#left it vague so we can place it whenever we like

[kabsey]

shaking off the fanfic rust...

A noise from beyond the pantry makes Lucanis and Spite raise their heads in a perfectly mirrored movement. Lucanis frowns, but instead of answering with a sneer, Spite stares at the wall intently, as though he can see through it. Perhaps he can.

"I want. To talk. To Rook." The demon's usual refrain is for once spoken softly. Having had little opportunity to study his own face—he barely recognizes himself in a mirror after the past year—Lucanis cannot put a name to the emotion Spite's expression conveys.

The sheer oddness of this subdued version of the demon compels him as firmly as if Spite had taken control. He lets Spite lead him out of the pantry to where Rook sits in the chair beside the fireplace, the one that leans against his wall. He watches her pour a generous measure of wine into a coffee mug and sets aside the thought that coffee from that mug will likely never taste quite right again.

"Rook?"

She looks up at him with slightly bleary eyes; he suspects this is not her first drink of the night.

"Sorry to disturb," she murmurs. Like Spite, her usual spirit seems banked to little more than embers.

"You didn't. I was awake." He is always awake, and even the sight of a clearly troubled Rook cannot completely eclipse his awareness of the exhaustion that gnaws at his bones.

He hesitates a moment longer and then takes the seat beside hers. "Something on your mind?"

She snorts into the mug and takes another long drink. He catches himself watching the muscles in her throat shift. He knows all too well how fragile the skin is there, how easily it parts beneath a garrote or knife. The thought makes him vaguely nauseated in a way he cannot remember being since he was a child.

His thoughts change when she lowers the mug and licks a stray drop of wine from her lips. He spares half a glance toward Spite, expecting the demon to respond with a lewd gesture as he does whenever Lucanis's mind wanders thus, no matter how idly. But Spite's gaze remains fixated on Rook with an intense, inhuman stillness.

"I fucked up."

He barely hears the words above the crackling of the fire. His head tilts in question, and he feels his brow furrow.

"How so?"

Rook shoots him a faintly annoyed look and brings the mug back to her lips. Her admission, as misplaced as he might find it, makes plain the direction of her thoughts.

"What happened in Minrathous isn't your fault," he tells her.

"I was compromised," she says. Her eyes stare off to some distant point. He is not entirely certain she even heard him. "I was too close to the target. I reacted emotionally."

She huffs a poor imitation of a laugh. "Viago is right about me."

"You made a call," Lucanis insists. "A call no one else was making. I regret running off. I should not have left it all to you."

When she turns to him again, he sees a weariness in her that matches his. Perhaps lives such as theirs—lives so steeped in death—placed a burden on the soul, a weight that became more heavy in the middle of a quiet night.

"You were compromised too," she says.

He nods. "I was. I thought of nothing but protecting my home. Our home."

He leans closer to her, hoping to communicate clearly the sincerity of his words. "But I have thought on it since. I don't believe there was anything else we could have done. Even with the eluvians, even with the power to cross half the continent in minutes, we were too late. And I still believe the damage to Treviso would have been worse."

As he speaks, Rook leans toward him as well, as though his words provide more warmth than the fire. He cannot say he knows her well, but he suspects that such vulnerability is a sight beheld by very few in the world.

It humbles him, and he casts his own eyes downward, unsure of his worthiness to receive such a revelation. And unsure that knowing he is unworthy would stop him from acting should he gaze upon her for too long.

"For what my thoughts are worth," he adds, and he pulls away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Coward," Spite hisses. But the demon says nothing more as Rook rises.

"Your thoughts are worth a lot," she says. "Thank you."

He risks looking up at her, and her lips curve into a smile. It is thin, somewhat frayed at the edges, but genuine. He responds in kind and, after she nods a farewell, he watches her walk away, out the door to the hazy world that waits beyond.

"Always watch," Spite mutters. "Never do. Always look. Never touch."

Lucanis sighs. "We have larger concerns at the moment."

Spite tilts his head. "Contract." He looks to the door that Rook walked through. "Protect."

"Yes," Lucanis agrees.

When Spite turns his attention to chipping at the mortar in the stone wall, Lucanis sighs in relief, grateful that, for one night at least, they have reached a fragile accord.

[exthief]

you fucking need me.

manuel's first instinct is to flip his phone screen down on the counter.  he isn't particularly proud of it, but that's the first thing that goes through his mind when he reads the text from @absensia. he is good a that, he guesses — sweeping his problems under a rug and pretend they don't exist. so he can breathe a little easier for a while, without the feeling of something ugly breathing down his neck. he glares at the object, shoves it the front pocket of his sweatshirt and goes back to making himself coffee.

the kitchen is messy, but not in such a deplorable state that it screams abandoned.  lived in, sure. but he's seen worse. he keeps telling himself that he should buy some plants to give it some more color, but he ends up forgetting, or postponing. and so his kitchen is still looking empty, the walls a dull not quite white, not quite cream color, the paint long since faded in some places, cracked in others. as far as rented places go, it's decent, good enough for him.

his phone buzzes again.  ominous, insistent, like the bad thoughts that chase him at night. he grabs his phone with a sour taste in his mouth, it reminds him of the feeling of being backed into a corner. you can't ignore me, charlotte seems to be saying and manuel knows she is right — she often is, he supposes. so he ends up calling her, phone nudged between his shoulder and cheek, awkward and uncomfortable, trying to squash the impression that each beep of his phone is spitting the word pathetic out at him.

'' not even a 'how are you', wow, that's cold. you always cut straight to business. ''   he forces a casual tone, all fake cheer and deflection.   '' so, um. what's up? wait, actually— ''   he settles the coffee machine down, so he can grab the phone without giving himself a stiff neck.   '' why don't you come by? i'm making coffee. ''   a peace offering, whether or not he actually needs one.  better safe than sorry, right?

[devilyn]

“I went on a date today.”

There was quiet shuffling on the other line.

“...why’re you telling me?”

You weren't too sure why. Maybe it was because the man that you went on a date with made you feel small, or maybe it was the way he only cared to get to know you on a vague surface level.

Or maybe it was because when you left the date, you couldn't help but remember the way Tsukishima Kei made you feel when he still loved you.

You decided to settle on, “I don't know.”

And your ex boyfriend practically laughed on the other side of the phone.

“You broke up with me,” his tone is harsh, like he’s purposely trying to hurt you. “You can't just call me whenever you want.”

“Then why did you pick up?”

More silence. The two of you sat in it. The only sound you could hear was the muffled noise of his TV in the background, left in the apartment the two of you used to share before you packed your things and left him.

Left the memories of the two of you behind in a place you used to call home because you couldn't take it anymore.

“You know why.”

He sounded more vulnerable now, the lightest inflection in his voice.

He never did want the breakup. You insisted on it. You thought he would've blocked your number, but seems like the two of you were still on the same page despite all that happened between you.

“Do you love me?” you asked him, a hint of desperation in your question.

“You can't ask me that now.”

“But I love you.”

You blurted it out before you could regret it. Your voice shook, free hand coming up to your face to scrub at it to try and hide the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I still love you. But I needed to leave you,” you started to ramble, not waiting for his response. “These past six months I thought I was finally doing fine without you. I could smile again, I found myself again, Kei. I learned what type of person I could be without you--”

“So what changed?” He snapped. “Why did you call me in the middle of the night? To brag that you're doing so much better than me?”

The hurt in his voice was palpable, and your heart throbbed in your chest.

“No,” you whispered, “Because I remembered that we used to be happy.”

You heard him inhale sharply as you wiped your tears.

You used to be happy. Tsukishima Kei used to make you happy.

“...I ruined it, though.”

You could picture him on the other side of the line. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to suppress whatever emotions were coming up. Because Tsukishima hated emotions, and hated dealing with them.

“You did,” you agreed with him with a watery smile, “We both did.”

“I'm sorry.”

If he had said that seven months ago, you would've celebrated. An apology from Tsukishima is like an award.

But as much as you wanted to, as much as the thought of being with someone other than him terrified you, you weren't ready to let him back in.

Your silence was too much for him, so he shakily whispered, “I miss you."

You put him out of his misery with a quiet, “I know.”

You remembered his laughter when he'd tease you and you'd pout. You remembered how his eyes sparkled when looking at you. How his kisses felt like bright sunshine on a winter afternoon.

“What can I do?” He practically pleaded, at the end of his rope.

You remembered screaming, crying, pictures ripped up and broken photo frames. You remembered the anger in his eyes, blazing and unrecognizable. How each of his words and insults tightened the vice around your glass heart, until it shattered to pieces at your feet.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do, and you broke his heart too.

And just as you thought you were ready to move on from him, memories of him came crashing back like a tidal wave.

“I don't know, Kei,” your free hand covered your eyes, swollen from tears. The aching of your heart was almost too much to bear.

“Let me make it up to you,” he spoke quickly, feeling you slipping away from him again. “Delete his number. Let me back in. I'll be better.”

His offer was tempting. In an ideal world, Tsukishima wouldn't break your heart again.

Was it okay to hope for ideals? Was it foolish of you to take him back, and give into the hope that things would be different this time?

“Please, baby.”

He was genuinely pleading now, and you muffled a sob behind your palm. Your prideful ex boyfriend who never apologized and never begged you for anything was begging for the right to care for your broken heart.

“...okay.”

So you gave into him, and handed him the pieces of your heart to put back together again.

[ssahotchnerr]

hey i tried to see if requests are open but can’t see anything, so hungover!reader x hotch? 🙏🙏

remedies

cw; fem bau!reader, drinking mentions, hangover talk and symptoms, fluff <3

There was a brief moment of peace when you stirred. Being pulled from such heavy sleep, a moment of solitude, before you met consciousness with excruciating pain. Regret was the next sensation to sweep through your body, until your awareness vaguely focused elsewhere. You either heard footsteps nearing, or it was the repetitive throb in your head.

Aaron had a key to your place and he had let himself in. You hadn't answered any calls or texts, and he was partially worried (he had known you were going out the night prior, and did return home safely). His concerned look turned to a sweetly pitiful one as he saw you lying there, hazily blinking up at him.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Aaron?" Your head rose, your voice hoarse as it exited your lips, your dry throat to blame. You cursed your hangover for dulling the usual excitement whenever you caught sight of him. "What're you doing here?"

"We had brunch plans."

Your brows scrunched in confusion, as well as your eyes as they attempted to adjust to the light. "What time is it?" You could've answered your own question by peering at the clock besides you, but you didn't dare turn your head. The more you moved, the worse.

Aaron checked his watch, moving his jacket sleeve to view it, "Half past noon."

At his words, your eyes widened. The sudden shock interfered with your head, causing the pounding to only elevate.

"Oh god I'm sorry." You facepalmed by use of your pillow, the momentary darkness enhancing the dizziness behind your eyelids. "I'm awful."

"I wouldn't go that far." Aaron teased lightly as he sat on the bed besides you, his hand finding your back and sliding his palm along it softly. "Crazy night with the girls?"

"Penelope tried- created a new concoction of drinks." A wave of nausea hit you from the memory, your stomach swirling. You scowled in disgust, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Aaron hummed in response, another pitiful smile tugging on his face as you groaned. He felt bad you felt bad. He's had his fair share of hangovers, sure, but never one at the hands of Penelope.

"I'm never drinking again." With all you had left in you, you forced your head to lift to defeatedly meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I did have an alarm set. Or... I think? I must've slept through it."

"No it's okay, I figured. Knowing them, we shouldn't have made plans for the following morning." He flashed you an understanding smile, his hand stopping and giving you an affectionate tap.

"Probably a good idea."

"I can take an accurate guess, but how are you feeling?"

"Like the jet ran me over."

"That bad?"

"Penelope called her drink moonlight mojito blitz." Again, you nearly gagged at the thought, Aaron himself made a face. "Or something of the sort. I don't know, it had a complex name one way or another."

"Lucky for you then, I have more simply named reinforcements ." Aaron offered, gesturing to your bedside table. "Gatorade, water, ibuprofen, which I'm judging by the strain on your face, you should take now." He reached for the container, dumping the tablets into his palm. "Down the hatch."

You weakly sat up against your pillow, holding out your own hand. As you did what you were told, he produced the Gatorade.

"Drink up."

You winced at the words, "I'm having flashbacks."

He laughed softly, the sound enough to soothe any hangover, or plainly anything. "Sorry, but I'm serious. You need the electrolytes, I won't allow dehydration if I can help it. You'll need to eat something too, but that can wait at least. Until-"

You finished for him, taking a generous sip. "Until the room stops spinning."

"That's right," Aaron offered you another small, closed lip smile. "Can I get you anything else?"

You peered up at him, playing up the hopefulness in your eyes. The visual was for effect really, you knew he would implement anything you asked, as he always did. "My favorite pillow?"

"Sure honey, where-"

"You." You grabbed his wrist, weakly tugging him towards you and trying your hardest to not let your grasp drop despite the downward, heavy pull. "You're my favorite pillow."

Aaron slid besides you easily, and before he was thoroughly comfortable or settled, were you clinging onto him. Your face buried itself into the skin of his neck, while one of your legs lazily draped over his waist. He molded just as equally into your body too.

Your head was still spinning - part of you feared it would never cease - but Aaron's contact allowed some sense of stillness. Like you weren't going to be picked up and somehow carried away; he would ensure you were close and grounded.

"Is this really all you need?" Due to your close proximity, you could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. "Can't I do anything more? Is the room too warm? Too bright?"

You shook your head, tightening your leg's hold on him. There was a playful tone in your voice, "I may need you to hold my hair back later."

"You say the most romantic things to me." Aaron chuckled, his lips tugging into a smile before pressing his lips atop your head. He quipped back gently, "Looking forward to it."

[kiame-sama]

Similar question to the one with Drider!Rook on kissing but with the other Monster Boys

How would they handle me giving them a kiss on the cheek (Or even their mouth) only to take something from them in victory?

But it’s mainly to prove a point that I don’t need physical strength to win, but my cunning and intelligence (Like I take their Dorm Staff or whatever’s in their hand in triumph because I proved my point)

Honestly, Malleus, Vil, Leona and Azul would be the most impressed but would probably scold me if I did that with others (But their eyes are dilated)

Warnings; Several different Yanderes, yandere behavior, suggestive themes, kissing, thievery, if you kiss any of the monster-men you need to be ready to handle the consequences, mainly Dormleaders (Minus Kalim, because all you have to do is point somewhere and you can easily steal from him. You don't even have to steal, he would willingly give you anything you wanted the moment you showed interest. You'd have a harder time stealing candy from a baby), less thievery and more escaping in Vil's ficlet, use of gamer-tags in place of names for Idia's ficlet,

~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Riddle!"

The Unicorn glanced over his shoulder when he heard your happy greeting, smiling in response to seeing you walking over to him with a slight bounce in your step. Though he would never admit it, the way his heart seized whenever he saw you was both a painful yet wonderful experience. How he longed for you to return his affections and take your rightful place as his King of Hearts.

"Good morning, (Y/N). Have you been well?"

"Of course, but there was something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Come over here, so we can talk without shouting."

The red-maned Unicorn was bemused, yet complied with your request all the same. He would always do as you asked of him, even if it meant moving the very ocean by hand. You smiled in a way that was almost mischievous and Riddle vaguely wondered what it was you were playing at. When he approached, you looked up at him with a content smile that he returned in kind.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I had some questions for you about Unicorns, actually. Unicorns are a myth where I'm from, so I wanted to see if you could clear up some of the misconceptions I might have surrounding Unicorns."

"I would be happy to teach you about Unicorns, (Y/N)! You can have the utmost faith in me to provide accurate information to your questions. What did you want to know?"

"Are you able to lay down without being injured? The closest we had to Unicorns was regular horses, and they rarely would lie down unless extremely comfortable, young, or ill."

"Of course I can! Here, allow me to demonstrate for you."

He moved his weight back to his haunches, allowing them to meet the ground as he curled one leg after the other beneath him. Once his equine half was settled on the ground, he was about to roll to one side to fully lay down when your soft hand cupped his cheek. Riddle was confused as to your interruption but his confusion quickly turned to shock when your lips locked with his.

An almost whinnying squeal left him, but he was eager to return to affection in kind. Even as he felt the crown of his dorm-uniform being lifted from his head, he pursued the kiss eagerly and chased your lips as you tried to pull back. You were only able to escape the Unicorn's desperate kisses by stepping back, as he was unable to get up as easily as he was able to lie down.

There was a clear red decorating the cheeks of the lovely Unicorn even as you grinned triumphantly and placed the golden crown atop your own head. Little did you realize how much this would actually impact the Unicorn you tricked. A certain darkness seemed to take over the bright blue eyes of the monster man as he gained an almost drunken smile.

"Prefect..." he breathed, "absolutely perfect. My wonderful King of Hearts... of course I'll marry you!"

"Wait, what-?"

The Unicorn stood now, almost invigorated as he easily caught your shoulders in his hands, pulling you back into another deep kiss. When he finally broke it, he was affectionately rubbing the side of his horn against your head with soft nickering noises.

"Didn't you know? Kissing and exchanging an article of clothing is akin to a proposal for Unicorns like me. You'll make a wonderful King, (Y/n). My marvelous King of Hearts."

~•§•~

The Nemean Lion was laying in the vast gardens of the greenhouse, resting beneath the large leaves of a fern commonly found in his homelands of Sunset Savana. He was somewhere between sleep and awareness when a certain scent on the air caught his interest. Without bothering to open his eyes, his ears angled around before pinpointing the location where the scent originated. Leona almost smiled.

It was clear to him that you were trying to be quiet and sneak up on the Lion that continued to lazily lounge as you drew close. The only true indication that he was awake and not sleeping was the almost imperceptible flick of his tail. He was almost eager for what you intended to do after your approach as he continued to flick his tail excitedly.

The moment you were within reach, the Lion proceeded to grab you and pull you into his arms. You had been under the impression that he was asleep, so when he grabbed you, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise and fear. Of course, Leona couldn't help but laugh at your response as he rolled to his side, laying next to you and propping himself up on one arm.

"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to sneak up on me, Mousey."

"I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

"No? Then why were you trying to be as quiet as possible?"

"Because, I was going to do something else."

"Like?"

Your sudden kiss to his forehead made a loud purr erupt from the chest of the Lion. It was almost too easy to get Leona to let his guard down as your fingers began carding through his mane, scratching near his golden ears. That also gave you the opening you were looking for as you easily slid the dorm emblem off of the arm of the Lion.

However, when you tried to pull away to abscond with your winnings, the weight of Lion was too much to be able to wiggle away from him and from under his grasp.

"Nice try, Mousey. Now, you're going to lay there and be a good little pillow as payment for interrupting my nap."

"But you weren't even sleeping-!"

He was quick to place himself on top of your soft figure, grabbing both of your hands- making you drop the emblem- and putting them back in his hair. There was little else you could do but pet the Lion who began to doze while snuggling your much more fragile form. If you wish to play with Lions, you must be ready to face the consequences of your actions.

~•§•~

"Ne, Azul! The Human is here and says they want ta talk to ya!"

The Cecaelia glanced up from the contract he was working on as Floyd lazily called into the office Azul often occupied. Though he often didn't allow visitors on any schedule but his own, he would make an exception for the beautiful Human he adored.

"Send them in."

"Kay~!"

At least Floyd seemed to be in an affable mood for once, smiling and lazily walking off with the door left somewhat ajar. Azul would scold the Eel later for the blatant forgetful behavior, as it was rather important to close the door to Azul's office due to the many contracts stored within the room. Still, it was something he could bring up later.

Floyd returned to open the door fully, letting the Human into the room with a happy grin in their direction. He seemed to want to linger but instead closed the door and went back to whatever it was he did when he was not tormenting others. Perhaps he was just moving on to torment someone else or even his twin bother.

"(Y/n), welcome to my humble office. What can I help you with today?"

"Well, I was told that you were the one to go to if I ever needed anything others were unable to retrieve."

"You're... you're here for a deal? I would happily make any deal with you, dear (Y/n)! Name your desires and I will deliver as promised!"

He was thrilled to know you were seeking his assistance. He was the best bet most had, after all. Most would have to pay a rather steep price to be able to afford the aid of the Cecaelia on any given day, but he had already resolved to aid you for a much more generous and kind-hearted price than his usual rate.

What he wasn't expecting was for you to sit down on the edge of his desk with an almost coy grin, gazing affectionately into the eyes of the Octopus who now seemed nervous under your scrutiny. He would never admit it- excepting to Floyd and Jade who had already become wise to his affections- but Azul was madly in love with the soft Human of Night Raven College. The Octopus had been in love with the idea of Humans ever since he was a larvae, hardly hatched and struggling in the currents of the ocean.

The many depraved things he had written in his adoration of Humans would hopefully remain unviewed by the Human that now sat perched atop his desk. Of course, it did nothing for the suddenly dry mouth Azul now experienced as he tried to keep himself as composed as possible. Were he in his aquatic form, no doubt his tentacles would be all over the soft skin of the Human, tasting and kissing the flesh that seemed so ample and on display for his gaze.

"Wh-what- ahem- what was it you needed from me, (Y/n)-?"

A sudden warm and soft kiss to the small heart shape beneath Azul's right eye had the Octopus tensing up. He was completely flabbergasted and unable to say anything in response to the affectionate action, even as his hat was lifted from his head and placed atop the head of the grinning Human. The octopus was only able to blink one eye at a time from how scattered his brain had become as the Human hopped off of his desk and pranced to the door, hat still securely in place.

"That's all I needed. Thanks, Azul!"

~•§•~

"Would you stop moving, (Y/n)? Honestly, you are acting as if you have never modeled for us before."

You frowned somewhat at the gentle scolding of the handsome Harpy that was trying to finish stitching the hemming of the shirt you were wearing. Naturally, the Harpy would not be content with just a few outfits for your ensemble and called you back to tailor more clothing for you. Divus wasn't present at this fitting, but Rook was happily watching the Harpy circle you as he hand-sewed the clothes.

"Well, sure, but I wasn't thinking I was going to have to stand for so long. It's not exactly comfortable."

"Beauty is pain, my featherless darling. Pin feathers are annoying and sometime even painful, but they give way to the most beautiful feathers imaginable if left to grow. Patience is needed to truly appreciate the beauty of something."

"If you say so."

Vil smiled slightly at this, glad that you were somewhat compliant to his gentle attempts at giving you direction. He would certainly be far less patient and gentle were you anyone other than his beloved Human. He doubted he would even be so patient with Rook. To be fair, though, Rook hardly complained about much, even if the Drider wasn't particularly comfortable or at ease.

"What do you think of this top now it is cinched properly, Rook?"

"Travail merveilleux, roi du Poison. I was unsure about the draping of the garment, but as always you have a keen eye for such things. Mon Trickster does look divine."

You vaguely wondered, as the Harpy wrapped up his stitching, if you would be able to escape from the fashion inclined duo, and what it would take to achieve such a feat. It was while you were contemplating your daring stunt that an opportunity presented itself. Vil was holding up a new top that had yet to be fitted and was trying to see what color would look best on you when you caught the Harpy's hand and attention. He was clearly suspicious of your actions as he raised a single brow in question.

"You know, Vil, I think pink would look good on you."

"Pink? It depends on the shade of pink, but it would mostly clash with my feathers-"

A sudden gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth silenced the Harpy, a bright pink dusting across the Harpy's fair skin and highlighting the bright coloration around his eyes. Those violet orbs were wide with surprise and even Rook was taken aback at the bold action, unable to find words as you hopped down from the raised platform you had been on.

"Seems I'm right! Pink looks great on you. Thanks for the top, Vil!"

You were quick to abscond from the room as the Harpy held his cheek, still blushing a bright pink. Rook was enthused that you gifted the beautiful Vil with such a treasured sign of affection, trailing a finger down the ridge of his boon-companion's wings as he walked around the stunned Harpy.

"Rook, how do you think (Y/n) would look dressed in a wedding gown made from your silk and my feathers?"

"Absolutely divine, like you, Roi du poison."

~•§•~

"Why can't we just virtual visit class, HellKitty?"

"Because, Idia, you need to interact with the other students at some point. Push your comfort zone and be a student, for once."

Idia frowned as he hid behind his tablet, trying to avoid all of the curious looks he got from others in the halls. He was trailing behind you- more than a little unwilling on his part- to what was supposed to be his next class. If he had the choice, the both of you would be back in your dorm and just watching class through one of the cameras as you played videogames together.

Honestly, he was more than a little amused that you had adapted to the gamer-tag he gave you like your own name. Of course, it was no mistake that he chose the gamer-tag HellKitty for you. It was both a play on your ever faithful companion Grim the Hellcat, and the fact that Hellcats were ideal companions for Shinigami. As a Shinigami, why wouldn't he want you to be his Hellcat? Sure, you weren't actually a Hellcat, but you were raising one and that was good enough for him.

"-Idia? Idia!"

"What?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"... would you believe me if I said yes?"

You sighed and stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face the tall student head-on. Naturally, the moment you stopped, Idia was quick to crouch and curl in on himself, wanting to seem as small as possible despite his already gargantuan stature. Only his own ancestor and the Kelpie Trey were taller than him, though not by much. This gave you the ideal opportunity to put your plan in motion.

While Idia was distractedly staring at his tablet, you reached up and cupped his cheek. The physical contact had the Shinigami looking at you with wide and confused eyes, his hair beginning to burn almost white in anxiety. Out of all the things Idia was expecting when you placed your hand upon his cheek, he was immediately error-screened when you pressed a warm kiss against his blue lips.

Could this possibly be happening? To someone like him? Was it even true, or was it a trick? If it was a trick, he never wanted to know because all he could think was how wonderful your lips felt against his somewhat chapped lips.

As you pulled away, Idia was finally able to get somewhat of a grasp on his own frantic mind only to realize he no longer has his tablet in hand. A quick glance around told him that you had his tablet held securely in your hands, grinning at him playfully.

"Alright, UnderworldBlues, if you can get through class without freaking out, I'll give you the tablet back, and maybe even another kiss if you behave. Think you can do that?"

"..."

"Idia?"

"..."

"Did you seriously just faint-?"

~~

You sat on the arm of the thorn throne of Diasomnia, the common room occupied only by yourself, Lilia, and Malleus. Silver and Sebek had classes, so they were not present despite the unusual temper Malleus had as of late. Lilia suggested the two of you should spend some of your down time with Malleus to try and lift his dour emotions from where they seemed to be stuck for the past few days. As Lilia was a trusted friend of yours and Malleus was a strong ally, you figured there was no harm in spending time with the two Fae monsters.

Malleus had calmed considerably with you and Lilia by his side, holding his dark torch-like staff in his gloved claws. He now almost seemed to be dozing somewhat, even as you glanced at the staff resting against his leg. Somewhere, you wondered how easy it would be to distract the Dragon and escape with the clearly important item, if only to break up the monotony of the moment.

Idle hands were the devil's playthings and you were certainly more than a little bored perched next to the Dragon.

"Did you need something, my (Y/n)?"

"Hm?"

"You keep glancing in my direction as if you need to say something or would like some kind of assistance from me."

"Not really. I was just wondering why you have that staff? I thought you didn't have a magestone weapon since you're a Dragon?"

"It is true, I have very little use for a magestone myself, so you have likely never seen it before. This staff is my magestone, you are correct. You are also correct in assuming I have little use for weapons. My fire and my claws are my weapons, most times."

"So, it wouldn't be a big deal if someone took it away, like it was for Leona?"

"Of course not. Strong and versed in magic as Kingscholar may be, he still does not have the same adeptness in-"

The green eyes of the Dragon widened in surprise as you leaned over, catching his lips in a tender kiss that left him breathless. Despite all of his power and his abilities, he was rendered mute and dumb from the sudden show of affection. He didn't resist the pull of his staff from his hand even as you pulled back to grin triumphantly. In fact, he didn't seem to have much of a reaction other than a vaguely humored grin.

Though it was quite a small expression on the outside, Lilia could see how Malleus prepared to pounce from the tension in the Dragon's shoulders, wings, and tail. You were far too interested in the staff that now sat in your hands- examining the green gemstone affixed in the top- to realize that the Dragon was not about to let such a small show of affection satisfy his sudden cravings. A sudden tug at the front of your shirt had you locking lips with the Dragon yet again, being pulled into the lap of the beast who seemed all too eager to take what had been offered.

"T-Tsuno-!"

"Hush now, my dear mate. You should know better than to tease a Dragon. Didn't you know that even one little kiss is considered enough invitation to mate?"

"But I-"

"You," he interrupted, "will not be going anywhere for the next few days. I intend to christen this- our first day as official mates- with many sleepless nights spent entangled in the embrace of passion. Prepare yourself, my soft little Human mate, because you may regret teasing me so callously."

[pumpacti0n]

We should always be aware that it isn't some innocent mistake that authoritarian "leftists" have constantly failed to acknowledge systems of power other than a vulgar "anti-capitalism" or "anti-imperialism", like they've carelessly left out an ingredient in a cake recipe.

"Whoops, we've acknowledged one abusive hierarchy, but the other ones slipped through our fingers, silly us!" Nope. The reason this analysis of power isn't included in their ideology and praxis is because they consider these hierarchies useful to their projects.

This is why they'll mock or ignore discourse related to youth liberation, disability justice, gender self-determination or anti-patriarchal struggle, for example, or engage in apologetics for capitalist regimes in other countries -- they want to "have their cake, and eat it too".

A key reason why "the left", as some might call it, is not as powerful as it could be isn't because of some lack of discipline (or "degeneracy"), but rather a lack of intersectionality, a criticism that many of those within the black radical tradition, (black feminists and transfeminists more specifically,) have been highlighting in one way or another for at least 50 years.

Authoritarian "leftists" don't want to sacrifice the power that these hierarchies afford them, which explains why they're largely not opposed to prisons, borders, police, the enforcement of gender roles and even capitalism itself, if it's under the purview of the "socialist" ("workers") state and its bureaucrats.

And this is why I keep putting "leftist" in quotes...We're not free until we're all free, so the implication that we should settle for addressing one or two systems of domination while allowing all the others to flourish until we address them in some vague point in the far future is a distortion of what truly radical liberatory politics should entail.

It's simply a myth that we can address capitalism while leaving racism, ableism and misogyny etc. intact, as if they aren't mutually reinforced by one another, as if fascists and reactionaries will forget that they exist once capital is abolished. This is a fantasy, a delusion.

Authcoms love to pose questions like "without a state to enforce class rule, how will the proletariat defend itself?" but a better question would be: "if we fail to acknowledge the hierarchies that atomize and disempower the masses, how could we ever be a threat to capitalists in the first place? how would abandoning the most vulnerable populations serve the interests of the "working class" and "anti-imperial" struggle?

For example, (cis) women make up approximately 50% of the world's population -- so if women are still subjugated by patriarchal rule and the gendered division of labor, how will we have the numbers to fight?

Similarly, a significant portion of the world's population are currently incarcerated. If we don't abolish prisons, allowing the State to continue extracting labor from prisoners and destabilizing untold millions of social relations in the process, how can we hope to match or exceed their powers?

If we do not challenge the capitalist, productivist logic of endless resource accumulation, with its constant pollution of the environment and the displacement and erasure of indigenous peoples and non-human animals, there will be no habitable planet left for us during this "revolution", because we will have destroyed all of it in the name of profit...so what would be the point?

These aren't minor concerns that we can put off indefinitely, and it isn't some innocent mistake that they are left out of the discourse, but are instead deliberate attempts to co-opt liberation struggle for the sake of advancing counter-revolution and authoritarian projects.

It's no wonder then, that they are eager to dismiss any criticism of their projects the result of "western propaganda", as if these same critiques aren't leveraged by very people belonging to populations they constantly tokenize whenever it suits their agenda.

They'd much rather treat every marginalized community as some monolith or as primitive victims in need of saving and representation by a vanguard. This chauvinist, colonial, assimilationist, antisocial attitude is endemic in (often white,) authoritarian circles, because it forms the basis of their position towards racial and gender hierarchies, that they are a natural and inevitable factor of organization itself. They are wrong.

In this sense, they aren't meaningfully different from the capitalists they pretend to hate so much. In truth, they are just jealous and greedy for more cake.

[syrupfog]

Zoro has always had a nose for alcohol. It’s how he’s always able to find it whenever the cook finds new hiding spots— 

Used to. Used to find new hiding spots. He’s not their cook anymore. 

But he’s got a nose like a bloodhound for alcohol, which is how he ended up here, at what looks like an abandoned shrine to a god he doesn’t believe in, on the outskirts of Wano. 

It’s easy enough to dig up a floorboard and find a veritable treasure trove of sealed bottles filled with purple liquid. Saké of some kind, surely.

If it’s good enough for some god, it’s good enough for him. The nap he takes after the first bottle, though, is… vivid. 

The cook is there. Why is the cook there? Fuck him. But Zoro watches as he paces. He’s in some ridiculous getup with a cape.

And suddenly, in the way dreams often go, they’re in the Sunny. And Zoro is watching the cook embrace HIMSELF. Another Zoro. He’s got him in a death grip so strong Zoro himself can almost feel it, watching as he is from a distance.

But then the Zoro he’s watching us pushing Sanji off of him, and drawing his swords, and yelling something about betrayal and disloyalty, and Zoro sure does agree with THAT. 

He watches as Sanji steps back, hands up, placating, and that Zoro growls and lunges at him.

When Zoro wakes up, he vows to forget about Sanji and move on. He’s gone, and no useless dream is going to bring him back. 

He lives his day as a ronin as is the plan, but returns to his secret stash of saké at night. It’s good, free and plentiful.

And the next night his dream is just as vivid. 

It’s the Merry this time. The Sanji in his dream has his hair parted the old way, and there’s a young Zoro with both his eyes, still. Zoro growls in disgust. Again with the cook? 

It’s night in the dream and they’re on the deck,

Sanji’s got a hand laid gently over young Zoro’s, and with the other he’s pointing out a school of glowing fish. Zoro has a vague memory of the real moment, but not of the hand over his. 

Then Sanji leans over and KISSES young Zoro, which— okay. So this is one of THOSE dreams.

The ones full of longing that Zoro’s worked to squash. 

But he watches his younger self kiss back, and get everything Zoro never got. He’s bitter, looking at them. 

And then young Zoro is pushing him off, and yelling. That he’s a liar and a traitor and royalty playing at pirates.

Zoro’s really not sure about where that last part is coming from. But he watches the horror wash across Sanji’s face and something inside of him twinges a little. He hears a whispered “I didn’t want this,” but it’s covered by the sharp sound of swords drawn, and then nothing.

Zoro doesn’t return for the saké for two more nights. He has no dreams. 

When he returns, sips, and sleeps, he finds himself in the Baratie. 

He really doesn’t remember much of the place, so the details of it now surprise him. The whole crew is there, even Brook, all except Sanji

When he appears, from the back, he looks haggard. Exhausted. Sopping wet. He’s wearing a waiter’s uniform, and has none of the bravado Zoro remembers from the Baratie. 

“Your favorites?” He asks, sounding almost hopeful. “Sea king curry? Mikans? Cotton candy?”

He’s met with silence, everyone stopping what they’re doing. Luffy breaks it. “Why would we want anything YOU make?” He asks. “A failure like you doesn’t even deserve to serve the future pirate king.” 

Zoro, watching from his table in the back, sees the way Sanji breaks.

He shrinks in on himself. “Please,” he says. “I’ll do better.” 

“You couldn’t even keep them safe,” says a voice Zoro recognizes as his own, sitting among them. “You left Luffy to starve.” 

“N-no,” Sanji trembles. “Please, I couldn’t— I had to keep everyone safe—“

Zoro can’t listen to any more of this. He stands, chair scraping the floor loudly. 

Sanji’s eyes snap to him. Not the him at the table, but HIM. 

As the dream fades out, Zoro finds himself glued in place under the weight of that shocked stare.

He thinks there might be something wrong with the saké. 

But, after one night without it, his curiosity gets the best of him. 

The dream is in a castle, imposing stone walls and dark lighting. Sanji is there, in front of a mirror, his face covered in purple and green bruises.

He’s playing with gold cuffs around his wrists. 

Zoro steps up, out of the shadows, and Sanji sees him in the mirror. His eyes are red and swollen. 

“Mosshead,” he breathes. His breath hitches and he swipes at his face with the heel of his palm. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything. He’s used to another Zoro being here for this part. 

“I know you won’t forgive me,” Sanji says. “If— when I come back. I know even in my dreams it’s too late. But I need you to know I loved you.” 

“Loved?” Zoro questions.

“Love,” Sanji chokes out. “Love. Fuck. Always will, at this rate. Just— When I see you again, when we meet in Wano— please don’t pretend you forgive me when you don’t. I can’t— it feels like every dream I have you love me before you hate me and I can’t take that again. Please don’t even give me hope. I know this was unforgivable.” 

“Why’d you do it, then?” Zoro asks. This is a dream and can offer no real answers, but he still craves them. 

Sanji sobs, both hands on his face now. The bracelets rattle. “They said they had Zeff,” he says.

“They— you weren’t at Zou! They could’ve easily destroyed everyone there and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it! I just— I wasn’t supposed to live this long. I wasn’t supposed to live this WELL. I can’t keep being selfish.” 

Zoro scoffs. “Shut up,” he says, and Sanji flinches.

“Just fucking get back here or whatever. I don’t care about your excuses anymore. I’ll be waiting.” 

He turns to leave, and as he does, a pink haired girl with curly eyebrows runs into the room and says something about Luffy. Fucking weird dream.

Zoro wakes up, and he doesn’t drink the saké again. 

When he sees Sanji, it feels like it’s been a lifetime. The kimono he’s wearing is bright and his smile mirrors it. 

Then Sanji turns and catches sight of Zoro and his smile dims. 

Zoro feels angry all over again.

What was WITH all those fucking dreams? 

He ignores him as long as he can, until they’re together on the edge of a forest and Sanji’s sleeves roll up just enough that Zoro catches sight of two red rings, fading into brown, around his wrists. 

How… 

“Cook,” Zoro says.

Sanji looks to him. He looks almost… scared. “What, dumbass?” 

Zoro thinks about the cape with the silly outfit and the cuffs. He pauses. “Do you have a— sister? Pink hair?” 

Sanji looks BEWILDERED. “…yes?” He asks. “Is— has she been here?” 

Not physically, Zoro thinks.

Zoro takes a moment to recontextualize every dream he’s had since getting to Wano. 

“Cook,” he says. Slower. 

Sanji grits his teeth. “What,” he says. “Whatever you want to say, just spit it out.” 

Zoro’s not sure what he wants to say. He wants to say many things.

Things like “I don’t forgive you for leaving” and “you betrayed us” and “you betrayed ME”. But also now things like “what were those first two dreams? The ones with us?” And “did you stop having those dreams after I stopped” and “was it worth it” and “did you want to come home”

What he settles on is, “Is it all finished?” 

And maybe that was the worst possible question in the most vague way, but Sanji takes a moment and then nods, the motion a little jerk-y. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m— it’s finished.” 

“Good,” Zoro says. He steps up to him and Sanji flinches

Somehow, more than anything else, THAT is what convinces Zoro that the dreams were shared. That they were Sanji from the beginning. 

He ignores the flinch. He grabs Sanji’s wrist, avoiding the fading bruise, and squeezes to the edge of too tight. 

“You were a fucking idiot.”

Sanji goes to draw back but Zoro tugs him closer. “You were a fucking idiot and I did hate you for it. But I. Don’t.” 

Sanji freezes. He stares at the grass between them. 

“Don’t leave again,” Zoro says. “I don’t hate you. Don’t leave again.”

There’s tears on Sanji’s face that Zoro won’t mention. “Okay,” he says. “Shitty swordsman. Don’t get full of yourself.” 

But he leans forward. Hesitantly. Like a child waiting to be reprimanded. And when Zoro doesn’t, Sanji’s head lands on his shoulder.a

And Zoro doesn’t mention the tear tracks on his kimono or the way Sanji shakes apart in front of him. 

And Sanji doesn’t mention that Zoro doesn’t let go of his wrist. 

And maybe it’s a reoccurring problem, that neither of them mention things often enough. 

But today—

Today and tonight, it works in their favor. 

And when all this is over, no one else mentions is when they hold hands over the railing of the Sunny and watch the glowing fish pass by.

[sammylkcho]

Please.. Forgive me.

Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers

"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.

Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.

Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.

There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.

Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.

Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.

“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.

You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.

“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.

“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.

“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”

Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.

“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”

You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.

“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”

There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?

“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”

“You’re bleeding!”

Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.

You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.

You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.

When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.

“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.

Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.

You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.

You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.

Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.

It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.

“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.

You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.

The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.

The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.

That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.

You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.

Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.

You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.

Closer and closer.

The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.

Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.

His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.

Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.

When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.

The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.

"SEBASTIAN."

The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.

"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"

"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."

The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.

You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?

He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.

He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.

The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.

His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.

His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.

You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.

Then he looked at your attacker.

The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.

He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.

Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.

The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."

Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?

No.

No, he didn’t believe it.

He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.

He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.

More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.

…

He needed you.

[family-aya]

Read and enjoy a real story

With the breeze blowing every morning, there is a man named Islam, who is 20 years old. He works day and night to earn a living for his parents (the elderly). During the day, he works as a worker in one of the industrial stores (selling shoes). He works hard and does not tire. He endures hardship and fatigue in order to buy... All that his parents need is food, treatment, and care, even though he receives a small amount of money. However, he endures hardship, and at night he works as a guard for one of the residential homes.... He returns in the morning to take care of his parents and then returns to work...

Many years passed and that man grew up and became a mature and distinguished man. One day, while the man was inside the store, a beautiful girl named (Aya) entered upon him. She wanted to buy one of the shoes. She was 20 years old. Islam was impressed by that girl because of her beauty, commitment, and respect. Whenever she entered the place, his heart would beat and he did not know what to do. He just looked at her with his charming eyes, heart beating, and hands trembling. Islam fell in love with Aya,,

One day, Islam saw a verse by chance in a café. She laughed at him, greeted him, and asked him if there were new shoes to buy, and he was in shock and shame 😅 Finally, Islam was encouraged to talk to Aya, took her phone number, and began speaking in an official capacity, for example: Today there are new shoes, so come and visit the store 😅😅 After a while, he started talking over and over again to Aya. Aya liked Islam’s personality and his words. She fell in love with him and confessed to him. Aya and Islam became lovers, in love with each other. Aya Islam helped him overcome his ordeal with work and is now He owns a shoe store bearing their name, and he earned money and bought a new house and a car.... Islam proposes to Aya and they become a happy couple Years passed, and due to their intense love for each other, Aya gave birth to her first and second children, and after that her child, Muhammad, and the love grew and grew between them. They lived the most beautiful days of their lives with love, contentment, happiness, and peace. Aya became pregnant again with her fourth child, but... ......

One day we woke up to the sounds of bombing, destruction, fear and panic about what was happening. We left our home to a safe place. We were displaced more than once, and my wife was in the last months... (the story is in the other post) I lost everything, my child, my workplace, my home, my car, and everything I owned. Our life became hell Now I, my wife Aya, and my children are in your hands. We do not have the same mercy as God

We live in a torn and fragile tent that does not protect against the cold of winter, the heat of summer, or the constant bombing...

Therefore, I hope that you will support me and help me to preserve Aya and Islam’s family and for their love to continue Your donations can make a huge difference in our lives. It can give us hope for a better day. Can you help us?

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoskin @socalgal @briahyu @briahrogersss-blog @catchymemes @timetravellingkitty @meaganfoskin @socalgal @briahyu @briahrogersss-blog @chilewishlist @aces-and-anime @ghelgheli @mahoushojoe @mahouprince @northgazaupdates2 @rhubarbspring @sayruq @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @terroristiclyscreaming @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnot-blog @7bittersweet @tortiefrancis @toile @fromjanna @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptocromo @aristote @komsomolka @neptunerings @hotvampireadjacent @jenbekmanprojects @pukicho @questbedhead @viscerella @melia-an2fa @littlegermanboy

please help my family 😞

please help my family 😞

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.4k

You woke again nearing midday and, as expected, Ale was nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the still sensitive marks that she left on your neck and the soreness between your thighs, you would’ve thought it was all a pleasant dream. Something on your nightstand caught your eye as you stretched and when you picked it up, all the remaining doubt shattered. 

On the piece of paper was a phone number with a little note that said ‘text me?’ and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at the drawn smiley face at the end of it. You picked your phone up, added her to your contacts and sent her a hello-it’s-me text, noted the notification of an email from Derek, and then you got out of bed to get ready for the day.

When you returned to the bedroom from your shower, a message from Ale was waiting for you. 

‘Hey, good morning! Listen, as much as I’d love to… have fun with you again, I can’t see you the next few days.’

You laughed at the varying degrees of sad emojis that superseded her text. Then you messaged her back. 

‘That’s fine. Just text me when you’re free. And you already know where I am so…’

You abandoned your phone after that in favor of your laptop as you remembered Derek’s email. Upon opening your mail, you found it immediately.

‘Good news. Robert sealed a deal with a client and they want you to follow FC Barcelona in their Liga F campaign this season. We got 5 match passes so far–Robert believes that the client might be inclined to commission for more photos depending on how the club progresses throughout the season.

Find the passes in the attachment as well as the in-depth commission details but in short, apart from the customary team photos, they want photos of the following players prioritised in order: Alexia Putellas, Maria ‘Mapi’ Leon, and Caroline Graham Hansen. I’ll leave the research to you.

On an informal note, the window to decline is still open. As previously discussed, you don’t have to do this. Let me know what you decide as soon as possible.’

You checked the attached files and sure enough, you found the passes for Barcelona’s matches against the following clubs: Real Madrid, Roma, Alhama, Atletico Madrid, and Sporting Huelva. You noted the date for the one against Real Madrid–it was in a couple of days, the same one Ale suggested and a thrill of excitement went down your spine at the thought of possibly seeing her again. Maybe you should message her to let her know that you were going. 

You sent a confirmation to Derek before you created a new tab to begin your research. ‘Alexia Putellas’, you typed and hit enter. When the results came back, you stilled. 

You blinked. 

Then you blinked again.

Of all the places you’d expect to find Ale’s face, a search result about a professional football player was the last thing you could think of. But memories flashed unbidden through your mind: the exclusive night club, Ale’s vague answer about her job, the way her eyes shone whenever you mentioned sports or football, her reflexes, her physique, Ale… Alexia–it all made sense now. 

Groaning, you put your face in your hands as your cheeks and ears burnt from the embarrassment that flooded your veins. Oh, how dense could you get! She must’d thought you ignorant for not knowing who she was. Foolish! 

But then again… if she didn’t get a kick out of you not knowing, why did she allow the second time to happen? And why promise a third? The thought calmed you down enough to decide not to text Ale–no, Alexia–about this like you’d originally planned especially since you were most likely going to see her at the game anyway.

After another moment to regain your composure for the time being, you proceeded with your research. You clicked on an article, and an article lead to another, which carried you over to a video, and so on. By the end of it, evening had settled and you only managed to discover little. But from what you found out, there was no question to Alexia Putellas’ nascent legacy, both on and off the pitch–an undisputed, modern trailblazer for current and new generations of female athletes. You were gutted to know about her ACL injury though–a quick deviated search made it known to you how serious of an injury it was, especially for an athletic career–and you wondered when she would be able to play again or if she would be playing in the match against Real Madrid. After all, she did say she was going to be there.

You wrapped up your research about Alexia then and you finally moved on to Mapi Leon, then Caroline Graham Hansen. Afterwards, you briefed yourself on the rest of Barcelona Femeni’s 1st Division players as well as the rules of football to come up with a strategy to tackle this task.

A mixture of anxiety and excitement rushed through you as you settled in for the night at the thought of seeing Alexia again now that you know about her identity. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into the moment you let her take you to the dance floor but the pull was there from the very beginning. And you decided you were going to see this through to the end.

No. This wasn’t going to change anything at all.

–––

There it was: Estadi Johan Cruyff, home to Barcelona Femeni, stood proud in its blue and red glory.

There was still about an hour and a half left before kickoff but already, people had gathered and started to enter the stadium, you being one of them. Security scanned your press pass as you entered and you were told to head through a different corridor which lead you out to the pitch. Once inside, it was no surprise that the stadium’s interior was no less grand than the outside, the well-tended grass was just a taste to the quality that this place had to offer. 

Greeting the other photographers who’d settled in earlier as you walked, you searched for a spot and found it by the space adjacent to the corner flag farthest from the tunnel entrance. There, you placed your duffel bag and your portable stool as you worked to set up your equipment: you double-checked the batteries, attached the right lens to your camera, unwounded your monopod and connected it to your camera. 

By the time you looked up, there was already a significant crowd awaiting the players for their warm-ups. You took this chance to take a few shots of the still half-filled stadium, tweaking your settings as you did so and you waited for the players to come out.

About an hour before kickoff, you spied movements inside the tunnel and immediately, your eye was to your viewfinder.

Players from both teams emerged from the tunnel and names popped in your head as you scanned the faces from Barcelona, taking shots of them as they stepped foot on the grass and took off in a jog. There was no sign of Alexia though but you spotted two of your marks on the pitch so you wasted no time to frame them in your camera.

A moment later though, you heard a sudden cheer from the crowd followed by a collective flutter of camera shutters. You lifted your eye from the viewfinder, turned your head to the side and saw that your fellow photographers had their cameras focused to the direction of the tunnel entrance. Your heart quickened. Could it be? And sure enough as you looked to the sidelines, you could make out Alexia’s blonde hair and her unmistakable silhouette. Through your camera’s lens you were able to see her better. 

Alexia had on a black leather jacket paired with a top that revealed a strip of skin before the cut of her jeans, finishing her look off with a pair sneakers on and loose blonde hair. She was conversing with her coach, bumping fists and patting the backs of players from both teams who went over to greet her. Then she turned to the stands, waved at their supporters, and she moved close enough for pictures and autographs. She gave one last wave to the fans, shouted an encouraging word to her teammates with a fist in the air, before she headed back into the tunnel. While all of this was happening, you’d framed her through your lens yourself, taking the photos you needed, cheeks warm despite the cooling afternoon air. 

Then all the Barcelona players jogged over to the sidelines and huddled, side to side, arm in arm. You took a shot. Not long after that, all of them left the pitch. 

The game was about to start. 

Alexia wasn’t lying when she said the stadium would get crowded: the stands were filled with blues and reds, flags were flown and waved about, chanted anthems resounded loud and proud in the air–the atmosphere was nothing short of electric. 

You’d moved by the sideline close to the tunnel entrance for the beginning of the match along with your fellow photographers so you could capture Barcelona’s starting eleven. When the players came out, they were welcomed by singing and cheers from the crowd. And as they stood there, you took photos of the entire team first before you moved on to focus on Mapi and Caroline. 

When the whistle blew and the match began, you were back to your original spot, looking to the stands above the tunnel entrance as you tried to pick Alexia out from the sea of faces through your camera. You managed to a few minutes later, and you found her looking rather pensive: one arm crossed over her chest, the other resting on it as she rubbed her chin with her thumb, eyes focused down at the pitch with her brows slightly creased. It looked like longing to you, a burning desire to return home–to start playing football again. The sight evoked such a feeling in you that you couldn’t help but capture the moment. This shot, however, you were going to keep for yourself.

 Now that you knew where Alexia was, following the client’s requisites just got a lot easier. Up until the final whistle, you immersed yourself in your work and the game, focusing more on Mapi and Caroline as they were playing. There were times that allowed you to shift your camera to the stands to where Alexia was and took shots of her, too. By the time you knew it, the game ended and Barcelona won 1-0.

You expected a celebration from Barcelona because they were in their turf after all so you loaded up your camera with a freshly charged battery. The next thing you knew, Alexia was there with the team, hugging and patting them congratulations and her teammates beamed at her, happy to see her there. 

Click You took a shot. 

The players then began their procession around the stadium, waving at and signing things for their supporters. Through your camera, you saw Mapi signing the shirt of a young girl. Click. Next to her was Caroline, reaching over the barrier to sign a ball, smiling as she talked to the boy holding it. Click. 

The procession was near enough that you could hear their banters, growing louder as they approached where you were and the beating of your heart thumped as loud as the chants from the crowd. You congratulated the players as they passed and kept your camera away out of respect. You looked at the end of the line and you met Alexia’s gaze. She was smiling at you while she talked to Irene Paredes beside her and she never took her eyes off you. There was a gleam in them, something akin to mischief and… a challenge? If so, why? 

At that you raised an unimpressed brow at her, both a question and a statement. Your reaction seemed to amuse her because her smile turned into a full smirk.

The procession passed but Alexia lagged behind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Irene who threw Alexia a questioning look. You watched as Alexia waved her off before she began walking your way and you didn’t miss the fluttering of shutters from your fellow photographers’ cameras. Some called Alexia’s name to get her attention but she ignored them, her attention only at you. You barely had enough time to school your features and hide any signs of familiarity before she was standing in front of you.

“Hey, you. You made it here after all.” Alexia said cooly, lips slanted in a half-smile, one hand in a jean pocket.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry, but do I know you?” You asked in an excessively dry tone paired with an raised eyebrow, but you made sure your voice was just loud enough for her to hear. Catching your drift, Alexia laughed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to try and cover it up. 

“I suppose not,” she extended a hand towards you, “I’m Alexia, and I’m sorry about… you know.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Alexia. Congratulations on the win, by the way.” You shook her hand, ignored the way her warmth seeped into your skin, and hummed. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”

Alexia nodded as she took her hand back, lips quirked. “I think I know who you’re talking about. I think she also wants to know if she could stop by later tonight?” 

Your cheeks warmed and you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “I did tell her she could whenever she’s free.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.”

———

You braced your weight against the headboard, forehead over your folded arms, eyes barely open and the erotic sight in front of you did nothing to help the building flood in you. With your thighs bracing her head and from this angle, you could only see Alexia’s closed eyes but you felt her hands roaming and supporting your lower back as her mouth and tongue worked on you. 

She was taking her sweet time though, brushing her tongue over your clit lightly, sucking just enough to build up the pleasure but nothing too much to bring you over the edge. You whined because she did it again only with more pressure this time, circling your clit a few times before she moved away again. You were starting to learn that she liked to play; she liked to take her time and get as many reactions from you until she was satisfied, until she’d completely unravelled you.

A particularly cruel swipe of her tongue, accompanied by the obscenely wet sound it made, nearly incited a sob from your lips but the plea you made was nothing short of similar.

“Ale… please…” You panted.

“–my name.”

“Huh?” You whined out, not hearing what Alexia said after a flick from her tongue sent shivers down your spine.

“Say my name.”

Then she circled your clit with more urgency after she said that–demanding. You keened and ignored her, canting your hips forward to chase that delicious friction you were desperately searching for. 

“Ale… Ale… please!”

Then she stilled completely and you cried out in protest, eyes flying open to meet lidded hazel ones.

“What–”

“Say my name.” She licked your inner thigh deliberately close to where you wanted it the most.

“Alexia, pl–” You didn’t even need to beg because right after her name left your mouth, overwhelming heat was all you could feel as she ate you out earnestly. Her hands gripped your thighs so tight that you wouldn’t be able to pull away–not that you could ever do such a thing.

“Oh, fuck!” 

Euphoria tore through your body in concurrent waves with brutal intensity that it ripped the strength from your bones while your muscles shook helplessly. Even the gentle touches from Alexia tongue as she cleaned you up were enough to make you hiss from overstimulation. 

God… she really did a number on you this time.

After you finally calmed down, you shifted so that you could lay by Alexia’s side, kissing your way up from the column of her neck to her lips where you found your taste heavy on her tongue. You dragged your fingers from the crest of her hip to her breast, feeling the ridges of her hard-earned muscles as you did so and revelled in the way they tensed beneath your touch, the softness of her breast a beautiful contrast to the firmness of her stomach.

Alexia gasped when you rolled her nipple between your fingers and you gladly swallowed it as you deepened the kiss. You slotted your leg to apply pressure between her thighs, ample wetness coated your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at her arousal.

You nipped a path down between the valley of her breasts but not before you had given both of her nipples the attention they deserved. You continued your journey, licking and nipping at her skin as you moved down her toned stomach.

As soon as you reached her navel, she parted her legs to make space for you. You kissed her inner thighs, loving the way they tensed beneath your lips and as you trailed closer to her core, you flashed your gaze upwards to meet hers. When you finally got the first taste of her tonight, you watched intently through lidded eyes as she closed hers, dropping her head on the pillow and sighed out a long, low moan. 

You gave her a few slow and broad strokes, closing your eyes as you savoured her taste. When she began to urge her hips quicker, you picked up your pace all the while mapping her thighs and stomach with your palms.

You found you liked how responsive she was to your touches, liked the way she demanded for more which you gladly gave to her as she asked for them. And when she cradled the back of your head and buried her fingers in your hair so she could meet your tongue the way she wanted it, you moaned loudly, taking from the way she took hers from you.

“Yes, right there, just–” Her back arched and you clung to her hips like a lifeline. You rolled your tongue against her and sucked, not wanting to disrupt the pace of her fall. 

And fall, she did.

She came on your tongue and you accepted it with a grateful moan, slowing down your pace as she came back down from her high. It was sticky and heady, a reward that you lapped up eagerly, and from the pleased way Alexia threaded her fingers through your hair, she was satisfied. Like her, you took your time cleaning her up because after all it was only polite to do so and you enjoyed the way her leg muscle tensed when you kissed her clit one last time. 

Content with your work, you kissed the top of her left thigh as a form of gratitude but instead of making your way up, you traced the line of muscle that lead down to her knee where scars from her injury had carved themselves permanently into her skin.

You’d kissed those same scars the last time you were together without knowing the story behind them and now that you know, you dragged your lips over them ever more softly, looking Alexia in the eye as you did so. She watched you intently with lips slightly parted, eyes dark and lidded.

Alexia bent forward so she could reach out to you, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. Then she brushed her thumb over your upper lip to wipe the wetness there but before she could pull it away, you parted your lips and took her thumb into you mouth, sucking and licking off the taste there, never taking your eyes off hers.

“My god,” came her breathless murmur before she moaned out, “come here.”

Then she guided you to her mouth with her gentle grip on your chin and before you knew it, you were under her again, sighing in grateful surrender to the mercy of her and her hands. She kissed and ravaged you many times over–and you, her–that by the end of the night, you’d completely forgotten the weight of her name.

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ᴍᴀɪɴ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 2.𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 you mean to me

Synopsis: Soshiro, who didn't notice just how much pressure Kagami was experiencing, felt extremely guilty. He thought he's been expressing his love for her clearly but it seems like it wasn't enough. So he better make sure his beloved fiancee will understand it all night long.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: This is the very first smut i've ever done in my entire writing career so please do enjoy you horny ppl. I already immediately apologize if it's inadequate cuz I don't usually write this genre huhu. ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT GUYSSS🫶

Warning/s: Minors below 18+ is NOT allowed,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, NSFW

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

↓↓↓ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AS THIS CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT ↓↓↓

"Why don't we go somewhere else first. So you can do it comfortably?"

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This wasn't the first time Kagami visited her fiance's apartment. It was a 2 bedroom with a kitchen, living room, and bathroom apartment that is wide yet cozy enough for the two of them. She remember helping him choose among other options until he picked this particular place, saying that it would fit the two of them perfectly and he was right.

She sat down the sofa in the living room after removing her sandals and his jacket while he immediately went to the kitchen to get some refreshments. It wasn't often that she come here despite having a duplicate key to the place but she could still see the things she left behind during her visits, decorating his place. It fills her with warmth to see him have a special place for her things and the thought of how domestic it was. To her, his apartment felt more like home than the household she's been brought up.

He handed her a glass of water before sitting to which she gladly drank as it reminded her of how parched her throat was. On his other hand was a cold compress for her bruised cheek that she had long forgotten about. He placed her in his arms so casually yet making sure she was comfortable with it. His right hand keeping the compress in place as the other was playing with her hair as they relaxed in each other's arms.

To be honest, she'd fall asleep at that moment with how safe and protected he made her feel. It was late and they could still talk about it tomorrow but she might lose her courage if she didn't talk now.

And so, she began to tell him everything. She started with her insecurities about herself, her struggles at not being able to keep up with expectations, how her family uses it against her, how they kept forcing her to quit work to get married and bear an heir, how she actually did give in her resignation letter but was rejected, to the what happened earlier this day when their engagement was almost cancelled.

Soshiro just listened and let her talk. All this time, his fiancee was struggling yet he never really did anything to help her with it before making him angry at himself. He felt guilty because she would always listen to his problems yet he just let her keep all of this to herself. He would clench his jaw in anger at her family whenever she vaguely mentions the punishments and the treatment they gave to her. He knew she was still keeping things to herself despite saying she'll tell him everything, he just didn't know the extent of it. Perhaps she keeps it to herself as she knew just how he'll storm in their residence to give them a taste of their own medicine once he learns about it, with how she squeezes his hands during the times he felt pissed off. Most of all, he just felt guilty.

He could hear it in her voice just how lonely it was for her to endure it all alone. While she may not be blaming him, he sure was blaming himself. He should've been braver and more straightforward when it comes to confessing his feelings. Because he could correlate everything to each other, how her emotions, her family's actions, and his response significantly affects her entire well-being.

He hates how she doesn't cry from the treatment she receives from her family but she cried when they told her to leave him. He hates how she cried when he told her he loves her as if his words were her whole world. He hates how she couldn't be happy and how she thinks that calling herself failure is a normal. He hates how she could be content with just him. He hates how he's one of the root causes of her problems.

When she could be happy and have all of the great things in the world. When he would gladly give her what she wants and punish those who hurt her. He wants her not to be content with the crumbs of affection she gets for she deserved even more than that. He just want her to think of herself first and foremost. Her wants her to love herself and think of her happiness rather than anyone else's as nothing will be able to take it away from her. He won't let anyone take anymore from her.

Hoshina Soshiro doesn't know what to do to help her and he hates it.

.

.

"So yeah... That's all of it"

Kagami ended her speech in a casual tone, contrasting the heavy contents she just told. She felt lighter now that she told him but her heart sank when she saw how grave his expression was. She took away the compress he was holding that was unfortunately the poor victim of his irritation and placed it on the table.

"Everything I told you, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault"

She faced him and placed her forehead onto his, closing her eyes with a mellow smile. He hates how even after all of that she's the one comforting him instead the other way around.

"I didn't tell you about this because I wanted you to be my therapist. I just want you to know what to expect if you still... want to be with me. I have a lot of problems and I never want to burden you with it. This engagement was something our families have decided and it's perfectly fine if you chose not to continue with it. It was just my selfishness that made me do this because I want to stay by your side... but if you want to leave then I... "

.

.

.

.

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↓↓↓ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AS THIS CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT ↓↓↓

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.

.

.

.

"I love you"

Soshiro said it firmly before kissing her on the lips. He put her in his lap, wrapping an arm on her waist and the other firmly on the back of her head. He kissed her with such passion as if to show just how much he loves her. Kagami was so surprised by his sudden action yet she still wrapped her arms around his neck and responded with the same amount of passion.

Soshiro slipped his tongue in her mouth and explored every nook and corner, battling with her own tongue and mixing their salivas. Kagami struggled to breathe at the intimacy and could feel herself getting weaker, letting him to do what he wants. She couldn't even move an inch since his hand was firmly placed on the back of her head.

She was feeling lightheaded with every second that passes by before he finally retreated to stare at her. The trail of saliva that hang between their tongue made her flustered as she recalled what they just did. She couldn't find any words as she gazed at him with a dazed expression.

"You're always so kind"

He moved his hands to her cheeks and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"So thoughtful"

Her right eye.

"So considerate of others"

Her left eye.

"So hardworking"

Her left cheek.

"And brave"

Her nose.

"You're always so understanding"

Her right cheek.

"So unselfish"

Her jaw.

"Yet so lovely"

Her chin.

"You're so beautiful"

He looked at her straight in the eye, his red eyes staring deep into her soul and pecked her lips. So tender, so gentle, in contrast to his passionate kiss from earlier.

His compliments are things he always says to her yet hearing it being said so lovingly like he was ingraining those words into her makes her so full. She couldn't stop her emotions as they fell down her eyes. His fingers wiping the tears away.

He leaned down once more and kissed her. This time it was slow and steady as he gently guided her body down the sofa. He trailed down her lips to her neck, his breath tickling her skin eliciting a sigh. His hands that had no longer to go reached for her own, interlocking their fingers.

"S-soshiro~"

His lips sucking and nipping on the skin leaving light marks. She couldn't help but call out his name as he keeps on doing so all over her neck. Her sense of touch has always been one of her most sensitive senses along her hearing so the combo of his gentle kisses, occasional licks and deliberate sucking was far too much. She couldn't keep gasps and moans nor could she keep her body from squirming under his touch.

The kimono she was wearing was loosening from all her squirming thus exposing her collarbones and the skin beneath it. The sight was enough to make Soshiro go crazy, as if her moans weren't taking a toll on his self control already. But not yet... He still has to shown her how precious she is...

He stopped his actions and looked her in the eyes to ask for consent. Giving her words of affirmations and comfort as he does.

"I can't even begin to know just how much pain and sadness you must've felt this whole time nor do I know what I can do to help you. But I promise to always stay by your side and be there when you need me."

"I want to show you just how precious you are... Will you let me?"

Touched by his affection and consideration, Kagami nodded her head. She may not believe in herself but she believes in his words. If it's him then she's fine with anything.

"Yes... I'm all yours"

She reached out to his head and brought them together in a kiss. He picked her up in his arms while maintaining contact and brought her to his bed. He only broke contact to place her gently on the bed, then topping her dazzled form.

"I love you, Kagami"

"I love you too, Soshiro"

He placed one more kiss on her lips then proceeded to untie the sash of her kimono. The hold that her clothes had on her body loosened and became non-existent as he threw the sash on the ground. There she was in her naked glory looking at him with eyes filled with innocence yet her body filled with seduction. He couldn't help but stare at the milky white skin that seemed to have never been touched by sunlight, riddled with faded scars from battle wounds and her past. He stopped himself from once again feeling the bubbling anger towards her family to focus on her only.

She tried cover herself after seeing the slight hesitance in his eyes but he stopped her from doing so.

"You're gorgeous"

Flustered from the new compliment, she stopped struggling but continues to squirm under his intense gaze. His red eyes seemingly memorizing her body in evey nooks and crannies. He looked at her mounds that weren't small nor big, just the perfect size for her physique. Her stomach that was so flat and sexy he couldn't help but caress it. He could see the abs hidden by her sleeper build whenever her muscles would tense and he couldn't help but trace it. Then down that was her womb covered by her purple underwear that was soaked wet from her continuous arousal. He couldn't help but lick his lips at how sexy it looked, feeling his own throbbing hard.

Her womb and stomach. If they were to have a baby then those two would be the most obvious place for it. He imagines her belly being swollen from the child they'll produce once he gives her his sperm. He traces that area, purposely slipping his fingers in the underwear and grazing her clit earning a gasp from her. Her thighs pressed so close to each other, he wanted to pry it open and...

"Soshiro, please stop staring already"

She looks so pretty and so sexy that he wonders how he got so lucky to have her. He wanted to touch her immediately, to make love and have babies but not yet. It's not the time yet.

"Tell me, Kagami. What do you want me to do?"

He leaned down to her ear and asked in a whisper. A wide smirk in his face at seeing the blood rush to it. She looked at him with a pout, her face filled with desperation due to his teasings. She bit her lips in hesitance.

"Please"

"Hmm?"

He mused, continuing to move his hands up and down her stomach, purposely grazing her breast with one while the other the place between her thighs.

"Please, Soshiro"

She gripped on his arm, pleading with her eyes. It was glistening from all the yearning and lust and he couldn't help but be captivated by it. He bit his own lips as he tried to resist but she makes it so hard for him to do so. Giving in, he once again devoured her lips participating in a battle of tongues. Then he moved down, licking and kissing her jaw to her neck then to her collarbones, kissing it and sucking on it. Both his hands now touching her breasts, squeezing it basking in how soft it was, with his finger pinching her nipples. His clothed knee finding its way between her legs and separating them as he presses it against her heat, grinding against it.

Kagami was a blubbering mess from how overstimulated she was. She's too sensitive to his touch, reacting to every little detail that she felt like her brain was a mush. She kept on calling out his name, moaning and gasping so desperately that he wonders how she'd react once they finally did it.

He traced a line with his tongue to the area between her breast after he finished placing hickeys on her collar. He kept on marking his way until he reached the peak of her left mound. With bated breath, he placed it in his mouth, sucking like a baby. His free hand now stroking her sides.

Kagami's eyes widened as she felt the soft, warm muscle on the bundle of nerves on her chest. As he kept on sucking on her nipple, biting it and circling around it after with his other hand massaging and pinching her abused nipple. The pleasure was too much as he keeps on stimulating her other areas that she could feel the knot of her stomach starting to come undone.

"So-ahh-shiro~ There's.. There's something coming out ahhh~ stop~"

When Soshiro heard that, he didn't stop but rather became more aggressive, his free hand foregoing her sides to touch the little bundle of nerves down there. He pressed on her clothed clit and circled around it with his thumb in a fast motion. That addition fastened the process to which she came with a loud moan. He stopped what he's doing to give her some time to rest and seeing her wasted expression boosted his ego. She was still recovering from her high, panting hard when he said...

"We're not done yet"

She glanced down at him to see him place wet kisses on her stomach. She didn't notice it before but he was clearly touching and kissing on her scars tenderly. Even though it was already fading he still chooses to pay attention to it and that gave her butterflies. But as he went down a bit more, she gulped.

He was in between her legs placing a soft kiss on the hem of her underwear then leaning back to observe the soaked spot. Earlier, it was just a small spot but now it was soaked after cumming for the first time. He placed a little kiss on her clothed heat, specifically where it was soaked before proceeding to remove her panties. As soon as he saw it, he let out a gasp like a child finding a new favorite toy, she could see the excitement on his face. She hurriedly tried to close it but her body was still weak from all of that pleasure that she couldn't fight back from his hands.

His grip on her thighs was strong as he bit and sucked on her inner slowly going down again. Getting nearer and nearer her unclothed heat this time. His tongue giving it a long lick starting from her hole to her clit. He sat back up to show her his expression as he savored her juices, licking his lips at the end.

"Yum~"

He gave her a final smirk before burying himself down there once again, this time shamelessly lapping up all the juices she's producing. Her heart was beating so fast from embarrassment at his eagerness and teasing but she couldn't do anything as her body trembled from the pleasure. Her voice music to his ears knowing that he was the cause of this symphony. The nectar she was producing was so addicting that he couldn't help but come back for more. He needed more so he removed his hands from her thighs to let it rub her clit and the other place a finger in her hole.

She gasped at the unfamiliar sensation inside her, how his finger moved around in whatever motions trying to find something. He pumped it inside out slowly to gauge out her reactions. Glancing back at her face, he could see just how much his actions were affecting her so he went back in to further pleasure her. He just wanted to give her so much love y'know.

He added another finger, scissoring inside and curling making her moan even louder. His tongue joining in despite how tight it was getting. Of course he never forgot her bundle of joy. He is taking his sweet time as he wanted to find that sweet spot, the spot would elicit an even louder moan. He pumped in and out maintaining a pace moving it around until he finally finds that gummy area. He inserted another finger and went faster, hitting that same spot over and over again. Partnered with her clit being tortured by the fast paced circling and rubbing, it didn't take long for her to come again. She clenched his hair and almost strangled him with her thighs yet he still didn't stop as he rode her high.

"Too much! It's too much!"

She could feel her hips trembling so hard yet he hasn't stopped at all, maintaining that fast paced pumping and wriggling, his thumb abusing her clit even further and his tongue lapping up everything.

She was seeing stars from the overstimulation, her eyes going to the back of her head as she kept of moaning, no longer able to form coherent sentences. She could feel another wave coming down, tilting her head back and arching her back, she released again.

Finally giving her mercy, Soshiro stopped it all at once. He removed his fingers from her heat and watched her body still trembling. He removed the restricting clothing that was now sticky from sweat in their workout. His pants unbuckled, freeing his member. It was throbbing red and physically hurting from the previous constriction. It was hard from arousal and has been leaking with precum since earlier wanting to finally have a release. He watched the woman he loves slowly recovering yet still out of her mind as he stroked his member, just watching her fucked out image was making it twitch and as he remembered her reactions from earlier, it didn't take long for him to pump out his own release.

Feeling something warm and sticky landing on her stomach, Kagami focused her eyes to see her fiance, now naked, touching his own member. She couldn't help but bite her lips at the sight, from how lean and muscular it was, even more so as she looked at his face full of concentration as he rode his high.

"You liking the sight?"

He asked her with a smirk, noticing her blatant oogling. It made her blush again before looking away, though she didn't hide her nod from him earning her a chuckle.

"Sorry I don't have a condom so..."

He completely removed his own clothing, proudly exhibiting his member. It was on the leaner side yet longer at around 6-7 inches. He was preparing to go and take care of his problem by himself.

"It's fine if we don't use one. I-I'm ready for it but if you aren't then I..."

She tried to sit up to go try and help him but was down again. She usually have a lot of strength and stamina yet this activity greatly consumes it all. He went to sit down beside her and hugged her, placing a kiss on her head.

"I'm also fine with it but are you sure?"

"Yeah though I... I can still try to help you with that"

Stuttering a bit about her offer, Kagami couldn't help but let out a shy look. Soshiro chuckled at her conviction and willingness to help but...

"Maybe next time"

They kissed each other passionately before he moved back on top of her and readied to position himself. They both know what this means are fully ready to accept what happens next. For now, they've got important matters to attend to.

Looking at each other in the eye, fingers interlocked together, he went inside. It was a complete different experience compared to earlier. Kagami could feel an even longer length than his fingers reaching far deeper into her hole, she let out a gasp from how it completely filled her up. Soshiro, though, had to give it his all not to immediately cum from how tight she was. He pressed his forehead on hers as his brows furrowed in deep concentration, letting out grunts. And when he finally got it all in, he waited for her signal before moving.

He started the pace slow and sensual, wanting their first time to be something special, to be making love and not just sex. He was going deep and accurately hitting her spot yet never changing the pace. Looking at each other in the eyes, giving out a smile despite the moaning and grunting. They were completely matching each other's movements, proof that they've known each other for a long time to know what to do next, despite this being their first time.

He would whisper to her sweet nothings, praises, and words of assurance. Rubbing her hand and bringing it up to kiss it. He's clearly proven to her just how much she means to him and it fills her with so much joy.

"I think i'm the happiest woman in the world right now"

With the tears falling down her eyes once more, never looking away from his, she thanked him to which he shook his head.

"You'll be the happiest forever, not just now"

He made her a promise, he said it with much certainty that she felt like it's true... She believe it to be true. They both share a laughter even as they both feel their orgasms coming closer.

"I love you, Soshiro"

"I love you too, Kagami"

With their lips pressed against each other, they moved their bodies in synchronicity getting more desperate after each stroke. Both wanting to reach their orgasms in a feral attempt, their feelings for each other so overflowing until finally... Finally, they came together, truly becoming one with each other. They ride their high together and stopped.

"I love you"

They looked at each other and let out another round of chuckles and giggles.

"Uzui Kagami, you are the loveliest woman I've ever met and I'm honored to be chosen to stay by your side"

"Hoshina Soshiro, you're the kindest man I've ever met and I'm thankful that you chose to stay by my side"

<- Previous Next ->

[badaboomx]

Bada Lee as your girlfriend (NSFW)

If you can even call these NSFW. They're as vague as the word vague, but here's from yours truly, BOOM.

Part 1 (The Fluffy part) is HERE

Once you both start kissing each other, you can't stop.

A match made in heaven when you both realized how much you loved doing it. But how troublesome when a chaste kiss in public always left you both too distracted to do your daily duties. 

Yes, you both had accidentally set each other off in public after a chaste kiss gone deeper. While the excitement of doing such a thing in the public was intoxicating, it was hella inconvenient.

So, kissing has been restrained to whenever you two are alone together.

At home? You both let loose and melted onto each other. 

You have no idea if you’ve gotten better at kissing thanks to Bada or vice versa.

All you know is that you both are melted little puddles in each other’s embrace.

You’ve both gotten out to dates or events late because you’ve been caught up cuddling and kissing.

In private, you both are way touchier with one another, too.

Someone is cooking? Well, the other is backhugging and staying there like a Koala until whatever is cooking is ready.

Watching a movie together? Bada will be your bed and she WILL be rubbing your back consistently throughout.

Reading? You better believe you’re cuddling while you both read anything.

Driving? Hand on thigh, for certain.

Doing different things in the same room? You better believe Bada will make sure to be as near as possible.

Behind the tough exterior that Bada puts on while performing, and behind the restraint she shows in public, she's really a soft, needy lady.

And when she's really needy, you'll KNOW it. The moment she gets home, she looks at you a certain way, she approaches you slowly like she's holding herself back from tackling you, she holds you in the way that's possessive, yearning, needy -- god, she speaks in that soft, low tone of hers that makes you melt each time. 

Depending on the mood, she’ll behave differently. 

When she’s feeling a slower, tender vibe, she would move at a languid pace. Caressing your arm with her fingertips, taking her time to enjoy the touch; planting longing kisses in random places of your body, primarily on your shoulders and forehead, playfully (and adoringly) tickling you or squeezing you in places. Regardless of whether she wants to top or bottom, she relishes in every second of your presence and delights herself in making you giggle and smile in between all of it just like she smiles.

When she feels in a fierce mood, she would move in a way that you could only describe as dominant, possessive, regardless of wanting to top or bottom. She’s direct with her needs, approaching you with clear desire in her eyes. She speaks in that low tone of hers, with an added little growl sometimes, assessing whether or not you respond well to simple touches in those areas that get you all riled up. Then, grabbing you firmly, using her towering height to corner you against a counter or a wall to attack your neck or ear with bites and kisses. 

If there’s something that drives Bada crazy is hearing you whine or moan, so it’s her mission to pull them out of you anytime. To even hear you hold back a moan or hold back a little gasp when she catches you off guard is the best music you can give her. 

Pull Bada’s hair a little or bite a certain spot on her neck and she won’t hold back her own, trust. 

Can we talk about how fucking satisfying it is to be with Bada?

She loves to experiment things, to explore everything, so you know you’re not going to be left unattended.

And she WILL use every little button you have to drive you crazy.

She’s a dancer, baby. I mean, you know that rhythm, that stamina, and that dexterity are super useful to her.

That cool persona on stage seeps in in bed sometime, but there’s so many sides to her that not many people know and that YOU get to watch. It’s fascinating to witness.

She’s a goddess, but you’re fast becoming her kryptonite and she knows that.

That’s why she makes sure you’re pleased and fulfilled every time.

You’re hers, and hers only. And she will make sure you don’t regret it.

[koinotame]

i do (only exist for you)

word count: 1.8K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification (not at reader), violence (relatively vague/not super explicit but not minor), emetophobia, they/them is used for reader

characters included: childe

a/n: this is a repost (heavily edited in some parts, lightly edited in others)! and a sequel to this. like the previous installment, you can read this as a standalone modern au thing, but it'll make more sense with the previous context. also on ao3! next part

the two of you aren’t actually married yet, but with the way your ajax treats you, you might as well be.

"I’ve placed your lunch in your bag along with the homework assignments you left out yesterday. remember to eat it this time, okay? and don’t forget the train leaves late today." you’re too sleepy to protest as he sticks your arms into a coat, one that you only realise is his once he’s done zipping it up.

"we’re going to the same class," you supply groggily, rubbing at your eye while he smoothes out your hair. "…didn’t you go to sleep after me? where do you get all this energy from?"

"yeah, but it feels more homely if I tell you all this before we leave the apartment." he says, smoothening out your hair again (you think he just likes having an excuse to touch you) and wrapping a scarf loosely around your neck.

you’re surprised he hasn’t started calling it our apartment at this point, but you’re not going to give him the idea lest he actually starts doing so.

he puts a surprising amount of effort into tucking the scarf into his coat properly, and you have to admit he’s very good at bundling you up. you feel super cozy. "being able to care for you is all the motivation I need to wake up early to make you breakfast."

you hum, pressing your head into his shoulder, close to drifting off again, until his words set in and you recoil. "wait wait, how early exactly? please tell me you got more than three hours of sleep."

he laughs heartily, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. "aww, are you worried about me?" you weakly swat at his arm and he laughs again. "don’t worry, don’t worry, not that early. I woke up at seven."

you sigh and he pulls you in for a kiss. when he pulls away, his eyes are full of adoration. "I love you."

"the bed was empty when I woke up at six briefly."

he chuckles again, but it has a nervous tinge this time. "aha, busted…"

you sigh once more, zipping up his coat for him. he beams down at you as you do, fondness dancing in the way his eyes creak whenever he’s in your presence. "come on, we’re going to be late."

"right," he says, picking up both of your bags and holding on to your hand and then somehow still locking the door behind you singlehandedly.

the two of you burst out laughing when you realise he forgot to take off his apron when you arrive and take off your coats.

"all the more to prove to everyone else I’m your soon-to-be husband." he winks at you, ruffling your hair when you tell him there’s still a couple years left before either of you graduate.

"ajax."

he sighs contently, nuzzling into you. "I love it when you say my name."

"ajax," you say his name slightly louder, "let me out."

the arms around you tighten. "no."

you groan, throwing your head back. "ajax, I need to load the washing machine."

he whines against the crook of your neck. "no, you don’t."

"ajax…"

"I can do it later, okay? don’t leave my arms."

"your arms are not the only thing trapping me here," you say, but his legs just tighten around you and you find yourself even more pressed against his chest. "and someone needs to do it."

he whines again. "I don’t like it when you leave my arms."

you poke his side, unimpressed. "we can hold hands while I do it then."

he tuts, pressing his face deeper into your hair. the next time he speaks, it’s directly above your ear. he sounds more serious than he usually does. "but you shouldn’t have to do any work. I wish you just sat back and let me do it all."

you sigh. this sort of conversation has been happening more and more frequently lately, especially since you accepted his proposal. "come on, not this again… a healthy relationship is about giving and taking in eq—"

"but I want to do all the giving and I want you to do all the taking." you close your mouth and stop talking when he presses you further into him. "I meant it, you know? I want to take care of you."

frustration seeps through his words when he speaks, more than you’ve ever heard from him before. "aren’t people supposed to like it when they’re spoiled? you’re the most special person in my life, and I want to do everything for you. you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, and I hate that this world is so against that. if this were…"

he cuts himself off and quiets for a few seconds. with your face still pressed against his chest, the only thing you can hear is your quiet breathing and his heartbeat.

"I hate that you won’t let me treat you like you should be treated."

"ajax…" your hand moves up from where it was resting on his back to comb through his hair gently.

he whimpers and squishes his face against the side of your head. "I really love it when you say my name."

both of you remain quiet for a bit. you’re tempted to forget about the laundry, close your eyes and drift off, when ajax speaks up again. "I’m yours. you shouldn’t hesitate to make use of me."

even in the heat of the moment, that sort of line sounds a lot more romantic in fiction.

he coos into your ear when you scratch his head lightly. "ajax, you don’t just exist to be used by others. there’s more to you than just that."

"I do," he insists, but quiets down and doesn’t argue further.

"I do only exist for you," he says again, a while later when you’ve pretty much fallen asleep in his arms.

even after two years of living together, you still refuse to use him as you should or let him treat you like you deserve to be treated. it makes him feel all sorts of bitter; he doesn’t want to (and doesn’t deserve to) force you into anything, but whenever you push him away, it stings.

whenever you put distance between the two of you and insist on straining yourself, he feels like he’s failed you. it just further drives home that he’s really so worthless that you can’t rely on him, and he knows this isn’t a problem getting stronger for you will fix.

it’s been a long, long time since he felt this useless. he loathes the feeling.

ajax stretches, not missing the opportunity to flex his body. "that was fun! I don’t mind if you cling onto me a bit more next time, though… you’re so cute when you get startled by the jumpscares."

"mhm, sure." you pay his obvious attempt at showing off no mind and instead let out a yawn. "want to get something to eat? I’m hungry."

"are you sure you don’t want to head home?" you nod, reaching for his hand. he intertwines his fingers with yours eagerly. "do you have any place in mind? my treat."

"it’s always your treat." you roll your eyes, but lead him towards the restaurant you’d been thinking of regardless.

"of course," he laughs. "what sort of fiancé would I be if I didn’t pay for your food?"

"what sort of fiancé does that make me, then?"

he laughs and you remember why you fell in love with him again.

"don’t be silly. it’s your job to get spoiled rotten by me." he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer to him, and presses his lips to your cheek.

"if you spoil me too much I’ll go bad for real, you know."

despite the joking undertone, he looks displeased and he tugs on your cheek, pouting. "of course not. and even if you did, I’ll still love you."

you huff, unable to stop yourself from laughing, and elbow him. "you’re so—"

you cut yourself off when you notice the hooded person standing imposingly in front of both of you. immediately, you feel ajax stiffen and step slightly in front of you, but he doesn’t seem particularly threatened so much as just wary and protective.

once he realises he’s been noticed, the man in front of the both of you tilts his head. "hand over all your money, and I won’t have to get violent."

"hah," ajax barks, sardonic and entirely foreign to your ears. "I don’t think so."

the next few moments go by in a flash.

grunting, the attempted mugger pulls out a knife and dives forward. you barely register how you’ve stepped back out of instinct before he’s completely soaked and there’s a large gash across his torso.

nobody moves for a couple seconds, until the guy’s eyes trail down hesitantly and he goes white. his arms immediately come to cradle his stomach. "what the fuck—"

it takes you another second to realise what’s happened. bile rises up your throat.

there’s a part of you that’s relieved it’s winter, that the sun has already set and there’s not too many people around, that you’re not about to get robbed at knifepoint.

"I’ll kill you if you touch them." your fiancé’s tone is much darker than you’ve ever heard when he speaks. you’ve always known he wasn’t the type to shy away from conflict, but the way he says it just after cutting open someone else makes the hair on your arms raise.

"you fucking bitch—" the other guy doesn’t get a chance to get anything else out before ajax kicks him. you feel your stomach tense at the squelching sound he makes when ajax’s foot comes into contact with his torso.

you feel worse when he grabs the man’s hair and wrist, a pained shout and loud crunch accompanying the drop of the knife.

the hairs at the base of your head rise at his tone. "I told you, don’t touch them." you block out the rest of what he says, but from the way the mugger’s face pales even further it can’t have been anything good.

you swallow down the urge to vomit and tug on ajax’s sleeve. for a moment, you’re worried he’s going to turn violent on you, but it barely takes him a second to turn to you, and when he does his face is relaxed and smiling like he usually does.

whatever your expression looks like, he softens as soon as he sees it. his hands are off the mugger soon and then he’s all but pulling you into his chest. you think you hear the guy run off, but it’s hard to focus on anything but the way ajax soothingly rubs your back and murmurs apologies into the crown of your head.

if he feels how much you’re shaking, he doesn’t comment on it. or rather, he just apologises more.

you have a feeling he’s apologising more for the fact that you saw him like that and that he scared you than what he actually did.

and above all, you hate the part of you that feels exhilarated about him loving you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not inviting my transfem friend to my all girls skinny dipping/camping weekend with my cisfem friends? TW for talking about rape

Okay, so the title leaves out a lot of info, so please read through this before making a judgement. There are four friends in total including me and said tranfem friend who I will call Lilly. I will refer to the other two friends as Nicole and June. This all took place not too long ago.

Also, if you are going to judge me in the comments please call me Nick because I keep getting OP confused with the mod whenever I read through other AITA posts and it hurts my brain [e.g. "Nick you're an AH/NTA/etc" vs "OP you're and AH/NTA/etc"]

Now, onto the story.

The thing about this skinny dipping/camping weekend is that it isn't really a vacation trip but an exercise that Nicole, June, and I have planned as a way to help us get over the hatred and toxic self sexualization of our own bodies that we all develop as a result of rape.

The skinny dipping part is meant to give us a safe space to see other ciswomen with similar bodies in a nonsexualized space, and and to simply have fun while embrace our bodies as something to used to have fun with, not just a disgusting useless object for sex to be acted upon on. The camping part would be for us to regoup, share how we are feeling, if this exercise is working, etc, and to cry together if need be over some smores and hot chocolate.

Lilly, who we didn't know at the time if she is or isn't also a survivor [she isn't], did not know that this is an exercise rather then a get-away. Since telling her was an exercise would out all of us as survivors to her, we elected to just not tell her about the trip all together since we didn't want to hurt her feelings and think she was being excluded from one our girl weekends. However, the day before we left for the trip she found out from Lilly's brother gossiping with her. She texted me asking to be invited, which left me in an very awkward spot.

Not only did I not budget food for a fourth person, but well, even though we could make it work, I know if I invited her we'd have to cancel the exercise aspect and turn an outing that was ment to be healing into just another weekend because while she is a women, she does have penis, which is a body part that is extremely triggering for myself and likely Nicole and June to see. I know that I alone, even in an innocent, fun, platonic environment, seeing a penis no matter who's it on would just cause me flashbacks and a panic attack. Who knows what kind of reactions it would cause Nicole and June.

I felt bad, but not wanting to cancel the exercise and not wanting to tell her it was an exercise because I don't want her to know that I'm, or to out Nicole and June without their permission, as survivors, I just gave her the excuse that I didn't have the money to feed four people and that I will save up a lot this month so next month all four of us can go camping together. She was understandablely hurt since she just thought she was being excluded, and I tried to reassure her, but it didn't really work. I contemplated a way to vaguely tell her it wasn't a typical girl's night, but it all sounded like toxic backtracking and so I just left it as it was.

I told Nicole and June about this and though they felt bad too, none of us saw how else to handle this because none of us want Lilly to know we're survivors. We agreed to take Lilly out to dinner and a spa when got back, and told her these plans, then went on our trip.

It was a very healing exercise for me and Nicole and June, and though all of us felt guilty for lying and excluding her, we all agreed afterwards we needed the trip.

However when I found the time to meet up with Lilly alone for lunch a day after we got back, she understandablely called me out for what see saw as being unreasonablely excluded. She yelled at me, called me toxic, a bad friend, etc, which I don't blame her for because if i was in her shoes, I would have felt just as betrayed and hurt.

I tried to calm her down though and use the budgeting excuse, but she just wouldn't stop yelling which is huge trigger for me. After two hours; being kicked out of the restaurant, driving her home, and brought inside her home, all of which I continually being yelled at, I just couldn't cope any more and broke down into tears while in a half panic and told her that it was a trip for me to heal as a rape victim and Nicole and June we're just there as support to help me since they were the only ones who knew [I didn't want to out them] even though I didn't want her to know because I was so desperate just to not be yelled at and berated anymore.

Lilly calmed down after that then told be she understands but that I'm the asshole for not telling her sooner because while she isn't a survivor herself she would have loved to be there to support me. I tried to tell her I wasn't ready for her to know but she said that was just an excuse to go behind her back and excluded her, and that sometimes I need to suck it up and let people know what's going on. I tried to being up that I really, really wasn't ready, but she just kept calling it an excuse and told me to leave once I apologized a few times. I went home, cried for a while and once I was through having panic attacks I called Nicole and June and told them what had happen.

We talked for a while, and Nicole agreed with Lilly that I should have sucked it up and gave her the story that the trip was for me and they were there for support from the start, and June agrued that Lilly shouldn't have yelled and pushed and accepted that budgeting excuse because sometimes it is that way in real life, where a friend gets excluded in one thing, and that we already told her before we went on the trip that we'd make it up to her.

I feel like an asshole though even now, but with Lilly not responding to any texts or calls for a few days now, and Nicole and June still arguing about who was in the right, and me still feeling extremely emotional and raw from being screamed at, I don't know who to trust to be the judge of if I'm in the wrong or not.

Also while Lilly's yelling does sound kind of bad after writing it down, she does have abandonment issues and us seemingly excluding her likely triggered them. Please don't judge her on that, it wouldn't be fair since I broke down crying and made a baby of myself due to my own triggers and I have learned a lot more coping skills then she has. I promise she is a very sweet and kind person, she just hasn't learn ways to cope with her triggers yet.

I'm not asking if she was the asshole because I know I earn that yellling for triggering her even if it ended up trigginger me, I'm just asking if I'm the asshole for not telling her the trip was for me to heal rather then making an excuse about budgeting being why she couldn't come. Please only judge me, my friends are all great and it's only me who possibly messed up since I'm the one who lied!

What are these acronyms?

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 6 Eng Sub

VS SHOOTING and VS FALLING IN LOVE

It's the season 3 finale!

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This is the final episode of this season! We're both going to miss working on this project. When it comes to plans for the future, we're still figuring that part out, but rest assured that we'll keep everyone posted here if we have another project in the works. For the moment, we once again want to thank everyone who has spread the word or had a kind word for us in the tags and elsewhere.

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translation notes:

about “acknowledge the way I feel” (20:27)

The first, more literal translation of this line, which Hatano says on the bridge, was, “Can you accept my feelings?” That line definitely gets something across, but I knew we’d be leaving it open to varied interpretations–some of them inaccurate–if we didn’t make it more specific. I might go a little overboard in the specificity department sometimes. I think it’s probably due to a combination of my ADHD-related quirks and having spent too much time picking apart variables as a researcher. Whatever the reason, this time I was kind of in overdrive because this line seemed pretty important. 

I asked Snow some questions about what “accept” meant in this instance. In English–and in the American cultural context I’m used to–there are lots of specific ways to talk about a situation like this one. Someone in Hatano’s position in the US would have a plethora of options for inquiring about Mob’s thoughts and emotions and/or making requests about how he might respond to their feelings. Is Hatano asking Mob to simply believe that he has these feelings about him? To let him show these feelings toward him openly, even if he only allows this passively, without offering anything in return? To receive them in a way that implies he returns them or that otherwise implies some degree of connection between them? And so on. 

I was expecting cultural differences to come up around this line, but they came up in a way I wasn’t expecting. Snow responded by telling me that there wasn’t a really specific meaning behind the Japanese wording of this line and that that was characteristic of the Japanese language around such things. I knew that I was more intense than the average American about wanting to pinpoint the meanings of things, but it would seem that the average American is more intense about it than the average Japanese person. 

That was a really interesting insight (one that I’m still thinking about), but it still left me with a conundrum when it came to this line. I could stick with “accept,” since it had a kind of vagueness to it (which was part of the reason I started trying to reword the line in the first place). But I thought “accepting” feelings sounded closer than I’d like to possibly reciprocating them, and I knew from my conversation with Snow that that shouldn’t be implied here. 

I started looking at thesaurus entries and going down different synonym paths. I wanted a word that, in its broadest sense, would be asking very little of the other person. I figured if the Japanese wording was open to being interpreted as either asking for very little or asking for more, then the English wording should be something that could at least be taken as not asking for much, because the implication that Hatano wants more than that from Mob is already clearly present. 

When I came across “acknowledge,” it fit the bill. At first, I just thought of its meaning on a smaller scale. It’s not much to ask of someone to simply acknowledge something, in most contexts. 

But after just a little bit of thought, I realized it also had a useful kind of vagueness. Acknowledgement can be as small as a barely perceptible nod, but it’s also used to talk about thanking someone, giving credit, commending or honoring someone, even giving someone a reward. In a romantic context, depending on the specific story, you could imagine “acknowledge” meaning anything from “yeah, I see you over there” all the way to someone’s devotion being rewarded in all the ways they’ve hoped for. 

Some of these uses are more of a stretch and would only work in just the right context. The default meaning of the word is clearly on the more modest side. But that works well, too. I took this request as coming from a pretty humble, unassuming place and I figured “acknowledge” was reflective of that. 

I ended up being really happy with this word choice. Hopefully, it’ll get the right idea across to folks who watch the show with our subtitles, even if they don’t read this translation note. But I hope that reading this gets it across even more effectively.–Towel

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[theemporium]

Could you maybe write Jack Hughes and 🧸 ? Literally whatever you desire to write for this?

🍊

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

When Jack imagined himself having children, his dream was to share his love of the ice with them.

He would never push his kids to pursue hockey, or even necessarily like the sport (though he hoped they would). But he just wanted them to experience the same freedom and liberation he felt when he was young. He wanted them to experience the cold, nipping air against their cheeks as they raced up and down the rink, chasing each other the way he and his brothers used to. He wanted to share the place that always felt like a second home for him.

So, when your son was born, he was practically counting down the days to when he could take him on the ice.

And that day finally came on Noah Hughes’ third birthday. 

“Are you ready, bud?” Jack grinned as he kneeled in front of the bench his son was sat on, tugging off the little boots he had been wearing when he left the house. 

“I’m gonna be just like you!” Noah exclaimed, clapping his hands excitedly as he clocked the small pair of skates next to his father. “Just like Daddy!”

“Just like Daddy,” you repeated, your heart swooning at the sight as you pushed back your son’s curls from his forehead. “Maybe even better.”

Noah’s eyes widened comically. “Really? You think so?”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I think you’re gonna be better than Uncle Quinn and Uncle Luke too.”

“Obviously he will be better than them, they suck!” Jack said as he scrunched his nose, though it was hard to keep the mock look of disgust when he heard his son giggling. 

“You can’t say that, that’s not nice!” Noah scolded with a disapproving shake of his head. 

“Yeah, that’s not nice,” you repeated, pressing your lips together to hold back your own giggles.

“Maybe I should be listening to you, bud,” Jack laughed as his fingers moved expertly, lacing up the small pair of skates until they were secure. “There we go! You ready?”

Noah nodded his head quickly. “Quickly before the ice melts!”

“It’s not gonna melt, buddy,” Jack laughed, but he didn’t argue with his son as he lifted him into his arms, his skates already secure on his feet as he waddled towards the gate and stepped onto the ice. 

You stood by the sides, your phone practically glued to your hands as you recorded every little moment and took a million different photos. Jack was so patient, holding Noah’s hand and cheering whenever the boy managed to listen to the instructions he was given. It made your heart swoon to watch your two favourite boys look so at home on the ice.

“Look, Mama, I’m doing it myself!” Noah called out to you as he slowly pushed off the ice, gliding down the rink as his giggled echoed through the stadium.

Jack was grinning as he glanced over at you. You didn’t think his smile had dropped once since you entered the arena. 

“I want another one!” Jack said to you, giddy and high of the adrenaline from his own happiness. 

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

“I want as many as we can have,” Jack admitted as he looked towards Noah, his face beaming with affection and pride. 

“We’ll see,” you said vaguely, focusing on your son again. Though, it was reassuring to know the little plastic stick in your bedside drawer would be taken well by your husband.

.