed and your panties are bunched up between them, completely hidden. Kei’s finger slips past the panties, dipping into your flood for just a moment before running his finger back down the strip of your panties, pushing at your hole. Your moans are fluttering as you try to sink onto his fingers. He holds on in place harshly. 

He starts counting down. You’re confused, so confused. You don’t know why he’s counting down or what will happen when you reach the end of it, but you’re hoping for the finger to enter you. “3… 2… 1…” You close your eyes in anticipation, but he pulls his hands away completely. 

“I- Kei- No, please, why?” you beg.

“I told you what to do and you were too busy and concerned with what you wanted. Now I’m not going to touch you,” he says so matter-of-factly. You wanted to laugh. You thought it was a joke. You needed it to be a joke, but now Kei is taking off his own buckle, which he does in 10 seconds, might you add. He’s taking off his own belt, throwing it gently to the side and undoing his zipper and button. 

“Kei,” you whine, “It’s… It’s not fair.” You’re pouting. You know he doesn’t find it cute and amusing when you see his facial expressions. “It’s just… You were making me feel so good.”

He scoffs, “Just from that? Tadashi must be treating you worse than I thought.” Your cheeks burn at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. You want to tell him to stop saying his name, but you know he won’t listen to you anyways. Instead, you just nod at him. He laughs.

“Please, Kei. I couldn’t focus,” you complain, trying to excuse yourself, but he’s not listening or he doesn’t care or maybe both. He pulls down his jeans, only the thin fabric of his boxers are covering his hard, long member. You swallow, hard, looking at how big he is. Tadashi isn’t necessarily small, but he’s definitely not big, and more so, he’s definitely not this big. Your eyes are glued to Kei’s boxers as he pulls them down, releasing his cock. A gasp escapes your lips, a sharp inhale into your lungs as you truly take in how big he is. He’s not just long, but he’s thick. You’re getting even wetter as you think about everything you want to do to him and what you want him to do to you. 

“Can you listen this time?” he asks, condescendingly, a disgusted look on his face. You nod excessively, so quickly that your vision blurs. You’re ready to do anything that he asks you to do. You just want to touch his cock. He smirks at how eager you are. “Take your panties off for me, baby. Nice and slow. Turn around when you do it.” He knows exactly what he wants. 

You start pulling your panties down, slowly, like he’s asked of you. You want to have them completely off, but you know you have to listen to Kei especially after last time. When the panties are to your knees, you’re facing completely away from him. “Bend over.” His words are so commanding and harsh. You do as he says, bending over to pull your panties all the way down to the floor. You can feel how exposed your pussy is from behind in between your legs, can feel the air highlighting every inch of wetness.

You hear Kei step closer to you as you stand their frozen, your panties around your ankles. You can feel his cock graze in between your legs just briefly before he controls it, ensure that no part of you is touched. He leans forwards, pressing his hips against your ass and brushing his cock between your lips for the smallest fraction of a second. “What does Tadashi call you while he’s fucking you?” The question stuns you, your knees buckling and your heart beginning to race. You know that you’re almost fucking his best friend, but you don’t need to be reminded of him every few minutes. Still, you know that Kei wants an answer and you want Kei to be good to you, so you answer. 

“H- He calls me sweetheart,” you stutter. Kei actually laughs, stepping back away from you and holding his stomach as he repeats it. 

“He calls you sweetheart when he’s fucking you?” he asks, trying to make sure he heard that right. 

“Yes.” You suddenly feel more embarrassed at this admission than you do at the position you’re in. He grips onto your hips and you want him to enter you so badly, but instead he turns you around to face him and gently pushes you onto the bed, lying flat on your back, your head propped up against a pillow. 

“Spread em,” he gestures towards your legs as he spits into his own hand, slicking his cock as you spread your legs open, exposing yourself to Kei. 

Kei is towering overtop of you, a knowing smirk on his face as he moves the fist he’s made around his cock, stroking slowly, squeezing his hand as he gets to the head and letting the pressure off as he returns back to the base. You know how desperate you look underneath him. You don’t need to see it in his glasses to know, but you do, and it makes you even wetter. Your legs are spread apart, the breeze from the fan making you painfully aware of how warm and flooded you are and how erect your nipples are. Your hands are beside each retrospective hip, gripping onto the sheets, waiting for him to enter you, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even get closer. 

“Touch yourself,” Kei sneers. You don’t know what to do. You heard his words clearly, but your body isn’t making any move to do what he’s asked of you. You wanted Kei to touch you, you didn’t want to do it yourself. He takes a step towards you, his hand around his cock moving faster. “Let me see you play with yourself, sweetheart. Show me,” he coos, his tone changing to endearing in such a short amount of time. Hearing Kei call you what Tadashi calls you shakes your entire soul. You feel so conflicted but so hot. You want to hear it again. It sounds so much better coming out of his mouth. It makes you want to please him. You want to make him proud. 

You nod at him, timidly moving your hand down to clit and rubbing small, diffident circles into it. Your fingers don’t feel nearly as good as Kei’s did a few minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he’s watching you so intently either. It’s embarrassing to be completely open and on display like this, lying underneath someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but, rather, your boyfriend’s best friend, your best friend. You have to shake the thought out of your mind before your body doesn’t allow you to get off. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the sensations of your fingertips brushing against your swollen clit. Your eyes are only shut for a few seconds before Kei is clearing his throat. 

“Eyes open. Look at me,” Kei clarifies. His hand hasn’t stopped moving as he’s scanning your body, evidently very happy with what he sees. Even with this gorgeous sight in front of you, it’s hard for you to lose yourself in the moment being stared at so eagerly. “Both hands.” He tilts his chin up at you, gesturing at your hand that’s still gripped onto the sheets. 

With your other hand, you cup your tit, rolling your hard nipple in between your fingers while maintaining your pace with the other hand. “Good girl,” he says under his breath. A moan escapes you. He raises his eyebrow, cockiness seething from his smile. “Yeah? Are you my good girl?”

You nod obnoxiously, a strangled noise coming out of your throat as you move your attention from your nipples to your wet hole, teasing yourself with your fingertip. You’re getting into it now. The situation is weighing on you but in the best way possible. You look up at Kei and your mind is still screaming that he’s not your boyfriend, but the louder the voice gets inside your head, the wetter your desperate pussy gets. He’s not your boyfriend, but he’s here, watching you tease yourself and torture your own clit as he jerks off above you, because your boyfriend can’t get you off like Kei can; no one can get you off like Kei can. He knows it too. Even when you would try to get off in the bathroom after having sex with Tadashi, it never felt this fucking good. 

“Do you want to be a really good girl?” he asks, his hand now gently rubbing on your inner thigh. 

You know that he’s just using those words, that phrase, to get exactly what he wants, but it only makes you want him more. You would do anything to be good for him. You want him to use you, to satisfy his every need with any part of you that he wants to. “Please, please, Kei. I’ll do anything.” Your own voice surprises you at how desperate it sounds. 

“Sit up.” His tone has switched back to the harsh, commanding asshole that he was before as he grabs onto your arm right as you’re about to insert your finger fully into yourself. You let out a defeated sigh before sitting up, looking at him innocently. “Stay still,” he demands. Kei walks over to you, getting closer and closer until the tip of his head is pressed up against your lips. You go to open your jaw to take him into your mouth, but he stops you, holding your head still. 

“What did I say?” he growls at you, grasping a fistful of your hair as punishment. “Repeat it.” 

“Stay still,” you repeat, your lips opening slightly around his head, allowing some of the precome to line the inside of your lips. You want so badly to lick your lips, but you know that Kei wants you to just sit there, so you don’t move. Your head is still as he swipes the spongy head across your lips, stroking the length as he does so, causing more precome to drip out of the slit and onto your lips. He pushes forwards, but you keep your mouth still, the tip only entering into your mouth when he nestles it in there. It touches your closed teeth and you shutter, trying to keep as still as you can.

Kei moans as he drags his sensitive head across the fronts of your teeth, your cheek bulging as he slides it into the side of your mouth. The combination of his grunts, his hands in your hair, and the thought of him using you for his pleasure all have your pussy aching to be touched. You want to touch yourself so bad, but you know that Kei will be angry. 

“Open,” he finally tells you. You let your jaw fall open as you look up into his eyes, fluttering your lashes at him, but he doesn’t look at you like you’re adorable or cute or pretty, he looks at you like he’s starving. “Tongue out.” You instantly stick your tongue out. “Good girl.” Your pussy throbs. That’s all you wanted to hear from him. You want to hear it again. 

“Lick the precome from my slit, sweetheart.” There’s that name again, shaking your being. Kei positions his cock at the tip of your tongue. You’re not expecting the name and the specific language has you blushing. You do as you’re told, focusing the tip of your tongue to lick the precome from his slit. The salty sensation on your tongue makes your mouth water for more. Kei drags his head down your tongue before taking a step back. He hasn’t told you to move your head or your tongue, so you don’t, despite everything in your body telling you to whine and pout at how far away his cock is from your mouth now. You’re so focused on where his cock is that you don’t notice that he’s bent over towards you or the glob of spit that falls onto your tongue until it’s already coated it. 

You barely have any time to react, only savoring the taste for a moment, before Kei stands back up and rests as much of his cock as he can on your tongue without actually entering your mouth. The slickness of his spit on your tongue and your warm breath from panting causing Kei’s cock to pulse. You can feel it. Kei looks down at you and lets more spit drop from his tongue. You’re not sure if he missed or if this is where he was aiming, but the spit lands right beside your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. 

He’s thrusting his hips slowly, gliding the underside of cock across your tongue. Your jaw is already starting to ache from staying open so wide, but you don’t dare relax. It’s like Kei can read your mind. “Wider,” he grunts, angling the tip of his cock down. You force your jaw to open uncomfortably, but the smirk that Kei gives you is worth any amount of discomfort that you feel.

Kei gives you no warning as he forces his entire length down your throat in one swift movement, groaning as he feels how tight your throat is around him. You try to gasp in surprise, your gag reflex triggering as his cock slides down your throat, but he’s blocking your airway. You take in air from your nose, but it’s not enough. Kei doesn’t budge in the slightest, just strokes your hair as he mutters “good girl” over and over again. You focus on his words and your breathing and the fact that you’re making him feel good right now. 

“Tongue out,” he demands, his hands grabbing your hair now instead of stroking it. Your nose is pressed up against his stomach and your tongue is sticking out as far as you can force it out of your mouth. You can feel it grazing his balls, every time you flick your tongue, his grip in your hair gets tighter and his groans get more guttural. 

Drool is leaking out of the side of your mouth as Kei’s cock pulses in your throat. Your head feels light and you’re pushing back into Kei’s hands, desperately trying to get air. You need to get a good breath or you’re going to pass out. He pulls you off of his cock. You’re coughing and inhaling deeply several times trying to recover. Kei gives you these few seconds of reconciliation before starting to get annoyed. 

“Open,” he nods down to the spot that you were in before. You assume the same position, chin tilted up, tongue so far out that it’s painful, jaw aching from forcing it open so wide, your lips swollen and sheened with spit and precome. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You love to hear the praise coming out of his mouth. It’s making you drip. 

You’re expecting his cock, but see his eyes close to yours and now you can’t breathe for another reason. He spits in your open mouth, but not on your tongue this time. The spit goes directly down your throat and you let it slide all the way down. His fingers are wrapped around your throat putting pressure directly on your airway, quickly getting so tight that you can’t breathe again. “But I decide when I’m done with your throat. I decide when you get to breathe again. I decide when I pull your pretty fucking mouth off of me. You don’t get to make those decisions. If I want to fuck your throat until you pass out and keep fucking your throat when you’re unconscious on the floor, I’ll do that.” You want to moan at these sentences, at the thoughts that are now flooding your head, but you can’t. No noise comes out of your throat at all, it can’t. Your hand comes up and wraps around Kei’s wrists, your eyes roll back into your head as his grip gets tighter. He’s waiting intently to see if you want to tap out, but when he doesn’t feel any pressure against his wrist, he tightens even harder, his fingers shaking. “Do you understand?” he commands. You nod as best as you can. When he pulls his fist away, you take in so much air that your head starts to pulse. Your breaths can’t be large enough. “Now open.”

You assume the same position. Your breathing finally slows when he rests his balls on your tongue. You’d never done anything this dirty with Tadashi. This was foreign territory for you. “Suck.” You can feel him above you, stroking his cock as you take one of his balls into your mouth. The entire situation feels so dirty , but you can hear Kei’s moans and grunts and you never want to stop. You continue sucking, focusing on the ball in your mouth and your tongue against it. 

“Take both in your mouth, you fucking whore,” Kei says, getting into this very quickly. The degradation makes your clit throb and pussy clench. You open your mouth wider, taking the other ball into your mouth. Your mouth has never been this full before. Your nose is pressed against the underside of his cock, but you can barely focus on that. “Stop,” he grunts. You release both balls from your mouth with a pop , your tongue still sticking straight out, waiting for whatever he wants to do with you next. 

“Good girl. Deep breath” You listen to him. He slides his cock into your mouth as soon as you’ve taken a good breath, grunting at every inch that slides down your throat. He holds it there again. You close your eyes, focusing on your breathing, and making sure that you make it through. Then you feel a sting on your cheek, startling you. Kei’s palm had made contact with your cheek. Your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. Look up at me, sweetheart.” You moan around his cock and he inhales at the vibrations around his length. A single tear rolls down your cheek as the residual sting lingers. Your breathing is okay, manageable this time until Kei plugs your nose. 

“You better open your throat wider or I’ll have to fuck your unconscious body and you won’t be able to cum. It’ll be just like Tadashi, huh?” Your eyes open even more so at this sentence. Kei pulls his hips back, taking most of his length out of your throat before slamming back in. You missed your small window for air. You sit, patiently waiting for him to start moving again. You breathe as much as you can as soon as he pulls back. You’ve forced your jaw open even wider and have allowed your throat to open, allowing the smallest bit of air in. 

Kei’s thrusts into your throat get more and more frequent each time until he’s pistoning into your mouth. His hips are thrusting into you, abusing your poor throat, at such a fast speed. Every few thrusts, he buries his cock as deep in your throat as he can, holding it there until he feels you starting to fall, your eyes rolling back, and your jaw relaxing. 

“Gag on my cock,” he commands, continuing, “I want to feel you gag on my cock. It feels so good when I feel your abused throat constrict around my cock. I’m too big for you, aren’t I? You’re so used to small cocks, aren’t you, sweetheart? You can barely handle how fucking big I am.” It’s true. It’s all true. 

He hits the back of your throat, your body convulsing slightly as you gag. You can feel the muscles in your throat tighten around his cock. He loves the feeling so much that he does it again. And then again. Your stomach is twisting as he hits it for the 4th time. He glides his cock down your throat. The noises that he’s making are magical. 

“Swallow.” You swallow whatever liquids you can. “Yes, fuck,” he groans, “again.” You swallow again, significantly less fluid in your mouth. “Again.” You swallow again. “God, your throat feels so good, I might not even need to fuck you.” You can’t help but to whimper, swallowing again around his cock. “Fuck, I could just cum down your throat right now and leave you on the bed for when Tadashi comes home. Maybe he can help you.”

You want to shake your head no. You want to beg for him to stay, to touch you, just to tell you to cum. If he just told you to cum right now, you think you could. You’d do anything for him right now, but you can’t. You can’t do anything except let him use your throat for whatever he wants to use it for. He laughs at the panic in your eyes as he pulls out of your throat, stroking his cock above you. “Or maybe I won’t even use you to cum, huh? Maybe I’ll just make you watch as I blow my load onto your pretty face. Tadashi would love coming home to that, wouldn’t he?” 

You don’t know how to answer that, so you don’t. Kei doesn’t like that. You feel a sting across your cheek, harder this time. “I asked you a question.”

“I- N- No. No, he wouldn’t like that,” you answer truthfully, even though you don’t think it’s the answer that Kei wanted. It’s exactly the answer Kei wanted.

“But would you like it?” he smirks, waiting for your answer. He hasn’t stopped stroking his cock, moaning as he swipes his thumb over the head. “Don’t lie to me…,” he pauses, “sweetheart.” His smile is pure evil.

You nod timidly before verbalizing it. “Yes. I would like that a lot, Kei.” 

He laughs again, shaking his head. “Tch. Pathetic.” Your entire body feels warm and embarrassed. He leans over you, getting so close to your ear that his low whisper sounds like a scream. “It sucks that I want to ruin you, then, huh?” A shiver disperses through your entire body as you shake your head no. No, it definitely doesn’t suck that he wants to ruin you. 

“I want you, now.” Kei finally decides. He pushes you back on the bed again. “On your side.” You’re conscious of how little you know about sex positions, particularly ones where you lay on your side. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, laying almost completely on your right side, save for the small parts of your back that are touching the bed. He positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with your throbbing pussy. It hasn’t been touched since you didn’t listen to Kei. You know your hole is tight, but so lubricated that it’ll swallow him just as easily as your throat did. He takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder. 

He rubs his head in between your lips, pressing up against the hole. “Please.” It slips out of your mouth, but you’re not going to apologize for it. Kei rubs his thumb against your clit, using your own wetness to lubricate your swollen nub, his finger moving effortlessly against it. You can’t stop whimpering. 

He doesn’t stop to ask if you’re ready, or prep your hole with fingers, he just starts sliding into you. He’s not even halfway inside of you when you decide that you’ll never be this full again. It takes your breath away. You can’t breathe, but you’re trying. You’re gasping for air as he inserts his entire length into you. “Kei, Kei, Kei, fuck, Kei.”

“I haven’t even started fucking you, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss into your leg next to his face as he slides completely into you, not stopping until his hips are pressed up against you. You’re waiting for him to let you adjust to how thick he is inside of you, but he doesn’t. He starts moving almost instantly, rocking his hips backwards and then thrusting into you completely. You’ve never had anything so deep inside of you before, not even your own fingers or a dildo. 

Kei picks up the speed, rocking his hips into you repetitively, in such a rhythmic pattern that you’re already almost there. You know, and he does too, that all he has to do is angle just a bit down and he would be obliterating your g-spot. Even without it, you can feel your arousal heightening so high. His thumb is still rubbing circles into your clit. “Kei- Kei, I think, I-,” you breathe, stuttering over your words, so filled with cock and pleasure that your head is foggy. 

“Already? You’re already going to cum? God, you really are starved of some good cock, aren’t you?” he teases, picking up speed even more. “I’m not even hitting your g-spot. I’m not ready yet. You’re going to cum without me even trying?”

You know you should feel embarrassed, but you’re not. You have no shame in letting yourself go. “Fuck, Kei, I’m coming, fuck.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. Your head presses back so far into the bed that you know how messy your hair is going to be. Your toes curls and your knuckles are white against the sheets. The entire time, no noise comes out of you, despite your mouth being completely agape. The pleasure is obliterating you. You can’t think of anything at all except for the pleasure. How good everything feels. Kei hasn’t stopped fucking you. He’s slamming into you as you ride your orgasm to completion. As soon as you’ve stopped cumming, you want to cum again. You need him to make it happen again. 

“I’m not stopping until I’m finished. If that means that you’ve cum so many times that your orgasms hurt by the last one, then so be it,” he thrusts into you again and again. His hand has moved from your clit and is instead wrapped around your leg, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder. Every time you think he can’t fuck you harder, he proves you wrong. He’s almost growling at this point, fucking you so deep and hard that you exhale every time he pounds into you. 

“You’ll never cum from anyone else again,” he slams into you, “Every other guy that you ever take will never compare to me, will never be as good as me. Their cocks won’t fit inside you like mine does. They won’t fill you up as much as I can. I’m ruining you. I don’t even think you’ll be able to make yourself cum after this. Every time you want to feel pleasure, real pleasure, you’ll have to call and beg for it. When you’re in bed with Tadashi, so late at night, and he’s sleeping next to you, you’re going to have to call me and beg to meet up with me so that I can get you off.” His words are just making you get closer again. You know that he’s just talking dirty to you, but you know how much truth weighs in those words. He’s right. 

“You know that, don’t you?” he asks, breathless from how relentlessly he’s fucking into you. 

You nod at the sentence, still thinking repetitively over the words he said to you and how true each of them is. Kei reaches down to start rubbing your clit again. He can see you’re close. He can feel that you’re close. Your pussy is gripping his cock, the rigid, wet walls milking him as you have your second orgasm.

“Yes, yes, Kei, fuck. I’ll never feel this full ever again. Please, please, will you fill me after this time? Please, I can’t imagine never fucking you again. Please,” you moan through your orgasm. You want confirmation of something to look forward to. You need him again. 

He laughs at how unapologetic you are at begging for him again before he’s even finished with you. He doesn’t answer but instead asks a question. “Tadashi fucks you doggy style, sometimes, doesn’t he?” He fucks you through the end of your orgasm. 

You nod, hesitantly, still blown away by cumming twice already. “Sometimes,” you reply. Kei snickers. 

“On all fours,” he directs you. “I was serious when I said I wanted to ruin you, baby.”

You assume the position on all fours, a position that Tadashi will sometimes have you take him in. You’ve never understood the hype around this position, but you’re hoping Kei teaches you. A sting spreads from your ass as Kei spanks you. You’re already feeling the hype. You whimper. 

“Again?” he asks, smirking. You nod, wanting to feel the pain but knowing that he’s going to do it regardless. He spanks you again, harder this time. He doesn’t ask if you want it again, just spanks you for a third time, even harder. You won’t be able to sit tomorrow if he continues on. You kind of want him to continue on. You’re not met with another sting, but Kei’s cock thrust completely inside of you until his hips are pressed against your ass in one motion. You choke on your own breath, coughing in surprise. 

He brings his hands up and snakes one into your hair, grabbing a fistful, and the other on your shoulder, using it to pull you back onto him. You hear your skin slap against his, hard. You can feel the sting on your ass from where Kei spanked you as it smashes against his thigh. He’s so deep inside you, you think you can feel him in your stomach. 

Kei’s chest goes flush against your back. He whispers into your ear, “The next time he’s fucking you, you’re going to say my name.” It’s almost hypnotic, how low and intriguing his voice is. “You won’t be able to get me out of your mind,” he tells you, each thrust into you punctuating his words. He straightens back up, gripping your hips as he fucks into you. His fingertips are going to leave bruises. “Do you know why?”

You shake your head no. You want him to tell you why. You want him to say anything to you, anything at all. 

“Because you’re my bitch,” he says so seriously, moving quicker as your wetness grew, slicking him even more at the sentence, “and Tadashi has never hit this…” Kei thrusts, angled into your g-spot. The sensation makes it feel like lava has erupted in your stomach. “and it’s all you’re going to think about when you’re in this position.” He knows exactly where it is and he won’t stop smashing the head of his cock into it repetitively. “How this is what it could’ve felt like, but he’ll never make you feel like this. So you’ll be thinking of me the entire time and you’re going to say my fucking name.”

It’s too much. Everything about this situation is too much. You’re speechless. You’re aware of every part of your body that Kei has gripped onto or smacked. Your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even know what’s happening, only that Kei’s cock feels so good against your walls and slamming into your g-spot. You feel a warm sensation run down your legs slowly at first, but then explode onto the sheets beneath you and Kei’s cock and his lap as you scream for him. “Kei! Fuck! Yes, Kei. I won’t ever think of anyone else. Only you. Only you, Kei, fuck. Oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you just squirted all over my fucking cock, fuck.” For the first time tonight, Kei sounds like he can barely speak. He can’t think of a witty retort about how good he made you feel, he can only keep repeating those words. “Fuck, you squirted so fucking much all over me, baby. Fuck, good girl. Fuck.” He pulls himself out of you. If it weren’t for the mind-blowing orgasm you just had that you need a minute to recover from, you would’ve whined endlessly until he was back inside of you. Kei looks so focused right now and you’re realizing that his hand is on his cock, wrapped around right where his head meets his shaft, squeezing, not stroking. His chest is heaving and he’s swallowing excessively. He had to stop himself from cumming too early. (Define too early?) He’s made you cum 3 times already, feeling your pussy tighten around him as he didn’t even stutter, and has fucked you for over an hour, not even mentioning the abuse your throat went through.

You think he’s waiting for the sensation to pass before entering back inside you, but he drops to his knees, pulling your hips towards him. “You’ve earned this, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin. You feel his nose press up against your ass, his tongue sticking out and licking from your clit to your hole. He doesn’t use the tip like Tadashi does, he uses the flat side of his tongue, exploiting every part of the surface of his tongue. Your arms shake as he sticks his tongue into your hole, fucking it, moving his face back and forth. “Fuck, Kei.” 

He moves back down to your clit, flicking it with the tip this time, fast, before sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue over it again and again as he suctions onto it. “Holy fuck. Oh my God.” Your face is down in the bed, your arms refusing to support you anymore. The sounds that are coming from behind you are almost enough to make you cum on their own. Kei is slurping all of the juices that he’s created since he first started touching you.  You can’t see him, but the sounds are incredible. You can’t see him. 

“Kei, Kei, can I lay on my back? Can I see your face? I want to see your face.” You know you’re not in any position to ask him for anything, but you hope he listens to you. You want to watch him eat you out so badly. He hums into your pussy, nodding as he flips you over, spreading your legs even further. He looks up at you, his mouth completely clamped over your entire pussy, his tongue working particularly hard, creating an insane amount of pressure on your clit, swirling around it, in between your lips and slit, fucking into your hole as deep as he can. His eyes never leave yours. You try to keep up with him, but it’s too fucking much. Your head falls backward, staring up at the ceiling. Kei’s arms reach up, grabbing onto your tits, rolling both of your nipples between his long fingers.

“Look at me,” he mumbles into your pussy quickly before continuing his expertise. You listen to him. It’s the least you can do. You look at him, your eyes watering at the pleasure that he’s creating for you. It sounds so messy, so sloppy, so fucking good . 

“Don’t- Don’t stop. ‘M gonna-,” you moan so loudly that it scares you as Kei works even harder, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling it softly before using his entire mouth, his lips, his nose, his chin to rub against your pussy, spitting on it repeatedly to slick it up. “Fuck!” you’re screaming now and you can’t help the sensation release from you again, the clear liquid spraying from between your legs onto Kei’s face. You can’t even feel apologetic, but you don’t think he wants you to. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit through your orgasm, you clench your thighs together, completely overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps rubbing your clit through the pain and into another wave of pleasure that quickly crashes into another orgasm. You’ve never come that quickly together before. There’s no squirt this time, only insane pleasure washing over you as you pant and scream Kei’s name. 

You’re out of breath. You can barely move. You’re so tired from all of the times that you’ve come, but you know how hard Kei is and you know how badly you want his fucking cum. 

“I want to be all the way inside of you,” Kei states. You’re confused and he can see the confusion on your face as he cleans his glasses with the blankets on the bed. 

“How? I mean, like, weren’t you… already all the way inside me?” you ask him, innocently.

“Deeper,” he says, laying down on the bed next to you and flipping you on top of him so your soaked pussy lips are wrapped around his length. He grunts at the feeling. You lift off of him as much as you can muster with how weak you’re feeling right now. He helps you, grabbing onto your ass and lifting gently until you’re up high enough for him to line himself up with your hole. 

“Sit,” he commands. You listen to him for the millionth time tonight, lowering yourself onto his cock. His cock hasn’t grown since he fucked you doggy style, but it feels so much bigger. It’s so much deeper inside of you as you’re seated on his cock. Your walls grip him on the way down.

“Fuck, you’re tight. How does Tadashi last so long in you?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know. 

You laugh for the first time all night, “He doesn’t.”

He holds onto your hips, looking up at you and how breathtaking you are. Your tits are out, moving with every breath that you take. It makes Kei’s cock twitch inside of you. “Bounce on my cock, baby.” He’s asking so much of you with the state that you’re in right now, but he knows you’ll listen to him. “Be a good girl. Bounce on my cock. I’ve done all the work tonight, sweetheart.” That’s all it takes. You get a sudden surge of energy as you nod, using your knees in the bed as springs to slide up and down his cock. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. His fingernails dig into you again, bruising the already bruised skin. How are you going to explain all of these marks to Tadashi? You don’t even care at this point. You want Kei to keep making more. He’s guiding you up and down, though you’re doing most of the work. “Faster, baby, fuck.”

You listen. You bounce up and down on his cock faster, getting higher before slamming down against his lip. Your tits are bouncing just as wildly. He moves his hands from his hips to your tits, grabbing onto them and massaging them as you milk his cock. You purposefully tighten around him on the way up and relax on the way down. Your tight pussy desperately gripping at each inch of his length, coaxing the cum out of his cock. “God, fuck. Milk my cock, baby, yes.” Kei’s lines are becoming less demanding and more appreciative. They’re still commanding, but less harsh. He moves his hands back to your waist, lifting you almost completely off his cock, your head only tightly squeezing his head. 

“Ready?” he asks. The bliss on his face is still there, but there’s so much devilish intent now too. You don’t have time to ask questions or to even tell him yes as he fucks up into you. His hips are moving so quickly up that even though your body isn’t moving, the ripples of energy are tearing through you, shaking them violently. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Kei.” You’re already there. You’re already ready to cum just from penetration alone. 

“Not yet.” This is the hardest demand yet for you to listen to. “You can only cum when you feel my load fill you up.” You swallow hard, but nod frantically. 

He’s grunting so loudly as he claps into your pussy from underneath you. He’s getting so deep inside of you with every thrust. You’re speechless. You’re so on the edge the entire time that he’s fucking you like this that you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls you down completely on his cock and stops thrusting for a second. He’s breathing heavy as he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his chest, his cock still just as deep inside of you, but this time when he fucks into you, he hits you g-spot on the first thrust. “Kei, Kei, Kei,” you can’t stop saying his name, “I can’t- I can’t hold it.” You barely even notice the tears running down your cheeks as the pleasure is so built up inside of you. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck, almost.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, his cock is pulsating, you feel so fucking good wrapped so tightly around his cock, but he needs to feel you cum. He needs to feel your pussy tense up as he drills into you, knowing that he’s the reason you look so pretty, your face contorting from pure pleasure. He wants to feel you milk him, coaxing his big fucking load out of his balls and deep inside you. He can make you cum. He doesn’t have to ask you. He can just make you cum, even despite you trying to be such a good girl and listen for him. 

He holds your hips steady, slowing down for a few seconds, catching his own breath, letting himself relax. You’re both grateful and so sad about this. You’re grateful because you would have cum just then, but you’re sad because you wanted to cum so bad it hurt. He stills for a second and then he’s fucking into you again, but differently this time. His arms are shaking from holding you down against him so tightly, not letting you move, despite your numerous attempts to squirm, as he thrusts up into your tight, aching pussy mercilessly. You’re sobbing into his shoulder.

“I- I- I can’t hold it, Kei, please.” You’re trying to be so good for him. It’s making his balls tighten, but he doesn’t want to come yet. He can’t come until you milk it out of him. Do it. Cum, he thinks as he picks up speed, like sprinting the last half mile of a marathon. It’s as much as he can give and he wants it to be enough to push you over the edge without having to ask. You’ll feel so much better tightening around him while you apologize to him for not listening. 

“I’m going to cum, Kei, please, please, please, I’m sorry, fuck. I can’t hold it any longer,” the string of words come out so fast that they practically overlap each other. You cum around his cock, your pussy throbbing, gripping so tightly onto his cock as he keeps up the intensity of his thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you scream out. You start repeating his name over and over again, unable to think of anything else in the world. 

With your pussy clamping so hard down on his cock, it’s exactly what he needs. He feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing inside of you as his hips start to stutter messily. “Fuck, sweetheart, fuck, you’re making me cum, fuck,” he grunts, snapping his hips into you as hard as he can as he unloads inside of you, strings of cum filling up your insides, squeezing out of your pussy as he tries to fuck them deeper into you, but has already overfilled your abused pussy. He’s still cumming, feeling it leak out of his cock, when he pulls his cock from your pussy, letting it land on your ass and back down on his own cock. He slides his cock back into your pussy, going as deep as he can as before exhaling a final breath. 

You’re both quiet for a second, not talking about anything that just happened, just breathing. You’re still pressed up against his chest, cum dripping out of your pussy and onto Kei. You know that you should both clean up, but you’ve never been this tired in your life. You can’t even roll off of him and you don’t think he could push you off. 

“When will Tadashi be home?” he asks, panting, trying to regain himself. 

“He doesn’t get back until tomorrow morning,” you hum happily, listening to his accelerated heartbeat. You don’t move, but he doesn’t ask you to move. Your breathing is more irregular than his is as you close your eyes. “Can we nap? I need to nap. That took so much out of me.”

Kei’s quiet for a moment. There’s no laugh or retort, he just nods, wrapping his arms around your waist and stroking your hair. He grabs the cleanest blanket that he can from where he’s pinned to the bed, draping it over top of both of you. You hum at the warmth. He knows that this is a part of the whole degradation thing, the comforting at the end. That’s why he’s doing it.

“Goodnight, Kei,” you smile up at him lazily, kissing his chest before laying it back down. “Oh, wait, Kei,” you look back up at him. 

“Hm?”

That’s why he’s doing it. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, blinking slowly. You’re so tired that you don’t even notice his heart skip a beat as you thank him. 

Right?

[melanieph321]

Can you make a pedri/ Barcelona x hollywood actress fic? Where the actress and her castmates come to Barcelona to promote the show worldwide and they go to barcelona and have to do like those challenges the players do , on YouTube or an fun interview, or both of them mixed?

This one was a little bit difficult for me. I've never heard of the show Worldwide and doing the research would be too much for a one shot. However, you inspired me to write something else for Pedri instead.

I hope you still enjoy! ❤️

10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 3)

Pedri Gonzalez - Between Two Brothers Part 1/2

PART 2

Summary - Pedri and his little brother, Hugo, has a crush on the same person.

Enjoy! 😊

There's nothing Pedri wouldn't do for his little brother Hugo. He was his flesh and blood. His partner in crime, and if everything went well for Hugo in the Barça Youth Academy, he could be Pedri's future teammate one day.

It would be an honor playing football alongside his younger brother. Hugo was skilled both off and on the pitch, with a left foot that threatened to put a hole in the back of the net. His brain sharper than any eleven year old Pedri has ever met.

Perhaps that's why it seemed a bit out of character for Hugo to be so forgetful these days. Misplacing training gear, cleats, waterbottles, you name it. Or this morning, when Hugo claimed to have forgotten to pack the sandwiches that had been prepared for him by their mother.

"Why are we doing this again?" Pedri asked, in the mids of their local supermarket.

"I need a snack between training sessions." Hugo explained and thoroughly scanned the grocery shelves for something edible.

"Donuts are not a snack." Pedri objected, skeptically peering into the grocery basket that his brother was carrying.

"They can be." Hugo insisted.

"Nah. I'm pretty sure they count as a dessert, or a sweet treat."

"No, it's a snack." Hugo said resolute.

Pedri chuckled. "Whatever you say."

After paying for his brother's items at the supermarket, Pedri and Hugo made the journey towards Ciutat Esportiva, the official training ground for FC Barcelona. The brothers made the journey by foot, perhaps to resemble the days of old when Pedri would walk his little brother to school, that neither of them attended anymore.

Walking to training added a sense of normality. Although, the brothers were well aware that they were living a life far from normal for other boys their age. Hugo, who was still adjusting to this fact, while in awe of his brother Pedri, who never seemed to be startled or annoyed at people who stopped and stared at them in the street. Some people, mostly girls, would even cross the busiest roads with Barça jerseys and banners in hand, begging for Pedri to sign them. This wasn't normal to Hugo, who understood that playing for the Barça U11 squad wasn't as prestigious as playing for the first team like his brother.

Nonetheless, what girls saw in his older brother, Hugo, couldn't seem to fathom. Pedri neither had the looks or the charm, and once he grew older and maybe a few inches taller, Hugo would finally be able to say that his brother neither had the skills or the stamina compared to himself, at least on the football pitch.

"Won't your coach be angry seeing you eat those?" Pedri was referring to the donuts, and no, Coach Menendez wouldn't mind. Hugo was betting his pride on it.

"No, she won't." He replied. "My coach likes jam donuts, she even said so herself."

"She?" Pedri arched his brows.

"Erm, yeah." Hugo felt how his face turned red under the Barcelona sun. And it didn't help that his brother kept looking at him as if Hugo should have more to say about the matter.

"So the Donuts is for your coach, not you?"

"Dammit." Hugo muttered to himself. Now he had to unravel his lies. He did so without raising his eyes from the street. "Erm....no, not really. Their for me....as a snack."

"But...?"

Without meeting his eyes Hugo could sense the grin on his brother's lips.

"No buts." He shirped. "I just thought it would be kind of me to share them with her, that's all."

"Very kind indeed." Pedri muttered. "She must be a very special coach."

"You have no idea."

PART 2

DON'T MISS - 10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 1)

(DAY 2)