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#it's hard to feel that there's still so much for me to learn
thebibliosphere · 2 days
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Calling you out for excellent self-talk strategies.
I’ve noticed in your posts about ongoing health that you often finish up with something along the lines of “I am experiencing Situations and Limitations, and this is ok. It is unpleasant, but still ok”
(Ok as in morally neutral, not as in everything is fine and normal and should be ignored)
And like… I can’t articulate how much I appreciate seeing that. It’s helpful as an outsider to see things put into context like that, and it’s also excellent modeling. Because I try so hard to talk to myself the same way, but sometimes it’s… just… really hard. And seeing other people using the same words makes it feel a tiny bit easier, for me, like it’s a little more real. And maybe it is actually ok.
Thank you for noticing, and I’m glad it’s something you find validating.
It’s actually something I’ve learned from radical acceptance therapy.
Too many people think that acceptance means either giving up or that you’ve found a way to be positive about something, when in reality it is a neutral stance.
I work daily to accept the curve balls my complex health needs throw at me. I am not happy about them, and nor do I need to be.
I refuse to embrace toxic positivity and say I am thankful for the challenges I overcome because I am not. No one needs to be thankful for surviving suffering. You are not obligated to find meaning in your pain.
It can just be something that is.
But nor should I view myself as negative.
I can acknowledge that I have negative feelings toward it, but I refuse to assign moral value to my situation because health is morally neutral. I will not berate myself with shoulda, coulda, woulda. That’s the path to madness and one I’ve been down many times before.
It’s far more healthful for me to say, “wow, this sucks. What can I do in this moment to care for myself that is realistic and mindful of my limitations?” and move on from there.
Sometimes the answer is “nothing” in which case I accept that all I can do is rest and be kind to myself over it.
It’s hard. But it’s a skill worth learning.
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sxcretricciardo · 3 days
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not the same
The sun is shining brightly over the go-karting track, a perfect day for racing. The smell of burning rubber, the distant hum of engines revving, and the lively chatter of parents fill the air. You stand beside Max, watching your little boy, Leo, zip around the track with a focused expression that’s eerily similar to Max’s when he's behind the wheel. Leo's been karting since he could walk, and every time he hits the track, it’s like watching a younger version of Max, pure talent and determination radiating from him.
Max is beaming, pride visible in his eyes as he watches Leo expertly navigate the course. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you lean into him, feeling the excitement of the race. But today isn’t just any day. Jos, Max’s father, has come to watch his grandson for the first time. It’s a big moment, both for Leo and for Max, who has a complicated history with his dad.
The final lap is underway, and Leo is in second place. You can see how hard he’s pushing, how badly he wants that win. His little hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his helmet bobbing as he leans into each curve. But the kid in first place has just a little more speed, and as they cross the finish line, Leo’s kart comes in second.
You’re about to cheer for Leo anyway—second place is still amazing for a four-year-old—but before you can, you notice the tension stiffening Max beside you. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. Jos is walking over to Leo’s kart, and you can feel the unease rolling off Max in waves.
Leo pulls off his helmet, his brown curls damp with sweat, and looks up at his grandfather, expecting praise or at least a smile. But Jos doesn’t offer either. Instead, his face is hard, disappointed.
“What happened out there?” Jos says, his voice low and sharp, just loud enough for Leo to hear.
Leo’s small face falls, his bright eyes clouding with confusion. He’s only four, too young to understand the weight behind the words, but he knows enough to feel the sting.
“I—I tried, Grandpa…” Leo stammers, looking down at his feet, his tiny hands fiddling nervously with his gloves. “I tried really hard…”
“You tried? That’s not good enough,” Jos snaps. “Your father wouldn’t settle for second place at your age. You need to push harder, be better.”
You feel your heart twist as Leo’s shoulders slump, his little body sinking under the weight of his grandfather’s disappointment. Before you can step in, Max is already there, his tall frame looming over his father protectively.
“Dad,” Max’s voice is low and dangerous, “back off.”
Jos straightens, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “He needs to learn. You didn’t get to where you are by accepting second place, Max.”
“This isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about you,” Max says, stepping closer to his father, his hand on Leo’s shoulder now. “He’s *four*. He’s doing amazing, and I’m proud of him. You don’t get to tear him down the way you did with me.”
Leo looks up at Max, his big blue eyes—so much like his father’s—filled with uncertainty. “Daddy, I—”
Max kneels down in front of Leo, cutting off his words gently. “You did great today, Leo. You were fast, you were smart, and I’m so proud of you. It doesn’t matter if you came in second. What matters is that you gave it everything.”
Leo’s face brightens slightly, reassured by Max’s words. But Jos isn’t done.
“You’re too soft on him, Max. He needs to learn how to win, not just be content with second place. If you keep coddling him—”
“I’m not coddling him,” Max snaps, standing up again to face his father. His voice is colder now, angrier. “I’m teaching him that it’s okay to enjoy racing, that he doesn’t have to be perfect every time. He’s not me, Dad. And I won’t let you do to him what you did to me.”
Jos glares at Max, his expression hardening. “I made you a champion.”
“No,” Max says quietly, but with steel in his voice. “You made me scared of failing. I won’t let Leo feel that. He’s going to race because he loves it, not because he’s afraid of disappointing you.”
The tension between father and son crackles in the air, the years of unresolved resentment bubbling up to the surface. You step forward, placing a hand on Max’s arm, grounding him. You know how much it took for him to confront Jos like this, how deep those scars run.
Jos opens his mouth to argue, but then he looks at Leo, who’s clinging to Max’s leg, wide-eyed and unsure. Something shifts in Jos’s expression, a flicker of regret maybe, but it’s quickly masked by his usual stern demeanor.
“This is a mistake,” Jos mutters, shaking his head before turning away and walking off without another word.
Max lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But when he looks down at Leo, his expression softens immediately. He crouches down again, pulling Leo into a hug.
“You did awesome today, buddy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”
Leo nods against his father’s chest, his small arms wrapping tightly around Max. “Okay, Daddy. I just want to be fast like you.”
Max chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. “You already are, kiddo.”
You kneel beside them, wrapping your arms around both of them, feeling the warmth and love in the moment, despite the lingering tension from Jos’s words.
Max meets your eyes over Leo’s head, and you can see the mixture of emotions there—anger, protectiveness, but most of all, a deep love for the family he’s built with you.
“He’s not going to grow up the way I did,” Max says softly, more to himself than to you, but you nod in agreement, squeezing his hand. “He’s going to grow up knowing he’s enough, no matter what.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the sound of engines still roaring on the track, you know that Max is right. Your little boy is loved, and that’s what matters most.
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cerise-on-top · 3 days
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hi sunshine 🤍 could you possibly do T141 with a hyper-independent S/O?! I’m hyper-independent and sometimes it can get very overwhelming and it would be nice to have someone try to break down my walls to help me understand that i can ask others for help!! sending all the love💕 Thank you!!
Hey there, sure I can!
TF141 with a Hyper Independent S/O
Price: I don’t think Price was too traumatized as a child, so he probably can’t relate to you very well. Maybe to the slightest degree since he, as a captain, is often seen as an authority figure, who needs to be relied on and make all the decisions. It’s not often that he gets to shut off his brain a little and be left alone. But all of that comes from his work environment, not because he was neglected as a child. I think he’d notice fairly quickly how you don’t seem to ask him for anything, ever. Not to get you a small snack, not to ask him what tomorrow’s weather might be, not to help you build that IKEA furniture. Truth be told, he’ll feel as though he’s failed as a boyfriend since his love language is acts of service. He wants to do things for you, but you don’t let him. It would annoy him at first, but he wants this to work, so he’ll talk to you about it. You’d have to be honest with him, or else I can’t see things working out for you both. If you are, then he’ll try his best to be more observant, try to find out what you like and don’t like. He’ll give you as much attention as you want whenever he can and always ask you if there’s some task that hasn’t been finished yet. You need to calm down a little bit, he does want you to rely at least a little on him. Even if it’s just something along the lines of letting him wash your clothes for once. He wants you to relax, to take some time off for yourself so you can recharge. I know it’s hard for you, but he’ll continue to communicate with you. However, you need to do the same for him too. He doesn’t want your relationship to fall apart because of something like this.
Gaz: His parents did not love him after some time, so he had to learn to rely on himself because absolutely no one would do anything at all for him. And yet, he still became successful. So yeah, I think he could relate to you. Though, I think he was able to stop himself from becoming hyper independent somewhere along the way when he was just about to break yet again. I think he would ask you for things here and there. Nothing big, he’s just self-sufficient that way, but he will ask you to cook him a certain meal when he gets home late or maybe draw him a bath. Naturally, he would do the same things and so much more for you, if you ever asked. And yet, you take it upon yourself to do everything on your own. He could probably see himself in you a little bit, which is why he’d approach you and talk to you about it. He can tell you’re not doing too well. That’s probably one of the first times he’ll open up to you about his past as well, to show you you’re not alone. He’ll ask you how he can help, how he can take this burden off your shoulders and help you become a happier person. He will go to great lengths to show you that you can rely on him. It’s okay if you can’t ask him for help right away, he’ll make sure to always tell you that he’s there for you and will try to help you with whatever it is you’re doing, whether it be finishing a report or trying to help you cope with the inherent isolation that comes with being hyper independent. I think, in a way, helping you would help heal his inner child as well. He wasn’t cared for for a long time, so it’s nice to care for you instead. He had no one for a long time either and it wasn’t good for him, so he would do whatever he could to help you through it all. He’s a very patient man too, so there’s that.
Ghost: Ah yes, the king of trauma himself. As you can probably tell, he’ll also be able to relate to you since he was actively abused as a child and doesn’t trust anyone around him, that isn’t the 141, Nikolai, Laswell or you. He does everything on his own, and I don’t think he’ll ever ask you for anything either. Maybe a simple “Do you have a quid? I wanna buy that tea.” but nothing more than that. So it’s probably gonna be difficult for the both of you to admit that something is wrong with you. Chances are you’ll break before him, though, and will be caught having a mental breakdown. If you’re honest with him, then that’s the first time he’ll realize that being like this is, indeed, not normal. He doesn’t want to see you breaking down and crying because you’ve been isolating yourself this much and can’t trust anyone. I don’t think he’ll be able to help you. Sure, he’ll suggest leaving some things to him here and there since he is a very competent man, who refuses to let you down, but he doesn’t really know what to say. At all. So I think he’ll probably make the suggestion of the both of you going to therapy together. I think the therapist will make him realize that he is not, by any means, “normal” and will tell him what might be wrong with him, but that’s for another time. I think he’d try to work it out with you somehow, trying to be more open to set an example for you, as uncomfortable as it might seem for him. He will reward you for “good behavior”, though, such as asking him to clean the bathroom since you were too burnt out that day. He’ll get you some ice cream. Your favorite flavor too, naturally, since he wants this to become a common occurrence. And he, in turn, will try to ask you for help here and there too. Mostly comfort. But he’ll try, just for you.
Soap: Another lil fella, who had a loving family. Sure, his parents sometimes ignored him when he became too loud and rowdy. But other than that? His childhood was pretty alright. He got into a lot of fights, though. Little Johnny never knew when enough was enough. However, he grew up to be a fine and observant man. He knows what you like and how you like it. Do you like your tea with sugar, honey or milk? He doesn’t even need to ask since he already knows. He will do what he can to help you however he can. He knows he’s a damn fine boyfriend, who will make your life as easy as possible. …except, for some reason, his plans aren’t working out? You avoid him more and more the more he does for you, and for no apparent reason as well? Oh, he’s pissed, but will talk to you about it. “Bonnie, you know I love you, right? So why do you avoid me like the plague?” Once he realizes why you’re the way you are, you can count on him being pissed beyond compare. You need to hold him back if you don’t want him to call your caretakers and insult them in a way only an angry Scot can. At that point, he’ll vow to himself to become an even better boyfriend. He’ll remind you that he’ll do absolutely anything for you. And he keeps his word as well. He’ll bring you coffee, he’ll buy groceries, he’ll deck someone for you. Just give him the word, please. However, he’ll be super proud of you if you ever do ask him for help and will give you a big hug and a few kisses. Baby steps, as he always says. He loves you more than anyone else, so naturally he’ll be patient with you and help you however he can. Even if it’s just a small reminder that he could do it instead.
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usagifuyusummer · 2 days
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I LOVE your picture of Timmy in a victorian era dress! He looked so pretty!
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This isn't his default design for this AU tho. (There's a lot that's still in development on this concept/aspect of his character honestly.)
Nonetheless, I will attempt to draw his default outfit in the next concept piece. There's a lot that I have to handle in real life currently, so it'll probably be in progress for a long while. (Like, I have to prepare for a family outing this weekend, plus next semester uni preparation stuff for this October.)
Still, I took the time to draw this short (stupid) comic lol because I felt appreciated by this comment! I actually took a lot of time studying and finding inspiration from childrens clothing of that era when designing this alt outfit of Timmy. Like, you can Google the outfits online, and you'll notice which garments I took lol. Except, for the bonnet part. You have the OG show to thank for that. (I've decided to include the bonnet too, because it is an existing wear during those times, plus Timmy's outfits most of the time will include a type of hat, so that cemented my decision on utilising the bonnet with this alt wear.)
I am actually quite unsure if Timmy has ever been complimented as "pretty" or good-looking in the OG show before? Like, most of the time, I remember a lot of insults about his little pink hat or his large rabbit teeth, but why can't I remember anyone complimenting him? Hm, maybe it's because of the dark comedy and mean-spirited vibes the show has that I can't recall much on this?
Initially, I had a hard time coming up with how he should respond to such a positive comment because I didn't remember instances of that happening too frequently in the show. So, in the end, I've decided to just make his response be neutral-ish (with hints of his low-self esteem) and also attempt to include Cosmo and Wanda's fae mishevious behaviour or goofing off attitude in this short comic.
I do notice from the show that Timmy is actually quite shy, but I'm not sure if he responds shyly to positive comments about himself. This means that I have to hit the books more, study the characters (by watching the show) and the related concepts when in the middle of thinking and formulating about this AU.
So yeah, this is a baby's early attempt at trying to write and understand how the characters work and bounce off each other lol. I think my writing still looks stilted and off, but I'll try to learn from the mistakes I've made as I progress on my creative works. And as this AU is still in development, a lot of things might change. (This short comic is considered a practice round.)
Credits: This AU (Victorian Era FOP) and Cosmo and Wanda redesigns are originally by @keyintheeye-blog.
Overall, thank you for the kind comment anonymous person! It made me feel appreciated about the efforts I took on that piece. I hope you like this silly attempt at a short comic I made to express my gratitude to your comment. Have a nice day anonymous! 💐
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nekovmancer · 3 days
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overwatch headcanons: how they say "I love you" with Ramattra, Reaper, Reinhardt, Cassidy and Hanzo
a bit angsty and some curse words ahead, but still sfw. don’t blame me, I enjoy the suffering and since you're still reading I bet you also do
also silly little juno was SMASHED by writer’s block again, please help sending a headcanon request, but read rules first
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Ramattra
doesn’t say it at all, actually
he was shaped for violence, hands carefully constructed to murder
the sentience came with grief, sorrow, rage… but love? this big fella doesn’t even love himself, to begin with
it’s hard for him to cope with affection, to learn the aspects of it, mostly the very subtle nuances of reciprocation
but it’s you, and since you came along, this foreign feeling haunts him 
and when you say “I love you” first… he’s so silent you’re scared you’ve broken him with this three words alone
“How is it possible for you to love a being as myself?”
he feels the urge to say something back, but simply can’t vocalize the words he’s dying to say
you know he’s overwhelmed already, his pride contrasting his feelings, so you don’t push him too far: Ramattra shows you enough
but your words echoes in his systems for days
in one of these, he’s with you as he always do before you fall asleep, and the words just came out
“I may not have a heart, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be mine: it would be yours. It always has been.”
it’s not an explicit I love you
no, it’s much better
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Reaper
you know what happens between you two must stay secretive
it’s… casual, if you can name it such
I mean, he comes to you every damn night, and most of them aren’t for sex, but for company 
and the cuddles, of course
you see him past the scars, the shadows… what lies beneath it as the ghost of a man 
and you love him nonetheless
despite all the danger that comes along with him being one of Talon’s counselors and a declared enemy to Overwatch
until one night, when he doesn’t show up and never let you know why
and this one night turns into tons
you’re broken, to say at least
he avoids you, not even a single stolen glance through briefings, no more missions together
you don’t know where you manage to find the courage to confront him, but somehow you do, so you’re cornering Reaper himself and demanding an answer 
“Isn’t it obvious?”
well, of course: you were dumb enough to get to attached
but he steps closer, so surprisingly close you can hear a shallow breath muffled by his mask
the shadows engulf you both before you can blink, and his ghostly touch stops just inches away from your cheek
“I’ve risked too much so far… but not you, not anymore”
you know what he means, you just wish you didn’t
he departs with a last glance over his shoulder, to never look back again 
if he wasn’t who he was, maybe things would be different
yet if things weren’t the same, you two wouldn’t even met
in the end, you’re left to grief in the graveyard he paths on his way away from you
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Reinhardt
he’s a hero and will always be
but that doesn’t mean Reinhardt is invincible
that’s why you’re laying by his side, taking extra care to not accidentally touch the bandages covering his torso
you’re little injured from the last mission, a few scratches maybe
thanks to him, who jumped right into the moment to keep your head glued to your neck
per usual, he would be flourishing the battle tales and his epic acts, his thunderous laugh echoing through the HQ, but now?
the sadness contorting his face breaks your heart 
he stares down at you, one calloused thumb tracing under the thin line of the stitches on your cheekbone
“I’ve let them hurt you”
oh… so that’s it
“If I was a second late… I hate to even think of what could've happened”
he groans, retreating his hand and looking away 
if he could ever be more dearing, you would’ve exploded 
you cup his face and make Reinhardt look at you once again, reassuring him you’re here, safe and sound, thanks to him 
it takes a bit of convincing, but soon enough you hear one of his deep chuckles resonating in his chest and know that you’ll be just fine
“I will always be there to protect you, liebling, no matter what it takes. For I could never live in a world where there is no you by my side.”
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Cassidy
he’s always flirting and teasing, so you would assume it’s all a joke
despite him throwing his arm over your shoulder and resting his head on yours every goddamn time he has a chance
and if you’re quiet and close enough, you can hear his fast heartbeats pulsing
maybe… he’s just affectionate, yeah
not that you see Cole like that with anyone else, but
you could never take him seriously, because he can never be serious for once
it’s always a wink here, a smooth darlin’ there
yet he never makes a move on you that gives you the clarity you need
so it’s it, an eternal what if
until one days he comes from a mission, all dirty and hurt
you’re surprised to see he came straightforward to you, still trying to catch his breath while holding to his injured side
but before you can drop any question, Cole smashes his lips against yours
and it feels holy 
he keeps you close when you break the kiss, trying to remind yourself how to breath
his breath is so warm against your face, and that familiar scent of smoke makes your knees weak
“I fucking meant everything I’ve ever said, doll”
for the way he just kissed you, you’re now sure he does 
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Hanzo
Hanzo isn’t one to speak about his feelings openly
you’re actually surprised you’re now tiptoeing around some sort of serious relationship
at least, you think it’s serious since you barely leave each other’s side
it’s extremely hard for him to be vocal about his affection, though
sometimes, he would still flinch when you touch him out of blue
but he loves to run his fingers along your hair, your face…
your body is his to worship
and there’s this lazy morning, where he’s kissing your knuckles and embracing your waist…
you just feel you could melt right here, into him
until something cold circles your finger and your eyes snap open
a ring
a FUCKING ring
you stare at him in pure disbelief, eyes so wide they must pop out by any second
Hanzo shows the most loving smile you had ever seen, kissing your ring finger
that now has an actual engagement ring 
“Being with you everyday is still too little time. I wish nothing but foreverness with you”
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Star covered hug booth (platonic)
Not canon but just some plane what if fun based on an ask from awhile back. Also sorry I’ve been inactive I’ve had some burnout as of late alongside starting second year university lol
Send me asks for characters you’d like to see hug Determination! Y/n
Masterlist for determination!
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In life Nami had many things she has come to love.
For one she loved her mom Bellemere and sister Nojiko (as well as Genzo, a man who was the only father-figure she had in her life despite how she butted heads with him). Nami loved them wholeheartedly, loved them so deeply she sacrificed her childhood to ensure Bellemere’s sacrifice was not in vain.
She loved Cocoyashi. Loved the quaint island village she called home, the old beaten paths she’d chart on her first mock maps. Loved its people that despite having their pockets nicked by her small nimble hands still cared for her (only years later did she learn that many would let her get away with taking their wallets and would give Bellemere discounts for things she needed).
She loved tangerines and oranges. The smell of them lingered on her and in her dreams as the soft memories of that home on a cliffside played in her mind. The sweet taste that stuck to her tongue, the white blossoms in the spring and the color that matched the sunsets that she would peer out at through windows.
She loved money, she felt more secure with it after the years of barely scraping by and being extorted. Liked being able to provide for herself things that seemed more like a childish dream rather than a reality. Nami liked buying clothes, jewels, supplies and things for everyone on board even if they had not noticed. She also used it as a way to tie people to her, by having a “debt” it meant that they would not leave her (even if in her mind she knows they won’t).
And most of all Nami loved her crew.
Nami loved the idiot she called a captain. Dressed in flip flops and his raggedy straw hat sitting like a crown atop messy raven hair along with a stretched out smile across his face.
loved the moss haired swordsman without a sense of direction. How loyalty ran through his blood and his unwavering spirit in spite of the situations they ended up in.
Loved the blond haired cook who went out of his way to feed the crew with a grin. A cigarette hung limply on his lips whilst he handed off Hand made drinks specially catered to individual tastes.
Loved the long nosed cowardly sniper who she leant on for support as one of the only sane ones left on this crew. Their shared dry remarks on ridiculous situations before laughter replaced it.
Loved the blue nosed little doctor that plastered wounds with bandaids with their Jolly Roger. His bursts of bashfulness at being told he did a good job and his love of all things pink and sweet.
Loved the calm and cool historian who never failed to make her feel appreciated. The woman who never asks about the nightmares (nor does Nami ask about her own) but instead silently comfort each other.
Loved the shipwright with flashy chains and a steel hard smile. The man who puts love into their vassal with each nail and board while making unconventional machines that make everyone else smile.
Loved the joke making skeleton with annoying questions but with the soul of a true musician. Ivory bones drifting along similarly ivory keys whilst the crew listened to his songs of old.
Loved the reserved yet hearty presence of the helmsman that helps her through her trauma of fish and scales. The way he uses graceful movements of his karate that’s used to water her tangerines before he splashes a nearby Luffy.
And finally Nami loved the starry-eyed storyteller of the crew. The cherub face of an old soul that has seen too much of the world and has yet to change. A child stuck to watch the world around them change, telling the stories lost to time and later their own mind.
Nami loved her crew.
Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, but the point still stands.
…..but god did she sometimes loath their spending habits which leads her to this situation now.
As the only person on this damn boat with any Handle on money (besides Sanji when he’s not head over heels) she can’t help but want to bash her head in. Because along with being the navigator she handles the money, but evidently that didn’t matter to her stupid (affectionate) crew mates.
No Luffy you can’t buy 5 tons of meat just because your hungry.
No Zoro you can’t buy an oceans worth of booze because you feel like it.
No Sanji you can’t just buy every woman in a crowd a necklace because their “angels sent by heaven”.
No Ussop you can’t just buy a bunch of random supplies for your bombs half that stuff doesn’t make sense.
No chopper you can’t stalk up on cotton candy…the medical supplies is allowed though knowing this crew.
No Robin you can’t have another library on board when our room is already stacked from top to bottom in books.
No Franky for the love of god please stop buying supplies for robots we already have enough of them.
No Brook you don’t need a glass piano we already have 3 different pianos on the sunny.
No jimbe…actually no Jimbe your good because you're actually an responsible adult…wait why do you have so many Hawaii shirts-
And finally you. The only person on this crew who sticks to the budget but never actually buys anything for themself. Honestly she’d be happy if you went over budget and got yourself something, but she knows that’ll happen when Luffy becomes a vegetarian.
Nami loves her crew but god does that seem to screw her over.
They barely had enough to afford supplies at the next port, and though stealing wasn’t off the table laying low would be nice. Especially since her idiot of a captain just had to make a ruckus recently and have a good portion of the marines on their tail.
She’d really like to avoid another jailbreak.
So with that in mind she needed cash quickly.
And with that formed various schemes and ideas.
Form a mlm? Nah too much time to invest in.
Rob a bank? Too much attention.
Form a big distraction and then rob people blind? Shed and most of the crew would avoid doing that to civilians if possible.
And with all those x’d out ideas in mind she finally came to one that seemed plausible.
Somehow you had gained the friendship of many people over your many years of living. From almost all the warlords to Yonko’s and even admirals.
And knowing this Nami’s mind started a scheme. One that left her conflicted.
Because as much as their finances needed it, she wasn’t alright if it made you uncomfortable.
===
It’s partially halfway to their next destination that Nami sits herself next to you whilst you watch the waves. They lapped over one another, folding into the endless blue complimented by bubbling white foam. The sight never seemed to grow old to your eyes, even after so many years of watching the same sight once more as the day continued in its mellowness.
Normally someone of the crew would come to join you so it’s not too surprising when Nami joins.
But what is surprising is when she speaks up instead of continuing in sweet silence.
“We’re low on funds and I had an idea” she starts slowly, she picks beneath her nails, a nervous habit of hers. You noticed it quite easily, for as much as Nami wanted to look like she’s calm and in control you’d alway noticed the cracks in her resolve. It’s what you respected about her. The way she always tried to act like a pillar for others to lean on even when she was as brittle and scared as everyone else.
“Sure thing” you say, still looking out towards the waves.
“But you didn’t-“
“Nami I trust you.”
You think that for a moment that breaks her, shattering her heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Though that should hardly be surprising to her, because of course you trusted her. She was your navigator, your friend. You had every reason to, yet still it resonates within her deeply.
“You didn’t even hear what it was” her tone is slightly chiding, yet lingering fear still makes itself known despite your previous comment. “I had the idea for a hug booth…you know so many people who’d go to the end of the earth for you” she seems slightly uncomfortable saying this, as if slightly upset at herself.
“Yeah sure thing.” You say once more.
Instead of silence though you're met by her ocher brown eyes.
Nami places her hands gently on your shoulders, getting down on a knee to look you in the eye on your level. She looks for apprehension, yet finds none.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks this with a tone that indicates how serious she is “if you're not that’s fine and I can think of something else. But I need to know if you're ok with this.”.
She watches a smile cross your face, small hands that were soft yet should be weathered over the years and years you’d been alive gently cupping her cheeks. You’d done this before to ground her, those nights filled with nightmares of Arlong that left her crying and grasping for anything to hold. The ones where she’d desperately want to curl up and disappear into herself, the ones where she'd look to her shoulder and still see the tattoo beneath the cover up.
It was a gesture of sincerity.
“I’m alright with it, Nami.”
Your eyes sparkle.
“I would’ve said I wasn’t if I was. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing who shows up! Plus it’ll be nice to see some old friends again”
At that Nami nods, a shaky breath leaving her as she stands back up. She swallows down the last bit of fear and anxiety about pushing you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.
And then her game face quickly takes over.
Her head snaps towards Usopp and Franky’s direction.
“Get to work on advertisements and a booth pronto. You’ll get a bigger cut in the budget I’ve set”
===
On the grand line there was a small island that was considered an odd outlier to that of many other islands.
The island of “plote devi’cee” was one that served as a neutral ground for both marines and pirates alike. It started decades ago due to a legend, a daughter of a marine falling in love with a pirate. The meeting of the boyfriend and dad didn’t go well as expected, the boyfriend ended up dead as did the dad which left the girl heartbroken and supposedly cursing the island.
So long as pirates or marines stepped foot on its soil no fights could happen.
Lest they suffer like the poor fools all those years ago who had their ships decimated via sea kings and such bad weather that the ship capsized.
This is important due to the fact that it was the perfect place to set up shop.
You’d been to this place a few times before, so when mentioning it to Nami for this money making scheme it seemed like the only logical place it could work.
With the pamphlets handed out via news birds and your crows they’d inevitably end up at Marineford. So better to be on neutral territory for both marine and pirates without having the operation busted.
So with that in mind and the sunny docked Nami took quickly to setting up shop.
The small booth Franky constructed stood proud and strong atop a small hill just outside the village of the island. Just far enough out of the way as to not disturb their peaceful lives as you sat in your booth waiting. Drapes of cloth created a small doorway and privacy for you and the future customers. Mostly since you’d known this would likely get emotional for more than a few people (perhaps even yourself). Now thinking about it though, it seemed more like a tent and booth but “y/n’s hug booth” was definitely more of a zinger.
Just outside holding a large set of jars were Sanji and Zoro, your “guards” and debt collectors for Nami. Behind your stand was Robin sitting in a small sun chair. An ear inside the booth to listen for the secret sign of you being uncomfortable, 3 taps on the wood and then it would be the signal for zoro and Sanji to drag off whoever was inside.
It wasn’t fully fool proof but it was enough for you to be comfortable enough.
And so you wait.
But it seems not for long as you hear the exasperated murmur of Nami not far away from the booth.
“That’s a lot of ships”.
Seems like the hugging shall begin.
Boa Hancock
Before even seeing the curtain open, you hear Sanji’s commotion of “my eyes have been blessed by a goddess-“ before a subsequent thwack sound resonating in the air. You're not sure who hit Sanj whether From Zoro, Nami or Boa herself but the curtain opens and there enters the empress of the Amazon Lily herself.
The proclaimed most beautiful woman in the world and snake princess warlord.
She sits down, posed and perfect on the small stool. Long legs crossed as you watch the apathy from her face fade at now being in private with you.
It’s odd for you to see her public persona of uncaring, cruel and selfish. Not when you know at heart she’s a girl who’s been victim to the most vicious of cruelties. A woman who longs to be kind yet cannot face being hurt once more, someone who’d rather push those closest away if it ensured their safety.
It’s why you smile when a soft expression covers her face.
“Sorry if Sanji gave you trouble, he’s a massive flirt…and a simp. He means well though, just takes a bit far sometimes” you say a little exasperated as you rub the back of your neck. She gives a small chuckle, the sound of it is soft and pretty like wind chimes and birdsong.
“He’s a man, I’ve dealt with plenty worse.” It comes off as slightly mocking towards the blond, though you’d let it slide knowing her experience with men…plus as much as you loved Sanji he was a bit over the top “besides, I came here to see you.”.
“I must be lucky then. Having been graced with the presence of an empress” the tone is accented by a slight giggle. One that she mirrors with a true smile, one not marred by fakeness or lies, just genuine.
“It’s…it’s good to see you again”
“It’s good to see you too Hancock”
You open your arms, and she reaches forwards to warp you in her own.
Her hug is stiff at first, as if she had not felt the comfort of arms holding her in a very long time and still trying to uphold her mask of stone cold empress. But much like her mask, it cracks and breaks.
What once was stiff arms much like when she petrified people circled around you soon melts.
She pulls you closer, resting her head atop your shoulder as she just holds you and you hold her.
The floral scent of the Amazon lily creates a pleasant smell that wafts within the tent. Roses, peonies, lilacs and of course Lillie’s tickle your nose. It’s much different from your scent of sea salt and dust covered books.
It takes a moment but you quickly begin to hear soft sobs leave her. Tears trailing down and making your shoulder dampen.
You don’t mind.
You just pat her head as gently as you can.
Once more Boa Hancock does not feel like a heartless warlord nor a scared little girl huddled in a cell.
Boa was just Boa.
She was more than the beauty, the power or the brand on her back.
She was more than just her body.
And that’s more priceless than anything she could ever imagine.
“Thank you” her voice is quiet and gentle, something few people would ever have the luxury of hearing.
“No need to thank me Boa.”
To her, your hug signifies a genuine love. One not of romance that clouds the eyes of her fanatic nor of lust that clouds the eyes of men. Your love was Just the love of a friend.
The love of the person behind her facade.
You see her gentle heart and hold it with equal gentle hands.
“You can always turn to me if you need it, can always use my shoulder to cry on. It doesn’t make you weak, it only makes you stronger”
Mihawk Dracule
His appearance at the booth is as cryptic and abrupt just as his appearance of his boat on the sea is.
It’s abrupt.
Expected.
And to everyone but you (and maybe Zoro) it’s an unpleasant surprise.
One that should be bound for bloodshed yet creates a certain tinge of happiness as he closes the curtains behind him and sits down on the small chair facing you.
Yoru being leant against the chair.
A small and subtle sign that he feels at ease with you.
…or at least didn’t see you as a threat. (It was hard to tell with him)
“It’s good to see you again Mihawk, how has the traveling been?” You say this while leaning against your palm that rested on the stand.
Golden ringed eyes stare at you, for a moment you can distinguish a crinkle of affection.
“They’ve been monotonous as usual. Overzealous fools who think they can challenge me”
“An, so like zoro?”
He chuckles at that, distantly outside the tent you hear a distinct “Oi!” Before the sounds of Sanji kicking him. Their bickering fades into the background as Nami presumably dragged them away.
Mihawk leans over, and suddenly you're enveloped in his arms. It’s perhaps a bit unexpected, though with Mihawk things were always a gamble. You half anticipated for him to leave without a hug, but seeing that he hadn’t made you all the more happier.
Mihawk's hug feels secure and protective, as if he were a shield to the rest of the world and its hardships.
Hands that have seen endless fighting and held the hilt of blood a rusted sword hold you.
His hold is not gentle but it is perhaps the softest Mihawk could ever be.
And that’s ok.
Because in his hold it feels as if you're safe.
That he would take on the world to ensure that even when you’d left his arms you’d never have to worry.
And while that’s a far off dream, knowing Mihawk he’d try.
And that’s perhaps the most comforting thought behind it all.
Mihawk would try for you if you’d ask.
If you’d ask, you could have stayed at his abode.
If you’d asked he would do all that he could to ensure you’d never have to die and reappear again.
But he’d only do that if you’d ask.
He didn’t make that decision for you.
Didn’t decide that his judgment was better than yours and impede on your ability to make decisions.
He might have disagreed with some of your decisions but he respected you to make them.
And even more so, he respected you even if he was wrong.
He would never admit to it, but in those few moments you’d proven him wrong a certain pride shone in eagle eyes.
A certain uplift of the corner of his mouth.
“The humandrills miss you…I have a room open if you’d ever require it” it’s said quietly, like a secret exchanged beneath candlelight. It’s a valuable moment, it reminds you of that thing that zoro had said.
“A wound on the back is a swordsman’s shame”
Vulnerability was not something easily handed out by swordsmen, especially not one like Mihawk. A weakness, a so-called wound on his back or in this case his heart. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But luckily you know this well.
“I’d like that”
His mouth twitches, sloping upwards ever so slightly.
To him the hug you give is a moment where he can momentarily be at ease and feel as if he had a goal to accomplish.
Throughout aimless travel he tries to find his match yet all that come to him are disappointments. Battle after battle of people not being able to even land a single blow on him. It’s a constant that leaves him bitter and resigned as he’d toll away in his castle alone.
But with you in arms that carry the burden of being the best he finds himself with a mission that seems ever so slightly more achievable.
He could protect you as best he could.
Though that is an equally daunting task considering your penchant for death, it feels more feasible so long as you remain in his hold.
Small arms that are wrapped around his neck mean no harm.
He has no use in being on edge, not when you’d barely had the will to ever pick up a blade. Even when your life depended on it.
For a short moment the bloodthirsty marine hunter feels at ease.
You do not see him smile but you can feel the warmth he exudes when his hand cards through your hair.
Marco
The cries of “cheater!” And “we agreed that everyone else would get a head start!” Ring out from the very familiar voices of whitebeard’s division commanders outside the tent as an even more familiar voice yells out to them “early bird gets the worm” with an amused chuckle.
And it’s there that the small tent is lit up by flames of cyan blue and brilliant gold. Still in his partial zoan form his clawed feet press against the ground as tail feathers of gold trail behind him like a burning chain.
Flames flicker in a calm heat, letting small pops of sparks almost as if they were mini-fireworks.
A lazy smile is across his face as he sits leisurely across from you.
“Long time no see Marco, how’s the family?”
He chuckles, pointing his thumb to the now closed curtain door as the slightly muffled sounds of complaints just outside answer the question. “Licking their wounds but for the most part good.” There’s an audible “hey!” Once more behind the curtain which makes you chuckle in turn. But eventually the chuckles settle down into silence.
And for a moment besides the murmurs outside there’s a warm silence punctuated by the soft crackles of flame.
Warm blue and soft gold.
Flames that are simultaneously soft as feathers as they wrap around you. Cocooning you in their warm nest of a grasp, like a mother bird swaddling an egg. You could go on and on with the bird analogies, but none could ever describe the sense of comforting warmth that covers your heart in its inferno.
“We’ve all missed you”
The fire burns like a campfire on your heart. The soft oozy scent and taste of s’mores as the muffled laughs of friends and family. The sweetness of chocolate, slightly charred marshmallow and crumbly graham-cracker seem to appear like phantoms on your tongue.
“Pops checks the bounties for you”
A father’s warm hand places itself on your shoulder as the two of you sit by the fireplace. The fireplace sets the blaze on your heart to that of a warmer intensity. Frost presses against the nearby window and nearby boots, hats and mittens let snow melt into them. The chill of winter easing away at the warmth of home and the presence of a man who swore to love and protect you.
“Izou has been arranging for some old spare kimonos of his to be given to you”
A mothers warm hands cup your cheeks as a tender kiss is placed atop your forehead, red phantom lipstick staining your flesh as its kindness traveled to your burning heart. A light giggle echoes from rose lips, a giggle escaping your own as tears pinch at the edges of your eyes at her goodbye.
“Ace, Thatch, and I have been keeping track of your guys’s adventures”
The hearth of your heart feels the burn of the sun clench around it like a firm hug. Beneath a sun hat you pick at a freshly tended garden, soil pooling beneath your hands as you pat it down firmly. Roots tangle beneath the ground, red strawberries hanging low and ripe for the picking as they are placed in a wicker basket. brother places a glass on the ground beside you, cool lemonade fresh on your patched tongue and the bittersweet of it lingering as his blurred face is obscured by the shadow of his own hat.
Love burns you to the core. It’s heat scorching a heart that should be dead and reigniting its will to keep moving.
You melt into the cool flames of blue and gold.
Your tears don’t put it out but instead makes it wrap more securely around you.
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sencrose · 2 days
Text
— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?
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pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki
tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny
wc: 3.2k
summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.
a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here
tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart
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You do not know what your husband sees in you. 
It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 
You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 
With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 
Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were,, or who they could have been. 
What an honor, you were told. 
So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?
You left most things behind. 
Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 
“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”
She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 
It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 
You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 
But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.
“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 
She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”
You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.
As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 
Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 
His touch is few and far between. 
To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 
It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.
Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 
Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 
Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 
As if you weren’t his wife. 
It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 
But your mother’s words haunt you. 
You don’t want to be greedy. 
For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.
You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  
A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.
It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.
Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 
You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 
The similarities start and end there. 
Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 
Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 
Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.
Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.
Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.
But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.
You don’t walk away fast enough.
When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 
You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.
You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.
You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.
Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.
You meet her eyes again. 
She laughs. 
It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.
Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.
You’re cursed. 
How pitiful. 
You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?
A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.
“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”
He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 
Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 
You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 
You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.
But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.
He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.
Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.
“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.
“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 
Time freezes.
Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 
Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.
You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.
Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.
You don’t want to be greedy.
A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?
Because that’s not how I raised you?
Because that’s not a woman’s place?
Because that’s not what makes a good wife?
But none of it sounds quite right.
And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 
You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 
It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.
Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 
It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.
Because all you will be left with is disappointment.
Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 
His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.
There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 
Something about him seems more impatient than usual.
He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.
“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.
Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.
“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 
You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.
“You like this, don’t you?”
You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.
“Mhm,” you hum softly.
“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.
His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.
He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 
“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”
The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.
Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.
“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”
Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 
Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 
You know what your husband sees in you.
You wish you didn’t see it too. 
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firenati0n · 3 days
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hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.
i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!
here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!
Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep.  The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions.  If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting.  She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices.  “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy.  After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed.  “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry. 
xoxo roop
+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf
@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius
@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew
@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere
@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka
@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills
@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow
@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt
@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist
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erabu-san · 17 hours
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First of all, I would like to thank you so much for all your support and your kind message !! Thank you so much for being patient with me too !! (you will see, I thanks a lot in this post lol)
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Haha tbh I believe that ignoring and move on is a great way too! Yeees when I read this anon ask, I was wondering if they are living somewhere where pale person are oppressed and they are personally in this case and it affects them so badly that they have so much hate in them or they are just being hateful toward poc w/o any explication ? It was a bit uncomfortable And what is appealing with Genshin Impact (for me) is the fact that they use real culture to create their game ; even in the last survey, they ask if we like Natlan's authenticity (weird they only ask abt environment and music, i think they know they have issue with character design bahaha). I learn a lot about persian, algerian, but also chinese and even about french culture ! It is because people recognize themself that they start talking about it. I know there is a lot of controversial topic in Natlan, but because of this, I learn a lot on Hawai'i 's culture too. So yes, even if it is fiction, representation *is* important. And it is because they take inspiration of their culture that there is people who want a better representation, and in my opinion, this is something to not ignore !
About taking well what anon said, thank you so much ! If i can be honest tho, I didn't take it very well neither, or just I don't know how do I really felt at the moment I am an adult but I still hard time to distinguish what is morally okay or not, what is bad and good ? So if someone doesn't tell me they are explicitly a bad person with bad intention, I won't get it haha (ofc I grew up and now I identify my value and morals, but I still questionning if my morals are objectively great or not- yeaaah i was called weird for that, I am aware) Since forever I always try to understand other so I can communicate properly (at least I try), and that's why I am always interested on how does people think, why do they react in this specific way etc etc. Pro, I am patient and can take even the most violent take "well" (all depends. I am still a human) Con, I give free speech to those who have a "bad" take </3 and I apologize for that aaaa
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KFSDLFSD I wish to express my angryness sometime but I just don't know if it is really adequate What if I interpret their text in wrong way as they initially try to say ? I wasn't feel offended by what they said, I was just uncomfortable because their opinion is something I consider hateful. and what if i was wrong??? But reading you all's opinion just affirm that's they were indeed rude ! I should stop overthink, life would be easier Maybe next time I have a doubt I will ask my friends's opinion before answering ksdkfsf
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Oh my god thank you !!! If i can be honest, I draw Kinich this way because when I draw him w a darker skin for the first time, I thought "Oh !!! he looks so cool !!!!" and seeing a lot of positive comment abt my Kinich just makes me happy so I keep him like this ! And thank you for sharing with me informations !<<333 This is not overstepping at all ! And it is a reciprocate feeling anon ! It might be a bit weird but "angry" is such a complex feeling for me. I feel it but I don't really know how to express it in the most healthy way and it is super frustrating. So... seeing people getting mad at something I also disagree on makes me feel better !! And for this, thank you all !
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I SNORT SO HAAAARD Damn Macron you again..........!! I didn't put all ask here but I read them all !! Thank you for sharing with me your opinion and reaction, it is truly interesting (and way more relaxing that the hater anon kskskss) !! and again, your support is truly meaningful for me. You all have sincere gratitude Hope y'all have a great day !! Stay hydrated too <3
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soft4gguk · 3 days
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on my little absence 🤍
A little over a week ago I moved into my big girl home. I’ll probably have an even bigger girl home in the future, a place to really call my own. With no landlord and no rules and a mortgage or something. But for now this is my big girl move, in my new big girl home. A home that I carefully picked out, one that I decided upon with so much heart and care. For example, I made sure pets were allowed because I finally feel ready for a puppy. One with two sinks in the master bathroom because suddenly I’m in love in the way that makes you look out for things like that. I picked a house with big windows and tall ceilings because I like waking up to sunlight, but recently purchased really expensive black out curtains because I’ll often share a bed with someone that hates to. I went grocery shopping the other day, all by myself, and found myself buying all of my loved ones favorite snacks, just in case they ever decide to take a train or a plane my way. My fridge smells like blue cheese and I hate blue cheese but my mom loves it and she’s the person I miss the most. Upon telling her this she booked tickets for next week. I am so excited, even though I feel like I’m cheating a little bit. It’s all fair in the name of love and I am so loved (this is something I remind myself of when I feel really alone). And yes, I feel alone quite often and I’m trying to find comfort in it. I used to be so good at it, being alone, but I paid the price of good friends and an even better family and suddenly I don't know how to be as good as i used to be at it anymore. I’m learning, though. I took myself to the cinema today to watch I Am Still. I laughed and cried and sang along and there were two lovely girls sitting next to me that encouraged me to join their little seven dance. It was healing. I left the cinema with my jungkook cup and got myself sushi and ate it at home watching run BTS reruns on my couch because I don’t have a dining table yet. At this point I’m rambling but i so badly wanted to update you guys. I had to focus on… learning how to live like this. It’s been beautiful in the way hard things are and I’m probably dramatizing it a little too much but it calls for it, I reckon. Anyways, I’ll be back tomorrow to answer your asks. I didn’t go anywhere. I love you so much.
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natsunenuko · 2 days
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TW // mental issues, mental absue, harassment, surgery/blood
I'm sorry this one is so long, but please carry on reading. It's a chance for me to not only speak about the situation but let out some steam too. It is unfortunate this announcement comes at the same time the flood occurs on the south of my home country (Poland) and I'm in the endangered zone, luckily so far safe, as I feel my head can't handle more stress.
It's been so long since I've been this personal online. I realized how I didn't feel the urge to vent for 3-4 years by now which is a sign of improving mental health. But my healing is still a process, and I'm afraid it's too hard to carry this rock alone at this point. I fought my thoughts if I should do this and I think just as deeply as I write right now. Yet, I know it's better late than never and I thank deeply my friends for helping me out recently as well as in the past in my lowest. I wholeheartedly owe my life to you.
I couldn't ask for better friends. As years verified, even long lasting relationships might be nothing but a mask and I had to learn the hard way. I ended a friendship of 13 years at the time over a misunderstanding. Other person I put my trust on was nothing but a groomer with morally corrupted sexual tendencies who would take advange of a group of minors while being the only adult among them, yet acting like a person much younger than all of them and pressuring all their mental issues on children instead of seeking help. The latter, I might speak of more in detail when I'm ready.
Long time ago I tried calling out for help but back then, the intrusive thoughts won; "Others have it worse, just work harder.", "No one will give you anything for free, no one will care.", "What people will think of you?". and I would only speak about these things in a closed circle of my friends.
I tried my best in silence by not giving up on my creative passion, working restlessly for years, improving. Hoping I could reach the point I can sustain myself purely on what I make.
But the problem is not being self-sufficient. And it's not about my art...
All of my life it has been me, my momma and my granny. The other two important figures weren't there for us, by choice. (which is hard to say if losing someone you loved is worse than not being cared for in the first place) My rather young self at the time didn't put much thought about it as I didn't understand it but something always felt wrong; my only issues at the time was being "that weird, quiet kid with little to no friends". But despite the hardships, my momma has always been my hero, working without a time for a break or rest so we could live happily, to afford something special from time to time.
However in 2014 my momma has been hospitalised and almost lost her life to wrongly treated ovarian cyst (cyst rapture), with enough blood loss to require emergency surgery...
From that point on things went downhill and the result of that we feel to this very day. To stay afloat we fell into a severe dept. (We didn't have any savings, could only rely on borrowing money or loans) And since I was a child as all of this happened, I've only learned about it all throughfully as I entered adulthood, so I wouldn't need to worry about anything and "just be a kid". Which I really understand, but it doesn't make it easier to handle.
And by now, for several years I keep on trying to earn money, so I could free my momma from this chain and let her live, not survive. I always wanted to get through this quietly, because I never, ever wanted to burden anyone with my home problems. But it grew to a point I might need to grab anything to climb towards the light
The goal is $10 000... which is scarily large number.
I list all the options but Kofi is preferred to keep track of the funds!
My commissions are HERE! (the sheet will receive a slight update in upcoming days) My Kofi is HERE! (Level 4 Tea is free headshot drawing every month!) HERE's other services I do (adopts, brushes, etc) I plan to do paid requests for my friday streams on occasion! Anything else I come up with I hope to include in here! Every person who donates will be part of "Thank you" list where I hope to shoutout everybody, cause every penny matters. I want this situation to end...
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I love Deep Cut. I love them so much. Even moreso after the Grand Festival results dialogue.
They love each other so deeply (ha!) and genuinely.
Do you know how much of Frye's pride she had to push aside to tell Big Man he was right about Splatsville and Inkopolis getting along? How HARD that must have been for someone so sound of mind she was on the right side of the conflict? And yet she never stumbled over her words or looked upset when saying them. Remember just how upset she was when admitting that the New Squidbeak Splatoon was actually pretty chill about the treasure?
And Shiver agrees with her....HUMBLY! This woman will (gently) lorde her victories over her friends at any chance, pull an "I always believed!" at the drop of a hat, but no. She just simply agrees that Big Man was right, that she could see his reasoning in everyone's happy faces. And it also feels....like an apology for Big Betrayal. Especially after she learned Liquid Sunshine was a charity collab and all the profits went to Splatsville; her turf, her people, the people she fights so hard for everyday so they can have an easier life in their humble little city.
And Big Man...... FLIPPING BIG MAN!
He accepts these statements, the unspoken apology, after everything! And then doubles down on being only their songwriter, because he also sorta also fucked up by going behind their backs for the collab. (It also feels like an unspoken apology from him as well)
And then the other two say they want him to themselves, because he's the best at his job, that they'll always be Deep Cut and always be awesome.
Because they're the Best
The Brightest
And Bandmates Forever!
I'm sorry, but if even after that entire exchange, you still think that they're boring, or they secretly hate each other, or have no personality or purpose, then I truly don't think you've been paying attention.
They love each other so damn much I wanna cry.
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You will always be famous to me, Deep Cut 💙💛❤️
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I used to be pro Pali, too.. sort of.
I live in a Muslim country, and our government tends to lean towards radical Islam.. as a general rule our population tends to be really, really antisemitic. I myself have always admired Jewish ppl but since we have exactly one (1) synagogue in our country it's really hard to learn about the culture (from a verified source).
There wasn't much news here about Oct 7, but I remember right after October 8th there was a TON of misinformation.. stuff like, oh no how could Israel do this unprovoked... hamas is a small resistance fighter group, they dont have rockets; they treat their hostages really well! Actually Oct 7 wasn't a big deal and nobody got *seriously* hurt.. that kind of thing.
As you know they were throwing the words genocide and apartheid around and. I remember feeling... shock, and disbelief. Even then something didn't feel right.
But then there was this flood of all these gory videos of ppl, kids, injured.. everyone was sharing them, everywhere. My country is both Very Muslim and Very Anti Colonialism so it was... THE topic. Everyone had an opinion. and so I went... I don't agree with Palestinians being killed.. I guess that makes me pro Palestine?
But that didn't last very long because people started being really antisemitic... Well, I don't have to name examples, I'm sure you know. I quickly became disillusioned with the movement, and the fact that my own ancestors were similarly treated when we were kicked out of our own homeland is part of that... The lack of compassion, the black and white thinking, the callousness was disgusting. Still is.
Now I'd say I'm anti-war in general. I'm anti ANY people being shot/bombed/kidnapped. I'm sick of all the world governments equally, but I care a lot about the people living under them. In an effort to combat antisemitism I have started pushing back and rebutting people's antisemitic rhetoric wherever I could, in person and online here and there- it's hard though. I just wish there was a way to do it without being shut down & labelled every which way the minute I open my mouth about it. Though, again, I guess you can relate.
Anyway I'm telling you this to hopefully explain that.. idk. If even I, someone living in a country steeped in anti Jew propaganda with very few Jewish citizens, can wake up and realise this is fucked up, maybe there's hope for people in other countries. Idk. It made more sense in my head.
I'm really sorry you and Jewish people in general have been through this, again, and I'm really sorry we, the supposedly progressive goyim, have let you down. I don't know if there's really any way to make up for this, but I hope you know that we will make an effort to do better in the future.
I hope you do find peace and safety again in your lifetimes.
I don’t have anything else to add to this anon, thanks for reaching out. You’ve said this more eloquently and powerfully than I could. I hope you stay safe and healthy!
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Note
I was reading through some of the recent asks on this blog, and I was reminded of this time a couple months back when I was explaining to my brother (who knows jack shit about ace stuff) how I feel like I’ve learned how to put myself in an allo perspective out of necessity, and how it stings when he acts like sex appeal is the singular reason someone might enjoy something.
He seemed a bit offended. He told me that he believes that, as an allosexual, he could never understand an ace perspective, just as he could never understand a female or transgender perspective, and thus he felt it would be disrespectful to assume otherwise.
And like… sure. You don’t know what it’s like being aroace in a world that constantly conflates and centers romantic and sexual relationships, but is it really that hard to imagine how an ace person might feel about something? Maybe I’m just biased, but extrapolating the way you feel about people you don’t find sexually attractive to everyone doesn’t seem like a very complicated thought exercise.
I love my brother, but he can be real insensitive, especially when it comes to my asexuality. I don’t think I’d personally call him an aphobe, but he definitely has internalized aphobia that he’s doing nothing to fix.
To be honest, I think the main issue here is accepting you'll never truly understand vs assuming everyone thinks like you by default... It's not the same thing. Sure, it's fair to consider that it would be disrespectful to assume you'll ever understand such a unique life experience that you don't share... But that has nothing to do with acting like your own experience is the only one that'll ever be relevant, and that everyone shares it. So... I'm not sure I see his point.
Yeah, it's very possible, even just basic reality, that you'll never understand a life experience you don't share yourself. But that doesn't mean you can't hear out a person who tells you they live through that experience, and you can't consider said experience and be respectful of it (...tbh that's kinda what we have to do with straight people and allosexual people all the time ourselves, isn't it). If it meant that, we'd still be very much behind as a society. I'm really sorry you're going through that... Always reminds me how blessed I am that my own bros are as supportive as they are. I'll never take that for granted.
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twinksrepository · 3 days
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September prompt 18
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Rating: PG
Pairing: Diavolo X F!Reader
CW: Implied NSFW talk
Word count: Roughly .7K
A/N: Based on the prompt "Run"
Images belong to Solmare.
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As much as you enjoy running, there are times you regret it. Like this evening as you follow the path around the park near RAD and not too far from the usual path you and the brothers take to get to the school from the house of Lamentation. 
Instead of enjoying the chilled air and the music from your headphones in your ears you hear the steady breathing of your running partner. 
Diavolo. 
When he had first learned you liked to run for an hour every other day after school he decided to join you, and you couldn’t say no. Not with the way Lucifer had been staring you down like he was going to smite you from every level of existence if you gave an answer that was anything less than one hundred percent enthusiastic.
Now tonight as you take a turn, focusing on your long inhales through your nose as you exhale through your mouth you find it harder to pay attention. Between the two of you, the only sounds are your breathing, yet your eyes keep flicking to the demon prince beside you in a t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. 
Seeing him out of his RAD uniform isn’t anything new. It’s the way his skin is damp from the sweat building from his exertion, every time you run under a lamp it’s hard to miss the sheen on his tanned skin. Or the way his shirt is clinging to his body and revealing muscles that are normally hidden behind the layers of fabric that make up the bright red outfit. 
At least the two of you are on your final lap and he seems more focused on the run instead of trying to have a conversation. Something you very much can’t do while your feet are pounding into the ground. 
Seeing the starting point you had used you start to slow your pace, noticing Diavolo dropping back to remain beside you as you both reach the bench you had left your bag at. “I think my legs are on fire.” Panting as you dig around inside the fabric for the two water bottles you had thrown inside, handing one to Diavolo. 
“Ah, thank you!” Taking a sip before motioning with his hands towards the path you had just run on. “Shall we walk for a bit so your legs aren’t as on fire?” 
“Yes, otherwise I won’t be able to move tomorrow.” Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and putting the strap of your bag across your shoulders. As you set off on a leisurely stroll you find your eyes still darting to his form. “I hope I wasn’t too slow for you.” With his longer stride, you are wondering if he had found the pace to be below what he normally runs at. 
“Not at all! I found it rather refreshing.” Letting out a few of those booming laughs of his. “Perhaps I’ll join you more often.” Sending you a smile that has you wishing you were still running so you had an excuse about why your face was warming. 
“I think Barbatos would have something to say about the piles of paperwork you need to do.” Watching him flinch with water in his mouth is hilarious as a small spray bursts past his lips. 
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” 
“Oh, Diavolo” Laughing as you shake your head. “I’ve seen you try to crawl out a window to get away from those piles. I am not being held responsible by your butler for ignoring your duties so you can go run with me.” Not thinking as you blurt out the next part. “You’re too distracting all sweaty anyway.” 
“If that’s the case I can think of other things we can do that are just as good as a run that makes us sweaty.” You jerk to a stop as the burning along your cheeks rises to the tips of your ears as well, it’s hard to ignore what he’s implying. 
“Just keep walking mister.” Feeling your face grow even hotter as he lets out another one of those booming laughs of his, at least he keeps walking. 
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September 2024 Challenge Masterlist
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v-h-lupin · 2 days
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Maurauders Era Characters if they were Demigods (with explanations)
ive been listening to Epic and rereadng my harry potter writing (really trying to work on my fanfic, im just stretched kinda thin)
anyway
this is pt. 1 because I will be doing more, and golden trio era characters too
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Remus Lupin:
This boy is the most Son of Athena kid i have ever seen in my entire life look at him He is so smart in so many different ways I just he's so quick witted and brave, and he was so ready to throw himself into battle. strategizing to use his unique attributes even when his superiors (who had political leanings) told him otherwise. But his intellect doesn't mean he has a lack of empathy he's also really crafty but not in the "hot gluing pieces of felt in the basement" type of crafty he's just got such a good mind
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James Potter:
Ok ok so hear me out Hermes. Hermes Hermes Hermes. Hermes is the god of so many things-- Jack of all trades, really, and James is just so damn good at everything he does. He's also incredibly fast on a broom. He makes friends wherever he goes (pretty fitting if your father is the god of travellers) and is mischevious without dipping into the villain area (most of the time).
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Sirius Black:
Aphrodite. Hands down. Did not have to think when I said this. Everyone at school is fully aware that he is attractive and he can charm almost anyone. he is very charismatic. He can speak French and I BELIEVE Italian... ok it just... makes sense to me... (btw regulus will be in pt. 2)
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Peter Pettigrew:
Also Hermes. Let me explain-- Beyond the fact that it would justify him feeling closer to James, we can use the other side of the Hermes coin for this. Hermes is the god of pretty much anything you encounter on the road. Hermes is not evil or anything-- but he does technically protect thieves and liars. Peter and James have parallels that make me believe both of them would be sons of Hermes, but their hearts were different.
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Lily Evans:
This one was hard. I was thinking Demeter- then Apollo- then Athena- Hestia isnt an option but like, it might fit if it was-- I'm gonna say Athena because while YES, she does learn healing magic, she's also just incredibly bright in general. She and Remus are both brainchildren ok She's also very witty in her comebacks and stubborn-- im referring to her behavior in general, not just when it comes to james. For example, even though Petunia hated her, she still was so determined to have a good relationship with her sister.
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Mary MacDonald:
OO, oo, i want to say Aphrodite, but then I remember that sirius is aphrodite and that would be WEIRD but if sirius was anyone elses kid, mary would be an aphrodite kid, i just, like? look at her. she celebrates her femininity, she's so confident in herself, i love her
other than aphrodite, I might say... Hebe. Seems like a deep reach, but she's the goddess of youth.
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Marlene McKinnon:
APOLLO. Apollo. Apollo. Marlene has always wanted to be a healer. She's also a great flyer. I don't know what else to say about it but like- Apollo? yes, yes
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