#other people would probably have a better go of it so if anyone is in a similar situation pls don't let my words dissuade you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lustspren · 2 days ago

Text

Enchanted

Male reader x Loossemble's Gowon (playing Ashley).

tags: harvard student gowon, public sex, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, pussy eating.

word count: 8.2k

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Settling in a new state was a pain, especially if you were a college student who had just entered Harvard, no less. But that bar on the outskirts of campus had become your little refuge every weekend after doing your homework.

Not knowing anyone and not having any friends yet had led you to inevitably look for some entertainment on your own. That's how you found that gem: a wide three-story building—one of them underground—made of red brick and adorned with narrow colonial-style windows with pale wooden frames.

From the first moment you walked in there you were enthralled by the faint aroma of old wood and the freshly made coffee. There were spaces for all kinds of activities, mainly bars of course. But there were also tables to eat at, pool tables, dart boards, and even reading spaces with bookshelves where students like you could go to simply relax while doing their stuff.

Despite all these mini-ecosystems designed so that everyone could choose their preferred environment, all the activity was concentrated in the main bar on the second floor, where you spent most of your time and where you were at that very moment, on a cold Saturday at 8 pm.

The night was particularly quiet, lacking the usual crowds that there were at that time. It was probably due to the weather; you understood that many preferred to be in their rooms, warm under their blankets and enjoying their free time in a calm way. But you weren't doing too bad there, sitting on one of the stools in front of the semi-circular bar while drinking a beer and watching a Celtics game, well wrapped up in your windbreaker and winter hat.

There were few people around you, some watching the game as well and others just chatting among themselves at tables in the corners. The floor below, however, was and sounded busier since a birthday was being celebrated, and the drinks were slowly making the chatter blossom. You wouldn't have liked to be there at that moment; mass social events made you anxious, even more so when you had no one to talk to.

In any case, both places were better than being out there in the snow. Your gaze occasionally strayed to the window to look at it. The flakes floated slowly in the air, falling unhurriedly on the roofs and branches of the trees. It was late November, and the snowfall had only just begun, so there was still a while until Massachusetts looked like the North Pole itself. For now, however, it was nice.

But it wasn't all Christmas fantasy and candy and happiness. Unfortunately, final exam season was approaching since the end of the semester was in mid-December, and that meant doubling the effort and stress in equal measure. You were taking it easy, since you had practically every subject under control except for Molecular Genetics, but of course you wouldn't get too confident. In fact, you were enjoying that moment of relaxation since you would have to spend the whole next day studying without a break.

You had to admit that everything would have been easier if you belonged to one of the common study groups that were formed for these situations, but being a new student, you sadly had to settle for what little you had. That is, yourself. At least for now. Because you wished with all your heart that the situation would change soon.

Who was going to say that it would. Maybe not in the way you expected.

"Nah but I swear to god bruh, JT is kinda dumb sometimes," said the bartender, Jordan, while cleaning a glass. He was one of the ones watching the game with you.

"I mean, at least he tries," you said. "But in this game he needs to stop taking the shots."

"Oh god bro, they put me in the game and I'm making more threes than him."

While you, Jordan and two other guys were commenting on the game, another person sat down in the empty chair to your right. You didn't pay attention, as just like you, the person also started watching the game until the end of that quarter.

"Damn sorry Ash, I didn't see you, hi," Jordan said to the person who had sat next to you. "What are you doing here today?"

You turned to see this Ash person, not knowing that you were going to be completely dazzled by what your eyes were going to see. She was an Asian girl, with beautiful dark brown hair, pretty full cheeks and small bright eyes. You searched through your memories to see if you had seen her before, but it was unlikely that you had seen a girl that pretty and not remember her face. But she was really fucking adorable, wearing a blue jacket that looked like it was going to eat her up because of how petite she was.

"Hi Jordan," the girl replied, her lips slightly curved into a smile. "I was at the birthday party down there but well, I got overstimulated and my social battery got drained."

You didn't want to seem like a weirdo, so before she noticed, you looked away from her and acted nonchalant as you watched the commercials.

"Oh I can understand why," Jordan said, leaning his fists on the bar. "Those motherfuckers are loud as fuck. Same as always?"

"Nah, pour me something mild this time, I have to study tomorrow and I don't want a headache," Ash replied.

Jordan let out a laugh and stepped away from the bar.

"Him too," he pointed his index finger at you before turning his back to you. "And he's on his fourth beer."

You were flabbergasted. He definitely hadn't done that shit. You were forced to look at the girl and him with an embarrassed chuckle, shrugging.

“Oh, you’re a Harvard student too?” Ash asked, turning to look at you. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I am,” you nodded. “And I haven’t seen you either. What faculty are you in?"

"Data Science, and you?"

"Biomedicine," you replied.

"Cool!" She raised her eyebrows, and turned her body towards you to give you her full attention. "So how's that going?"

You sighed and took a sip of your beer, which was almost empty.

"I'm a new student," you set the glass down on the bar. "So I'll know after this semester."

"Oh, new student huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's been the hardest thing so far."

Jordan then came back to you and gave her a glass as well, from the color and bubbles you guessed it was vodka and lemon soda. You hoped it was more one thing than the other, because if not, there was absolutely nothing mild about that drink.

"Don't even remind me," you said with a sigh, as she drank from her glass. "It's been a shitty three months."

"Why?" she cocked her head. "I mean, I really don't mean to be nosy, but Harvard always does a good job of integrating new students with the others."

"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that people will like you," you then locked eyes with Jordan, who you motioned for another beer.

"But you don't seem like a bad guy, why wouldn't people like you?"

You shrugged, taking the freshly opened bottle of beer that Jordan had given you.

"I don't know, I think it's because I look at everyone like I want to kick their butts."

She giggled, and it was so adorable that you couldn't help but smile too.

"And you want to do that?" she asked.

"Sometimes," you brought the beer close to your mouth. "With some pampered jerks." You drank.

"Ah yeah, there are plenty of those here. I'm Ashley, by the way," she extended her hand towards you.

"I'm Mason," you accepted her hand and shook it with a small smile. "And you're one of the few people I've told my name to."

The last quarter of the game had already started, but it was impossible for you to pay attention to it, because you and Ashley were engaged in a conversation that flowed like the flow of a river downhill.

She told you interesting things about her life, like for example that she no longer lived on campus and had her own apartment not far from the bar. She also told you that she lived for a few years in South Korea with her mother, and that she had returned to the United States exclusively to study her degree. You didn't have too many things in common, contrary to what usually happens in romantic movies, but you could tell that chemistry arose between the two of you. She listened to you happily while you talked about your interests and hobbies, and you listened to her too. You laughed, and a lot, which seemed unreal to you since you had counted the times you had laughed with someone since you arrived at that place.

And damn, she was so, so pretty when she laughed that it made your inner self giggle and kick. Everything about her was adorable: her voice, the way she expressed herself, her smile, her hair, and even something as silly as the way she arched her eyebrows when you told her something slightly crazy.

Calling it love at first sight was downright stupid, because you were sure that to her you were just a friendly guy to have a nice chat with, but you were smitten. It was perhaps hasty to feel that way, but you couldn't just ignore that she, apart from being beautiful, was the first person your age that you had talked to for more than half an hour without feeling like you were bothering her.

And considering your situation, well, that was quite a lot.

"I swear to god!" you said, telling her about a time you had to chase your dog for almost two streets. "If it wasn't for..."

"Ashley?" a female voice said, coming from the stairs.

You and Ashley turned around. At the bottom of the stairs were two girls, both tipsy looking. One of them walked towards you.

"We thought you had gone home!" she said, standing next to you. "You coming? We're gonna continue the party at Riley's. place"

"Oh, sure," Ashley looked at you for a moment and then back at her. "Can you wait for me downstairs? I want to say goodbye to Mason."

"Who the fuck is Mason?"

You just held up your hand with an awkward smile.

"My pleasure," you said.

"Oh, my pleasure too," she nodded and then looked at Ashley. "Hurry up then, we're about to leave!"

"Yeah yeah go Vivian," Ashley dismissed her with a carefree wave of her hand.

Vivian turned around and walked with the other girl back down to the first floor. Ashley then looked at you.

"Sorry about that, I would have loved to hear more of that story," she said with a giggle.

"Don't worry," you shook your head and looked at your watch. "I'm actually running late too, I don't want to sleep that late."

"Oh, come on then?" she asked, standing up while pointing to the stairs. "We can give you a ride to campus if you want."

"Nah no need," you said with a chuckle. "I'll finish this beer and walk, but thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah yeah," you nodded. "Worse distances I've walked."

"Alright!" she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she took steps backwards. "It was nice meeting you, Mason, really."

"Same here. Will you be back here next weekend?"

"Mmm maybe, maybe not," she shrugged. "I don't know, it all depends on my schedule."

"I understand," you nodded. "Well, I'm here every Saturday after 6."

"Good to know," she nodded with a smile. "See you later!"

She turned to walk back down the stairs, but you couldn't just let her leave like that. Who knew when you'd see her again?

"Hey, Ashley!" you called out to her, and she stopped with one foot on the first step.

"Huh?"

"Uhm... I don't mean to be intrusive, but can I have your number?"

Ashley chuckled, and you thought you'd made a fool of yourself and she'd leave, but instead she walked back up and walked towards you.

"I don't give my number to just anyone," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "But we can follow each other on Instagram."

Well, a start was a start.

"Yeah I'm cool with that!"

Ashley showed you her Instagram, and you quickly went to yours to follow her. She then followed you back.

"There ya go!" she put her phone back away, and walked backwards towards the stairs. "Well, now I really have to go, my friends are going to kill me."

"Absolutely. Take care, okay?"

"You too!" Ashley said, then turned around and walked down the stairs.

"Uhm... I don't want to be intrusive, but can I have your number?" you heard Jordan scoff behind you, followed by a laugh. "Oh my god."

You sighed and turned back to the bar.

"Shut up bro," you said, and took a long drink of your beer.

After finishing that beer you finally asked for the bill and paid before leaving. The snowfall had gotten worse outside, so you spent the whole way back to campus with your head down and your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker, but most of all, thinking about her.

You couldn't help but feel like a complete idiot. She was a girl you had just met and she already had butterflies in your stomach. But how could she not? Every time you remembered her smiling it was like seeing a cute picture of Kirby, she even sounded like him when she laughed. She was unpleasantly cute.

When you got to your dorm the first thing you did was sit down and check her Instagram. She didn't have too many posts, but the few she had were 15 photos or more. Without realizing it, you spent about ten minutes absolutely mesmerized by her beauty, but because of that you missed a damn like on an old post that you quickly deleted.

You dropped the phone and brought your hands to your mouth, staring into absolute nothingness, thinking of the possible repercussions that would have, the worst being that you were going to look like a fucking stalker. God, you were a complete idiot.

You had no choice but to try to forget about it. Pretend it hadn't happened. Instead of thinking about it, you focused on attending to the needs of your stomach, which had been growling for a couple of hours, and after that, you took a shower and went straight to bed.

Despite being constantly aware of your surroundings, you didn't see Ashley during that entire exam week. It was kind of odd: your schedules would really have to be too different for you to never see her, even from a distance, and yet, at least once at some random hour you had to see her; Harvard wasn't that big.

She did upload the occasional story to her Instagram from time to time, many of them being things from her daily life and rather few of herself, whether in mirrors or selfies with her friends. There was one day when she even uploaded a story drinking a cocktail. Who knows where. Questionable, but certainly not your problem.

However, you didn't have time to be focused on what she did or didn't do. The week had been hard as hell, as had the exams you were prepared for but still felt like constantly walking a tightrope over an abyss. You were sure you had done well in each one, but there were several study sessions that had you with a severe headache that didn't go away until it was all over.

It was an exhausting week, and emotionally one to forget. But on Friday night something happened that you didn't expect, something that had you doing backflips and running up and down the walls of your bedroom. A like from Ashley on one of your old posts.

There were a couple of ways to interpret it. It could have just been a mistake, like yours had a few days ago. But that was ruled out when you realized that she hadn't unliked your post. The other way to interpret it was that she was making fun of you and wanted to let you know that she realized what you had done.

And of course, the last way to interpret it was that... Nah, that wasn't possible. Or was it? How the hell was the human version of Kirby going to be interested in you? That was impossible. You had only talked to her once, and you didn't remember being Prince Charming exactly. You had just been you, and that wasn't enough to make a girl like you after just an hour of conversation.

Or maybe it was? Thinking about it had you stressed out. You wanted to DM her, but doing so right now would make you look like a desperate weirdo. Maybe you lacked balls, but you wanted to do everything you could to not really scare this girl away, so you were going to take things slow and not make any risky moves.

Right now all you wanted was for Saturday to come. She had been clear with you, and you knew she could just not show up at the bar tomorrow. But you were still excited about the possibility that she would. You wished she would. And you had to think back to see if you had ever been this excited to see a girl in the past few years.

When the day came you went to the bar without any expectations in order not to be disappointed if something happened. When you got upstairs Jordan greeted you with his usual cheer, and you started your evening with the usual cold beer before the start of another Celtics game.

"Ayo bro what's wrong with you?" Jordan asked an hour later, frowning. "You're acting weird as fuck."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You've been looking back like you're going to shoot the fuck out of this bitch and moving your leg this whole time. Look, you're doing it right now!" he pointed down.

You looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, you were moving your leg without realizing it. You also noticed that every so often you looked over your shoulder.

"First of all, I'm not going to shoot anything," you said, forcing yourself to stop your leg. "And... fuck, it's because of her."

"Her?" he raised both eyebrows. "Her who?"

"Fuck you mean her who?" You frowned.

“Ohhh! Ash?” he said, and let out a giggle.

“Aha.”

Jordan laughed and handed a ready-made drink to one of the customers near you.

“Right right,” he nodded. “Can I have your number?” he mimicked you in a silly voice. “Look, talking about Helen of Troy.”

You were two milliseconds away from turning around like the girl from the Exorcist, but you had enough self-control to turn your head like a normal person.

Ashley had just walked up the stairs, and she looked just as pretty as the last time you saw her, with her hair down, a white college sweater, and a grey scarf that still had traces of snow on it.

And as soon as she saw you, her face lit up with a smile, causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

“Uhhh you got her in your pocket bro, look at that smile!” Jordan said from behind you, close to your ear so Ashley couldn't hear. "Aight so hear me out, I'll give you a hand, you'll see."

You frowned.

"Wait what?" You turned to look at him, but he had already played dumb and gone on to serve another customer.

Ashley came to your side at that moment, taking the free seat to your right, just like last time.

"Hi Mason! Hi Jordan!" she greeted you both, but focused her attention on you.

"Sup," you greeted back, turning to her. "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah well, I finished all my homework early and also studied enough to be free today."

"Oh really? Free to see someone, maybe?" you raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.

"Mmm, I don't know," she shrugged, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I was really in the mood for a drink on a Saturday."

You chuckled and nodded.

"Aight, you want a beer then? It's on me, and I insist."

"Yeah I'm cool with that!" she nodded.

"On my way!" Jordan said.

"Thanks bro," you said, then looked at Ashley. "So? How was torture week for you?"

The smile on Ashley's face faded, and her eyes wandered to an empty glass on the bar.

"I mean..." she cocked her head and made an awkward face. "Well, I think? I don't have too many hopes for myself, but I don't feel like I did a bad job either," she looked at you. "What about you?"

"Exhausting," you sighed. "But I feel like I'll pass everything with flying colors. Do you feel like you didn't study hard enough or what?"

"Something like that. Let's just say I got a little too confident."

Jordan came over with your beers and placed them in front of each of you. You both smiled at him in thanks.

"Why do I feel like that cocktail drinking story has something to do with it?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ashley was about to drink from her beer when she burst out laughing, having to set the glass down on the table so she wouldn't spill it. You looked at her with a smile, gobsmacked by her cuteness.

“Hey!” she snapped between laughs. “That was just an hour!”

“But it was enough to distract you,” you said before sipping on your beer.

“Nah, I’m good at dividing up my schedule.”

“6 hours of drinking and another two for studying?”

She laughed again, and this time she gave you a small, friendly punch on the shoulder.

“No, silly. You’re really into my stories huh?”

“I spend a lot of time on Instagram, so I end up checking them all the time and accidentally,” you shrugged.

“Accidentally, I see,” she nodded slowly. “Same as that like, right?”

Your hand froze around the glass of beer, where you looked with a smile of being on the ropes.

“Yup, same as that like,” you looked into her eyes. "And yours? Was that accidental too or what?"

She gently shook her head, holding your gaze.

"Nope, that was completely on purpose."

A smile escaped you. Things were flowing smooth as butter. It was up to you not to screw up.

"So you did come here today to see someone huh?"

"Maybe," she brought a hand to a lock of her hair to play with it. "And you seemed to be waiting for someone today."

"You," you said, not really thinking about it beforehand, just a shot in the air.

"Oh really?" she raised both eyebrows, now curling her lock of hair. "But you always come here, not this day at this time?"

"Yeah, but the difference is that now I've been waiting all week for Saturday to come."

Ashley giggled and looked away, now playing with her fingers in her lap.

"To see me?" she asked, and looked at you again.

"To see you," you nodded.

"What if I didn't come?"

"Eventually you would," you shrugged. "Pure statistics. But the odds increase if you wanted to see me too."

Ashley was quiet for a moment, just like you had been when she brought up the subject of you liking her post, a half smile on her face and her gaze on her glass. She then shrugged.

"You got me, I guess," she said.

"It wasn't that hard either. Hey, do you want to get something to eat?" you asked, changing the subject.

"Like what?" she said, and took a long drink of her beer.

"I don't know, they make some pretty tasty stuff downstairs. Maybe something sweet?"

"Mmm, nutella waffles?"

"Oh hell yeah, and they make some amazing cookie sandwiches too."

“That’s a yes then!”

“You wanna go sit over there?” you nodded behind her, towards one of the tables in the corner.

“Sure, let’s go,” Ashley replied with a smile as you both stood up from the bar.

As you passed, you glanced at Jordan, who was watching you with a mix of expectation and complicity. In response, he winked at you and discreetly dimmed the lights in the bar. The atmosphere changed instantly: the shadows lengthened, the warm lighting accentuated the textures of the brick walls and created an intimate space at the table you chose.

You owed that guy one.

The table in question was a cozy booth, with a brown leather corner sofa and high backs set against the brick wall. Ashley slid into the seat and sat right in the corner.

“I’ll go place the orders, wait here, will you?” you said, setting your glass of beer down next to hers.

Ashley just nodded with a cute smirk on her face, and then you hurried downstairs. You placed the order as quickly as you could, with a couple of milkshakes on top of the waffles and sandwiches, and then returned to her, sitting down to the side.

"I hope you like the lemon pie milkshakes, they're delicious," you said, arranging the plates and glasses on the table.

"I love lemon pie," she said, picking up one of the milkshakes to drink from the straw. "Did the stalking pay off or what?"

A laugh escaped you.

"Sweetheart, as much as I tried, I haven't been following you long enough to know that."

"Oh, you're calling me sweetheart now?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Uh... I'm sorry, does it bother you?"

Ashley then moved closer to you. It was really something very subtle, but you noticed it by the closeness of your thighs.

"It's cute, why would it bother me?" she said, holding your gaze.

You were closer than you'd ever been at that moment. It could happen, and you had a feeling she wanted it, but after looking at her lips a few times you decided not to push your luck too much.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Some people find it uncomfortable, and I wouldn't want to make you feel that way."

She stayed quiet as she looked at you. You frowned in confusion.

"What?" you said.

"You're really cute, Mason," Ashley replied, in a lower tone. "I don't know if anyone's ever told you that."

The way you folded yourself into seven separate pieces was a bit hard to hide, but you were sure it had to have shown on your cheeks as they felt warm from the blush.

“I-I… ah…” you felt like an idiot getting stuck on your own words; your brain had short-circuited for a few seconds. “No. At least not here.”

Ashley placed a hand on your thigh, near your knee. A statue could be more alive than you at that moment.

“That’s a shame, because you really are.”

You once again tried to say something, but only a silly stutter came out of your mouth that ended in silence. It was your chance.

“Shall we eat?” she said, before you could lunge in and kiss her. She didn’t notice your intentions, so she didn’t have to have done it on purpose. Still, it was pretty inopportune.

“Ah… yeah,” you nodded, turning back to the plates and milkshakes. "Sure, sure."

There was silence between you as you began to eat, but not an awkward silence, rather a peaceful one, which made it clear that both you and she were comfortable with each other. Only after a couple of minutes passed did you resume the conversation, which this time was oriented towards anecdotes and interesting facts about your lives. Needless to say, you felt like you could talk to her about anything and she would be just as happy to listen to you, as you would to her.

But you needed to kiss her. You really, really needed to.

"Gosh those waffles are really crazy stuff," Ashley said with the milkshake in her hand, once you had finished eating.

"What about the cookie sandwiches?" you asked with a smile.

"I wasn't that big of a fan, but they were good too," she shrugged.

You chuckled.

"Fair enough, we can't all have excellent tastes."

Ashley laughed and nudged you slightly. You stared at her. Noticing this, she tilted her head and frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"You're so fucking cute, Ashley," you said, admiring every detail of her pretty face, dimly illuminated by the warm light of the bar's spherical lamps. "You really are."

That took her by surprise. She blinked several times, visibly stunned by such a sudden statement, but as she processed the information, her lips curved into a small smirk.

"You think so?" she asked in a low tone, and brought her hand back to your thigh, now closer to your crotch, awakening in you thoughts that were no longer so innocent.

"Yeah, I think so," you said, and put your right arm in front of her abdomen to grab her waist. You couldn't tell from the baggy clothes the weather forced you two to wear, but she had a small waist and a tummy that you found extremely sexy.

"So what are you waiting for?" She squeezed your thigh with her fingers.

"Waiting for what?" You pressed her closer, your faces now inches apart.

Ashley leaned in close to your ear.

"To take me downstairs to the bathroom and fuck me," she whispered, and pulled back to look you in the eyes again. "And kiss me, of course."

W-h-a-t?

You blinked a few times, confused by what you had just heard. Was she the same Ashley? Had you gotten distracted and she had switched with her evil twin? It wasn't like it bothered you, but it was such a drastic change that it seemed unreal.

"Wow," you said with a chuckle, and brought the hand on her waist up to her thigh to brush the side of your finger against her crotch. "In that order?"

Ashley moved her hand up and placed it on your bulge to give it a single, firm squeeze.

"As you prefer," she said, biting her lip as she looked down at yours.

And then you kissed her.

From the beginning, it was difficult for you to control yourself from making a scene in front of everyone's eyes, because her lips had a delicious pineapple flavor that drove you crazy and made you want to devour her like a maniac. For the moment, you had to settle for that slow, discreet kiss, like the one any couple shared at a bar.

Ashley was forced to remove her hand from your bulge, and you were forced to remove yours from near her crotch. Instead she left her hands still in her own lap and you just continued to squeeze her thigh with your hand. As the seconds passed your breathing became heavier, and by the way she shifted in her seat you knew that it was enough of kissing and it was time to move on to the fun part.

"To the bathroom downstairs then?" you asked against her lips.

"The one on the basement floor," she clarified. "There won't be anyone down there at this hour."

"Do you scream a lot or what?" you teased.

"Take me there and find out."

You smiled and took her hand before standing up. You both walked out of the stall and straight to the first floor, where Ashley stepped away from you.

"Let me go first," she said, steps away from the exit. "I wouldn't want us to be so brazen either."

"Aight go," you nodded.

Ashley walked out of the bar and headed down to the basement. You waited for about five minutes before heading in that same direction, leaving the bar to go left and down the stairs that led to the basement. Just like Ashley said, there were like four people down there counting the bartender, so it wouldn't be a problem.

Absolutely no one paid you any attention as you walked through the room. Good for you, because you were able to enter the ladies' room without any opposition. Inside it wasn't hard for you to guess where Ashley was: she was in the back stall, with her hand sticking out of the half-open door.

Rushing in there you found her waiting patiently for you, leaning against the wall with her other hand behind her back.

"You're late," Ashley joked with a mischievous smirk as you locked the bathroom door.

"I'll go if you want," you pointed with your thumb.

"Nuh-uh, come here," she said, and grabbed your face with both hands before crashing her lips against yours.

With no potential stares now, you two were free to let loose, your tongues now entering the equation just seconds into the kiss, which was becoming more and more wild and sloppy. Ashley lowered one hand to the side of your neck, and brought the other to your cock to squeeze and massage it over your pants. You, for your part, were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks as you lowered your hands and squeezed them. She let out a small moan against your lips, and brought her other hand down to unbutton your pants, unzipping them, and reaching into your boxers to cup your cock with her delicate fingers and slowly stroke it.

"You must be freezing from the weather," she murmured after moving a few inches away from your lips. "Maybe I can give you some warmth."

With that Ashley dropped to her knees in front of you and pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles. With your cock released in front of her face, she placed wet kisses on the underside, moved down to your balls to lick them, and then back to your tip to catch it between her lips and suck on it.

"Fuck Ashley..." you gasped, bringing a hand to her silky brown hair to push it out of her face.

She gave your tip a couple of sucks and pulled you out to slowly jerk you off.

"Still cold?" Ashley asked. "Don't worry, I got you."

With that she placed her hands on your thighs and opened her mouth to take your cock inside her. Now her lips went further, slowly going millimeters past the middle of your shaft to come back up and start sucking you off. She made eye contact with you, which made your cheeks feel hot since until a few hours ago you only saw her as a giggly adorable princess, and now that cute princess was giving you a sloppy, sensual blowjob.

"Fuck that's perfect Ash," you moaned, watching as she pumped her head at a steady pace, slurping up the saliva she left behind and also using her tongue to lick the underside of your shaft.

"Warm enough?" Ashley asked after pulling you out, now kissing the sides of your cock while rubbing her fingers along the first few inches of it. "I still have a little magic trick."

She put her hands on your thighs and took your cock back into her mouth. This time, after a few sucks halfway down your shaft, her mouth went further and further until it reached your base, where her nose rested for a few long, fascinating seconds as your tip brushed the walls of her throat.

And yes, it was fucking warm. Overwhelmingly so, you dare say.

“Shit…” you moaned, letting your head fall back and bringing your hand to the back of Ashley’s neck.

A couple seconds later she released your cock with a couple of coughs and heavy gasps, and continued to jerk you off while wiping her spit-stained chin.

“Better?” she asked.

“Ashley… what the fuck was that,” you managed to say, now looking into her eyes. “The last thing I would think when I saw your face is that you give amazing blowjobs.”

“And I have a pretty tight pussy too, just so you know.”

You were officially going crazy.

“May I taste it?” you asked.

Ashley smiled and stood up, turned around and bent over with her hands braced against the wall of the stall. She then looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your cock rubbing against her ass. You immediately got on your knees behind her, grabbed the hem of her sweatpants and pulled them down.

“Oh fuck,” was the only thing you could think to say. Her ass was a complete beauty: it was small, but the shape of her buttocks and how soft her skin looked made it look like a whole snack.

“You like it?” she asked, slowly swinging it from side to side.

"I have a way to answer that," you said, and placed both hands on either side of her hip before you began kissing every spot on her pretty ass, not stopping until both pale cheeks were covered in your saliva and your teeth marked on the fleshiest areas.

With your entrance already covered you wanted to move on to the main course as quickly as possible, so you grabbed her light blue panties—already with a wet spot in the middle—and pulled them down to her ankles along with her sweatpants, rolled around her feet. Her pussy was as pretty as her face, shaved, smooth, pink and shiny from how wet it was. You plunged your mouth in there without a second's thought.

"Mmmgh," Ashley moaned, pushing her hips back to bury your face between her ass cheeks, which you parted so you could easily taste her delicious, silky folds with your tongue.

The bathroom stall was soon filled with cute, low moans. You ate her pussy slowly at first, not wanting to look like a desperate fucking lunatic. But it was clear that wasn't going to last too long, not when her wet flesh was this delicious and her hips moved in such an adorable way as the pleasure built in her.

"Oh fuck I knew you'd be good with that fucking tongue," she gasped, her legs suffering from spontaneous tremors.

"You do?" you asked with an incredulous giggle, and squeezed her ass cheeks. "Apparently I was the only one with innocent intentions then."

"Don't get me wrong, me too," she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her lip. "But I also wanted you to eat my pussy really bad."

"Slutty behavior if you ask me," you said, and sank your mouth back into her pussy before she could protest.

Ashley moaned louder and pushed her hips back. Hard, to smother you with her ass. You contently let her do it at this point, more focused on licking between her folds and giving you a treat than your own breathing. This paid off a few seconds later, when the muscles in her thighs contracted and she burst into moans, grinding her ass into your face.

“Oh fuck!” she squealed under her breath, holding back from screaming louder. “Hurry up and fuck me for god’s sake!”

You stood up and bent over your pants bunched around your ankles to pull your wallet out of your pocket. Only to realize what a fucking problem there was: you hadn’t brought a fucking condom.

Were you fucking stupid or what?

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, eyeing the wallet.

Ashley turned to look at you with a scowl.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t bring… well, you know.”

“A condom?” She raised an eyebrow. "Mason fuck the fucking condom fuck me already!"

Well, if things were that way you weren't going to refuse; you were too horny to think of the most responsible decision at the moment.

"Yeah you're damn right."

You dropped your wallet to the floor and focused entirely on her. Your left hand went to her waist, and with your right you grabbed your cock to bring it between her ass cheeks and rubbed the tip between her folds just a couple of times before pressing forward. You and Ashley moaned as you took the first few inches inside her.

"Oh fuck slow slow slow," she said, and you slowly took every inch of your cock inside her. "Oh yes that feels so fucking good!"

"You weren't lying about having a tight pussy, fuck," you panted already balls deep inside her, her pussy walls squeezing your cock.

"You like it huh?" she asked, looking into your eyes. "Then you better fuck it properly."

"Bet," you said, and began to rock your hips back and forth, patiently increasing the pace so as not to hurt her. Before long the thrusts became consistent, your cock going completely in and out of that smothering pussy and your smacks against her ass reverberating through the empty bathroom.

Ashley bent lower on her back, leaning with her forearms against the wall of the stall as you fucked her faster, clinging to her small waist and making her buttocks jiggle. The bubble of pleasure you were both locked in made you quickly forget you were in a public place, so it got to a point where you were making a downright shameless fuss.

Until you heard voices approaching.

Ashley's eyes widened and she looked at you. You stopped, and your first instinct was to push her away from the wall, wrap an arm around her body and sit on the closed toilet lid (which thankfully didn't break). She was smart enough to understand what you wanted to do, so she grabbed her sweatpants and panties, pulled them off her ankles and pulled her feet up onto your knees at the exact moment two girls walked in talking.

"Yeah I don't know why he acts like that," one of the girls said, and you heard a sink turn on. "But then her fucking bitch of a best friend comes and says I'm the toxic one!"

You covered Ashley's mouth, and with her hands resting on each wall of the stall, she slowly went up and down on your cock, while you, with your free hand, rubbed her clit at the same discreet rhythm.

"Bitch cut it with that son of a bitch already!" said the other. "You've put up with too much shit from him lately."

"Fuck, should I?"

"Fuck you mean should I?! He spent a night with that hoe!"

If you didn't have Ashley moving up and down on your cock in that delicious way you would have laughed. But you did have to reinforce your fingers in her mouth, because she let out a moan that was luckily drowned out by the sound of the sink running.

"But he has a big dick!" The girl protested.

The other girl growled in frustration, and this time you did manage to let out a smile that almost turned into a chuckle.

"I can't stand you bitch, I swear to god."

The faucet turned off, and now you and Ashley were helpless if they stayed any longer and paid attention to where you were.

"I still want him to break up with me, not me him. I don't want any trouble with that damn bitch," the other girl said, and now her voice was fortunately heard further away.

"Are you chickening out or what?" the other girl replied, already out of the bathroom.

The conversation was no longer understandable to you, indicating that they finally left the bathroom. You took your hand off Ashley's mouth, and she was free to let out a relieved sigh followed by a moan.

"Fucking annoying bitches," she hissed, then slid her feet off your knees to replace them with her hands and bounced on your cock harder. "God that cock feels so good I wanna cry."

You brought your hands to her waist and reveled in the sight of your cock fully entering and exiting her pretty little body. Ashley bounced hard and fast, filling the bathroom with clapping sounds and inconspicuous moans. Her ass cheeks looked so pretty doing it that you couldn't help but squeeze both together and leave a spank on one, and she responded with a cute squeal.

"Turn around, I wanna kiss you," you panted with your hand on her lower back.

Ashley complied, and immediately rose off your cock to turn around and straddle you, her legs hanging over the sides of the toilet. You wrapped an arm around her waist, crashed your lips against hers and made her impale herself on your cock again.

With a moan against your lips she began to move on your cock as fast as she could, because the position wasn't exactly the most comfortable for her. For you, however, it was more attainable since you could simply plant your feet firmly on the floor and fuck her up and down. Ashley, relieved by this, wrapped her arms around your head and held onto your hair as you fucked her.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum so hard," she gasped into the kiss. "Fuck keep going!"

You brought your hands up to her ass to squeeze and grope it again before cranking up the engine. Ashley let her head fall back and held onto your neck with both hands, quickly being dragged into an orgasm that had her writhing and grinding her hips on top of you.

As she was riding out her climax you took the moment to kiss her pretty pale neck and under her chin, arms wrapped around her petite, quivering body to keep it pressed to yours at all times. Then, when you felt like you could continue, you used the strength in your legs to stand up with her carried. Ashley had a little scare, but still managed to hold on with her legs to your torso until you pressed her against the left wall of the stall, spread her legs wide, and with your hands behind her knees continued to hammer her pussy.

"You know I'd love to?" you asked, peppering the side of her neck with kisses.

"W-what?" she managed to reply despite her ragged breathing.

"Seeing your pretty princess face painted white," you said, and moved up to her jawline.

"Let me finish you off then, handsome," she panted with her hands on your back. "I could use a hot load for my skin."

You immediately pulled out of her pussy, lowered her, and she got on her knees in front of you, her head resting against the wall behind her. She caught your tip with her lips, sucked on it, and gripped her fingers to your shaft to stroke it at full speed. The eye contact was more intense than you expected, as Ashley's eyes went from being two pretty, shiny orbs to the eyes of a feline predator eager for its prey. If that wasn't enough, the girl was naughty enough to also grab your balls and give them such a good massage that you exploded without even warning.

Feeling a drop of your load inside her mouth, Ashley quickly pulled you out of it to masturbate you fiercely and receive every jet of cum on her pretty face. Every corner was covered in thick white liquid, in a perfect work of art that was deeply contrasted by the place you were in.

She moved her wrist slower as you stopped shooting jets, and finally took you back into her mouth to suck and clean every possible inch of your shaft.

"Fuck... so beautiful," you managed to say between gasps, admiring her face covered in cum all over.

"And if you behave from now on you can have this as many times as you want, baby," she said, and blew you a little kiss. "Pass me some toilet paper please."

You did so, and first helped her stand up before helping her wipe her face. Then you got dressed, and spent at least another five minutes just making out. It was she who pulled away from you with a small smile on her face.

"Do you want to spend the night with me?" she asked.

"Yes!" you replied embarrassingly quickly and nodded. "I'd love to."

Ashley giggled and opened the stall door.

"I'll go first, but first, your phone," she held out her hand.

"Huh, for what?"

"Just give it to me."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and handed it to her already unlocked. She then typed for less than a minute and handed it back to you.

"Here, you earned it," she told you, winked at you and walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.

You looked down, and what you saw was her contact with her damn number.

━•✦•━•✦•━━•✦•━•✦•━

Spren Notes: Consider this just a starter to welcome the best time of the year, hehehe. Btw, with Gowon there are already 2 of the 12 LOONA girls. Hope to be able to write all of them sooner or later. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

#gowon smut #loossemble smut #loona smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #male reader smut #x male reader insert #smut

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chimivx · 1 day ago

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“…i want you, bless my soul…”

Four months.

You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.

Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.

What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-

He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.

After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.

Did he own any clothes that fit?

It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.

Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.

It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.

Damn.

Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.

He noticed.

He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.

Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.

It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.

By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.

You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.

Nose in phone, nose in phone.

It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-

“Did you do the homework?”

Great.

You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.

“I, uh, yeah, I did.”

If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”

Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.

Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.

He asked you a question.

He talked to you.

Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?

No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.

The girlfriend that he-

“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?

Oh god.

What if he knows?

You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.

Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.

Oh, he definitely knew.

And so it began.

For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.

He was funny.

Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.

He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.

Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.

But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.

Month four.

Four months was all it took, and he was yours.

Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.

By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.

“I knew.”

#kim mingyu #seventeen #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #college!seventeen #seventeen x y/n #college mingyu #campus crush #tswift song challengeee #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #a lil somethin to fuel the juices

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caffeinatedvigilantewriter · 14 hours ago

Text

So Danny is older, and lives in Gotham as a mechanic (he could be a We mechanic, a JLA mechanic, whatever) and eventually, he starts dating Bruce Wayne.

Now, Danny knows the Wayne at the bats, it’s kinda hard to hide your vigilantism from a former vigilante. But Danny doesn’t mention it, he knows the dangerous of telling your loved ones.

Jazz is alive and a therapist is Coast City (Jazz x Hal? Could that work? Idk too much about the green lanterns). Dan is undercover to investigate pools of corrupted ectoplasm that’s guarded by an assassin cult, and Dani is still traveling the world, not for pleasure, but for the Realms.

Dani doesn’t age. It’s a side effect of being a clone. She destabilized one to many times and now her ghost half won’t let her age so she won’t die.

Dani can’t exactly settle down in a city likes the others. She looks 12. And while her siblings would take care of her in a heartbeat, she needs to fill her obsession of history and adventure.

So, she starts hunting for old artifacts, especially the magic ones. It’s a great way to learn about history and get a sense of adventure.

She’s been doing this for a couple years, building a name for herself and she gotten very good. (Keep in mind she only looks 12, but she’s actually like 33 mentally and intellectually)

Eventually, she crosses paths with a bat while searching for an artifact. (Even better if its Duke. We need more Duke. Probably won’t work with Cass, we’ll use Duke for the prompt, but can be switched out)

Obviously, Duke is kinda confused as to why a 12 yo is going after a dangerous magic artifact in the middle of but-fuck nowhere and offers to take her to Gotham and drops her off there after taking the artifact.

Dani knows better, she was going to refuse, but the realized she could take this as a free ride. So she agrees.

The reach Githam and go their separate ways, and Dike goes joke immediately, didn’t even take the time to tell anyone about the girl. but when Duke is at home hanging with their civilian stepdad, Danny gets a call and says he’s inviting his younger sister over

Bruce: Jazz? Jazz is older that you

Danny: nope! I have another sister!

Everyone: ???

Bruce: how comes we never meet her?

Danny: you have! She was at the wedding! But you’ll see her again don’t worry! She doesn’t visit often so I’m excited!

They arrives, the bat opens the door and Dani walks in.

Danny: Dani!!

Dani: Danny!!

So people are confused, Duke is like omg my aunt is an artifact hunter?? while everyone else is like omg my aunt is younger than me??

Eventually, Danny opens her backpack and goes:

Dani: so I was in *insert random place in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere* and found this! *pulls out artifact* I thought you would like so I brought it for you!

Danny: aww, thanks Dani, you shouldn’t have

Duke, who put that artifact in the cave for study: 👁️👄👁️

And Dani gives them a wink.

Duke isn’t going to take that lying down and attempts to find out Dani’s secrets while shes thwarting him at every turn.

Dani stays at the manor for a while, but nobody believe Duke when he tries warning them of Dani, because Duke didn’t tell anyone about the artifact

Things become even more alarming when Danny also start thwarting him, despite not know the family secret. (Danny thinks that Duke is onto the family secret.)

Cue crack, angst, fluff, whatever your heart desires.

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helplessautomaton · 1 day ago

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WC 876

addon to the last post abt yandere daisuke,, sorry gang i lowkey forgor. also, i dont think i can keep using ingame screenshots for the header so i might ditch that because i don't want to use outside sources. tbf i could just draw my own for that- anyways!

i straight up forgot about the please aspect and did not take advantage of that! mightve gotten cared away, apologies hehe, also this is my last post for today, sorry

its gonna start off slow with daisuke, he just wants praise from the people around him who know better! he just wants to know hes doing a good job so please tell him he is. as his obsession starts to grow hes unaware of his expression with his eyes. staring at you, expecting— wanting praise, just to give him that extra boost. as time progresses along with his attachment towards you, no matter what part you have in the crew, he tries to help you. his cheery smile making it hard to resist and say no. gently grabbing your hands while you two take a break, blabbering on about he managed to do and going off topic about whatever. all this while he has a golden smile directed at you, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners to match.

when you hang around swansea and daisuke, you semi-jokingly praise him to give him more of a boost. its sends him over the moon to know hes doing right by you! swansea makes little teasing comments when daisuke is out of ear. as he starts to get more conscious of his obsession with you, he acts on it more knowingly. trying to push the buttons he know works even when its starting wear off and you hesitantly go along with it.

he wants to share his happiness you give to him, he wants to see you happy. at this point you are his world and hes not willing to give that up to anyone. even if it makes him a little uncharacteristicly harsh to the other crew members. he doesnt risk what he doesnt have to, even if curly or anya warm up to you the same way he originally started out. thats not to say it tugs at daisuke and makes him annoyed, he knows its not irrational but for jimmy he is justified if he dares to try anything. i feel like he would over look or straight up not notice if swansea treat you very slightly better because lets be honest, hes probably getting that same deal as well. theres so much daisuke wants to do but due to the environment he cant, but him stealing a packet or two of sugar just for you can make up for it.

really at this point, daisuke is at your beck n call whether you want it or not, hes so attached he refuses to let go. hes still his usual self when hes only with you, optimistic and bright eyed. even if swansea is hitting him in the back of the head to make him focus. but during this point everyone is starting to notice daisuke's behavior and the frustration sets in. even if curly tries to redirect him back to speed, daisuke needs you. attempting to praise him just to get him to do his job wont exactly work if you have to speed off to your intended chores. jimmy's comments start to become more sharp as he glares at the both of you while all you can do is look away, really just not wanting this either.

after the crash, he uses his tears to just get something, mostly he wants reassurance to refresh his optimism. especially when he gets drunk on the mouthwash, he cant help it, hes still doing a good job despite it all, right? he tries his best to keep you content in anyway shape or form, even if it means hiding you away from everyone for a little while. afterall, what can he do anymore. so please, just let him make you smile for sometime before the situation breaks back through to reality.

"daisuke can you please keep on? youre doing a wonderful job we can go on a break soon." you try to charm your way through, swansea was getting more snappy at the both of you. daisuke's let his smile takeover, his eyes crinkling, nodding he continues under whatever swansea needs him to do. the tension in the room was clear, your jaw was tensed up, this had been the 6th day you had to do this. you worked beside anya not swansea, yet daisuke needed you or else youd be hearing complaints from 4 people of the crew out of 5. you werent even paying attention to the way either swansea or daisuke worked on whatever they were working on, yet daisuke called out to you. "alright i think we got it all done for now, swansea said im good to get on break now."

you sighed slightly and let daisuke lead the way, joking and telling you whatever crossed his mind. "i was doing a good job right?" his quiet voice snapped you back to where you were at, stopping just in time so you didnt accidentally knock over daisuke. "uhh,, yeah, it did look like you were, um, working hard! just keep doing what swansea wants you to do."

daisuke looks over to you, watching you carefully with his eyes before he breaks out into a usual smile and carries on with going into the lounge.

#mouthwashing x reader #yandere mouthwashing #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #yandere daisuke #yandere #daisuke x reader

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cheshiresense · 22 hours ago

Note

I’m loving all the parts of your Ichigo & Starrk time travel AU! This is a bit random and would take place some time down the road but I had a thought that Starrk probably still has the scars from when Shunsui almost killed him rigjt? So I was wondering if some combination of TBTP!Shunsui recognizing the kind of blades that would’ve left those scars (his zanpakutou is pretty unique after all) and maybe Katen Kyokotsu sensing her own “mark” on Starrk would result in Shunsui guessing a few things if he sees those scars. Or maybe it’s at a point in the timeline where Starrk and Ichigo have already revealed the time travel thing to a few people but not many details and Shunsui ends up putting more pieces together on his own.

Ooh yesss I do love a good scar reveal. For a scene like this, I'd prob go with the second scenario. I imagine Starrk's a pretty private person and also not one to be stripping down in front of just anyone lmao so there has to be a good enough reason. (I actually have a different ready-made one that would fit a time travel reveal scene that I've already hinted at previously but I think I'll write that another time, so we're going to use this one instead.)

This would take place maybe a year or two down the road, and because Shinigami elites are generally not idiots (most of the time), especially the ones Starrk and Ichigo have grown close to, I imagine Shunsui, Ukitake, Shinji, and Kaien (and prob Lisa) have pooled their observations and guessed that Starrk and Ichigo are from the future and have Experienced Some Shit, possibly under Aizen, possibly under some other major big bad that was bad enough to necessitate time travel. And time travel's hardly something just anybody can throw around so most likely there's some divine intervention involved. And once they've come to these conclusions, they decide enough is enough, leaving the fate of Soul Society and possibly the universe on two people who look like they're running themselves ragged trying to save them all is ridiculous. If nothing else, they're friends and family, and it's not right to just leave that burden to them.

I'm also going to throw Kisuke into this group because 1) Kisuke's observant as fuck and Ichigo's actually really bad at staying away from this one mad scientist who created him and weaponized him and pointed him at the enemy but also followed right after him because to Kisuke, Ichigo is everything from moral compass to magnum opus to greatest sin to the person he owes everything to, and he'd more or less handed over his entire soul into Ichigo's possession very early on. So even a hundred years in the past was never going to prevent Kisuke from gravitating to Ichigo who doesn't flinch from him or his reputation and looks at him like he's more than just a Rukon street rat turned assassin turned Shinigami in a captain trenchcoat who has no idea how to be a captain on a good day. (And everybody knows that once Ichigo is attached to you, it's all over, you're never going to be rid of him again, and more than anything, Kisuke has always just wanted someone to want him to stay.)

And 2), there's no better place for secret meetings than the Study Chamber under the Soukyoku Hill, Aizen doesn't know about it, and the Quincy might but with the place buried under enough seals to avoid all detection and probably withstand a siege, even they can't get in to spy. I want to say Kisuke and Yoruichi are a package deal so she should be around, but I also headcanon that they sort of drifted apart for a while after Yoruichi forced Kisuke out of the Second and onto the captaincy doorstep (which made the fact that she threw her whole life and career away when Kisuke was accused of treason that much more meaningful tbh). So for now she's not around, but she does still hang out with Kuukaku, and while it is very helpful that all these people are regular guests at the Shiba compound so nobody is going to get suspicious if this particular group is absent together from time to time because people would just assume they're holed up at the Shibas' for another party or something, Yoruichi is going to notice sooner or later that they're very much not at the compound when they're missing, so she goes looking for whatever fuckery Kisuke has gotten up to this time, and that'll be her way into this time travel adventure, so to speak.

But all of this is actually just to say, healing hot springs for the win, you gotta be naked in a Japanese onsen lmao and guess who's about to have a midnight rendezvous 😉 let's all thank Urahara Kisuke for reinventing such a convenient trope.

-0-

It's nearing two in the morning, and after the staggering revelations earlier, everyone is asleep.

It wasn't as if they hadn't already expected the time travel, but to have it confirmed, and to know now that the reason for it had been the near-total annihilation of all three realms at the hands of a race nursing a thousand-year-old grudge, one thought to be largely extinct but has actually been hiding in their walls - almost literally - and biding their time until their king's awakening--well, let's just say Shunsui isn't going to be able to walk down a street without wondering how many hidden eyes are watching him from the shadows until the Wandenreich has at least been dug out of the woodwork for all to see.

(It's also perhaps a little more… off-putting for him than the others, though perhaps that's his pride speaking. Shadows are supposed to be his domain, and yet he's never sensed anything amiss in all the long years he's lived in the Seireitei.)

There had at least not been too much of a fuss about bringing them into the loop. Shunsui had admittedly thought they would have to at least argue back and forth about it a few more times, if only because no matter how much Ichigo likes to deny it, the family resemblance is uncanny, whether in appearance or personality, and a Shiba is nothing if not stubborn once they've set their mind on something. Ichigo is exactly the type to refuse outside aid in the name of better protecting the people he cares about, has yet to understand that ignorance does not always mean safe, or outgrow that inexplicably instinctual mindset of his where he seems to believe that he must take on all burdens by himself instead of allowing others to help shoulder those burdens with him.

But then they'd confronted the boy, and while Ichigo had scowled up a storm and tried to bluster his way out of it at first - kid really is a terrible liar - he'd also capitulated far sooner than any of them had expected. In the end, he'd crossed his arms and scowled some more before deciding with the finality of someone who wouldn't budge any further, "Fine, but we wait for Starrk-san."

He'd smirked at them then, still displeased considering the topic of conversation, but vaguely triumphant nonetheless as he'd eyed Urahara and Hirako and Kaien in particular. "It's why you cornered me when you know Starrk-san's out on a mission and isn't due back 'til late, right? Cuz you think you might be able to wear me down by nagging me to death, or worse comes to worst, you can figure it out by watching my reactions. But you won't get anything out of Starrk-san if he doesn't want to say, and he's hard to read even when he's actively emoting."

He'd snorted then, mockery softened by a reluctant sort of mirth. "Joke's on you, he's the reasonable one."

Which, to be fair, had been Shunsui's opinion. Starrk really is frustratingly, delightfully difficult to read, and this is coming from Shunsui, who's always found most people easy enough to figure out at a glance. Case in point, most of the things they'd pieced together for themselves had been clues Ichigo had inadvertently given away, not Starrk. And even then, if Starrk doesn't want them to know, no matter how many well-reasoned conjectures they lay at his feet, he probably wouldn't say a word.

But by that same token, it must mean that the hints he'd started dropping over the past few months could only be his way of encouraging them to ask without directly giving the game away, without giving them any hard evidence or firsthand testimony that would condemn himself or Ichigo, just in case the people they've chosen to trust fail their expectations and choose to hand them over to the government instead of trusting them in return.

To Shunsui, that had basically been an open invitation to sit down for a chat, and Ukitake had agreed with him, but they'd been outvoted - sometimes, he thinks with some amusement that the younger members of their little group don't seem to have eyes for anyone except Ichigo - so he'd let it go since he'd thought there wouldn't be any major issues with trying it this way first either. After all, he doubts Starrk would've shown his hand without Ichigo's agreement. It's just that they'd probably have to jump through a few more hoops if they went to Ichigo, what with the kid's knee-jerk reflex for keeping them at a distance no matter the cost to himself. And he'd been correct, more or less. It's just that they'd had fewer hoops to jump through than Shunsui had anticipated, but he's hardly about to complain.

"My plan was to force Aizen to out himself somehow and then take him down in front of everyone," Ichigo had continued, oblivious to the dawning look of horror on his cousin's face at the sheer lack of regard Ichigo clearly had for his own wellbeing, or possibly for the excessive margin of error implied in every sentence. "And then, you know, hopefully do the same for the Quincy, although I guess they'd be harder to draw out, so maybe we would've had to go to them? But anyway, Starrk-san's the one who's been saying practically from the beginning that we need more people."

He'd made a face then, reminiscent of children everywhere who'd been lectured by a parent for doing something potentially reckless and stupid, but there'd been a grumpy sort of acceptance there too that had lent maturity to his features.

"'Wars can't be won alone,'" Ichigo had audibly quoted with a rueful sort of twist to his mouth, as much to himself as to them. "'And this is their home. If they want to fight for it, let them fight. They're strong enough to make a difference. Besides, there's nothing worse than only being able to stand by helplessly while something you love disappears in front of you.'" He'd huffed and scrubbed a hand over his face, and then he'd just looked tired. "Well, he's not wrong."

He'd looked at them all again, gaze firm. "So if you really wanna do this, fine, but we wait for Starrk-san."

They'd waited. It wasn't as if anyone had actually wanted to exclude the man anyway, couldn't even if they did since he and Ichigo were clearly a package deal. And Shunsui's of the opinion that anybody who can consistently convince Ichigo to stop and look around and realize he isn't as alone as he often seems to believe is someone Shunsui definitely wants onside.

Ichigo had told them that Starrk had been expecting a confrontation sooner or later, and there were only so many places for it to happen if they didn't want anyone else finding out, so if Starrk got back and found their shared apartment empty, he would know to check here.

Sure enough, an hour after, a reiatsu signature - usually so carefully tucked away but one that Shunsui had pressed into his own memory from the very first time he'd had the chance to really feel it - had flared politely right outside the door before wisping away to nothing again, and a moment after Urahara had flashed away to let him in, Starrk had ghosted in, still in his Shihakushou with the wooden case containing his Zanpakutou slung over one shoulder and an exhausted air about him, but the silver-blue gaze he'd swept over them had momentarily felt like the fangs of a beast locked around their throats.

He'd looked to Ichigo, who'd grimaced but nodded, some wordless conversation passing between them, and only then had all those predatory edges been folded away again, leaving only the quiet unassuming man people still barely looked twice at despite the fact that he'd graduated with honours just as impressive as Ichigo's had been, and had even been promoted to lieutenant on Unohana's personal recommendation straight out of the Academy. But most Shinigami saw Fourth Division and looked no further, blind to the power concealed behind Starrk's reserved apathy.

(In contrast, restlessness had stirred beneath Shunsui's skin at the sight. He'd wanted to feel that reiatsu again, to taste the corrosive bite of it against the endless abyss of his own, to revel in the reminder that neither of them could overwhelm the other. He'd wanted to see more of the wolf lurking behind Starrk's eyes too, wanted this man to know he had no need to hide any part of it, not from Shunsui, not when he had the same kind of monster residing in his own soul. But that was all still too much, too soon, and so he'd locked it all behind his teeth once more, waiting for the day he wouldn't have to anymore.)

Starrk had sighed and run a gloved hand over his mouth before wandering over to join them. "Alright, let's talk. What do you want to know?"

That had been five hours ago. The conversation had lasted until midnight before they'd all decided to retire for the night and continue in the morning.

(Ichigo had looked positively agonized at the prospect. Starrk hadn't looked much of anything, mainly because he'd been half-asleep - or doing an excellent job at pretending to be - for a good hour and a half by that point.)

They'd opted to stay in the Study Chamber. Urahara had had more than enough futons to go around, thick enough that they wouldn't feel the ground underneath, and there were bathroom facilities and even a kitchenette included in a sectioned off corner. He and Yoruichi had certainly outdone themselves.

Urahara in particular. He'd invited them to use his hot spring too if they wished - a derivative of Kirinji Tenjirou's very own hot springs, less effective and fast-acting than the originals, only able to speed up recovery, but also far less dangerous - perfect for soaking in after a tough spar or a hard day or anything that results in moderately serious injuries. A veritable work of art.

Still, Shunsui had been more preoccupied with the way Starrk's eyes had lingered on the hot spring even as they'd all headed off to eat something and wash up before going to bed. In that split-second moment, the normally inscrutable man had looked adorably like a cat with a patch of sunlight. It shouldn't have been so attractive, but Shunsui had found himself unspeakably charmed all the same.

Ten minutes after everyone else's reiryoku had levelled out with deep slumber, and Shunsui had likewise tamped down on his own and smoothed it out to mimic sleep, he'd heard the faint rustle of Starrk's futon being pulled back, and then the whisper of footsteps padding their way towards the hot spring.

A better man than Shunsui would probably not have followed. But if that had ever been an option, he'd thrown it out the window from the first time he'd almost drowned in the shattered devastation of Starrk's soul and still decided to go after him.

He'd known since they'd met that there was some kind of connection between himself and Starrk.

He'd known for nearly as long that something about himself made Starrk uncomfortable, at best, and hurt him on a soul-deep level at worst.

He'd known with every interaction they'd had after that - every moment Shunsui could spare to track him down without making it seem too obvious that he was doing it on purpose - that Starrk wanted him to stay away just as much as he wanted him to stay, and Shunsui had taken shameless advantage because he himself had also been unable to do anything less, because he'd looked at this man and the desolate void inside him and couldn't bear to leave him alone.

(Because every moment with Starrk had filled something in Shunsui's own heart that he hadn't even known had been missing until Starrk had slotted into his life so neatly, so easily, that it had felt like he was always meant to be there.)

And he'd known for months, ever since time travel had become the most likely explanation for Starrk and Ichigo's origins, that there was no way Starrk hadn't known him in another life, and known him well, because that was the only thing that explained it all with perfect, horrifying sense.

A better man than Shunsui would not have followed, would've given him space. But a better man wouldn't have reduced someone's heart to a grief-stricken ruin either, cut so deep that it had carved that anguish straight into their very soul, so Shunsui figures that since a future version of himself has already sunk about as low as he possibly can, he might as well keep going and see if there's anything at all that he can do to fix what another him - still him, in the end, with a mere hundred years and change between them - has so clearly, carelessly, cruelly broken.

One of the things that had been revealed earlier had been Ichigo's background, because they'd all noticed the flashes of Quincy and Hollow in his reiatsu. Kaien had broken three sake cups and almost Urahara's face, and even by the end, he'd still looked murderous enough that Shunsui had almost pitied Shiba Isshin's foreseeable future. But Ichigo's ancestry had led to Starrk's, whose reiatsu may be as inherently dangerous as Shunsui's but has never read as anything less than perfectly Shinigami. They'd all been curious for a while, because Starrk was the kind of old and powerful that very few people could get to, and none that could and still remain unknown for so long, but there'd also been no Coyote Starrk in the Gotei 13 until this version who'd time-travelled had arrived in the Seireitei.

Starrk hadn't beaten around the bush. He'd pulled open the front of his Shihakushou and bared the web of scars below his collarbones, slightly branched out but thick and concentrated over his sternum in a distinctly circular mass.

"I'm not a Shinigami," He'd said calmly, plainly.

"You kind of are," Ichigo had mused, even as he'd glowered death eyes at them all when Starrk wasn't looking.

Starrk had shaken his head. "There's no name for what I am. I just evolved enough to fix my own soul."

He'd placed a hand over the scarring, and his gaze became distant enough that Shunsui's hands had twitched with the urge to reach out, even while the others had gaped, visibly shocked because it's one thing to have a soul like Ichigo's, one ultimately man-made, cobbled together from hope and desperation and a scientist's gamble; it's another entirely to realize that Shinigami have perhaps been looking at Hollows the wrong way for as long as any of them have existed.

(Because all Hollows are ultimately the product of the Shinigami's failure to save them in time, though most don't view it that way anymore, if they ever have. Because the possibility of a Hollow saving themselves has never even been a thought exercise in anyone's mind.)

Shunsui hadn't cared. No, that wasn't entirely correct. He'd been just as stunned as the others at this revelation that overturned millennia's worth of ironclad beliefs. But he'd been far, far more perturbed by what he could see of a second scar on Starrk's chest that bisected the circular one, faded just enough to indicate that it wasn't a very recent injury, but still deep and ragged and vivid enough to show how lethal it had been, how fatal, and-

And Shunsui had seen enough- dealt enough damage with his Zanpakutou to know the kind of wounds his blades left in their wake. And as if that wasn't enough, Katen had murmured in his mind, terrible and possessive and ruthlessly final, "Yes, his is a life we claimed for ourselves."

Shunsui had been almost relieved when Starrk had blinked back into the present and pulled his Shihakushou back on properly before continuing in a sedate tone, "We concluded that this is the final step for a Hollow, that they're allowed a chance to become whole again. It's just that even the strongest Hollows usually only survive for a few hundred years before something kills them, or they just don't have the power levels to climb that high, especially in the time they have."

He'd smiled then, but there'd been no humour in his expression, only infinite emptiness. "I survived, and I'm strong. So I guess this was my prize."

Nobody had really known what to say about all that, though Urahara had done an admirable job of recovering, and then an even more admirable job of pretending he didn't immediately want to whip out one piece of equipment or another and start scanning Starrk for data. They'd moved the conversation back to more information on the Quincy instead, although there would definitely be more questions in the future. But it'd been a lot to take in, and everybody had needed time to digest.

Now, hours later, Shunsui waits a bit before getting up as well and quietly making his way to the hot spring. He isn't surprised when he finds Starrk already rising from the water and reaching for a towel, evidently prepared to leave.

"Don't go," Shunsui says before he can think better of it, and he doesn't mean it as a demand or order, but he doesn't take it back either when Starrk goes still, water sluicing off of him - all tanned wet skin and strong shoulders and lean muscle for miles and now is really not the time - half turned away, and it's only because of that that even with the steam, Shunsui notices the conspicuous scar left by a stab wound in Starrk's back, just left of the spine.

This time, he doesn't need Katen to say anything at all.

Perhaps he'd dropped his conscience in a ditch on his way here, because he repeats, can't stop himself from repeating, "Don't go. I don't mean to chase you away. It's more than big enough for the both of us, isn't it?"

He pauses, reaches for a hat he'd left behind on his futon, and settles for shrugging out of his clothes instead. "…I'll stay on this side."

He slides into the water and forces himself to wait. When Starrk slowly sinks back into the hot spring, Shunsui very carefully doesn't react to that either.

The silence that settles over them is less tense than one might expect. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Starrk slumps against the edge of the hot spring, eyelids drooping. He has his hair tied back in a bun to keep it out of the water, and it's rare enough that Shunsui can't help taking a few extra looks.

Then again, that's nothing new. Starrk has always drawn his eye. Ukitake likes laughing at him for it.

"Does it bother you?" Starrk speaks up abruptly, unexpected enough that Shunsui almost startles. "That I'm a Hollow."

Shunsui wants to say that this man is so far from everything he'd ever thought even the most advanced Hollows could be that a part of him simply can't reconcile the disconnect. The rest of him…

"You're the same person now as you were before you told us what you are," He points out. "I don't think anything else matters."

Blue-grey eyes slit open, not quite looking in Shunsui's direction, not quite not, expression utterly indecipherable.

"…Did my future self think differently?" Shunsui ventures, but that can't be right. He can't imagine any version of himself who would think that way, especially one who'd lived even longer than he has. Still, his mind flashes back to the scars on Starrk's body, hidden beneath the water now but seared into Shunsui's memory like a brand, and he can't help coming up with increasingly depressing scenarios.

But Starrk blinks, and his focus finally hones in on Shunsui, genuinely surprised, and Shunsui releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"No," Starrk says after a beat of studying him with that too-perceptive gaze. "You've apparently always been more open-minded than most." He cocks his head. "But you were staring, so I thought…"

I always stare at you, haven't you noticed? Shunsui wants to blurt out, but he swallows it down with only a little effort. Too much, too soon.

After tonight's revelations, after all the speculations he's pieced together bit by bit over the past few months about their past-future relationship, maybe it will always be too soon. But Shunsui's never been in the habit of admitting defeat without even trying, and this time is no different.

"Something is bothering you though," Starrk tacks on, still watching Shunsui through narrowed eyes, and Shunsui wonders if the man realizes how much he looks like he's stalking prey in moments like this.

It should be unsettling, being on the receiving end of such a gaze, and it is, a little, but Shunsui's grown used to it too, grown to appreciate it even, to the feeling of being seen, of being known, and still being wanted.

(Because that's the one thing that's never been in question. Because however much Starrk sometimes reacts like Shunsui's very existence pains him, or how much he sometimes makes Shunsui feel completely bare, every sin and secret laid out for judgement, he's also never looked at Shunsui with anything less than the sort of quiet devotion the tide holds for the moon, or the stars for the sky, or dawn for the horizon, steadfast and eternal. Is it any wonder Shunsui can't stay away?)

"Is it this then?" Starrk asks next, and the water sloshes a little as he straightens up, revealing his scarred chest to tap a finger against the near-horizontal scar cleaved across it, right through where his Hollow hole had presumably still been at the time of the injury. Seeing it in its full gruesome glory now, Shunsui can tell that this wound had to have nearly cut the other man in two.

He feels a little at a loss for words, then sighs and fesses up. "Maa, I suppose I'm just a bit curious." He tries to keep his tone light, but there's really no two ways to say it. "…I did that, didn't I?"

Starrk levels an arch look at him. "Well, you didn't." He slouches back into the water, and somehow, he actually looks a bit amused. "I'm long over it, Taichou-san. We'd just met, and we were enemies at the time. You did what you had to do. We both did. It was war. If it makes you feel better, I gave as good as I got."

Shunsui snorts. That does actually make him feel a bit better. At the very least, this is preferable to the progressively dramatic betrayal scenes he'd been thinking of. He doesn't like the idea of his future self almost killing Starrk, but at least it hadn't happened after they'd become friends.

It does mean he has to reshuffle a few things on his mental timeline though, and across the hot spring, Starrk glances at him again and seems to understand.

"I guess we didn't get around to talking much about Aizen," He muses, then reveals, "We mentioned that before the Quincy became a problem, it was Aizen you all fought. Aizen set up his base of operations in Hueco Mundo, sought out Hollows from all over, and created an army of artificial Arrancar out of them to serve him, using that Hougyoku Ichigo was talking about earlier. I was part of that army."

Shunsui blinks at that revelation, and it's on the tip of his tongue to ask what Aizen - in his quest for world domination - could've possibly offered a man who didn't even like fighting to secure his allegiance. Then again, Shunsui's willing to bet at least a little hypnosis had been involved to ease the way. Aizen doesn't seem the type to bank on genuine fealty without including insurance.

The question stalls in his throat though as Starrk lifts a hand out of the water--his left, the one with the vivid burn scar stretched over the back of it. That isn't something often seen either. Starrk almost always has gloves on. He stares at it for a moment before letting it fall back beneath the water.

"The ten most powerful Arrancar in his army were called the Espada," Starrk explains. "I was the Primera. The first."

"The strongest," Shunsui nods. That sounds right, especially if Starrk had been sent to fight Shunsui.

Starrk shrugs noncommittally and says nothing else, leaving Shunsui to mull over the new information for a minute.

"Ichigo-kun warned us earlier," Shunsui eventually says. "About being Hollowfied by Aizen's Hougyoku. That turning into Visored stunted any chance of growth, and that you weren't even halfway through the Blood War before Lisa-chan and the others' power levels had degraded to barely that of a seated officer's."

Hirako had been grim-faced at the news. Lisa had looked ready to march out and rip Aizen's head off right then and there. Honestly, Shunsui had shared the sentiment.

"Then wouldn't it have been the same for Aizen's Arrancar?" Shunsui continues, watching a puzzled frown furrow at Starrk's brow. "They were granted power by the Hougyoku. Shouldn't it have stunted them too?"

Starrk nods, still frowning. "Yeah, it did. Grimmjow was furious when he found out." He blinks, and then realization strikes. "Oh, you mean me."

Shunsui hums a confirmation. Why in the world would he mean anyone else?

Starrk shakes his head. "I was the exception. Aizen found me last, out of most of the Arrancar. Definitely last out of the Espada. But even then, I was already more powerful than all the others, so he gave me the Primera seat." A corner of his mouth quirks with a cynical sort of mirth. "I didn't want more power, and he certainly wasn't about to give me more. I suppose it was fortunate. I don't think even Aizen knew back then that the Hougyoku would cause stagnation."

Powerful enough to have risen to Arrancar on his own, Shunsui muses, and he has to marvel at that, has to admire it. That kind of strength - mental even more than physical in some ways - isn't something just anyone can possess. Evidently. The only natural Arrancar in the known worlds. The only one to repair his own soul. What an extraordinary accomplishment. Except-

"I'm sorry it took so long," Shunsui says softly, because he knows Starrk is around the same age as himself, and if he was still an Arrancar by Aizen's war, then he could only have spent all the centuries before in Hueco Mundo. Even if he'd had companions there, Starrk would've outlived them all. "It must've been lonely."

I'm sorry nobody could help, because no Shinigami would've known to help. Perhaps most wouldn't have been willing to even if they'd known. I'm sorry I couldn't help.

For a long moment, Starrk is still enough to resemble a statue. Then a scoff of something that could've been laughter if it didn't ache so much claws its way out of his throat. He doesn't lift his gaze from where it's fallen blankly on the shifting surface of the hot spring. "No need to be sorry. I'm used to it."

Used to it. Used to being alone. Used to being left behind.

Shunsui doesn't think he's only talking about those long years in Hueco Mundo anymore, not when he's avoiding eye-contact again, not when Shunsui can suddenly feel the bleak despair radiating from his soul again.

"There's nothing worse than only being able to stand by helplessly while something you love disappears in front of you."

Not for the first time, Shunsui feels an acute desire to have a nice long talk with his future self and ask exactly how much of the agony rippling through Starrk's reiatsu can be placed directly at his feet.

(It isn't as if Shunsui can't understand. Even disregarding all other circumstances, the fact that they'd been at war would've meant that there could be no guarantees.

But still.

Still.

Couldn't he have tried a little harder? Didn't he know better than anyone the pain of being the only one left behind, the way it lingers like a slow unending bleed you're forced to carry until the day death finally deigns to take you too?

Shunsui at least has Ukitake, has Yama-jii, has Retsu-senpai and Sasakibe-san too, has Lisa-chan and Hirako and Kaien-kun, even has Nanao-chan to watch over in his brother and sister-in-law's stead. And in the future, maybe he'd lost them all, but it also sounds like he'd still had one to staunch the bleed, still had Starrk, right to the very end.

Then, who did Starrk have after Shunsui had died?

Isn't the answer obvious? Isn't Starrk still bleeding right now?)

A heavy sigh jolts Shunsui out of his thoughts, and his hands sting from where his nails have dug into his palms, fortunately out of sight. On the other side, Starrk clambers to his feet, water sloughing off his frame as he turns to get out of the hot spring.

The steam obscures his face this time, but even if he could see it, Shunsui thinks it would be one of those times again where he wouldn't be able to read him at all.

"Don't think so hard, Taichou-san," Starrk says, voice as calm as a blanket of snow over a cemetery. "It's not your job to save me."

I can't be saved anymore. I don’t want to be saved.

Shunsui's out of the water and next to Starrk before either of them can blink.

Too much, too soon, a part of him warns, but this time, he throws caution to the wind, reaches out, and closes a hand around Starrk’s wrist.

Starrk freezes, the pulse under Shunsui’s fingers jumps, and for a moment, time seems to stop.

They must look ridiculous, dripping wet and naked, and yet Shunsui barely notices, and Starrk has probably noticed everything but.

"It's not my job, that's true," Shunsui says without letting go, staring at what he could see of the other's face. "And I don't know if what I'm doing is meant to save you. But if you think I'll just let you go to your grave after all this is over, Ichigo-kun is apparently not the one we should've been worrying most about after all."

They had made a mistake, Shunsui realizes. He had made a mistake. Because looking at Starrk and Ichigo--at Starrk who was so steady and composed all the time, and then at Ichigo who was so much more transparent in his misery, in his fury, in his determination to achieve his end goals no matter the cost to himself, that it was almost instinct for everyone to focus their concerns on him. Because for all that Ichigo was reluctant to involve them, and reticent on the best of the days, he was at least also loud about it, and therefore was that much easier to help--to know they need to help.

Compared to him, Starrk has always shown himself to be the rock in a storm that even Ichigo clearly clings to. He has never been anything less than an ocean of serenity, but perhaps they should've remembered that no ocean is calm beneath the surface.

…No, it's Shunsui who should've remembered. He has literal unparalleled insight into Starrk's soul, feels the ache of it regularly, even if not all the time, except he'd just… not forgotten, that's impossible, but he'd been trying to fix it in his own way, with tea and conversation and countless attempts at coaxing out even just one more smile, except he can never tell when he might be going too far, pushing too fast, wanting too much, always feeling a bit like he's standing helpless in front of a skittish cornered animal too hurt to accept any kind of affection, and so perhaps as a result, Shunsui's ended up failing to show Starrk just how far he's willing to go instead.

Case in point, he's still holding onto Starrk, touching him, skin warm against Shunsui's own. Shunsui would've thought he'd be shaken off by now, possibly tossed into a wall out of reflex if nothing else, but Starrk hasn't even attempted to pull away. His pulse is calming again, but Shunsui can feel the tension in his arm, and he's staring down at their limbs with a lost expression.

Shunsui tightens his grip and runs his thumb along the inside of the other's wrist. He feels more than sees the shiver that runs through Starrk's body, for all that Starrk still hasn't moved. But the lost expression on his face also retreats. It leaves exhaustion-bruised eyes and enough sorrow thrumming through his reiatsu to smother the breath from Shunsui's lungs in its wake, but at the very least, he also finally looks up to meet Shunsui's gaze.

"…I don't know what you want from me, Shunsui," Starrk says wearily.

It's the first time he's ever used Shunsui's name. Shunsui only wishes he wouldn't sound so unbearably sad when saying it, but he'd take what he could get.

"That's easy," Shunsui replies, catching that pale mercurial gaze and holding it. "I want the same thing you've asked of Ichigo-kun. I want you to live."

A long silence follows before a rough sound spills from Starrk's throat like shattered glass.

"'Easy'," Starrk echoes, shoulders shaking, with laughter, with tears. But his eyes are dry, and he's the farthest thing from amused, and his soul feels like it might swallow itself whole just to cease its own existence. So this time, Shunsui lets instinct guide his hands and doesn't let himself second-guess it--in one swift motion, he tugs the other man into his arms and wraps him in a hug like he's wanted to ever since Starrk's soul had grasped for his own like he was drowning and Shunsui was the only one who could pull him to shore. Who could convince him to come ashore.

Starrk collapses against him, shuddering like he might fall apart with even just one more word, one more breath, one more touch, but Shunsui only draws him closer, holds him harder, and refuses to let him go.

#bleach #kurosaki ichigo #coyote starrk #kyouraku shunsui #shunstarrk #ichigo & starrk time travel verse #myscrap #welp this got wildly out of hand #damn it's so fucking long #i hope you like it i guess?#also i just realized it's less your second scenario and more a combination lmao

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quill-of-thoth · 18 hours ago

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The Saga of Great Uncle Asshole And The Priest From Hell

It's thanksgiving (in the US) so have a family gathering disaster that is old enough to be funny. Almost a decade ago, after a life of stirring up drama everywhere she went, my grandmother died. She was an unhappy woman who tried to be better to her grandkids than she was to her kids, and didn't always succeed, and she's the reason that when I smell cinnamon tic tacs they're accompanied by the reek of an illusory cigarette. This is not a sad post. This is a post about the fact that her funeral was a fucking disaster and it was ultimately about 50% her fault. See, my whole family was at one point or another catholic. Grandma really enjoyed going to church in her last years because it got her out of the nursing home, and priests have to listen when you tell them about the husband you divorced and the children who think they know better than you. Grandma did not consider the fact that the local priest she'd latched onto like a talkative moray eel in a cloud of nicotine smoke was an unmitigated bigot. She left instructions that she wanted her funeral to be at that specific catholic church and for that priest to do the sermon. It didn't occur to her that the person who would be organizing her funeral would be her gay daughter and her daughter's wife.

Shit started getting real about when the doors opened to recieve mourners. Over the course of ten minutes, my aunt summoned:

her elder sister, a paralegal

my father, who has never seen a conflict he would not cheerfully walk away from

Their younger brother, in order to swear at the priest

My mother, who hadn't had a good opportunity to fight a priest since we left our own church and was game to do it again.

This left me, the eldest grandchild, in charge of the receiving line, despite the fact that I knew approximately no one there. My brother and cousins were woodenly shaking hands and then whispering "who's that?" "I don't know." My aunt's husband was escorting the elderly and infirm up the stairs one at a time. My uncle's wife was also around but she knew even fewer people and was mostly listening at the door of the ongoing argument.

So when my brother and Boy cousin went to see if we could pry someone who knew who was related to us out of the argument and I was busy trying to convince an octegenarian that she did NOT need to figure out which of her cousins had married one of grandma's siblings before sitting down, Girl Cousin was alone at the door.

Great Uncle Asshole arrived in a storm of curses and a faux-coonskin cap. He blew past Girl Cousin, thumped his cane up the steps, and seized my hand. It was like shaking hands with an extremely strong mummy. "You look just like your mother! It's the hair, what a bird's nest. Where's your daddy? And the rest of Helen's brood."

I muttered something about them finalizing details with the priest.

"Well, they'll come see me soon enough. Bet you don't know who I am!" I didn't know who anyone was. Everyone older than me was having a verbal cage match with a member of the clergy or escorting some other old fogey to their seats, everyone younger than me had even fewer clues, and my only hope was to wrap this conversation as fast as possible. "Nope!" I said, "I haven't seen most of the people here in years." If I had ever seen them in the first place. He was going to be mad, but I figured if I had to be the bouncer I could probably take an eighty-something year old guy who breathed like the surgeon general's personal warning to smokers. I could at least shut the door on him.

"Of course you wouldn't! Your gran wouldn't have told you. I'm your great uncle Roger, and I'm here to bury the hatchet, by which I mean your grandma! She and I swore over our father's casket we'd never be under the same roof again while we both lived, and by god I kept my oath!" People were starting to stare, and it was at this moment that a thirty-something man in a suit sprinted up the stairs, and my uncle's wife, with a look of dawning horror, called her husband. "Roger's here." The middle aged folks descended immediately. Here is a snapshot of the ensuing conversation: "Roger, why don't we find you a seat?" - my mother in her best teacher voice "Glad to see you're doing well enough to make it" - My father, in his best 'good god I want to be anywhere else' voice. "Take me to the coffin! I want to see her with my own two eyes!" - Great Uncle Asshole, "And hang up my **** hat! Killed it myself!" "I'm so sorry, I didn't know he could walk that fast" - strange suit man "If you are QUITE finished, I am starting the ceremony in ten minutes" - the priest

As my father and his brother towed a grinning and cursing old man to the furthest reaches of the family section, my mother and my oldest aunt caught all the cousins up on the argument with the priest. My youngest aunt was still crying while her wife stared fixedly at the stained glass panes and periodically handed over tissues. The upshot of it all was that my aunt and her wife would be allowed to attend the funeral (on pain of the whole family literally walking out on the priest) but would not be allowed to take communion, because the priest didn't believe in their marriage. My aunt's wife had neglected to point out that, being Jewish, she wasn't going to take communion anyway. "That's fucked" said boy cousin, and the four of us immediately resolved in whispers to refuse communion as well. The priest opened his sermon with pointed remarks about the older generation's devotion and respect for the church. He continued on through psalms and all that until he got to the blessing of the eucharist and asked the family up to receive communion. My father, who hadn't taken communion since I could remember, stayed seated. My mother stayed seated. My aunts and uncles stayed seated. The cousins stayed seated. About a third of the church didn't move. "Well father, I'll have mine! These young folks think hey have all the time in the world to get right with the lord, but you and I know better!" The priest, who had been visibly hoping god would smite us, turned a wincing glare on my great uncle and the series of distant relatives and nursing home neighbors who were now shuffling up. The service dragged on. We were lined up to say goodbye to everyone, while the suit man (who would turn out to be my second cousin) bodily hauled great uncle asshole and his coonskin cap down the stairs. "I should have known my sister wouldn't manage to raise any good Catholics! Horrible woman." he said loudly as he was stuffed into a car driven by suit man's apparent twin. The priest approached as we were finally ready to leave, to ask why we were so stubborn that we deprived ourselves of communion. After all, unlike my youngest aunt, we weren't obvious sinners! "Oh, I'm Lutheran" - My eldest aunt. "I'm an atheist" - My uncle "I don't think you're qualified to bless anything." - My mother, who learned her religion primarily from a horde of socialist-leaning nuns.

With that, we left the wreck of my grandmother's funeral behind. "Helen," said my mother, very deliberately, when we were safely in the car, "would have HATED that." My dad started laughing. "Are you kidding? She would have loved that! It would have been all she complained about for years!"

#and then we had to go to the funeral luncheon #where we properly met the second cousins #explained the tea about the priest to them #and played a rowdy game of 'which of us is going the most to hell according to conservative catholocism'#which I won only by virtue of being the only out queer cousin #at the time anyway #apparently I was the only kid great uncle asshole knew existed #because he and grandma had had their falling out when I was ONE #Also grandma and great uncle's father was a piece of work #so all around a disaster zone #grandma STILL managed to drop a drama bomb on the following thanksgiving #from beyond the grave #because in her papers she left behind accusations that grandpa had cheated on her #at this point they had been divorced for over thirty years!

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cripplecharacters · 1 day ago

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Hello. I am writing about a main character who has Down syndrome (12 years old). How does a child like her would react to mother death and moving to an old house? I want to be respectful while writing her.

Hi asker,

So there are a couple different things to think about.

For one, death of a loved one is hard for everyone, and the death of a parent is very difficult for pretty much all children. Change is hard, and this is a very permanent change that can be very traumatic because a person a kid expects to be with for way more time is now gone. The closer the child was to her mother, the harder this is going to be for her.

On change being hard, ID can make it harder for her to adapt to change. "Harder" does not mean "impossible." "Harder" means maybe they have to make a plan to help her transition to her new living space, maybe it needs to be explained to her more often, things like that. Maybe she needs support from lots of visuals, maybe she's asking questions a lot of the time, maybe she has trouble with doing things because of the stress. And this is from just the change of moving – all of this will likely be compounded with the stress of not having her mother. For this, people can try to help her by trying to provide as much of a sense of normalcy and trying to make sure she can have some sort of... it doesn't have to be a routine per se, just trying to make sure that some things don't change.

Abstract concepts are sometimes hard for kids, although less so by age 12 than for younger children. Abstract concepts can also be more difficult for people with intellectual disability (as is likely the case for your character with Down Syndrome). So, how is the death explained to her?

Best practice to explain death to children, including and especially kids with I/DD, is to use concrete and simple language. Euphemisms don't help much, especially for children, because euphemisms have context behind them that a child doesn't have. Euphemisms can also be misunderstood and unclear.

So, if she actually understands what's going on because people are explaining things to her in a way she can understand, ultimately this is going to be much better for her than if she doesn't understand that her mother isn't coming back because people keep being vague and saying things like "she's in a better place" and she keeps hoping to join her mom in this "better" place. Or it might take some time for her to understand the situation, and she might experience delayed grief.

Who is she moving with? Who is going to take care of her — she's a kid, she can't do it all by herself. Does she know them already? Is she just meeting them? If she's never met them before, this will probably be even more stressful to her — basically every single thing in her life is changing. That's huge. That's stressful and can be hard for her to understand why everything is different.

Overall, at the end of the day she's just a person, a child specifically, being put in an incredibly difficult situation. She has emotions like anyone else — there is a misconception that people with Down Syndrome are always happy, and that's just not true. They have

She's in a situation where adults with zero disabilities would probably have a super rough time as well. Add on to that being a kid, and add on to that being intellectually disabled, and it's probably going to be a really stressful situation. So, think about how your character reacts when she's stressed out, and factor in her disability.

Here's some links to grief and I/DD and grief and children. I have read through them, though not all of them at length. They do have information that you can use, whether on how she'd react or how others around her could react, but either way use your own judgement.

Helping People With Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities Process Grief by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF file)

Responding to Grief Reactions of People with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF File)

Bereavement In The Lives Of People With Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Managing Grief Better: People with Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Helping People With Intellectual Disabilities Cope With Loss by the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center (PDF File)

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

#down syndrome representation #intellectual disability representation #parental death cw #mod sparrow #death tw #anonymous

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pixeldolly · 16 hours ago

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The Survivors, part 5

(the last batch)

☢️Erwin Pries (by @frauhupfner )

Erwin knows what nobody else seems to - that it wasn't a government experiment gone wrong or an enemy bomb which destroyed that secret lab and unleashed the zombie virus - it was the ALIENS! That's right - wake up, people!

Erwin may look and sound like a kook, but his ideas are surprisingly persuasive - or maybe people are just desperate for an explanation.

☢️Todd Estrella (Sim & bio by @moyokeansimblr)

Todd is rather arrogant but he's a sweetheart deep down. He's not malicious, just big headed and bad at reading social cues to know when he's out of line. He thinks he's tough, so expect him to go into this experience EXTREMELY over-confident before realizing he knows nothing about simanity, let alone apocalyptic simanity. IE volunteering to do things he can't, being places he shouldn't. But he's an excellent hype man. I imagine this experience to be very humbling for him and bring him closer to simkind.

Todd's sexuality should the opportunity present itself, is everybody. But he does have a preference for whatever big strong man is actually the one in charge of everything.

Todd is afraid of everything but masks it with curiosity. His biggest fear is the dark and his bedroom in the UFO he arrived in had six nightlights but don't tell anyone that.

Todd thinks that because he's an alien he's immune to sim germs and grime. But he very much is not.

☢️Hernesto & Nicolas Esposito (Sims & bios by @gvaudoiin-tricou )

Hernesto was one of the scientists in charge of a failed experiment that cost him an eye. When he found Nicolas, he knew the boy was special, but what truly caught his attention was his bright red eyes...and not the fact that the boy was covered in blood, surrounded by corpses. In that moment, he knew neither of them would be alone anymore.

Nicolas never knew who his parents were, or at least doesn't remember their faces. When people started killing each other and resources became scarce everywhere, Nicolas was just a kid hiding in an alley among corpses. Maybe he killed them, maybe he didn't...he doesn't remember either way.

☢️Anne Cleves (by @clouseplayssims)

Anne was a rich, sheltered girl whose family wanted her to marry a much older, several-times divorced man for money.

If not for society collapsing, Anne would probably have gone along with it like a good, dutiful daughter, but now she doesn't have to. If anything good could be said to have come out of the disaster, it is her freedom. Anne would rather take her chances with the zombies, honestly.

(This is my take on a post-apocalyptic Anne of Cleves, lol)

☢️Almalexia Goth (Sim & concept by @veronadragon)

They were the fruit of an affair between a rich Pleasantview socialite and a local man, and as a result she has grown up with many complicated feelings regarding their family.

On the one hand, they are away from all of that now - on the other, ruins are awfully cold and uncomfortable to sleep in compared to the cushy Goth manor, to say nothing of rampaging zombies...

☣️Hoppie AKA Patient Zero (by @andrevasims )☣️

When Hoppie drifted into Fallow Shores, she wasn't feeling very well, so she steered clear of the other survivors.

She'd seen what happened to the others!

That was not going to happen to her - she just needed to sleep, she'd feel better in the morning...

#sims 2 #ts2 #the sims 2 #sims2 #sims 2 apocalypse challenge #apocalypse challenge

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ghouljams · 2 days ago

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how does one become free of insecurity? i’m already doing therapy but i feel i’ve only moved away from hating myself so much i want to d*e into just thinking everyone’s better than me

It's a long journey, but well worth it.

I don't think anyone is ever truly free of insecurity, but I think there's also a lot that is unpacked simply through the language we use to describe ourselves and the jokes we allow other people to make at our expense.

Therapy is great at helping you deal with the big feelings, but sometimes little things get caught in your head and it's hard to shake them. Here are some things that I do to keep myself feeling good, and also some things that I'm working on:

No suicide jokes. I make it a point never to joke about "oh I'll just kill myself" or anything like that because ultimately it just makes me feel worse and nobody finds it funny. It's also a good way to change your thinking and direct your solution brain away from "I'll just end things when shit gets hard." This one is a constant battle.

I compliment myself whenever I have the chance. I take every compliment someone gives me. I pretend to be vapid and self-absorbed. I make kissy faces at myself in the mirror. I tell other people how pretty I am, and I don't fucking care if they think I'm a stupid bimbo because I'm trying to love myself and that's more important.

Being kinder to my younger self. This one feels weird but I found myself being mean to little Ghoul when I was really sad. It feels easy to take out your anger on a kid that didn't know any better, and it doesn't guilt you because that's you that you're hating. But look. You were just a kid. You weren't stupid or ugly or unlovable or evil, you were a kid. I just caught myself calling my teenage self ugly the other day on my way to visit my mom and I had to stop and go "why am I saying this? I was just a kid." And it made me cry a li'l bit ngl, but if felt... idk it felt good in a way.

Don't let fucking anyone tell you, you're not worth it. Does your friend make jokes about how dumb you are? Or how you're so cringey? Or so embarrassing or bad at something or forgetful or WHATEVER? Yeah, fuck that noise. Tell them to stop doing that. Tell them it hurts your feelings and if they still don't stop they aren't your friend, they're your bully. I fucking hate bullies. Don't let anyone talk down to you, I don't care if it was a joke at first, it's not funny anymore. Fuck them.

This is something I'm working on, but when you start fixing one insecurity another will probably pop up. I've been working for a long time on liking how I look, and it's gone really well. But now I'm insecure about my intelligence. So I have to stop myself from calling myself stupid or not answering questions. I just fucking rocked my work trivia party, and Mr. Ghoul thinks I'm smart, so I just gotta keep track of my wins. Sometimes you realize that making yourself secure in one thing makes you insecure about another, but that's ok! There's a learning curve to all of this.

Everyone thinks everyone else is better than them. You don't have to be the best at everything, you don't even have to be the best at one thing! What's important is that you're doing your best. People notice when you're working hard, even if you're not churning out the best product because it means you care about it. Which brings me to

Done is better than perfect. Sure it would be great if you were God's most specialist soldier, but think about how much work that would be! Ok so you're not the world's best knitter, but the scarf you made your friend is their favorite scarf anyway because you made it. So you're not a world class writer, but you had a story in your head and you wrote it down. That's better than it never being written at all. Also just because you think it's bad doesn't mean other people won't think it's a masterpiece. Hell, half of the fics I wrote when I first started this blog I could write better now but that doesn't make them bad, it just means I've gotten better.

We as humans are constantly improving and evolving. Don't let who you are no stop you from striving towards who you'll be in the future. Taking one step down the path towards loving yourself is better than giving up and hating yourself forever. It's slow going, but man I've been doing this shit for a decade and I'm so much happier than I was at 18.

You might think that the more you improve the harder and faller you'll fall back to the bottom, but the lows don't get that low again. You're doing great. I'm proud of you.

#ghoul speaks

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emo-trash101 · 10 hours ago

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HELLO HELLO HELLO ONYX‼️‼️‼️

I SAW THAT YOU'RE BACK

I MISSED YOU SO MUCH OMG.

(and your writing but you're more important <3)

ALSO WITH ARCANE??? YOU FEED ME.

So yeah,you guessed it,Arcane asking time‼️

May I have Salo (He's my baby girl I love him he's my favorite LOOK AT MY WIFE HE'S SO PRETTY.),Silco,Singed,Vander,Ambessa,Mel,Jayce and Viktor (feel free to remove or change some of them,I just love giving people a wide range of characters to choose from!! I just want Salo the most ajgehhw) with a CHILD!reader (haha platonic asker is back >:3) that they basically adopted from Zaun with a weird condition that makes them need to breathe through a filtering mask? Because they can't breathe normal air and has to get a certain gas in their lungs otherwise they aren't okay? Imagine it breaking after they get in a fight with someone or fall and they all just panic...

So basically gas mask baby. Just a little silly guy.

So yeah!! I really hope you enjoy writing this prompt,my dear friend!!!

Don't forget to eat,drink and take breaks as always!!

Always stay proud!!

Your mutual and friend,

-Nina <33

OMG IK IM SO EXCITED TO BE BACK! ALSO HAPPY THANKSGIVING IF ITS THIS TIME OF YEAR FOR YOU :))

Salo, Vander, Jayce and Victor x Asthmatic! Child

Platonic

Pronouns: Second person

Tw: illness, potential child endangerment (It's arcane so ERM, what else do you expect) Also potential spoilers

Salo -

- I think he was like most people from piltover and was like "UHM, what is this dirty little dirt baby doing near me why are they coughing are they diseased?"

- I think the beginning of him taking you in would be like, he decides you probably shouldn't be in the road coughing and essentially on the verge of perishment.

- So he takes you to the nearest doctors office and is like fully prepared to just, disappear.

- That was until the doctor looks at him and says "Oh, councilor Salo, I didn't know you had a child?"

- After that he just, accepted his fate as a father.

- At first I don't think he would be that warm and comforting, but it's just generally an adjustment period.

- He learns to take care of you through long amounts of trial and error, and eventually you both form a decent connection.

- It wasn't exactly father and child, but more so friendly roommates

- That was until you finally got your diagnosis.

- Before now he was kinda just your dad in theory, sure he fed you and helped you when you cried and comforted you through long nights when you couldn't breathe but that was completely and totally just because he had to.

- But something inside of him just feels so sad for you when the doctor first straps your mask onto your face.

-After that your relationship changes for the better.

-You both seem to bond and become more close in a way that he wasn't exactly expecting.

-He becomes more vigilant about what you eat and what you're doing and making sure that you don't break your mask.

- Eventually, he feels more like your dad in a real sense, not just on metaphorical paper.

Vander (Pre ep3) -

- At first he wasn't exactly going to become fatherly figure to you.

- I mean after all he has 4 other children he has to look after and you surely have parents somewhere.

- It took one week for the powder and the others to get used to you being there, and 2 weeks for Vander to realize no one was coming for you.

- After that Vander decided that it was better to just take you under his wing and care for you.

- First thing he did after deciding that was getting into contact with the best doctor in Zaun to try and figure out why you were coughing so much.

- The next thing he did was try not to cry when they forced the mask onto you so that you could breathe.

- After that though, things went significantly well.

- You bonded more closely with Powder than anyone, mainly because of the feeling of being both the youngest and the least helpful.

- Even when they did take you on missions, you'd get out of breath, or get your mask broken.

- Vander learned very fast that he should learn how to fix it.

- But after that, everything was good, and you had a family for as long as that could last.

Jayce -

- Of most of the people in Piltover, I think he would be the one of the most inclined to help you.

- I feel like he would pretty consistently take walks out, and that's where he would find you.

- He would find you sitting against a wall coughing so hard it was sure to have been heard at least a mile away.

- He would definitely panic and try to talk to you and figure out what happened, and then realize that verbal communication is the least effective communication for him to have picked.

-So instead he picks you up and rushes you to the nearest doctors office.

- With the way that he's so panicked and treating you so kindly, the doctors just assume that he's your father.

- After the doctors explain to him what your illness is he immediately thinks of Victor.

- At first, his reason behind taking care of you was that he was just making sure you were okay before he looks for your real parents.

- But eventually, he just gets so used to you being around that he kinda just forgets that he should be looking for them, and instead just leans into the fatherly role.

- It took a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of conversations with Mel to figure out how to take care of a child and how to progress with your illness.

- And after all of it, he officially files for adoption of you.

- And he's the best dad you could ever ask for

Victor -

- Objectively, I think he would be the best out of all of them.

- He likely found you before he went to Piltover, and he took care of you almost immediately.

- He knows how it feels to be different from other kids your age, what it's like to be made just, wrong.

-He cares for you, and eventually he moves you both to Piltover.

-It was an extremely risky decision for him to have made, but it was for you to get a good doctor, and for him to get a good job.

- After you receive your mask and your diagnosis, he becomes more protective.

- He cleans your mask once a day to make sure it doesn't build up gunk and becomes more dangerous to your lungs.

- He also becomes more vigilant on what you're doing and if that can cause your mask to break.

- After he eventually receives his diagnosis, he decides that after his time is up that he's going to give you to Jayce.

- But before that time comes, he's gonna love you like you're his own.

UHM I feel like these got aggressively more depressing but it's probably fine, I hope you enjoyed this one Nina!

Make sure to drink water and eat food :)

#arcane #arcane x reader #jayce talis #salo arcane #mel medarda #victor arcane #UHM GUYS I HAVE DADDY ISSUES CAN U TELL?

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aerinfrankellove · 2 days ago

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2024-25 Season Prediction Survey Results

Read below or read a better formatted version here

The second PWHL season looms heavy on the horizon, and with preseason camps underway, the prospect of change, a new season with new storylines and new team names and logos and new players, haunts us all. We may not all be sports experts, but after watching the first season for months and eagerly awaiting the second, we all have our own ideas of how season two might go. Whether they’re logical ideas or not will be seen upon the future, but I, lover of data and spreadsheets, decided to gather up all your opinions and predictions of how season two will go, from the biggest honor (The Walter Cup) to random questions regarding trades and penalty minutes

Team Predictions -

This was the easy part of the form. Minimal prior knowledge, you didn’t even need to know the team names because I put them all in as multiple choice questions. Hypothetically everyone could have just picked randomly and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. That being said, some interesting trends emerged from you folks, some predictable and some less so.

Walter Cup Winners: Boston Fleet or Montreal Victoire (35.3%)

This was probably one of the closest races beneath the team with only about a single vote difference between Boston winning it all and Montreal winning it all at any one time. As an entirely unbiased Boston fan and casual Montreal enjoyer, I think this prediction is definitely founded in something. Montreal and Boston project to be two of the stronger teams, but I also think I’m biased if only because of how many Montreal and Boston fans I see in comparison to other teams. With all that being said, I’d be disappointed but not surprised if some other less represented team (Seriously does no one believe New York can win? Even Ottawa got a single vote and y’all really hated Ottawa) wins it going away after a hot season. But as my father always says, that’s why we play the game and this game/series in particular is quite a far ways away.

Walter Cup Runner Ups: Montreal Victoire (35.3%)

Honestly, I was expecting pretty similar results for this question as the question above, after all if the general consensus is that one of those two teams will win the cup, then one of them would have to lose it, right? Well Montreal was right up there, but unexpectedly Toronto came in second with 24% of people having enough faith in Toronto getting to the finals and then very little faith in them actually winning it, girlfailures that they are. Montreal tied with them to get second in the cup, followed by Boston (please god don’t let it come to that I don’t think my heart could take two years in a row) and then the mish mash of the Sirens, Frost, and Charge.

First in the standings: Toronto Sceptres (32.4%)

So Montreal was leading this right up until I was actually writing and then I had to completely change my paragraph mid writing which was so much fun and definitely not irritating at all, but Toronto overtook Montreal for first, aiming for that repeat first in the standings and dare I be speaking sacrilege against the Victoire (who I do like more than the Sceptres) I honestly think they have a better chance. Like a 45% chance vs. a 40% chance. Boston carried up third place in voting and as much as I love the Fleet I think lots of things would have to go right for that to happen (another stunning season by Frankel, more consistent offense, an actual power play, so on and so forth).

Additionally, as much as I hate to say it, I think we’re seriously underselling Minnesota, just because they made some inadvisable choices during the off season doesn’t mean they still aren’t largely the team who won the Walter cup and has theoretically gotten better during the offseason. Then again, I’d be as happy as anyone to see them crash and burn a little bit so it’s all speculatory. New York got a grand total of two votes but I’m secretly rooting for them to surprise some people. Ottawa got none, but we can cover that in the next section.

Last in the standings: Ottawa Charge (52.9%)

Guys. Guys, really? Ottawa fans, I am begging you, come represent your team because this is embarrassing. Like I don’t know much about what Ottawa’s been up to other than rebuilding the Czech National Team (shout out to Carla Macleod I am manifesting you knowing what you are doing). Like they weren’t bad last year, they were second in goals for, and they did lose a bit but they had tons of overtime losses which means they were in the games. Hell, they were very nearly in the playoffs, they were in the same category as Minnesota and Boston, the two finalist teams! Apparently my unpopular opinion is that Ottawa isn’t going to suck (They hopefully have two solid goalies now so Masch won’t be overworked, they signed some good players, I feel like I’m going crazy.) Otherwise, there’s not much notable in this section other than some doubt about the Sirens and the Frost (lord let it be the Frost /j) but shoutout to the one person truly going against the grain and saying that Montreal is gonna get dead last, I applaud your bravery.

The Four Playoff Teams:

This question was a little less straightforward so we’re gonna split it into three sections. The (Predicted) Shoe-ins, The Contenders, and Ottawa.

The (Predicted) Shoe-ins -

The Sceptres, the Victoire, and the Fleet all had about 30 votes with nearly 90% of respondents selecting them each as one of the potential playoff teams. This fits pretty well with the previous votes of the Walter Cup winners and runner ups, so I wasn’t too surprised at any of these. All of these teams should have a decent shot at the playoffs and my own mostly unfounded misgivings about the Sceptres aside, this is all pretty reasonable and I largely think there’s a good chance that this is how it goes..

The Contenders -

The Frost and the Sirens were pretty evenly matched, about half of y’all voted that they’d be one of four playoff teams and I generally agree that they both have a pretty good shot at the playoffs so there isn’t much to talk about here. I’d personally be more excited for the Sirens to make a run at the playoffs, I think they have a chance to be good after last season and hopefully put some things together over the summer, but we shall see.

Ottawa -

You know I already wrote a whole ramble about this and since then Ottawa beat Boston 6-1 in the preseason and I think they heard how little faith you guys had in them and decided to take it out on my team. That’s all I’m gonna say on that.

The Trade Predictions:

These answers were definitely a bit less clear cut due to the nature of the question, after all it’s a lot easier to say who you think will be good than try and get into the head of GMs and coaches, but a few trends emerged nonetheless. The Frost, the Sirens, and the Charge all got 19 or 20 apiece and I think it makes a bit of sense. After all the Sirens and the Charge seemingly stand the most to gain through trade having missed the playoffs, and from later responses those who voted Minnesota were manifesting a Britta Curl trade which I’ll refrain from judging at the moment. I will say I’m a bit surprised that less people voted for Boston, after all unless my memory is entirely wrong they had the most trades over the course of last season and seem to hold very few qualms about it.

0.500+ Winning Percentage: Montreal Victoire (84.8%)

Guys, I respect this take, I’m 90% sure this was one of my votes for an above .500 team as well, but may I speak a little bit of heresy against the Victoire? Like they’re gonna be good, I don’t have doubt in that, but I don’t know if they’re gonna be that decisively good. They’re a bit injured which could lead to a rocky start and do we all still remember how much they relied on those top few players especially in the playoffs? I’m pretty sure in the Boston series their fourth line may have gotten less than ten minutes overall which I’m not an expert on hockey but isn’t a whole thing about balancing ice time and having solid lines all the way through so your stars aren’t having absurdly long nights (shout out to Erin Ambrose you deserve a gun)?

Otherwise this follows the general trends of the playoffs with a bit more faith in the Frost than in the Sirens, a reasonable amount for the Fleet and Sceptres, and absolutely none in Ottawa which I think we’ll all come to regret but I’ve said my piece about that already so I won’t beat a dead horse into the ground.

Higher Goals For than Goals Against: Toronto Sceptres (68.8%)

This risks getting into actual smart people hockey stuff that I am by no means an expert in, so I won’t spend too long other than to just share the results. Toronto and Montreal are the only two teams with a confidence rate of over 50%, followed by Boston, Minnesota, New York, and Ottawa. I think it’s interesting to think about potential offensive numbers but really can’t speak much to how accurate these have the chance of being because my main reaction is “huh yeah that’s a statistic people can make predictions on”

Player Predictions -

This definitely was a lot less definitive on almost all fronts, and I joked while advertising this that you could just type in MPP for all the answers and get half of them right, which seems to be the approach that some of you took. It’s fair, but expect a lot of repetition looking at these charts due to that because she is just that pervasive. I’ll try to mention as many players you guys picked as possible but you might have to look at the charts because I am neither an expert in all players nor a good enough writer to say anything other than “Yeah that’s certainly a player”

Above 1.00 points per game played: Marie Philip-Poulin (13 votes)

And here is the start to our MPP sweep, starting strong off the bat, about half of the 26 answers to this question included her which makes sense. She was second only to Natalie Spooner last season, with 1.1 pt/g and unless something weird happens I see no reason to suspect otherwise from her. I honestly didn’t expect as many other players to be suggested, after all it was only Natalie Spooner and Marie Philip-Poulin which makes sense, it’s an impressive statistic, but everyone seemed to have their favorites. Sarah Nurse was one player who hasn’t really been on my radar but you guys seem to like her, for this question and a bunch of other ones. I personally am partial to a Hilary Knight comeback season from this list but would be interested to see anyone make that jump.

In the Top Ten Points Getters: Marie Philip-Poulin (15 votes)

Everyone raise their hands if they’re surprised MPP won this in a landslide, oh wait literally no one is surprised I could have told you this when it was literally only my vote on the board. You’ll learn very quickly that oftentime the runaway winner of these simple questions aren’t really the interesting ones, it’s everyone else that got nominated that you can really dig into. Everyone who got top 10 last year, 18-27 points was up here in this list except Brianne Jenner and Katerina Mrazova which I’m chalking up to you guy’s Ottawa hate. Shoutout to Tobi and the one other person who voted for Gabbie Hughes and also Ronja Savolainen, you are the real ones rooting for the Charge.

Also I don’t know if it’s because with Natalie Spooner just kind of ruled the world coming out of Toronto I was completely blindsided by Sarah Nurse on most of these questions sorry Nursey I forgot you existed a little bit hopefully the Toronto girlies don’t tear me apart for that one.

PIMPG Over 1.00 Minutes: Abby Roque (16 votes)

The certainty of the questions ticks up by one for the next few and as much as everyone believed in MPP being awesome overall, one more person believed in Abby Roque being a criminal on skates and/or overly penalized, I didn’t leave room for that distinction. Tereza Vanišová earned the dubious distinction of second place but only with 6 votes and Emma Maltais earned third with a measly 3. Not a ton of Rookie representation here but I’ll be interested to see if any of this draft class take up this mantle. Also shoutout to the two people who voted Kaleigh Fratkin despite her not playing that’s so real and valid of you.

Save Percentage Over 0.920: Aerin Frankel (17 votes)

With the most votes of any player for a single category, Aerin Frankel, The Green Monster, love of my life and the blockade of the Boston Fleet, absolutely swept this category. I might have been thinking this in my head, but it’s good to see my Frankel love reaffirmed for the upcoming season because she deserves it all. And maybe a gun if Boston decides to have a few repeat performances from last year (cough two fifty+ save games in a row cough). The goalie questions have an inherently smaller pool so there were fewer surprises because as a certified goalie lover I try to keep tabs on the situation in net across the league. I’m shocked ARD didn’t get as much of a nod here from Montreal fans but suppose the appeal of Montreal is dissimilar to Boston in that regard as you theoretically have a consistent offense.

20+ Games Started as a Goalie: Aerin Frankel (16 votes)

Honestly I’m surprised Maschmeyer didn’t run away with this question because if it’s who I’d like to see start 20 games and do wonderfully it’d definitely be Frankel but I think with the possible addition of Klara Peslarova Boston shouldn’t be overly reliant on her with Soderburg and potentially Peslarova to back her up. I suppose it might be overwhelming faith in Gwyneth Phillips to be a solid number 2 in Ottawa but she wasn’t that represented in other goalie questions so maybe it was just an oversight considering Masch had the most starts of any goalie in the league last year. More interestingly, I respect the one person who refrained from answering and basically said that there’s so much depth in the league that no goalie will get 20 out of 30 starts. I’m not sure if it’s accurate, but the depth is real so it’s possible.

Billie Jean King (MVP) Nominee: Marie-Philip Poulin (10 votes)

And now we’re officially back in MPP territory and I’m not gonna spend too much time breaking this down because yeah. If Poulin has a repeat performance from last season and Spooner’s out for a significant portion of the season on LTIR, it’s her award to lose. But let’s look at some of the people you think she has the chance to lose it to. Once again you guys are on the Sarah Nurse train and you know what I support. Seeing the team ratios, lots of Toronto, a smattering of everyone else, no Ottawa, is definitely interesting but I’m not nearly smart enough to make conclusions as to what that means so I’ll leave it up to you to decide. (Something something teams with depth might have less obvious candidates if they’re all kicking in?)

Forward of the Year Nominee: Marie-Philip Poulin (10 votes)

Wow. MPP for forward of the year, who possibly could have predicted this. Definitely not me. And yes, you all are probably right but that’s not interesting! That’s not fun and cool and interesting so let’s move on. More Sarah Nurse love in this house and I think I can confidently say there aren’t very many of you confident in a repeat performance from Spooner/think her injured status will prevent her from potentially making this list. It’s a bit more prominent but there’s definitely a big Daryl Watts faction of supporters and honestly I endorse this. I might not be a huge Toronto girlie but I always have a soft spot for players who move teams and she just seems like a very easy person to root for. I just hope she doesn’t do too well against Boston this Saturday <3

Defender of the Year Nominee: Ella Shelton and Erin Ambrose (7 votes)

See isn’t this fun, isn’t this interesting, a tie for first place and none of them are named Marie-Philip Poulin! (ignore the fact she isn’t eligible) Honestly, I think Ella Shelton and Erin Ambrose are the obvious but objectively correct candidates. They were both nominated and both deserving but I think Shelton was a little robbed, after all she was second in points for her team as a defender and fifth yes that’s right, fifth place for points overall. But alas Erin Ambrose is a titaness and also deserved the award so that’s not the point. The point is I think I’m slightly biased towards Shelton between our two winners. As our runners up, we’re really feeling that Sophie Jaques love and I might be anti-Minnesota but I can’t bring myself to be ant-Sophie Jaques. Of course I endorse Keller (Go Fleet!) and can’t say I know enough about the rest of these players defensively to speak definitively on their chances.

Goalie of the Year Nominee: Aerin Frankel (13 votes)

Peace and love on planet earth there’s not much to say that I didn’t already say in the save percentage or games started section so I won’t dawdle too much here other than to say that there was a little less variation of who you thought would be nominated versus who you thought would have a good season (starting 20+ times, high save percentage). You guys tend to stick with proven goalies, which makes sense and I can’t see any place I’d disagree other than to say I think that if Corinne Schroeder keeps up her save percentage (higher than Soupy last year) and New York lets her see less of a volume of shots (she saw about 31 per game as compared to Campbell’s 24) by actually playing defense, she could separate a bit from the other goalies in the league. I’m always rooting for Aerin Frankel and think she got robbed last year, so if she stays the Green Monster she was last season I think she has a really good chance.

Rookie of the Year Nominee: Sarah Fillier (12 votes)

This really reaffirmed for me that most of us have absolutely no clue anything about the depth of this rookie class. Of the nine players named, ⅔ of them were the first round of the draft, one of them isn’t even a rookie (Sorry Daryl Watts you won’t be getting this piece of hardware), and Curl and Daniel were second and third round picks respectively. Meanwhile over 20 rookie skaters got points in the preseason games alone and only Serdachny and Fillier from this list got more than 1 point. The rest of those seven players were all but forgotten. And I get it, preseason is preseason, but my prediction is we’ll have a few unexpected standouts who really break out in the league when no one really saw them coming. I don’t think Sarah Fillier will be snubbed with nominations, her preseason hatty proved that she’s coming out on all cylinders, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the other two are people not listed here. We shall see.

Significantly Better Year (Pt/G increased by at least 0.4): Hilary Knight (7 votes)

Listen, I might be biased as she is the Captain of the Fleet (which sounds so cool and I do need art of her in a pirate uniform immediately if not sooner) but I personally am rooting for a Hilary Knight revenge tour. I think we saw it at the rivalry series and in the single preseason game she graced the ice with her presence, but I think she’s the type of player who underperformed last season and is now prepared to rip the league a new one. This was definitely one of the more varied questions with most candidates getting 1 or 2 votes so I’ll let you make your own opinions though I will say a lot of you are on the Daryl Watts train and think she’ll find her footing in Toronto. My one note is I’m not sure if some of you got the question because there are some candidates here (Sarah Nurse most notably) who had great and/or good seasons (above 0.5 points per game) and going up by 0.4 or more would mean they’d become transcendent players on the same level as the Spooners and Poulins of last season. I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying there’s only so high players can go reasonably.

Involved in a Trade: Britta Curl (2 votes)

If the last question was a wide field of answers, this was a complete crapshoot. Aside from what I assume are two Minnesota fans hoping to dump Britta Curl on some other team, everyone else seems to be selected at random, so I won’t bother with any conjecture, you can observe and draw conclusions for yourself.

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