#put him in strive so help me god

[catboycruncher]

you would not believe your eyes.

If ten million Robo ky’s

Lit up the world as I fall asleep

[phantomsaboteur]

staring so intensely at diasomnia tonight. trying to figure out how to write them when we're following rollo's perspective and not my own. fuck

[clownsnake]

I don’t think hyeonseong needed to remember dokja’s order to think about him if something goes wrong. I think he’s just always thinking abt dokja

and I love him for that

[phas3d]

Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE - 🐍 :: masterlist!

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!

[razberrypuck]

something about kinger being in the circus "the longest" and him still openly caring about the other members and striving to be kind to them makes me emotional actually.

like yes the scene where he comforts ragatha but also the "pomni, take this" scenes. putting a bucket on ragatha's head after jax's licorice-hair comment -- said in front of a monster that eats candy people. winning rock-paper-scissors and being so excited to get to help zooble. remarking "oh, thank GOD you're okay," when zooble gets ejected from the gloink queen. he can be a great source of comfort in his moments of lucidity, but even when he's not quite there, he really does try his best to protect his friends -- even if his efforts come across as goofy or nonsensical.

I find it especially interesting that these moments are really the only times he actively involves himself in the adventures. yes he makes a few comments here and there, but when he isn't trying to help someone, he tends to just let things happen around him. he's largely absent in most of episode one (mostly because he seems to be freaking out about his own safety -- and granted, we don't know whether or not he was just having an especially bad day, but I think it's worth noting) and he doesn't get involved with the adventure at all until he's told to find zooble. he's also shown to be very observant of the people around him, like how he accurately predicted that kaufmo had completely lost it, when no one else picked up on the signs.

more than anything, though, I think kinger's conversation with ragatha shows some of his philosophy when it comes to the other players. "it's a lot for anybody to go through; don't take it too personally," is likely a learned sentiment -- and consciously or not, I think he doesn't have any bad blood with the other members (see: kinger being the only one (from what we've seen so far) that jax doesn't actively torment) because he understands why they act the way they do and doesn't hold it against them. everyone copes differently, and like I said before, he's very observant, especially when it comes to the emotions of others.

and idk. I just think it's nice the longest standing member of the circus didn't survive this long by learning not to care.

[dev1lm4n]

lesson two: tease

ko-fi | series masterlist (5 out of 7)

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: tension is on the rise between you and mr. miller. wicked fantasies hadn't posted for an entire month! desperate, you decided to get even more bold with your requests and he had no difficulty in complying.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, blowjob, f masturbation, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: tension is literally on the rise! the vase is about to crack, but tonight he decides to indulge. fellas if you enjoyed this do COMMENT, REBLOG or buy me a KO-FI ;) love y'all

Broad shoulders.

During the time when you simply saw Mr. Miller as a figure in your lewd fantasies, you knew that it was the roughness of his build that attracted you. There’s a certain market for it; for women and men alike who enjoyed those who're built like burly vikings straight out of a movie. Those who enjoy men with a slight plumpness on their front, those who salivate over their strong and reliable arms, those who strive to caress their calloused fingers and press kisses onto their rigid knuckles. You’ve never confessed this to anyone - mostly terrified for their reserved judgment over the topic - but you fit perfectly in that box. Time after time, you wonder if it’d feel nice, if you could just press your nifty fingers into the coils of his muscles, if he’d let out a groan.. a moan perhaps from the sensation.

Rough fingers.

After spending two minutes staring intensely at his sturdy, slightly hunched build, you finally gathered enough courage to summon yourself into the kitchen. God, he looked so good just washing the dishes. His already calloused fingers didn’t have to worry about the damage those cheap dish soap does, because if anything, it’d just make it better. More ridges means more texture and more texture feels better. Two of his fingers entered the soapy lining of his mug, spreading the cleaning product into every crack and crevice. It looks a little erotic, you decided. Your filthy mind conjured up altered scenarios which implemented the same motion. You’d be on top of the cold countertop, various kitchen gadgets set aside as his fingers delved into your cunt. He’d spread your wetness the same way he did to the mug.

Thick mustache.

He took notice of your presence. He watched you and you allowed him, even if he did so wordlessly. Water continued to spill out of the faucet. It hit the empty bottom of the sink and sprouted upwards in a gauche manner, effectively wetting his gray shirt in blotches and dots. You breathed out what could pass as a dry chuckle and in return, he quirked his lips. A grin. A youthful one that almost made you forget of his crow’s feet and faint lines. His thin upper lip almost disappeared as it was tugged on both sides, but the dark hair on top remained pristine. It was thick, you concluded. Not as thick as Uncle Tommy’s, but thick enough that he’d get marinara sauce on it every pasta night. Thick enough that you wonder what it’d be like to have it graze your sensitive pelvis.

Fuck, he’s hot and you’re unreasonably horny.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he parroted back, only with the help of that damned nickname he’s stamped onto you.

Crunch

You bit into the red apple you found during your little scavenging trip into his refrigerator. The sound broke whatever trance he had placed you under. With those eyes of yours, pupils rounded and lashes batted, it was a dangerous game you’re playing. When had you gotten so shameless towards Mr. Miller? Perhaps it’s when he touched you in an irrevocably pleasurable way, or perhaps it’s when he hadn’t posted a video for an entire month. He missed his posting schedule, two whole weeks post-’Dirty Fridays’, and it’s severely messing with your head. You’ve always been a good viewer. Always being content with what he had put out and would never harass him for more, but it’s been a long month repeating the same 13 minute long video.

You’re bound to get restless.

“Didn’t see you come home yesterday.”

“I was busy.”

Crunch

With other girls? In that trailer studio of yours? The question sat on the tip of your tongue. A breath away from being exposed into the dense air. You turned to lean your lower back onto the edge of the countertop, eyes still trained on his as you hitched yourself atop the smooth surface. Your fingers grazed the squared edges, just to keep you occupied while you dug under the surface of his browns. You wondered what he was so busy with - wondered what’s going on behind the tightly knitted cloak of guise he wore, wondered what he thought of you after his little lesson. He wasn’t a shy one. Mr. Miller stared back into your pupils. His chest raised and lowered with every blink he took.

You swallowed nervously.

“Workin’ doubles,” he cracked. “I ain’t sharin’ the job with anyone other than Tommy.”

“Is that so?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

Crunch

You couldn’t read him. You’ve never been able to. There’s just a huge boulder sitting behind those irises, one that’s blocking you from understanding him even further. It’s not like it’s your business anyway. You’re content with spending your downtime with Sarah; screaming your hearts out to Taylor Swift’s I Knew You Were Trouble on the radio, painting each others’ nails, and making the ultimate pancake with chicken. You’re content with just watching him through his videos, reimagining those situations with the new knowledge you’ve acquired from him. You’re content with standing at a distance from him. So, it wouldn’t be logical to get all protective over him. What are you? His crazy ex-girlfriend?

“How’s Sarah?”

“Great,” you mumbled, mouth still half full. “Taught her fractions yesterday. Swear she’s getting smarter than me.”

“How’s Simon?”

Crunch

Things with Simon, surprisingly, went on smoothly. After that mediocre dinner, where you proceed to let Mr. Miller finger you afterwards in order to introduce you to the new world of sex, you’ve exchanged a few messages and a few perfectly appropriate photos. It’s been awhile since you actually put any effort into trying to get into a relationship, due to work loads and a special dependance towards a pornstar, but it’s much better than you expected. He’s a nice boy. He would treat you right if you gave him the chance to, but you couldn’t help but think that you’re doing all this out of spite. Doing this to show off how capable you are to Mr. Miller, to busy yourself off those plaguing thoughts of him.

“Simon’s doing okay. Fine. He took me for ice cream after my classes yesterday.”

“Offered you a ride, right?”

“Yup.”

He taught you well.

“You’ve done it with him then?”

Your heart clenched.

“Done what?”

“What I taught you.”

Why is he so candid about the entire ordeal?

It was like being held at gunpoint. You watched his eyes, then found it to be too oppressive so you looked down to meet his wet hands. He had finished washing all the plates and cutleries from the breakfast you and Sarah made, though his thick fingers still gripped onto the edge of the metal sink, wet and dripping. You looked up once again, trying to find a part of him that doesn’t make you all jittery and awkward.

“Yes.”

Your lie must’ve been undetectable since you quickly caught on to how his brows tangled and unraveled, a habit of his you’ve picked up recently, signaling that he’s processing the information and giving it a good thought.

“Was it as good?”

Crunch

You nodded surely with a mouthful of tangy apple. There’s no way you could get away with lying so blatantly the second time so you decide the nod would affirm your position better instead of scramble it. He cocked his head to the side, arrogant as always, with some sort of interest in his eyes. You could just tell something foul was about to come out of those sharp tongue of his, when all of a sudden, a clatter sounded out from beyond the window. Both of you turned your heads in sync, following after where the presumable source was. There he was. Tommy in all of his youthful glory. One of his jean legs drenched and beside him was a metal bucket, laying pitifully with its contents poured out onto the sidewalk. He was cursing. A garbled mess of English, while he soothed his pained arse.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He let out a sigh as he finally tore his gaze away from you to wipe his hands onto a kitchen rag.

“Gotta get goin’,” he whispered hurriedly, fingers running down his messy hair to smooth them down. “You need anything, sweetheart?”

You shook your head no and he took it as a cue to leave the premises. He rushed to pick up his phone from the dining room table, eyes fleeting to find his wallet right after.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.”

He turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You busy tonight?”

Dinner had always been a lonesome affair for you.

Back when you still live in your parents’ cluttered mishmash of a house, you’d always opt out of family dinner. Not because you weren’t particularly fond of your mother’s cooking, her one pot recipes will still remain nostalgic in your head despite time, but more because you’d rather not indulge in petty arguments. They’d always argue. Your mother would flash you that look of hers, silently demanding you to stay on her side when it comes to dealing with your father’s frequent misdemeanors. He’d complain about the tiniest bits of things. If the lettuce was too wilted or if you were wearing too much makeup. He’s an ass, sure, but it’s not like your mother’s planning to abandon him anytime soon. They’re conjoined at this point. Even when it’s massively unhealthy, especially for spectators like you.

In Mr. Miller’s home, oftentimes, you’d put together an edible meal for the entire family. Mr. Miller was a hard worker, according to the accounts that he made, so it’s not rare that you’d have to fry up sausages and whip mashed potatoes together for Sarah. It’s not as if he made it your responsibility. He’d encourage the two of you to order take outs or phone in the pizza place, but that couldn’t be good for Sarah’s growth or his own pocket. And as much as you’d like to deny it, you’re growing way too fond of the Millers.

But it’s been far too long since you crossed path with Mr. Miller. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten what his natural musk after a long day smelt like. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten how heavy his boots were as it dragged across the tiles. Far too long that you surely misses him.

You’re nervous.

Unreasonably so when the promise you’ve made with him was simply for dinner. Nothing less or more. Just dinner. Was the invitation you gave him.. too much? Was it too flirty? Was it silly to think that he might’ve entertained the little show you put out? The desperate stares and chewed lips, you’re undeniably begging for attention. Begging for him to pay attention to you, see what you’re made out of, doesn’t he want to unravel you more? The audacity you have was laughable.

How pathetic, you thought. 

Just like clockwork, Mr. Miller showed up right after your self-deprecating cycle. Right after all that flirty and playful energy got brutally murdered by common sense. Right after they were buried in a graveyard of mistakes and what was left was simply the putrid scent of shame. Your head perked up expectantly. As if the mere sight of him in his work uniform,  a combo of worn-out flannel shirts and dark-washed jeans, would cure you of exhaustion. Mr. Miller came barging into the hallway. His thumb and index finger diligently massaged the tall bridge of his nose, eyes closed and nose flared from breathing too hard. Your eyes finally made its rounds to where his free arm was propped up on his waist. Sleeves rolled to where it was physically impossible to roll them higher.

He didn’t look like he was in the best of moods.

And somehow.. somehow it excites you.

“Hi, how are you?” you spoke stiffly as if you’re one of those supermarket cashiers, posture straightening upon his arrival.

“Not good,” he replied gruffly.

Mr. Miller made his way to you. He appeared to be the same height and stature as he’s always been, but for whatever reason, he looked a lot larger. As if he could bite and tear you into chunks of flesh if he truly desired to. His movements were staggered. Each step seemed to be more and more of a hassle to him. He had this.. frown on his face. You could even call it a scowl. Forehead waved with folds of worries, lips tightened into an irritated pull as he finally settled down across from you. This new side to him made your limbs limp and your heart spasm. A squeeze each time his narrowed eyes met yours.

“Everything.. okay?” you mused out.

“Just a bunch of shit piling up,” he reasoned, looking down to meet the plate you carefully crafted for him. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head.”

The plate’s cold, boiled asparagus hardened and packaged chicken dried, but he didn’t even consider complaining. His brown eyes took in the effort you gave, a brief sheen of guilt glazing those pretty eyes of his before he picked up his fork and spoon. You watched him with care. His every move calculated and drilled deep into your head.

“Sarah asleep?”

“Mhm. I bored her to death with trigonometry,” you chuckled lightly. “She’s okay. Just.. she’s been asking for you. Asking me why you’re always home late.”

Joel’s eyes perked up from the plate. He met your eyes, but it almost felt like he’s looking right through you, over your head to where he could contemplate his decisions. You knew this just from looking, but Joel Miller had a fear of not being a good parental figure. Sarah only had one and he’s barely ever home. That sort of thought festered over him and took over any sort of inhibition. Any sort of clear thinking, that he’s doing all these side jobs to help support her further in life, that it was all for her. Mr. Miller beats himself up too much, but it’s not like you had any right to intervene. You watched as he indulged in the asparagus, seeing how it’s grown cold enough to feel like metal rods when bitten into. He chewed on it with a solemn expression, a curl between his brows.

“Sorry for putting you through this, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I could.. should actually hire help.”

You waited a beat.

“You’ve been doing me too much favor. It’s not.. right.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why?”

“Always happy to help.”

“But-”

“It’ll cost you too much for help. You’d be sleeping at your job if that happens.”

He could easily earn up to thousands if he gave into the temptations and started working for a mainstream adult film company. One that’s easily recognized from its corny storylines and cringy high-pitched over-the-top moans. Mr. Miller would be a hit, you’re sure of that. Mainstream porn only requires two things when it comes to male actors: a pretty reasonably-sized cock and charisma. Both in which he had under his belt. If he weren’t so particular with the actresses he chose, the angles in which he filmed, and the routine in which he performed in, perhaps he wouldn’t have to beat himself up to skin and bones. You leaned your cheeks onto the palm of your hands as you watched him devour his dinner.

“I need a favor.”

His fork paused.

“But you- well, you’ll laugh.”

He looked up. The crinkles beside his eyes seemed a lot more prominent, as if he’s thoroughly entertained by your youthful silliness.

“What is it? Somethin’ for Simon is it?”

He’s spot on and it’s making you shrink.

“What?” he chuckled gruffly. “You gonna ask me to teach ya how to blow a guy? Oh.. or how to hang him up in ribbons?”

You looked away, awkwardly scratching your elbow.

“Fuck. I’m spot on, am I? Didn’t take you for a kinky gal.”

“No! God, no,” you looked at him, horrified. “Not the latter.”

“The former then?”

“The former.”

The former. You couldn’t bear to wait for his delayed answer. It’s shameless for you to be asking a second time, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re pent-up, desperate, and he’s your porn star crush forfuckssake. You stood up from where you’re seated. Your gaze was averted completely, to the point where it’s tilted at an uncomfortable angle to shuffle away from his attention. It’s better to sleep it off. Then maybe you’d act like all this didn’t happen the next day. Sarah’s going to be around for breakfast, so he’d surely keep his mouth in check and draw his way out of this. Wouldn’t he.. would he-

“Hey, hey slow down.”

You felt a hand stop you. His grip was tight, possibly bruising if you were to retaliate any other way. It was still hard to meet his eyes, especially when you had to make the special effort to tilt your head up in order to meet his searing gaze. You waited instead, letting him hinder you of any movements as you stared intensely into his flannel-cladded chest. What was he going to say? Is he going to call you up for your perverseness? Was he-

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it.”

His voice clambered in the chambers of your heart. Masculine, thick with an inch of Southern bass, he took hold of your other hand with those thick fingers of his. This was different from your first lesson. He looked much more.. impatient. A bit of a rough edge when it comes to handling you, a pretty little thing that’s too brave and forward for your own good. His scent, fragments of wood and a taste of clean laundry, permeated the thick air around you. You inhaled him. All of him for the first time in a very very long week. He released the steel grip he had around your wrists and traced it over the rough outline of your body. Up, up, up, until he reached the span of your shoulder. Your breath hitched. All you could feel in your heart was a repeating desire for himhimhim.

He pushed you down slowly, guiding you to lower yourself before him. Right until your knees hit the freezing linoleum tiles beneath his feet. What were you doing? Is it the right decision to fall back into the same old mistake?

“Have you ever practiced on anything before?” he chuckled, almost demeaning in a sense. “A banana or a hairbrush perhaps?”

You shook your head no. All you could see was his dirty jeans, stained of dry concrete and paint.

He brought his rough fingers down to graze against your chin, tilting it upwards so that you’d face him. His eyes were dark, hooded, and trying its best to conceal its obvious amusement. Your chest heaved up and down. Nervous of what he’s about to do next.

“Let’s practice first, ‘kay, sweetheart?” he muttered.

Mr. Miller brought his other pair of fingers next to your face, cradling it with such reverence. He swiped your lips. Bottom then top, only to delve inside your mouth to wet it with enough lubricant. He’s initiating it. His little routine. The older man brought two of his fingers, his index and middle, before he inserted it slowly into your wet cavity. Slowly. Achingly slow. He made sure that you’re comfortable with just a knuckle deep before he proceeded to push in further until the tips sat at the very beginning of your tongue. It wasn’t a familiar feeling like rubbing your clit. You struggle not to gag, or to whimper at the sheer lewdness of the scene unfolding.

“Ah, what a smart girl,” he mused. “Lay your tongue flat for me.”

Your clammy palms fell helplessly atop your smooth pajama pants, gripping on the cotton everytime it felt like too much. His thick fingers separated to make the girth much larger, preparing you for what’s to come. It’s almost as if you could taste him. Taste the natural scent Mr. Miller has around him at all times, taste the carnal desire he held for this. You knew he wouldn’t openly admit it, but this time, it truly looked like he’s looking forward to ripping your innocence away. All his feigned affection stretched thin as you obeyed him perfectly. Tongue flat on the base of your mouth, you breathed in through your nose as best as you can.

“That boy wouldn’t like it if you’re sharp with your teeth,” he muttered as he pulled his fingers away. A string of saliva connected the tip of his wet fingers to your slacked jaw. Oh, how vulgar. Your tight entrance twitched and throbbed inside your panties. Arousal started to wet the thin material, painting dark circles that contrast with the bright color. You were heaving, panting from the sudden increase of oxygen. “So no teeth, keep your tongue flat, and breathe through your nose.”

“You got that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“Alright. Would you like me to take my pants off or do you wanna try it yourself?”

You looked up at the tempting prospect. He gave you a little nod, affirming that you indeed had the upper hand to the situation. And just like that your hands were quick to get on the perimeter of his belt. You loosened the leather from its metal confines, slowly pulling it away from the hook before leaving it. The leather hung from where his two front loops were located. Meekly, you looked up once more as your soft fingers felt his buttons up. He hissed through his pursed lips, a good reaction you assume, as you slowly unbuttoned the main button. You were confident enough now to tug away at his zippers. Step one was completed, you’ve successfully opened him up like a Christmas present.

But.. what’s next?

“What do I do next?”

“What do you think you do?”

You reached out for the waistband of his briefs, but you were quickly met with a little slap on the back of your hand. Not a hurtful one. Just a little reminder.

“It’s best if you get him worked up first so he’s fully hard when you’re ready,” he whispered. “Why don’t you press some gentle kisses on it?”

You hummed in agreement, before you did as you’re told. Even with the dim lighting of the dining room, you could see clearly where the outline of his cock is. It’s semi-erected, you deduced. You’ve seen him in all his glory to the point where you could calculate how much more he could grow. Gently, you closed the gap between you and those pair of briefs he’s wearing. Your mouth was hot and warm in contrast to the cold air, so when you finally pressed a kiss on top of his clothed shaft, his cock twitched immediately. You could feel it and see it too in certain lighting. Encouraged, you press even more kisses on each and every spot, slowly building up the desire until you reach the leaking tip. You nuzzled your nose close. It smelled like him, salty with a tinge of masculine musk.

This turned you on so much that you inevitably grinded your bottom towards the cold tile. Nothing was there to satiate your throbbing core, just a short term burst of pleasure.

“Shit, sweetie,” he hissed. “I think you’re ready.”

With haste, you quickly tugged on his waistband. You didn’t expect for his length to pop out that quickly, the startled reaction you had was proof of that. He looked.. pretty. Blushed beige with a ruddy tip that's covered. It’s a little silly that that’s the first thing that came to your mind, but it’s the truth. You’d never guess that you could get this up close. Eye level to the cock you’ve been fantasizing about, where you could practically see each and every one of his veins. You didn’t say one word. Instead, you settled on observing the new interest. Your one finger went up curiously to touch the white substance that’s pooling up top. Sticky, you thought. Out of curiosity, you stuck the lone finger down your throat. Salty was the next thought in line.

“Didn’t expect you to taste it,” he chuckled.

You simmered in the sudden embarrassment.

“What’s next? Should I just put it in my mouth?”

“You could.”

“There’s another way?” you peered up curiously.

“Well,” he hummed. You watched as his finger pried your lips open once more, urging you to stick out your wet tongue. “You could make a show out of it. Look me in the eye and lick me slowly.”

You quirked your eyebrows as if unsure if this will work. You’ve never taken yourself as a ‘sexy’ person. Will this even work? To get rid of those plaguing thoughts, you decided to take a leap of faith. You stuck your tongue out more and slowwwwly dragged it along his salty length. You made sure to keep your eyes on his, watching his every micro reaction to decide which one pleased him more. This is supposed to be about Simon! Why are you.. seeking for his validation? On instinct, you pulled the hooded skin back to reveal his furiously red tip. You laughed nervously before you experimentally sucked on it. The wet warmth instantly had him buck up into you, a strained groan following suit. 

“Oh shit,” he cursed. “You’re doing good.”

Getting confident, you decided to suckle on it a little more. It tasted a lot more intense than what you’ve tasted of him, but it wasn’t bad at all.

“You think you could take more, sweetheart?”

You nodded before letting his length infiltrate your mouth even more. The end touched the back of your throat ambitiously before you had to pull back and set yourself onto his sensitive tip once more. It wasn’t as easy as his co-stars are making it seem. There was a rhythm in which you have to master, a balance of push and pull so that you don’t gag at the intrusion. His soft groans were heavenly. You didn’t get to hear much of it the first time around, but now it’s all you could think of. You can’t take it anymore! You just had to touch yourself.

“Shit, you’re a dirty gal, are ya?” he chuckled. “Had to touch yourself to this?”

You cried out a muffled moan. It was all too familiar. The way in which you slipped your hand into your pants, shuffling between the layers of panties to rub at your clit. You were already drenched with need. Strings of arousal webbed between your fingers as you rubbed figure eights all across the sensitive patch of nerves. You’re losing track of the rhythm and Mr. Miller took notice of that. He was kind enough to lead you. His fingers slotted perfectly behind the crown of your head, guiding you in a pace you could tolerate.

“Perfect mouth for little Simon,” he degraded.

Mr. Miller’s large hands continued to move you at a certain pace. The time slot left for you to gather your breath tightened and it’s almost like you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. But it felt too good. He tasted too nice. You’ve got his cock in your mouth and it’s spurting out tangy liquid goodness onto your tongue, what else can you ask for? 

You continued to grind onto the palm of your hand, desperate enough to not think of how shameless you looked. So slick, your fingers let out a lewd pop everytime it dipped inside of you. Usually you weren’t fond of vaginal penetration by yourself, but the thought of having his cock inside of you left you rabid. This was supposed to be about Simon, is it not?

“You wanna know what a real man tastes like?” he mused out lazily.

You nodded desperately. Mr. Miller held your head tight against his pelvis. Your nose grazed against the coarse dark curls he had as he twitched inside of you. You continued to slick the pads of your fingers against yourself. An entire week of masturbation being combined into one as you felt that familiar pressure build in your stomach. A coil waiting to be snapped.

“Sh- shit.”

Mr. Miller broke first. He hunched slightly as he rode his orgasm out. You could see how his legs trembled and his hips bucked himself even further down your throat. 

There it was. The salty trace you tried earlier came in big spurts down your throat, only when you couldn’t fit more did it start seeping out your mouth. It dribbled down the gaps between his softened cock and your aching mouth, stripes of white just trickling down vulgarly. You moaned into his cock, wetting the flimsy material of your panties. A combination of the scent his cock gave to the familiar rubs to your clit had you seeing stars. You knew for a fact that the linoleum tiles would be soaked with your juices when you come up to your feets. 

This isn’t a problem anymore, it’s a catastrophe.

[one-flower-one-sword]

"You came from a renowned school, an orthodox sect that never traversed the deviant path. Growing up in that sect, you were always told that ascending was the ultimate thing to strive for," Jun Wu continued. "It is very difficult to give up that sort of goal. Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act born of helplessness. Of course you cannot say you are satisfied with your position in the Ghost Realm. It was never what you wanted in the first place."

Yin Yu didn't have enough confidence to deny it. He said weakly, "Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me -"

"I know," Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit after he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

"...Yes," Yin Yu confirmed. "So whether or not I am satisfied with my current position, it's all -"

"That is dissatisfaction," Jun Wu noted. "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go. You are in denial." Yin Yu hung his head and didn't reply.

Vol 7, page 144-145

One of my favorite relationships throughout the novel, even though we get so little information about it, is Yin Yu and Hua Cheng's. Even the above tidbit is mired by the way Jun Wu is trying to manipulate Yin Yu's emotions and how Yin Yu at times responds genuinely and at others plays along to try and find a way to escape.

Once I had finished the novel, I was left wondering why there are so many fandom jokes about Yin Yu being exploited by Hua Cheng when the text seemed to paint a much different picture of what Yin Yu's life and work environment as a god was like versus as the highest ranking ghost city officer. So in this meta I try to examine and compare the two as well as try to draw conclusions about how Yin Yu felt about it all and why.

First of, I think that Yin Yu's longing to return to becoming a god is genuine, since this is what he says after he stops playing along with Jun Wu's manipulation because he's by then gotten enough spiritual energy to attack him:

"I do want to return to the heavens, I do want to be ranked in the top ten!" Yin Yu continued. "But it's completely meaningless if I don't do it on my own! I'm unlucky, I accept that! Admitting that I can't compare isn't that hard!" Vol 7 page 152

Which is interesting, considering this is what he felt like when he was still a god in heaven while Quan Yizhen hadn't yet ascended:

A good while later, [Quan Yizhen] said bluntly, "I don't like it here."

Yin Yu said nothing.

"They think I'm annoying, but I think they're even more annoying," Quan Yizhen continued. "Before, I could train at least sixteen hours a day. Now half the time is taken up by talking and listening to nonsense, by greeting and visiting people. There are people who yell at me and hit me for no good reason, without apologizing, and I can't even fight back. This isn't heaven. I don't like it here."

Yin Yu sighed. "I don't like it here either."

"Then let's go back," Quan Yizhen said.

But Yin Yu only shook his head, "Even though I don't like it here, I want to stay."

Quan Yizhen couldn't understand. "Why do want to stay if you don't like it here?"

Yin Yu was stumped, and chuckled in spite of himself. He didn't know what to say, unable to explain it to him. How could he convey to Quan Yizhen that reaching the Heavenly Capital was the dream of so many people who sought the path of cultivation, the ultimate end goal? Or just how difficult it was for someone his age to achieve ascension?

Vol 5, page 271-272

Yin Yu essentially seemed to be struggling with sunk cost fallacy, where he put his everything into ascending to heaven and so wants to stay there even though it's making him increasingly unhappy. It's interesting that Jun Wu accuses him of being in denial about his unhappiness in the Ghost Realm, when Yin Yu in the past seemed to be in denial about his unhappiness in heaven. Especially since this is what he was being treated like as soon as his power and influence were in decline:

Yin Yu and Jian Yu were seated next to the "Earth Master." Their assigned seats were considered the edge of the banquet. Yin Yu wasn't eating or talking to anyone. [...]

At the other end of the banquet, there was already a large crowd of heavenly officials fighting to greet Quan Yizhen. The surrounding crowd had completely blocked the person at the center from sight. It appeared that this was soon after Quan Yizhen ascended and established his own palace. He was at the height of his popularity in heaven, in contrast to how he was disliked by most of the present court. Although the two were both Martial Gods of the West, he was significantly more prominent than Yin Yu. The attendees all swarmed over, leaving the table where Yin Yu sat quiet and empty.

Vol 5, page 273-275

I've talked about this in my Yin Yu & Quan Yizhen meta as well, how Yin Yu tries to get by in heaven by conforming and submitting to the elitist power structures it's based on:

Quan Yizhen kept going. "They cussed at me first. I don't even know them. They said I was a low-ranking heavenly official and yelled at me for no reason, then they laughed at me and told me to scram and not to block their way [...]" "Are low-ranking heavenly officials below other people?" Quan Yizhen asked.

"No," Yin Yu replied. Was that true? It was obvious he didn't believe his own words, and Quan Yizhen noticed.

Vol 5, page 271

and how it starts to chip away at the kindness and the moral backbone he showed while still in his sect:

"Shidi, the things you're all saying aren't right." The crowd was taken aback. "I'm going to say something unpleasant," Yin Yu continued. "No matter what path we cultivate, talent truly is an incredible thing. And he is not only talented, he is willing to work hard. If you really think Shifu is playing favorites, then let's work harder to keep up with him - maybe even overtake him. And then things like training halls and supplements will naturally be open to everyone. Rather than wasting time being angry at him, your priority should be training harder. Am I right?" [...]

"You really don't need to mind them. You didn't do anything wrong. It's fine like this." Anyone with clear eyes could see that the other disciples couldn't stand Quan Yizhen. They found fault everywhere, and it wasn't because of his big appetite, or because he wasn't a morning person, or because he was inconsiderate and a poor teammate who only cared about showing off. At the end of the day, what they really couldn't stand was this: he was the last to enter the school, but he received the most. Quan Yizhen nodded. "I think so too." Yin Yu patted his shoulder. "Go train! That's what's most important. Don't think about anything unnecessary." [...]

After watching the two scenarios, Xie Lian praised Yin Yu. "San Lang, that subordinate of yours really is a rare character. What a good heart."

Vol 5, page 262 + 264

Everything Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen already struggled with in their sect - the jealousy, the bullying, the competition for resources - is even worse in heaven, which actively encourages the endless competition for devotees and subordinates as well as the exploitation and mistreatment of those of "lower rank". No matter how hard Yin Yu tries to conform to these structures, they steadily wear away at both the way others see him and also how he sees himself:

After closing the gates, Yin Yu's voice grew louder. "Don't say any more! I don't want to hear it! It's very normal for an ascended heavenly official to establish a palace, so he didn't do anything wrong. Since you get irritated just talking about him, why must you constantly bring him up?" "Please don't think that I'm speaking out of turn, but someone must remind you. Yin Yu, the west is only so big, and there are only so many devotees. He's already taken so much. That wolf yao kill should've been yours, but he stole it! Look at the state of you now - your domain's shrinking smaller and smaller. How much do you have left? Can you maintain your standing if this keeps up?" "How is what he's done theft? It's not like he's forcing anyone to worship him at knifepoint - everyone's willing. Besides, that wolf yao..." Yin Yu sighed and said frankly, "I couldn't have defeated it. It was useless praying to me, so of course they went to him." "I just... I'm worried that if this fight continues, he'll win and leave us with nothing," Jian Yu said bitterly. "Fuck, even those lower-ranking officials only care about their own advancement - each one of them coming up with empty excuses to quit and slipping away to serve under other heavenly officials. What a bunch of no-good asshats!" Yin Yu sighed again and sat down on a prayer cushion. "What fight are you talking about...? Why care for such things? Those who want to leave will always leave in the end, and those who want to stay will naturally remain. I didn't ascend to fight for power with anyone, nor squabble over domains, nor quarrel, so why can't you let this go?" Vol 5, page 277

This is a stark contrast not only to the kind of standing he had while he was still in his sect:

Yin Yu pushed them away, urging them to leave. He sighed. "You said yourself that he's insane, so why bother with him?" It was easy to see that Yin Yu's words held weight with his peers at this point in his life. Although the crowd was still upset, they left as told. Vol 5, page 257

But especially to the kind of authority and respect that his position in Ghost City offers him:

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the ghost crowd. They immediately parted, forming a path, as if someone of importance had arrived. Xie Lian came to his senses and saw a tall, black-clad figure walking straight toward him through the path created by the mob. That person yelled, "Settle down. Let him go!" The black-clad figure, like most of the ghosts on the street, wore a mask. It was a funny mask, with a face that was contorted as if it was smiling woefully. The mob muttered under their breath, "It's the Waning Moon Officer!", and they released their hold on Xie Lian at last. It seemed this black-clad figure was someone significant in Ghost City. Vol 2, page 99

It's also worth mentioning at this point that I think people forget that Yin Yu does not always necessarily work alone and has to do everything by himself but that he has his own subordinates:

After taking a moment to contact his subordinates in Ghost City, Yin Yu meticulously reported the general directions of each sighting.

Vol 7, page 48

Another very important thing to take away from the argument between Jian Yu and Yin Yu is that while still a god in the heavens, Yin Yu had no confidence that he'd be able to fight a wolf yao, yet in the amnesiac extra, he shows no signs of hesitancy or fear when Hua Cheng orders him to go after the monster that stole Xie Lian's memories:

He was still trying to process what he'd learned when he heard San Lang say, "I need to attend to him right now and can't leave. Catch that monster before tomorrow night and bring it to me." "Yes, sir. Shall I leave it one last breath?" the man in the ghost mask asked quietly. San Lang put down his brush and glanced at what he'd written, which he then crumbled up and tossed away, apparently unsatisfied. "Leave it a few. Make it spit out what it swallowed, then crush its worthless head to dust. Make it slow and painful." His tone and expression were both quite frightening, yet Xie Lian didn't find him repulsive or alarming. The man in the ghost mask acknowledged San Lang’s order and was about to take his leave, so Xie Lian quickly dodged away and hid. Vol 8, page 226-227

Which leads me to another important point - the amount of trust Hua Cheng shows Yin Yu by the kind of missions he sends him on. If he didn't have a high opinion of Yin Yu's abilities, he would never send him after something like a monster that had eaten Xie Lian's memories, given how incredibly important Xie Lian's wellbeing is to Hua Cheng. There's many other examples too - like how Hua Cheng trusted Yin Yu to help with tricking Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian into saving "Ming Yi", or how he entrusted the Earth Master Shovel to him. But Hua Cheng also does not ask the impossible of him - when they're all trapped in heaven and Yin Yu started to dig tunnels with the Earth Master Shovel to try and free Xie Lian and the others so they could recover and become strong enough to escape, Hua Cheng cautions them against it because he correctly deduces that "you'll be seeking your own deaths if you try to break out under Jun Wu's watch." (Vol 7, page 130) Even though Yin Yu is with Xie Lian, Hua Cheng doesn't expect him to get Xie Lian out on his own, because he knows how powerful and ruthless Jun Wu is.

For extra emphasis, let's compare Hua Cheng’s regard for Yin Yu and his abilities to the way Jun Wu never even deemed to speak to Yin Yu while he was a god because he was so very much "beneath" him:

"My dear Yin Yu, I do not think I have ever chatted with you like this before. Isn't that right?"

"I guess not..." Yin Yu replied cautiously.

Even back when he was the martial god who ruled the west, his base of believers wasn't strong, his merits were few, and his rank wasn't impressive. He wasn't the lowest ranked of the heavenly officials in the Upper Court, but he was still below average, so he'd had almost no opportunities to interact with the Heavenly Emperor - the highest of the high.

Vol 7, page 142-143

Keeping all of that in mind, it's very interesting that Jun Wu tries to tempt Yin Yu to his side by offering him the position of his right-hand man:

Finally, Yin Yu asked, "In the Upper Court, I... What... would my position be?"

"Ling Wen will be my left hand, and you shall be my right," Jun Wu said. "There will be none above you besides me."

Vol 7, page 149

When that really is a position Yin Yu already holds - he's Hua Cheng's right-hand man. Now, one could argue that Yin Yu does have less power and prestige in the position of a ghost realm officer than he would have as a god - there's no believers worshipping him - but I think the point is that he doesn't answer to anyone but Hua Cheng, that there's no one else competing with him for that position, no one else among his subordinates that Hua Cheng puts this much trust in, and that there's no one else besides Hua Cheng himself who is demonstrated to hold so much authority and respect in Ghost City. And with all of the above, it's really important to keep in mind that Ghost City is the one single autonomous place in all the three realms and that its Chengzhu is the one single being whose power and influence is rivaled only by the Heavenly Emperor himself.

And said Heavenly Emperor damn well knows Yin Yu is Hua Cheng's right-hand man, which is I believe a big part of the reason he tries to flip Yin Yu by dangling this exact position in front of him. As I've talked about before in other posts, Jun Wu hates Hua Cheng deeply for various reasons. There's the whole thing where Hua Cheng is the unmistakable proof of a believer that never leaves their god, the very thing Jun Wu felt entitled to but didn't receive. But in this case I think him wanting to tempt Yin Yu away from Hua Cheng's side is about how bitter and salty Jun Wu feels about the fact that Hua Cheng holds more sway over all three realms than he does - evidenced by the way Hua Cheng doesn't just have followers in the Ghost Realm but the Human Realm as well, and even the gods, while they fear him, also can't help but admire him and strike deals with him in secret (Vol 1, page 157-160). That Yin Yu, a banished god, would (just like Xie Lian) rather be loyal to Hua Cheng than Jun Wu - that must have angered him a lot because it's something he'd take quite personally.

This is, I think, also the root of why Yin Yu has so much trouble seeing his position in the Ghost Realm for what it really is and why he still longs to be a god despite how unhappy he was in the heavens and how badly he was treated there - he can't see past the prejudices about the Ghost Realm in general and Ghost City in particular that he has internalized. Prejudices that Jun Wu actively weaponizes every time he speaks to Yin Yu, by repeatedly insinuating that being a ghost city officer is a shameful thing to be:

"Surely you do not actually like being a mere pawn in the Ghost Realm?" [...] "Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act borne of helplessness." [...] "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go." [...]

Vol 7, page 144

Which makes it all the more satisfying when Yin Yu tricks Jun Wu (or attempts to, at least) and ultimately rejects both his offer and his authority, and also calls Jun Wu out on the way he tried to manipulate him:

"My Lord... My... No, not My Lord! You! Why must you keep reminding me of that?! Why do you speak like you actually understand me?!"

Vol 7, page 151

Jun Wu is deeply enraged by his defiance and rejection - in general, but also because it reminds him of Xie Lian's defiance against him:

Jun Wu turned around with a casual sweep of his hand. "Exhilarating. You and Xianle must get along well."

Vol 7, page 152

This brings me to my final point - which is that choosing kindness and righteousness even in the face of criticism and rejection, of personal loss and suffering, is what Jun Wu hates the most, and what ties Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, and Yin Yu and Hua Cheng together. Hua Cheng was drawn to Xie Lian because Xie Lian chose to treat him kindly when everyone else abused and rejected Hua Cheng and pressured Xie Lian to do the same. Similiar things can be said for Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, since Yin Yu was the one to ask his sect's shifu to take Quan Yizhen in when he came across him as a seemingly abandoned child, and who repeatedly defended Quan Yizhen from the other sect members' judgement and bullying, even though this earned Yin Yu their ire as well. Yin Yu, too, values kindness very highly:

Yin Yu sobbed. "If I wasn't destined to be perfect, I at least wanted to be perfectly kind. But... I couldn't even manage that." (Vol 7, page 156)

Therefore, though we get very little information on their first meeting, I think kindness is also what drew Yin Yu to Hua Cheng, what made him stay loyal to him even when tempted/threatened by Jun Wu, and what made him go right back to working for him after the events of the main story. Because while we get only this one mention, I think a great deal can be gleaned from it:

"Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me - "

"I know" Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit when he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

Vol 7, page 144

It's not just he helped me, it's he saved me. And not only that, Hua Cheng, in a sense, saved Jian Yu as well by helping him move on, which I would assume was simply because Yin Yu wished for his friend to let go of his resentment and not become stuck as a vengeful spirit. What I think is really important to keep in mind here is that not only was Hua Cheng under no obligation to save Yin Yu, he had, objectively speaking, nothing to gain from it. He Xuan was already in the heavens by then and giving Hua Cheng intel. and Hua Cheng didn't show off that he had a banished god working for him either - he let Yin Yi wear a mask, and for years, no one (except apparently Jun Wu) knew where Yin Yu was or what had happened to him, evidenced by the way Quan Yizhen kept looking and kept asking about him to no avail (Vol 5 page 235).

We don't really get Hua Cheng's side of the story but I think the fact that he doesn't speak about it speaks for itself - aside from keeping things close to his chest in general, he tends to not talk about the things he does out of kindness and/or his own sense of justice. We see this for example when Xie Lian only finds out why the group of cultivators is after Hua Cheng when he overhears them saying that Hua Cheng chose to shelter both the pig spirit and the prostitute ghost who had chosen to take revenge on humans who had used their positions of power to hurt others (Vol 5 page 28-29).

This is therefore more speculation than analysis, but I can imagine that this whole scenario - a god with a good heart who gets abandoned by the heavens with only a vengeful spirit by his side - even though the exact circumstances that led to it differed, might have held enough similarities to what Hua Cheng personally witnessed of Xie Lian's banishment that it would bring out that same urge to help and protect in Hua Cheng. The fact that Yin Yu says Hua Cheng saved him really can't be overstated in my opinion, considering that Hua Cheng, understandably, has usually nothing but feelings of either indifference or hatred for all of the gods aside from Xie Lian and the Rain Master.

To sum up - the power structures in heaven encourage workplace harassment, bullying, and endless competition for resources and support, and this causes Yin Yu not only increased stress, isolation, and unhappiness, but also puts a strain on his inherent kindness and righteousness as he starts to give in under the pressure to conform. By contrast, his position in Ghost City is dependant on nothing but his loyalty to Hua Cheng, on Yin Yu's own choice to stay with him, and offers him an unprecedented amount of respect and trust. It is heaven, really, that is repeatedly shown to mistreat and exploit its officials, especially those of lower rank, not Hua Cheng.

[vampcubus]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : the sub rengoku thirst i was talkin' about. just wanna fuck him stupid and watch him struggle to keep up, ya feel me? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!kyojuro rengoku, fem!dom!reader, kyojuro’s raging breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight choking kink. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 1k+

Moonlight filters into the room from the window, illuminating Kyojuro’s body in a silvery light. 

Kyojuro is hardly coherent by now, reduced to a dumb drooling puppy as your ass slaps against his thighs again and again, gummy walls squeezing him so snug it’s like you’re trying to milk him of every drop of cum. He’s eager to give it to you, fiery eyes all half-lidded and glossy, transfixed on your pretty pussy swallowing his cock. It’s maddening; how tight, hot, and perfect you feel wrapped around him.

“You’re stretching me out so much, Kyo. I love the way your cock feels inside me,” you praise, and his blond lashes flutter, head tipping further back.

“It’s yours — all yours, my love. ahh, it belongs to you. I belong to you.” He babbles nonsensically, hips finally starting to buck up into your vigorous bounces. “Use me for your pleasure.”

You can’t help but moan at that, twitching around him. Ultimately Kyojuro strives to please you, his pleasure is a byproduct of that desire. You can see it in the worship that gleams in those bright eyes, fixated on where your bodies meet.

“Want me to use you, huh?” you pant, rolling your hips in a circle. “Want me to ride you till I cum all over your fat cock?”

Kyojuro moans at that and his hips jut upwards into you with surprising force. 

“Yes, please,” he laughs breathlessly, and a grin tugs at your mouth corners though you try to fight it. His fucked-dumb smile is too infectious.

Even smiling, Kyojuro looks beautifully pathetic underneath you, hands grabbing uselessly at your hips. He’s holding rather than guiding, conscious not to disrupt your pace.

You peel one of his hands from your hip and guide his thumb to your clit, moaning delightedly when he swirls the rough pad over it in time with your thrusts. Your pussy squeezes around him and again his hips jolt, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. Your mouth falls open, hands bracing on his shoulders as you slam yourself up and down his cock with more vigor. 

Kyojuro starts making these urgent cries, his dick pulsing with need within you.

His thumb slurs over your clit for but a moment before he’s sobbing, “Please, may I cum with you?”

He might actually burst into tears if you refused him, balls full and heavy with a backlog of cum from being denied orgasm endlessly. Even in your delirious state, you find it in your heart to be merciful, eyes soft and adoring as you brush a few sweat-slicked strands of golden hair from his sticky forehead.

“Fill me up lots, Kyo,” you purr.

“Oh, gods-” His eyes roll back into his head at the mere implication, body screaming for release. “I will, I will!”

“Put a baby in me,” you whisper, and the strangled noise he makes in response is hardly human.

Yes, he’ll do that. He wants to make you a mommy, fill you to the brim with seed til you can’t hold anymore, see you swell with child – his child, he muses possessively. breed you, he wants to breed you.

He’s wound so tight, so close to snapping in two. Your soft fingers trace soothing shapes across his cheeks as your greedy cunt swallows him whole, your honeyed praises and the soft look on your face a stark contrast to how you devour him, take what you need from him without mercy. Something inside him aches, not out of longing but of love for you. He loves you to the point of pain, to madness.

“C-cumming, I’m-” 

He’s so loud when he finally cums, ropes and ropes spurting out of him in a warm stream, filling you entirely. The feeling makes you erupt with shivers, eyes half-lidded and watching intensely as he writhes and bucks, emptying his balls into you. His end inspires you to chase your own, a necklace of fingers encircling his throat as you fuck yourself on his cock with more enthusiasm. 

A white ring forms at the base of his cock as his cum starts to leak out, some sticking to your thighs as you move. His mewling is reduced to pathetic croaks as his head gets fuzzier and fuzzier, and he pinches his eyes shut at the overstimulation.

He feels you flutter around him and forces his eyes back open to watch you fall apart, going slack-jawed when finally you gush around him, hand tightening around his neck as you shake and moan. Your bouncing slows to a grind, fingers loosening around his throat, to which he gasps for air, but it’s stolen from him once again as he’s thrown violently into a second orgasm, back arching off the futon to meet you. 

It’s more intense this time, ravaging through him like nothing he’s ever felt before. It has to be your fault, you have to know what you do to him.

Kyojuro doesn’t realize he’s passed out until he comes to, blinking rapidly at your creased brows as you hover above him worriedly.

“There you are. Was too busy cumming my brains out to notice you fainted! You ok, baby?” you asked sheepishly, and Kyojuro can’t help but be entertained at the change in demeanor. His hand takes yours, fingers filling the empty spaces between your own and squeezing affectionately.

“More than ok, my love. You were wonderful as always — ah, careful w-we’re still…” he flinches when you shift in his lap, still stuffed full of his cock.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” you giggle, that patronizing lilt returning to your voice. Kyojuro’s mouth goes dry, his cock twitching back to life within you. “You told me to use you, and I’m not finished using you yet.”

“Oh, then my apologies!” he chuckles heartily, it’s full of mirth… and a bit of righteous fear. “Feel free to-”

A pitiful sound leaves him as you start up again, your mixed fluids making it slippery and much too easy to return to a brutal pace. His honey-colored eyes gloss over, tongue falling out his mouth in a way that makes your loins throb.

You’ll be the death of me, he thinks. Though as he drools, begs, and fills you to the brim until he’s cumming dry, he concedes that a little death wouldn’t hurt.

[cath-lic]

Hello, I was wondering if you believe non-Christians can be saved? I know many Catholics believe everyone that doesn't accept Jesus will go to hell. Personally, I find this outlook very sad and I was curious on other points of view so please anyone respond with their own opinions. I mean to ask you this: If God is love and is forgiving of our sins, why would he send everyone to hell simply because they could not find their way to him?

hi!! YES absolutely everyone is saved!! now, everyone and their brother has a conflicting opinion on this, but i’ll throw in my two cents.

my first, more concrete point: john 3:16. the everyman’s verse!!

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

okay, but what if someone doesn’t believeth? vatican ii’s lumen gentium, no. 16, also covers this. (italics added by me)

Those also can attain to everlasting salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and, moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does divine Providence deny the help necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God, but who strive to live a good life, thanks to his grace.

however, it’s important to note LG no. 14. bear with me here.

Whosoever knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by God through Jesus Christ would refuse to enter her or to remain in her could not be saved.

i’m not a theologian, i’m just joe off the street—so i may be taking things out of context. forgive me!

however—as much as i am catholic, i believe that this is putting WAY too much importance on the catholic church as we know it today. it is far, far different than the original organization founded upon the rock of st. peter, and i believe that there are many things that god takes issue with in the catholic church (notoriously, jesus criticized large institutions like these). therefore, i don’t know how much i believe that the catholic church today, nor as a whole, was made necessary by god through christ.

my second point: my most fervent belief is that god is love. pretty much all of my friends are atheists, and they are kind and caring and loving people. it is, therefore, impossible for me to believe that they are not saved.

my second-and-a-half point: i take a little bit of issue with your phrasing of “send” to hell.

personally, i believe that hell is not necessarily Dante’s inferno, but a place of complete and total separation from god. i also believe that hell is not a place you are sent to, but rather a place you send yourself.

i mentioned purgatory in my earlier answer to a different anon; this is where that comes in. i generally concur with pope francis when he says that he likes to think of hell as empty (note: he was not issuing doctrine here). i believe that in purgatory, 99.999% (you get it) of people, if not 100%, are able to reconcile with god and see the consequences of their decisions, good and bad, throughout their life.

you know when you tell someone something that is true, but they keep on rejecting it, no matter what evidence you show them? that’s what i imagine is happening to the other .001%.

god is endlessly patient; he doesn’t mind spending eons trying to convince others to have empathy for their fellow man. however, humans are not as patient. they get fed up and walk away—and this is my (limited) understanding of the process of going to hell.

i’ll be honest, i don’t know if hell is permanent, temporary, etc. i’m not sure how helpful it is to debate it, either. but what i do know is very helpfully summarized in this post by the lovely hymnsofheresy.

whenever i have doubts about some aspect of what i believe being incorrect, i remind myself that god is love. he loves us more than anything in the world, and nothing we can do will ever change that. he doesn’t look for reasons for you to go to hell; he wants to be with us all the time.

thank you for sending in this ask, and i hope it helped ❤️❤️❤️

[imagine-silk]

May I request something with Nick? Like, Sole was a detective who worked with the Nick who Nick was based off of? So Nick would definitely be surprised to see Sole. I could kinda see that perhaps this could cause a bit of inner conflict with Nick too. Thank you for considering my request, hun!

》I need to learn how to make dividers. If any of you know how to make them let me know. (oh my god I never knew I liked to be called 'hun' (⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝))

Nick back then was different for obvious reasons. The war was still going on but it was still not a lost cause, and he didn't encounter it day to day by force but by choice. He was married to Jenny, the girl of his dreams that he always thought was out of his league. His identity was unquestioned and never in doubt and he never had a problem with his body. He was happy with his life.

You had a huge influence on him. When he met you he was just barely out of his cop uniform and getting used to wearing what he wanted. You were the one he was assigned to to learn the ropes. Something you weren't very happy about in the beginning but you were never mad at him, he wasn't the one to make the call. So you showed him what you did and taught him what you knew at the time.

From the start he wanted to make a good impression and was very eager to please. It took a second for him to calm it down. He still admired you. After his tutelage was done neither of you asked for a change. It was silently agreed you were partners, no talk needed.

You were there when he scanned his brain. It was for college students and their studies. You told him it was strange and to think twice about it but he laughed and said it was for science. That's the last memory he had when he woke up in the trash.

While he was adjusting he stumbled a lot. Then when he was welcomed into Diamond city and given his agency he tried to take hold of his life. The way he did was to pretend like he was you, to do what you would do, to take authority and be the one in charge. Over the years he changed. After a lot of reflection he realized you wouldn't have wanted that, you didn't want him to be you. You would want him to be the best version of himself. So he strive to be the person you saw in him.

Time stopped for him when you saved him in the vault. He felt so many different things. And he saw your confusion. You were under the impression he survived like you did, because no one told you he was a synth. Neither of you remember who said you should get moving but one of you did.

At the agency you asked your companion to wait outside for this reunion. "Nicki." A nickname you always called him by fondly. "You do remember me, right?"

What was he supposed to do, lie to you? But that was the problem. How much of him was a lie? He tried to explain but that made him think in circle. He did remember you but he wasn't yours, he wasn't who you remembered. He wasn't Nick. But he did know you. He still wanted to please you. He wanted you to see what he made of himself and tell him he did good. But you weren't his to claim because he wasn't Nick. But he was. He was Nick and there was no running away from that.

You hushed him, "It's okay. If you want to go back to us we'll do that. If you want me to be a stranger we can do that. I'll go at your pace. No matter if you're my Nick or your own. And if you never want to see or speak to me again I'll leave after we find Shaun." Again you put the ball in his court, just like he remembered. And he knew whatever he said you would pick the ball up and play the game with his rules.

"I'm not him. I'm not. But I want to be with you again." It was all so much. He knew you but you didn't know him. Somehow you knew exactly what he meant; I want you to know the me now.

He never really thought about how much he missed you in the last couple of years but now that you were here it was kind of embarrassing. You hired him to help you but he still looked up to you. It felt like he was hired help instead of a private eye. Every step of the way you smiled and told him he was doing a good job.

Throughout your time together you bond. It's different but familiar, it's built on what you had and became what was new.

He actually held Shaun once. He actually held him several times but he only remembered the first. This was personal for him too. The child of his best friend.

He was so confused when you came back through the telepad without Shaun. He followed you when you stormed away to your house and saw your break down. "I lost everything. Every fucking thing! My world, my wife, my partner, and now my son. What am I here for? Who do I need to kill-" You stopped when you saw his face and realized what you said. "That's not what I meant. Nicki. Nick!" You called out but he was out the door.

There he was hiding in his office like he did after your first fight on the job. But that was the problem wasn't it, he wasn't the one you upset at the time. Of course you knew he was hiding there and showed up. He didn't stop you when you sat down next to him. "Do you remember-"

"I probably do." It was bitter and pointed but you continued.

"Not like that. Yesterday I said 'tomorrow this will all be over'. And you said?"

"'It's not over until the fat lady sings'."

You chuckled, smiled, like nothing was wrong. You were so good at that. "That was the first time I'd ever heard that. You, Nick, never said that. It surprised me. What a weird saying. You're not Nick, I know that. I lost him. But I have you."

You'd just found out you lost everything from before the war and here he was being selfish, having the gall to need reassurance from you. The sweet thing was he knew you would tell him that was a stupid thought and you'd always have time for him no matter how silly. "You do have me." Like that he tilted and put his head on your shoulder.

[fellthemarvelous]

Invisible scars

(TW: religious trauma)

Looking at me, you wouldn't know that I've survived religious trauma. The marks of religious trauma are seldom visible. In fact, I had no idea for the longest time that I had religious trauma (I thought it was a thing that happened to other people). I simply spent decades questioning the reasons I felt like I was so broken on in the inside. I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and why I never felt happy or like I was never able to connect to anyone. I had no idea that my experience with the church as a small child is what shaped me into the anxiety-ridden, majorly depressed disaster creature I am today.

I spent 12 years learning inside of Catholic schools. It has taken me more than 20 years to process and deconstruct, and I am always going to be a work in progress. I was brainwashed into believing the very worst about myself, and I was always just beyond saving because I had the misfortune of being a woman in a church that taught us that women experience pain during childbirth as a natural consequence of Eve eating the apple, which is why they enjoy making us suffer in the first place. They taught us that Adam ate the apple because Eve seduced him, so even though Adam also ate the apple, his sin still wasn't as bad as Eve's because she did it first and used sex to get him to do the same. They placed the blame for Original Sin squarely on Eve and thus onto every single girl who entered the church. If a boy did something to me that I didn't like, it's probably because I did something to provoke him first.

Do you know what I learned to do at a very young age just to be able to cope with that?

I learned to use humor to deflect when I was struggling. I smile when I don't want people to know I'm sad. I laugh at inappropriate times, especially when I'm uncomfortable. I learned to bottle up all of my emotions because expressing anything other than happiness is bad. I learned to compartmentalize. I taught myself how to pull out the right emotion for the right occasion because I was always striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. It was exhausting.

In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to figure out which parts of me are really me and which parts of me are things that were put into my head. If you've experienced indoctrination, you know what I'm talking about. They pulled us apart as small children and placed us in specific boxes and told us that deviating from the norm was bad.

Crowley is a fallen angel. His change from angel to demon is drastic on the outside.

You know he fell and that his wings turned black and he ended up in a pool of boiling sulfur. It's the reason Crowley is so easy to sympathize with. He suffered unfairly because of arbitrary rules that deemed him unforgivable. He's accepted that part of himself. He's clever and creative and it has helped him find ways to get out of doing his job for centuries. Hell doesn't care how jobs get done just as long as someone does them, and at this point humanity is doing more to damn themselves than the demons are able to keep up with. They're tired and overworked. Hell is overpopulated even though it should be infinite in size. Crowley wants no part of that system because he sees it for what it is, just as he sees Heaven for what it is. He has the marks to prove that he is one of the damned, but that has given him all the perspective he needs to see that both sides are fucked up and toxic and "irredeemable" (just like him). He has yet to fully let go of the hold Heaven has over him because of how badly he got hurt.

Aziraphale is still an angel.

He never fell, and he doesn't know why. He has lied to God. He has lied to Gabriel repeatedly. He lies to protect Crowley. He lies to protect humanity.

Remember, Crowley and Aziraphale started off in the same place.

They both started off as angels who were created to do God's bidding. Aziraphale is the one who told Crowley what he'd heard about everything shutting down in 6,000 years. He was simply trying to make conversation. He didn't think it was something Crowley would object to. Angels were just supposed to go along with God's plans, but Crowley had a different opinion and was vocal about it. Where did Aziraphale get his information in the first place? Why does nobody ever ask this question?

Aziraphale knows Heaven is toxic. He's not blind. We need to move past this idea that because he still has love for God that he doesn't know Heaven is fucked up. He never fell, and it's something he still fears because who the hell doesn't fear the thought of eternal torment, especially if you know it's real? God has never cast him out of Heaven though and he doesn't know why. It's probably something that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

Letting go is not an easy task. Aziraphale has always been an angel. He didn't have his identity ripped from him the same way that Crowley did. Crowley had to adapt to a brand new way of existing because he was cast out of Heaven.

Crowley's trauma is evident on the outside. Aziraphale's trauma is hidden on the inside. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Crowley was an angel and then he was a demon, but he doesn't want to be labeled as either.

Aziraphale has only ever known how to be an angel. He's only ever known the ways of Heaven.

I'm only in my early 40s. It has taken me 20+ years to undo 12 years of religious abuse. Aziraphale is immortal. He and Crowley have abandoned their jobs, but four years in the space of millions isn't a lot. No one overcomes indoctrination in four years. Especially when you had millions of years of blind obedience indoctrinated into you. It simply does not work that way no matter how much you want to believe it can.

It has taken me more than two decades to learn how to stop hating myself. I still have no idea how to love myself, but it's something I'm trying to learn.

My entire identity was wrapped up in what the church told me it would be. Once I fully denounced it and all organized religion, I found out I had no idea who I was. No one had prepared me for a life outside of this one very specific identity and role that I was expected to fill based on a very specific box I was placed into.

I still struggle with black and white concepts. It's hard to unlearn when you have no other basis for comparison, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. It means that these changes do not and will not ever happen overnight.

The fall didn't just affect the demons though. It affected the angels as well. Look at how tightly wound the angels are. They're always trying to do the good thing, but they have no idea what that actually means, and you realize this when Uriel asks The Metatron if they had done something wrong. They are scared of making mistakes, but none of them know what they are supposed to be doing since Gabriel disrupted the status quo. You can see they are unsure of themselves and of each other. The concept of free will is so foreign to them, but Aziraphale showed all of them that it was in their grasp when he allowed Gabriel and Beelzebub to decide where to go so they could be together.

It takes a lot of audacity (and sheer ignorance) to dismiss Aziraphale as power-hungry and abusive.

Aziraphale did nothing to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub. He allowed them to leave because they were in love with each other, and he knows what that feels like. He thought he was about to get the same fate with Crowley until The Metatron showed up and refused to take no for an answer.

He doesn't want to fix Heaven because he thinks it's perfect. If he thought it was perfect he wouldn't want to fix it.

Aziraphale is going back into the Lion's Den. He knows what he's going up against. He's been humiliated and belittled and abused by Heaven for thousands of years.

His scars are there even though you can't see them, and he hides his pain with humor and silliness.

When I see people advocating for Aziraphale to suffer even more because they don't think he has suffered enough, I find myself sitting back in one of those classrooms in Catholic school being told that I deserve the bad things that happen to me because I somehow failed to measure up to some impossible metric. The cruelty of that mindset aimed at Aziraphale is kinda the reason Crowley hates Heaven in the first place because he's been there too.

And as someone who is processing religious trauma, it's disheartening to see people say that because Aziraphale has yet to fully let go of Heaven that he deserves harsher treatment. Crowley would definitely not agree with that sentiment.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 5

Source for pic

Firestarter 5

Word Count: 4862

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: And just as things progress, they fall back again. Is it Ace's problem, or is it the fact that you have so much trouble trusting his intentions?

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Next Chapter|

You refuse to let yourself be broken down by this. It's nothing you weren't expecting. You just need to remain cool, gather your wandering thoughts, and actually go back to acting like a friend around him, instead of acting like a jealous girlfriend. 

Because you are not!

You regret almost immediately blowing up in his face, but it’s such an uncontrollable feeling! And you are in no way entitled to it. You’re just his friend! Nothing else!

Though you're not quite sure why he was acting so cold towards you, it's nothing you don't deserve, seeing as you've treated him quite coldly during the party as well, maintaining your distance, trying to avoid exactly this feeling of powerlessness. 

Did he deserve the way you snapped at him? 

No. 

Were you right about it? 

No. Probably not. 

But seeing him shy away from your touch made you feel slighted, and made you feel, once more, like you're less than the girls he usually hooks up with. Like you're not enough. An empty feeling that settles somewhere around your stomach and makes you nauseous.

Shanks raises his eyebrow at you when you pass by him outside. Benn Beckman waves and you are forced to stop because you don't want to be rude to your father's good friend.

“Benn! Hi!”

He says your name and chuckles as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You're all grown up, look at you!”

“And what an interesting choice for an outfit…” Your father grunts as he spots Ace's shirt. 

Crumpling your smelly dress in your hands, you stutter before letting out a nervous laugh. “Right! I spilled a drink on my dress and A-... hmm, Ace lent me his shirt.” You mumble the last part as Beckman stifles a laugh with pursed lips. 

To his credit, Shanks controls himself rather well. He takes two deep breaths and tousles his hair, his eyes wandering around and stopping anywhere but on your own. “I, um… you… um… Is Ace…” He exhales sharply and you decide to cut both of your misery short. 

“Nothing is happening between me and Ace. I got way too drunk and Ace threw me in his bed  before I drank even more and-...”

“What?!” Shanks’ face reddens and Beckman whistles. 

“No, not like that, dad, come on! He just put me there to sleep it off before I passed out! He took care of me, nothing else.” You groan while hiding your face behind your hands. “God!” You squeal. “Can I go inside, please?”

“Yes!” Shanks grunts, exasperatedly and you disappear, Beckman’s laugh still echoing in your ears. 

-*-

You pace your room from one side to the other, phone in hand, hair still wet from showering, and dripping fat droplets on your bare shoulders as you still have the towel draped around your body. You've drafted about three different texts to Ace. And you've deleted them all. 

You want to apologise to him but, at the same time, you're still mad at him. So it's a weird feeling, one that hangs heavily upon your stomach. 

Sighing, you lock your phone and stand at your window, staring straight at Mr. Garp’s house. At Ace's window. 

Huffing your frustration into the air, you lean on the windowsill, one hand resting against your chin and the other crossed over your chest. 

You're obsessing. You know it. And you need to shake that feeling away! If you could just… 

“No!” Suddenly you gasp, your eyes opening wide. Snippets of last night start to play in your mind and you are rudely reminded of what you said to Ace. 

What you did to Ace. 

Ride that cowboy. Scratch that itch.

No! 

Did you really straddle Ace and try to kiss him? Did you suggest he should just fuck you so you could both move on? Have you no shame?

Your cheeks burn as your breath quickens. No wonder he was so cold with you in the morning! You treated him like a piece of meat! 

And he refused you again… 

But this time he was absolutely right! You were drunk! 

As if on cue, Ace opens his curtains, hair also dripping wet and towel on his waist. He's about to turn but he sees you. You can't see the expression on his face, but he doesn't seem to be smiling. 

You wave shyly. 

He doesn't. 

Sighing, you unlock your phone. You deserve the cold shoulder. But he deserves an apology. 

His phone doesn't even ring once before he picks it up, already guessing what you meant to do. 

“Hi.” You whisper and see him cock his head to one side, hand sitting on the side frame of the window, arm muscles flexing, and you thank the gods above for the distance because this is a very sinful image of him. 

“Hey.”

“I'm sorry. I…” You face-palm yourself in embarrassment. “Ugh! I just started to remember what I said and did to you last night! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!”

A few seconds pass before you're greeted by his chuckle. “Okay.”

“No, no! It's not okay!” You wave your hand in the air. “God, Ace! I’m so embarrassed even thinking about it. I didn’t mean any of it! Please, don’t take it seriously… alcohol does funny things to me!”

Even though you can’t see his expression from this far, you watch as he scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t even take it seriously yesterday. Don’t worry. I know you were pissed drunk, which I kind of warned you about, so that’s on you.” He still sounds very serious. 

“You were right. You were so right! And the things I've told you today? When all you wanted to do was help me and keep me safe…!? You were right to keep your distance from me this morning! I practically harassed you Ace, I'm sorry… I’m such a big idiot…” 

“I’m not upset with that, don’t worry.” His tone seems lighter, but he’s still holding back.

“Then if that wasn’t it, why were you acting so distant this morning?” Your voice is barely a whisper. You try to recall what you might’ve done wrong besides that whole riding him debacle, but you come up short. Unless you really were right and he wanted to hook up with someone and you cock-blocked him. 

He remains silent for a while, maybe weighing if you're worth sharing his reasons with or not. “Just hungover. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not sure I buy that answer.” Grunting, you sit at the windowsill, eyes never leaving his form. He shakes his head and gestures. 

“Don't sit like that, crazy! The window’s open! You might fall.”

A light chuckle escapes your lips. “So, does that mean you accept my apologies?”

He gives you a thumbs-up from across the window. “You're okay by my book, Firestarter. But seriously, get off from there.”

Raising your hand in a silent apology, you take your legs away from the window, sitting up. “I'm off the sill. And, for the record, I like that…”

“What?”

“Firestarter.”

His chuckle sounds warm this time and you smile at him, even though he might not be able to see the smile from where he's standing. 

“Yeah, I like that too…” 

You take a very deep, steadying breath, and the thought of hanging up crosses your mind. You should hang up. You don't want to get more involved. You really don't. You need space from him. You need to stop this obsession. 

“So, what are you going to do now?” He asks, putting an end to your miserable thoughts. 

Twirling a strand of hair in your hand, you take a step back. “Get out of this wet thing, dress, and I don't have any more plans today. Maybe I'll call Nami to see if she's going to the Jubilee.” 

You remember there being a fair there, with rides and other games, and a big Ferris wheel. You might check that out. 

“Need help with the dressing part?” He says cheekily and you realise he’s trying to get your flirty dynamic back on track, so that pulls a cheeky grin from your lips as well.  

Don't get involved. Space. Stop obsessing. He flirts with everyone!

“I can manage alone, cowboy.” 

You hear him chuckle again. “I'll be at the Jubilee later. The firemen have a little stand there, selling some merchandise and today is my day to manage it. If you go, stop by, will you? We have calendars.”

“Oh! You do? Like the sexy ones?”

“Could they be anything else when I'm on them?” You can practically hear his smirk over the phone. 

“Well I was thinking more about Luffy… And Robin says that your coworker Franky is quite the man as well… Maybe I'll see if they're featured in my favourite months.” 

You giggle at his reaction because he takes a step back with a hand over his heart. “And here I was, willing to sign your copy…”

“Well, if you put lipstick on and leave a kiss near your signature, I might get a copy, then!”

“It's a deal.”

Simple, easy, fun, natural. You sigh. You need to distance yourself from him but it's so hard. 

“Bye, Ace.” You whisper. Maybe you just have to resign yourself to pining and obsessing for an unattainable man forever. You're only hurting yourself, anyway. 

“See you later, Firestarter.”

-*-

The girls aren't free. It's one of their coworker’s birthday and there's a dinner and a party they need to attend, but they promise to join you to watch the fireworks at midnight. Since the rest of your friends are all at the Jubilee, you decide to go, even if you're going solo. 

Dressing casually in jeans, a halter top and a cardigan, you cross your fingers and pat your car affectionately before turning the ignition. It works perfectly and you realise you still haven't thanked Kid for fixing it. 

Finding a spot to park gives you a headache but you finally spot a minivan leaving and gleefully take its place since it's really close to the entrance. 

The festival looks really pretty with all the lights and music, and the sweet smells of candied apples and popcorn. People seem happy and that makes you smile as well. You spot your father and approach him to lay a kiss on his cheek and see how his back is. 

“I'm fine, bug. Benn is doing all the heavy work.” His friend chuckles as he lifts another kid by the waist so he can ride the pony. “You're alone?”

Nodding, you fake a pout. “Nami and Robin have a birthday party to attend.”

“And Ace?” He tries with a slight raise of his brow. 

You try to disguise a blush, but fail miserably. 

“He's working, dad. And we're just friends. Now I'm going to stroll around and say hi to people. Do you want a hotdog?”

He pats your head patronisingly. “I'm fine, bug! See you later.”

You say your goodbyes to your dad and Beckman and continue your stroll. There are homemade goods stands - jams, honey, dried meats - there are handmade product stands - jewellery, toys, linen - and that's where you spend most of your time, actually buying some handmade cute jewellery before you move on. 

There's a place for the animals - where your father is - and then, up ahead, the games and food section, where you intend to spend some time and hope to find familiar faces. But you intend to buy a hotdog first, since you skipped dinner at home, knowing there would be plenty of food to taste at the Jubilee.

You’re in line waiting and swaying your feet to the beat of the happy song, when your turn finally comes.

“A hotdog, please. With all the works!” You smile and fish out a bill from your wallet.

“Make that two and I’ll pay.”

A smirk appears on your lips as you look to your side only to be met with Ace’s wide grin. He’s wearing the fireman’s uniform, well, half of it anyway. He has the uniform pants on, but only a black t-shirt on top. A freaking fitted black t-shirt that showcases all of his ripped muscles. 

“You paid for the pizza, the other day. It’s my turn.” You whine and stand on tiptoes, trying to reach the lady behind the high counter of the food truck before Ace, but he’s taller and familiar with the lady, as it seems, because she smiles at him and takes the bill from his hand, completely ignoring you. 

“Come on, Firestarter, did you really think I was going to let you pay for food?”

“Yes!”

“Well, you were wrong.”

He receives the two hot dogs, thanks the lady and beckons you to follow him. You’re expecting him to go to the tables in the food section, but he goes into the back of the food truck and, after walking for a little bit, to a place less illuminated and away from the Jubilee, - completely ignoring your questions as to where he’s leading you - you realise you know where you are.

It’s the park. The kids’ playground where you used to play when you were younger. Except it has new toys now and an iron fence around it, with a gate that’s apparently locked at night. 

“Hold this.” He says and hands you the hotdogs. You do and he jumps the fence with ease by placing one hand on it and jumping over. You would be impressed, if the fence wasn’t just a very small thing that hits you around the waist. “No cheering?” He asks with a grin.

“A child could do that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, because then, this fence wouldn’t be necessary.” You bite back a chuckle as to not indulge his jokes, but he notices your amusement. Then, without notice, he reaches and picks you up, bridal style, to hoist you over the fence.

You yelp but you can’t do anything because both your hands are occupied with the food, so you let him carry you to his side of the fence, expecting him to put you down immediately, but he doesn’t. 

“You can put me down, Ace.” Did your voice falter? Because you’re sure it did.

He just smells so good. And he’s so warm, and taut, and he’s staring right into your eyes, making you shiver and hold your breath. You can’t stop staring at him as well and all you can think about is how good his lips would feel against yours, and are they as soft and juicy as they look?

Is he leaning in, though? He’s leaning in!

He’s leaning in!!

There’s an alarm blaring in your head telling you to pull back or to jump or drop a hotdog, anything to get you out of this situation, but you want this situation so badly. What is wrong with a kiss? Could your thoughts from the previous night be correct? If you scratch the itch, as Nami so eloquently put it, could you be free of it?

Sadly you don’t get to put that theory to the test, because both of you hear a low chuckle coming from the swings and the sound of old swing chains creaking.

“You guys are really adorable.”

“Deuce!?” Ace exclaims with a loud groan and you take the opportunity to swing your leg to the side and get away from Ace’s hold. You almost lose your balance, but his grip on your back doesn’t falter and you don’t fall. 

“I’m serious.” He sounds serious. “Adorable. I’m not even going to intrude. I was going to stay silent, smoke my blunt, and watch, but damn, do you two send out some extreme sexual vibes.” He laughs at your expression. You don’t look at Ace but you’re pretty sure he’s wearing a similar one. “Maybe work that out soon? It will become unbearable and one of you will explode.”

He looks purposefully at Ace, who gulps. 

“Now, I’ll really get out of your hair. For the price of a hotdog, please!” He smirks and you curve your lip upwards as well. He and Ace are quite similar, you can see why they get along. 

“Here, freeloader, beat it!” Ace removes one of the hotdogs from your hold and gives it to Deuce, who accepts it and then proceeds to take your hand in his again, ready to lay another kiss on the back of it, but Ace shoves him with his foot.

“I said beat it!”

He pretends to be hurt and leaves by simply opening the gate of the fence with a click and shaking his head at both of you with three tsks. You stare at Ace with a frown. “Did you know the gate was unlocked?”

“Maybe?” He shrugs and chuckles. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Pacing forward with a fake pout upon your lips, you sit down at one of the swings. “Well you just lost yourself a hotdog.”

“Meh, I wasn’t even hungry.” He says but his stomach betrays him and you laugh.

“Take mine. I’ll buy another later, you’re probably on dinner break, right?”

He sits on the swing next to you and, after another bit of coaxing, takes the hotdog from your hand. “Yeah, I am. I need to get back in around fifteen minutes.”

You smile and start to swing back and forth, your hands gripping the chains of the swing. “Oh and you decided to spend that time with me? Should I be flattered?”

He stays silent for so long that you have to look at him twice because you think he might have choked on the bread. He just looks pensive and hasn’t even taken a bite of his meal. 

“It’s not supposed to be something to make you feel flattered. It’s not like you’re the chosen one, or whatever… I just like spending time with you.”

What did he mean by that? You’re the chosen one? You don’t get it.

“I don’t get it.” You say without slowing down your swinging. He remains quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the hotdog in his hands. 

“What I mean is…” he trails off, chasing the right words and you’re surprised. You didn’t take Ace as someone who could be at a loss for words. “I don’t have any ulterior motives when it comes to you. I just want to be with you. That’s it.”

He sounds so sincere that you use your feet to stop abruptly. What is he trying to say? That you’re somewhat special? Different from those other girls he spends time with? 

Then it hits you.

He wants to spend time with you as friends. That’s why you’re different. That’s why he doesn’t have ulterior motives. That’s why he keeps rejecting you. The kiss when you raced, the kiss at Luffy's party. It all makes sense. 

You take a deep breath and smile widely. “Yes, I love our friendship too, Ace. Thank you for spending time with me, as a friend. We’re good friends.”

Have you said the word friend enough? Or variations of it? Because by the defeated look on his face, you sure have. But why does he have a defeated look? Wasn’t that what he meant?

Then it hits you again. If you set the ‘friends’ bar, then the chase is over, and he lost, even if friends is all he ever wanted to be, right? That’s why he looks defeated. It has to be it.

Right?

Are you even making sense? It seems like your logic has some flaws, but you refuse to give them much thought. 

Sighing, he lets out a pained laugh. “Yes, we’re friends.” He says your name sternly and starts to eat his hotdog. The air becomes thicker and awkward and you don’t quite know how to make it light again, but Ace simplifies things for you by getting up abruptly, having finished his food in just two bites. 

His hand raises and he scratches the back of his head, trying to smile, but it never really reaches his freckles or his eyes. “Well, I’ve got to go back. Are you coming?”

“Yeah.” You nod and jump off the swing with a perfect landing. This time he opens up the gate of the fence and both of you leave. The silence is very uncomfortable and he whispers a short goodbye before heading back to his stand. 

You feel somewhat guilty for his mood, but you’re not sure you’ve done anything wrong. He’s the one with the commitment issues - you think. You’re just the one with the unmanageable obsession and trust issues. 

How is that supposed to even work?

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you take a look around, exploring what you want to see next. You wanted to see the firemen’s calendar, but Ace didn’t invite you to go with him and you sense he might need some space. 

So you might as well hop onto the Ferris wheel to take in the view. After a surprisingly short amount of time in line, you get on and the view is amazing. The twinkling lights of the festival, the people wandering around, the excited kids and the smell of popcorn and candy floss. 

All of it brings a smile to your lips, even though your mood is still a bit sour from before. Yet the ride quickly comes to an end but not before bringing you some clarity of mind. You need to clear the air with Ace. You like being around him too much to let things remain awkward between you.

So you go in search of the fireman stand, hoping he’s not too mad at you.

However, you hear a rumbling noise and alarmed screams, and turn in time to see a collapsing stall near the vendors. There is a woman passing by that got trapped amongst the poles and the tarp and the rest of the stall seems about ready to collapse on top of her.

People are already gathering and trying to help, but you see a quick movement to your right and glimpse Ace running towards the action, a serious expression upon his face as his fireman training kicks in and he quickly frees the woman from the collapsing stall, earning a victorious cheer from the crowd and a smile from you.

Your heart flutters and you sigh. Ace really is something else.

“Are you alright?” He asks the woman and, even though the crowd disperses, your attention remains focused on him. The woman is very attractive. She has long, flowy blonde hair, a beautiful face and she’s clearly dressed to impress in a short, tight dress. 

Smiling at Ace and batting her eyelashes, she holds him in a tight hug. “Oh, I am! Thanks to you! I was so scared.” Her voice trembles and you don’t doubt one bit that she was scared. You were scared and you were a mere onlooker. Though her nails digging into Ace’s chest are a bit too much, you think. “You saved my life! How can I ever thank you?”

Her voice quickly turns from shaken to seductive and you raise an eyebrow. 

“I was just doing my job, m’am.” Ace chuckles and grins. That cute, cheeky grin that takes up his whole face and makes his freckles jump. Your stomach clenches and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Ace lets go of the woman but she still lingers close, clearly interested. “Oh, none of this m’am business. You can call me by my name.” And then she leans in to whisper her name into his ear, her hand cradling his neck and he doesn't do anything to push her away. You scoff while turning around.

You just want to be friends. You don’t have to listen, or watch this. He can do whatever he wants. 

But as soon as you take another step forward, your attention still focused behind you, you bump into a stall, knocking over a display of jewellery and, clearly, announcing your position to the man you were attempting to leave behind. You apologise profusely, embarrassed, even though the older lady - it's Makino, one of your dad's friends! - tells you it's alright and not to worry. 

“Hey, you came back, I was afraid you left without saying goodbye. Need help?” Ace's voice reaches you from behind and you turn with a grimace, half-expecting him to be with the woman from before, but he's alone. 

Forcing a smile, you shake your head while your hands keep tidying up the display. “It's fine, I'm fine. Thanks. You can go back to your… uh… fan?” You shrug and smirk. 

“Don't be like that. I was just being polite, it's part of the job.” He makes his point by crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“It's good to know that all firefighters let themselves be fondled by the women they save. Maybe I should get myself into some trouble just to earn the same benefits.” The last part comes out in an almost incomprehensible mumble but he still catches it. 

“Like you'd need to be in trouble to fondle me. Just say when. Right here? Right now?”

You bite your tongue to stifle a laugh because you were meant to be annoyed at him. But it's nice that he's actually joking, after the weird atmosphere left between the two of you on the swings. So you don't say anything else on the matter. More so because you spot a beautiful bracelet on the stand: it's orange and it has one feather hanging. It's a charm bracelet. And you're actually charmed. 

Ace notices the way you're enamoured by it and reaches for his wallet. “Hey, Makino, I'll take the bracelet for the pretty lady, please.” He grins at the older lady behind the counter and she chuckles at him with a glint in her eyes. 

“No, Ace, come on! Stop buying me things!” You blush because Makino starts to giggle at both of you. 

“Never.” He states and hands a bill to pay for the bracelet.”

“Thank you, Ace. You've got good taste.” She winks and turns her face to you, but then her grin turns mischievous. “But you know, those charms come as a set.” She grabs another bracelet, this one blue with two feathers. “Here, this one should be worn by you.”

Your blush deepens as Ace grins and takes the charm. “Really?”

“Oh, no, Ace, that's not necessary! We don't need to have matching anythings.” You turn to Makino and shake your head. “We're not together!”

She simply laughs as Ace ties the bracelet around his right wrist. 

“I don't care what you say. We're twinsies, now.”

You want to face-palm from embarrassment but end up laughing with him. You're struggling to get your bracelet on, but before you get the chance to ask Ace to help you, the attractive woman he rescued comes sauntering over to him. 

“Here you are, handsome. Let me pay you that drink now, as a thank you.” 

All these things happen at the same time and you barely register them: The woman snakes an arm around Ace's and pulls him, kissing him on the cheek affectionately, Makino frowns at Ace and the woman, the cord of your bracelet snaps from the added pressure, and you gasp with surprise. 

“Uh… I…”

Ace starts but you save him the embarrassment of having to make up some lie. “It's okay, Ace. I was just leaving anyway. Go have fun.”

Makino grumbles something beneath her breath - you’re pretty sure she’s calling the lady a lot of unspeakable things - as she snatches the bracelet from your hands and, with deft and nimble fingers, trades the broken cord in a heartbeat. 

“I can stay.” He mutters, but you see the woman's nails digging into his biceps as she leans her breasts towards his body and smirks at you, daring you, provoking you and, clearly stating that you know she’s better than you, prettier, more interesting. Your heart clenches and tightens. 

You'll only ever just be friends. Nothing more. He doesn't want to kiss you because you don't look like that. You're not that attractive. You made your ex cheat on you because you're not good enough. 

God, now is not the time to tear up. “No. I'm leaving.” You thank Makino politely for fixing your bracelet but you don't put it on. Instead, you turn away and will your feet to walk fast, one in front of the other, your fist clenched against the bracelet. 

“Wait!” He calls your name but you don't stop, you're pretty sure he saw the beginning of your tears and you know that if you turn now, they will leave the safety of your eyes and you’ll break.

You can't cry over him because you're nothing to him. 

One step in front of the other. 

“Wait!”

But you don't wait. You leave him to his new girl. Who's everything you will never be able to be for him. 

One step in front of the other. 

You didn't want to be just another one, anyway. So being nothing will have to suffice.

[forsworned]

a thought i couldn't get out of my head about kyle because of this image

cw: religious themes, sexual themes, sacrilege, religious guilt, temptation, power dynamics, Kyle being a delicious temptation.

Penitent!Kyle is beaten, battered, and bruised seeking salvation when he has a terrible run-in with God’s Judgement. He’s the biggest talk around your small, docile, God-fearing town, caught stealing apples with pockets full with of hardtacks. He begs the Minister to let him go, he was running from his “demons”, he says. And that single-handedly saves him from losing his head. Poor, wretched soul, tortured by the voices in his head.

You spot him in the dim sanctuary, a lone figure at the witching hour, talking to the altar, begging for forgiveness in the form of penance. To be gentle, graceful, and the utmost serene. And you, the town beauty, who has been spying on him for the past half hour or so, step out. There’s a creak in the wooden floorboards that captures his attention. And then he sees you, face illuminated by the candle you carry with both hands. It casts a warm, angelic glow over your dulcet features, and his amber, dewy eyes team at the sight. An angel.

He curses himself for the lack of restraint his cock is practicing, but he holds himself still as you approach him. Hands interwoven on the prayer rail, kneeling before God, tears cascading down his smooth golden brown face—looking like an angel himself.

“You’re seeking salvation,” you take him in once more, heart thrumming like a hummingbird's wings in your rib cage. “I see your struggle, I can help guide you,” you murmur, each word a tender caress, “help you find the forgiveness you seek.”

God has heard him. The pathetic sinner he is, He has heard him.

“You’d do that for me?” His whisper is faint, but you hear him clearly in the still night.

You don’t even skip a beat, “Yes.”

And his honey eyes analyze your every move, from the beat you gentle place your pricket candleholder atop of the prayer bench to the way you gracefully glide to the ewer, pouring out holy water into the a bowl. His heart beats louder with every stride you take toward him and you stand tall, poised and maternally before him. Like Mother Mary in the flesh, the light cascades a heavenly glow upon your skin. It’s as if the voices in his head grow silent with every word you utter.

Your voice echoes along the church walls as you begin the ritual, he’s hardly paying attention to the declarations that fall from your mouth. Only imagining how your lips would look puckered around his twitching, rock hard length, “…and renew your soul, granting you the redemption you seek.”

The candlelight dances, outlining your visage, and his Adam’s apple bobs. He’s no longer obstinate in the path God creates for him. He is more than willing to embrace humility, show remorse, and let go of his pride. His eyes quiver, body spasming from the long hours he's spent in these four walls to subdue his demons, to strive for the quiet, serene life of man and wife, and to give up his incubus-like ways. The route to redemption lies right there in front of him, right between your bosom. So soft, so sweet, so willing to bring him to the light, coax him through your expressions of adoration toward the Lord.

“I accept.” He bows his head in acknowledgement, before you tip the bowl to have his sweet, supple lips touch the rim. His knees touch the wooden floor and he looks so sweet, so submissive and willing to give anything to have his sins wiped clean.

Your core throbs with heat, envisioning him hiking up your wool skirt to lap you up. But you allow him to drink, holding the bowl steady as he takes his first tentative sip, water dribbles down his chin and wets his breeches as he sups it up with a haste that makes the desire coil tight within your belly. It’s hard to ignore the large bulging between his thighs, the clamminess in his hands as he puts them over yours. He hears the sudden shudder in your breath, stumbling over as you lose your composure, water spilling into his lap, and apologizing profusely for your clumsiness.

His hardened length presses against his breeches and your innocent eyes broaden at the profane and luscious sight. You’re quick to pull on the discarded surplice that lies on the prie-dieu to blanket his sodden form. Temptation still lies heavy in the air, but you swiftly turn your back to him, rushing out of the chapel. Heart on your sleeve for the man that showed up on your town's doorstep for deliverance as you rush back to your home. You creep back through your window you leave ajar, un-wedging the fork and softly placing it on your nightstand as you catch your breath.

Fingers trembling at your sides with desire and adrenaline, and the memory of his hardened length outlined through the thin fabric of his breeches, tear stained bronzed cheeks, plump lips, woolen hair and taut chest that peeked through the loosened placket of his cotton shirt. And how can you forget his eyes? Eyes the color of golden, everlasting hearth, of polished amber in the first rays of dawn.

With clammy fingers, interlaced at the edge of your bed, you pray to God to let your provocations dissipate into the zephyr of the cool Autumn wind. Part of you doesn’t even want the enticement to leave you, to give into human nature. After all, man was weak.

This deserves a part two, yess???😇

[dior-luxury]

What if reader was looking at an advertisement of Vil and told Cater, Leona, Idia, Azul, and Jamil they look far prettier and more handsome than Vil?

What would happen? Will Vil murder them?

I feel like I'm bullying Vil, help

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Note: First of all... Poor Vil (×﹏×). Also this was kind of a hard prompt to write, but I liked the concept very much!! ♡( ◡‿◡ )

Characters: Cater, Leona, Idia, Azul, & Jamil

Dictionary: "Amor" means Love in some languages,"ジュエル" [Jueru] means 'Jewel' in Japanese.

Cater Diamond:

You two were casually taking a stroll through the nearby town with Cater.

The both of you were going back and forth talking about different subjects from time to time.

The two of you have just stopped by a nearby café where Cater insisted on taking pictures there. You two have spent almost your and Cater's life savings on.

As you were about to exit you both were greeted by a huge ad displaying one of the makeup collaborations Vil was in.

Cater looked up from his phone at the giant ad that was displayed on the holographic screen, "Oh you're looking at that. Yeah, Vil-Kun made another collaboration! He looks so pretty as always~".

You slowly nodded as you went to grab Cater's loose hand, "You are far prettier than Vil."

Cater gasped in shock from the sudden affection and words. Blushed formed around his face as you two both walked away.

"Wow~ My beloved s/o just called me prettier than Vil… I need to process this."

A drop of sweat ran down Cater's head as put a pleasant smile on his face, "I should post this event on Magi-cam!" Cater exclaimed.

He typed with his one hand rapidly as he amped up his walking speed.

Leona Kingscholar:

Ohoho, this man's ego just hit up higher- or even more than the total population of 'Twisted Wonderland', and that's saying a lot.

He naturally thinks about himself as more than Vil ever was so, props to that.

Leona can't help himself, to have the biggest grin on his face ever available, combined with his sly eyes.

His ego would be even higher if Vil was there to witness this all.

-

Leona tucks his loose hair behind his hair as he has a satisfied smirk on his face outlining his features. He's almost about to burst out laughing when he sees Vil's face.

Vil's face is a mixture of a lot of emotions, disappointment, disgust, annoyance... any negative emotion you could think of.

"See Vil? Little Herbivore right here thinks I'm the more handsome person in this entire room, including you."

Leona then wraps his arms around your shoulder as he exclaims tauntingly. Vil nods distressed as he waves goodbye.

Leona chuckles once more in satisfaction.

Idia Shroud:

You both were in Idia's room again chilling when you suddenly felt the urge to play 'Just Dance' with Idia.

Lucky for you, Idia was quietly on his bed listening to music. You slowly walked over to Idia's bed and sat down next to him. He looked at you confused as you handed him one of the controllers for the console.

Idia still had a confused face as you grabbed his hand and walked towards the front of the tv, "So you wanna play Just Dance?"

Idia returned a hesitant 'sure' as you both choose a random song to dance to.

-

You both were enjoying yourselves Idia randomly fell, causing you to burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Idia, you so appealing at this even more than Vil. I mean that in a sarcastic and non-sarcastic way."

The ends of Idia's hair turned pink as his eyes widened. He then covered his face in his hands to try and forget about the comment you have just said straight to his face.

"Wha- Y/n-"

He shook his head back and forth, holding onto his knees for dear life. You titled your head in confusion as you retracted your arms not knowing what to do.

Idia then was staying there for almost an hour as he slowly calmed down.

Azul Ashengrotto:

That comment would certainly boost his confidence. Azul defiantly strives for comments coming from his partner. It's no doubt that this one comment would have turned him into fried takoyaki.

You volunteered to take Azul clothes shopping at a nearby store Cater told you about. Azul was kind of skeptical about his whole idea of leaving the Monstro Lounge.

"I don't think I can do this, this time Amor... Who'll leave the place in charge- Ah. You'll say the twins won't you?".

Azul lowers his voice as he sighs in defeat as covers his mouth with his hand. "Alright you win. I'll go with you".

You cheer as you immediately grab his hand and run out of the door holding onto his hand.

-

Later, you were trying to find something that remotely fit his style until your eyes widened at a piece of clothing you found near the middle section of the store.

"What do you think?" You questioned as you turned around towards Azul holding the clothing item towards his body.

He lightly chuckled as he looked at you with awkwardness in his facial expression, "S/o, I don't think that would look good on me."

Azul's body posture turned stiff as he examined the piece of clothing, "I don't think I'm not that pretty to be wearing stuff with this-".

You put your finger on your lips to gesture silence, "What do you mean? You are hotter than you think. You could beat Vil in an appearance contest. People are so shy these days..."

You wandered off as you took the piece of clothing Azul was holding into your own hands. Azul's eyes widened so much that he didn't realize he's been blanked out while staring directly at you.

He clutched his heart as his eyes have gone all full of admiration, "I'm glad someone thinks that way." Azul laughed as immediately took the clothing item back into his hands.

"Maybe it will look good on me."

Jamil Viper:

Jamil might not come across as he cares, but he secretly wants you to shower him with those types of comments.

Something about the borderline sweetness of your voice saying that makes him want to hide in embarrassment.

The moment those words leave your lips, his face is dusted in a crimson red along his cheeks.

He urgently covers his face with his hand as he turns his head away from your face, "S/o- You can't be saying stuff like that. Kalim could come in here any minute."

You chuckle as you nod in agreement, "It's not like I'm lying your more handsome than Vil. By a landslide actually."

Poor Jamil nearly chokes on air as you repeat yourself another time. This time Jamil is about to die on the floor from the amount of heat pouring on his face.

He uses another hand to cover his face as he slowly dies out of embarrassment. He refuses to even turn around when he's in such a phase.

"Jueru, you can't keep doing this to me."

[satorkiees]

12 weeks

synopsis : y/n and shoto are academic rivals. what will entail on their journey through ua?

cw : academic rivals to lovers, angsty in parts, fluff, kinda cliche lol. likely grammar errors. 6.8k words.

.100

.99

“damn it!” you exclaimed, running your hands through your hair in frustration. your rival, shoto todoroki, who was fiddling with his pen, paid no mind to the test results.

he had become your rival accidentally though you were 90% sure it was a one sided affair. during your entry exam into U.A, you had helped him out of a tough spot with a robot and all you got in return was a begrudged thanks and a reminisce of gratitude. when the entry results came out, you were peeved. the guy (who you found out was shoto todoroki through your mother) scored higher than you even though he had DEFINITELY made an error. you swore to yourself from then on, that if this guy was in your class, it was fate for you to beat this guy.

now, it’s been months since you entered u.a and all of your test scores (specifically maths) had been good, outstanding even, but were never good enough to beat todoroki.

“don’t you think it’s getting a bit weird?” mina asked whilst tears were dramatically falling from your eyes.

“huh?” you replied.

“i mean as far as i know, you guys barely even talk so where did this huge grudge even come from?” she sighed, grabbing a crumpled tissue from her pocket. you took it gratefully and blew your nose.

however, shoto was painfully aware of your existence. when he had entered u.a, he never intended to dominate his class academically, his main focus was on honing his ice ability. 

though, during his time at u.a, he had become more invested in his academics. your sheer drive and tenacity to strive to be the best was admirable. his prior conversations with you had always been brief and mainly consisted of you swearing that he’d ‘reap the day he underestimated you’ - whatever that meant. but he figured he liked you, your determination, your extroversion, your smile…anyways, he decided that it was time to actually get to know you.

the bell rang whilst students filed out of the classroom bustling to the cafeteria for lunch. quickly, you shoved the rest of the contents of your desk into your bag as all of your friends had betrayed you to get an early lunch - leaving you behind. shoto watched you curiously, moving his hand to rest his face when he accidentally knocked his water bottle off the table causing an abrupt noise.

you shrieked to put it politely. turning around to face shoto todoroki - your sworn enemy. narrowing your eyes at him, you helped him pick up his water bottle and went to back to putting your remaining belongings in your bag.

“thank you,” he stood up, placing himself in your field of sight, “ i appreciate it.” and he walked off.

you were stunned. shocked even. you didn’t know this guy even knew how to smile let alone have manners. a weird feeling erupted in your stomach, a feeling you chose to ignore.

from then on, you and todoroki were on friendly terms, he went out of his way to smile or wave at you, to greet you ‘good morning’ without fail. you were slightly off put from the change but ultimately decided it was a good one. 

the gods were against you.

you had been paired with your sworn rival for the next 3 months. and with this feeling growing bigger every day, with his heterochromatic eyes and his nice smile…  you had no idea what to do. it was your last period of the day, both you and todoroki were tasked to stay behind and clear up the extra equipment. the silence was deafening and you had absolutely no intention of breaking it.

“do you hate me?” shoto says abruptly, breaking the silence

“what?” you turn around to face him properly for the first time this period.

“though we aren’t close, i feel as though ever since we’ve been at u.a, you’ve disliked me. and.. and i’m not sure if i’ve done anything to offend you but if i have, i’m sorry.”

your eyes widened at his apology. “oh.”

his eyes were honest, sincere enough that all you could do was turn away. as you walked on, it was as though he was seeing right through you. honestly, you didn’t even think todoroki even knew who you were and it wasn't as if you hated him. far from it, if anything, he made you feel insecure in your own sense of self but you had never hated him.

“i don’t hate you, or anything like that. i- i’m sorry that i gave that impression.” your voice coming out less strongly than you had liked. “if anything, i think i envied you a bit,“ your ears burning up at your confession.

 “you’re really smart and i just can’t seem to beat you.” with the rest of the equipment in your hands, you turned to face him again. his eyes were soft and his features slightly lifted. “so, i.. uh.. i consider you my rival, todoroki.” by the time you had finished, your whole face was flushed. the feeling was everywhere, it was a warm one, afraid todoroki would notice the sudden change in temperature. you turned on your heel leaving your rival with a faint smile imprinted on his lips.

two weeks had passed since then, and you would now consider todoroki a friend of sorts. the study sessions he held in the common room were helpful. you hung onto his every word, how his voice fluctuated slightly when trying to explain a difficult concept, or how he had pinned his hair back to stop his hair falling into his eyes. and the weird feeling had only grown bigger, enough to begin to consume you - you ignored it. it was normal to think about your rival like this, you reasoned. deciding you only started noticing these things so you could beat him in the future. that was all there was to it.

two weeks had passed since todoroki had asked if you hated him. and midoriya had helped him out by inviting you to the study sessions he held sometimes though he was certain you were more capable of teaching the content than he was. he noticed how your brows knitted together whilst trying to figure out a question or how your eyes lit up when you had finally figured it out. he was enthralled by you. and he had no idea why. when he had tried to ask his friends for help (namely midoriya), he was met with a pat on the back and a pitiful ‘good luck’.

four weeks had passed since you had picked up his water bottle. thoughts of him had begun to consume your whole being. his hair, his eyelashes, his honest eyes, his smell, his everything. his presence became overwhelming. as you were getting ready to take your last exam for the term, you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head.

truthfully, for the past week or so, you had been ignoring him like the plague. you stopped coming to the study sessions, you stopped replying as quickly to his texts, you stopped looking at him completely. you had to do well on this exam. you were certain you could beat him this time and for yourself, you HAD to do well because if you didn’t have your academics what else did you have? the clock began, the sound of pencils scrawling across the paper, the heavy breathing of your peers, all of it was familiar to you, it was what you were good at. the clock ended, pencils down and the tense atmosphere melted away.

“the test was sooooooo harddddddd” mina whined, stretching. you laughed with your friend though your heart wasn’t really in it. mina’s eyes lit up “ we should go shopping to celebrate !!”

though you weren’t usually one to pass up on an offer like that, you hadn’t felt this drained for a long time. so you politely declined her offer and encouraged her to go ask ochaco or tsu instead, leaving you behind again. his eyes were still burning in the back of your head, you began to pack up your stuff quicker to avoid having a conversation with him.

“are you alright, l/n?” shoto asked, concern laced in his words, leaving his seat, to help you pack up.

“yeah? why wouldn’t i be okay?” you said dismissively. taking away the notebook he had picked up for you from his hands.

“you’ve seemed off these past couple of days.” he said sincerely, trying to meet your averting gaze.

“todoroki.” you said,  looking directly into his eyes “ i’m fine so just let it be. i’m fine. if i needed your help. i would’ve asked for it.” you spat your words out, shoving the rest of your stationery in your bag and swiftly exiting the room. leaving todoroki confused as ever.

your conscience wouldn’t let you sleep that night, guilt devoured your whole being. he was just asking if you were okay and you blew up in his face? why would you do that? why would you say that? what if he never speaks to you again? what about he hates you now? your spiralling seemed to be never-ending until a notification interrupted your sniffling. the light made you squint, struggling to see who the notification was from.

todoroki : Hey, I know you said you were fine but I am worried about you. If you want

me to go away, block me but-

if you were sniffling before, you were heaving now. spiralling came to you naturally, and your heart had become so bruised that you ended up pushing away those who care about you. his message preview was enough for you to start crafting an apology. though tears still stained your face, the warm feeling had begun to push out the horrid feeling. you made a small bouquet of paper tulips and wrote a handwritten apology note. it was 11ish at night when you had finished, and you weren’t sure if shoto was even in his dorm but you knocked regardless. as soon as you knocked, your heart begun to pound inside of your chest and you began to spiral again. what about he wasn’t in? what if he WAS in? what about this was too much? what about-

the door opened, todoroki was greeted by you, holding a mini bouquet of paper tulips in one hand and a letter in the other. his heart must’ve skipped a few beats. your eyes were a bit red, he assumed from crying and your hair was a bit messy but he couldn’t help notice how beautiful you were.

“uh. hi.” you said awkwardly, causing todoroki to come back to reality. “i made this as an apology for earlier- i was. i was out of order for what i said and i’m sorry so yeah. now that i’m here i feel like it was a bit much-” mentally you were kicking yourself, since when did you ramble like this? however, your rambling was cut off by the todoroki pulling you in for a hug. that’s when it hit you. you were crushing on shoto todoroki. his arms clung onto your waist and yours around his neck, your bodies pressed up against each other. your bodies melting into one another with both of your temperatures rising by the second. as your head was pressed up against his chest, his heart sung loudly and irregularly, a similar tune to your own. though, you didn’t want to let go but pulled away so you could give him what you had made. tears were brimming your eyes already and before you burst out into tears you whispered a thank you. leaving todoroki behind again his request for you on the tip of his tongue.

5 weeks later and you’re back to your usual self. the only evidence of the night happening was your handmade flowers in a makeshift vase on shoto’s bedside table. on your desk, aizawa had placed your test scores from last week on your desk. as you picked up your test and held it close to your chest, shielding it from any peering eyes (denki.), you turned around to face todoroki with a look of determination etched into your features. luckily, todoroki hadn’t touched his test yet, or even looked at it, it seemed.

“ hello y/n.” he greeted.

“ i need to know what you got on your test scores.”

“ah, i see.” he copied your previous motion, becoming used to the ritual you guys had formed after test season, sliding the test scores towards him and holding the sheets close to him. carefully, he peered at the first one, “ i got 94 for english.” truthfully, your fingers had been crossed for any extra bit of any luck you could snag before seeing your results despite the tests already being marked. after a deep breath in and a quick prayer to the divine gods who had paired you with todoroki in hero training, you looked at your english paper.

“94. as well,” a tiny sigh of relief that it wasn’t worse than todoroki’s, you trudged on. “ for general sciences, i got 98-96-84…” chemistry had always been your worst science and you were surprised you had even gotten that high to begin with.

“ well done. i got,” todoroki peered at his paper again, hair falling into his eyes once more. an unexpected laugh escaped his lips, one quickly masked with a slight cough “ i got 99-79-90.” even todoroki had a weakness too, physics. ultimately, your total scores still added up to be the same so this was your tiebreaker - maths. beads of sweat began to formulate on your head, muscles tense, breathing heavy.

you peered down at your results…

“okay… i got 100? I GOT 100?? I GOT 100!” you squealed, erupting with excitement. maths wasn’t your weakest however, it’s the only subject you hadn’t 1) gotten a 100 in and 2) beaten todoroki in.

“congrats,” his eyes softened, a familiar warm feeling returned to him, one that he couldn't quite place. your smile was contagious, enough to bring a noticeable smile on his own face too. once he had peeked at his results, a clear, thick cloud of darkness appeared on his face. in contrast, he had barely even passed this exam, let alone done well enough to face you as a rival. gradually, during your reveal, you had moved closer to todoroki, enough to tap him on the shoulder and bring him back to reality.

“ soooo, what’d you get?” you asked inquisitively. shoto ignored the heat rushing to his face from the sudden contact from you. 

“ 54.” shoto replied, much blunter than he had expected, “i barely passed that exam.” doing your best to hide the smug expression on your face, you asked him how he got that in the first place. as he skimmed through his paper, all you could do was look at his face. it was a new expression, frustration evident in his face with his hands running through his hair. even while he was frustrated, he was utterly beautiful. another chuckle erupted from his mouth, one that he covered up quickly with a cough. “i completely learnt this concept wrong so it messed up the foundation for all of these,” he said, showing you the paper. skimming through it, you were able to pick up on the errors he made, mostly silly mistakes and a misunderstanding of the content. still, you were so surprised you had beaten THE shoto todoroki. 

“i guess you win this time,” he said, shuffling the papers to hand back to mr aizawa, who was now making his way around the room. “ but don’t get too complacent just because you beat me.” your competitive spirit, though never gone, was ignited once again.

5 weeks and 4 days and you’re inside todoroki’s room for the first time. he insisted you help him learn the maths he couldn’t get whilst you were strongly advising momo to be a much better help. determined, he convinced you to help him and here you were in front of his dorm once again.

shoto welcomed you in with a smile and showed you to your seat. the walls were mainly bare (other than one all might poster which you guessed was a gift from midoriya) and a sage green, that being the only pop of colour in the whole room. it was a tight space just like the rest of your dorms but he utilised the space well, with no unnecessary clutter. his blinds were open letting in the golden light from the sun’s peak which kissed his living space leaving a warm feel to the whole room. everything was tidy, notebooks, novels all stacked neatly upon one another. you weren’t incredibly surprised by the state of his room however your eyes widened slightly at the sight of your dishevelled flowers from a couple of weeks ago. they were slightly more crumpled than when you had first gifted them to him, however they still had their shape and were arranged nicely in a vase on his bedside table alongside a photo with who you assumed were his two siblings. 

“you kept these?” you asked softly.  he hummed in response whilst trying to set up the last of what you’d need for your upcoming study session. 

“is it a problem?” he countered, picking up the final of the textbooks and placing them onto the desk. you shook your head in response, positioning yourself to the left side of todoroki. 

“not at all. i was just surprised you kept them, that's all.”

“why wouldn’t i?” 

“i mean,” you hesitated. “i kinda thought it was a bit much.” you laughed awkwardly, todoroki’s intense gaze encouraging you to keep going. you continued as you looked away, searching for the page number. “communication has never really been my thing so. i get a bit weird sometimes, especially during exams.” far past the page you needed, you kept flicking through it, “i know you never actually consented to being my rival or anything so i get it if you think i’m a bit weird for it. and that if you’d rather not be my friend or be part of the rival thing. it is a bit childish.” having reached the end of the textbook and the end of your willingness to open up anymore, the both of you sat in silence.

his brow furrowed and not sure what to do, he sat with you. flicking through the textbook you were fidgeting with before. he pressed his leg up against you and gave you an affirmative nod. “i’m not sure what to say but i do enjoy being your rival. you motivate me, l/n.” a melodic tune erupted in your chest, a sound that was becoming commonplace when near your said rival. 

“alright! let’s get started!”

6 weeks and 2 days since you had picked up his water bottle and the u.a hero course was on their way to a field trip out in the country. the skies had cleared up, sun rays beaming and the semester over, high morale filled your class. there, you would train with the wild wild pussy cats and learn different techniques to hone your abilities. their focus on mountain rescue was sure to be helpful in increasing your quirk’s capabilities as well as your general knowledge of different terrains. you were excited to say the least, todoroki (who was your assigned partner for this trip also) had been hearing all about it from you and your friend ochaco. the bus ride was smooth sailing for the most part. as you gawked out the window admiring the blurs of emerald, royal blue and yellows, occasionally pointing out a pretty flower to your seat partner, todoroki. 2 hours passed in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, your class was filing out of the bus to be greeted by the beloved pro heroes. 

something was amiss. with no camp insight, your peers quickly tried to run back onto the bus but were quickly met with the rumbling of the earth beneath them which catapulted them (and you) off of the cliff and down into the forest beneath you. 

“if you’re lucky and get there by 12.30, you’ll get lunch!” yelled the blonde pro-hero gleefully as you and your classmates fell to your doom.

panic erupted between you and your friends, you clamoured together as you were met with earth-composed beasts. suddenly, everything clicked. your class fell into formation and you ploughed your way through the forest in record time. 

record time being 5.20PM meaning everyone had missed lunch by a long shot. sweat drowsed your uniform that covered your aching muscles as heavy breathing filled the air. shoto helped you carry your suitcase to your shared room with mina, ochaco and the rest of the girls. the room was small but cozy, enough bunk beds for everyone and enough space to fit everyone’s stuff. you and shoto made your way to the dining room where everyone was already devouring their hard-earned food. the both of you slipped into easy conversation about hero-work and the future whilst enjoying the amazing food the heroes had prepared for your class. dinner came and went and after a long, warm shower, you felt rejuvenated and ready to tackle anything.

the next day was an early one. the alarm went off at 5.00am and it was a race against the clock to be out and done by 5.30am.

“has anyone seen my charger??” jirou called out, tsu trying her best to untangle the cords whilst she was straightening her hair.

“ i haven’t,” mina replied, applying her mascara on “does anyone have a spare p.e kit i could borrow?”

“i’m so exhausted,” momo said, trying to muffle the sounds and delve back into her peaceful dreamland.

last night was amazing. after the hot springs, you and the rest of the girls decided to stay up a little later, catching up with each other and discussing other summer plans. “soo, how about you and todoroki?” mina said, raising her eyebrows playfully. a chorus of ‘ooooo’s erupted from the rest of your girlfriends whilst you did your best to wave them off. 

“there’s nothing going on between us.” you said, gaining a few ‘aww’s this time from the audience. “i like him but as far as i can tell, it’s one sided.”

“well, you must be blind.” mina shrugged, pulling the covers over her head. “ i think it’s best we get some sleep.” she said, cutting you off before giving you time to process what she had meant with her comment..

after last night and a chaotic morning, you were once again drained and unprepared to face the morning of what you knew would be extensive quirk training. however, you powered through it till the end. after a quick shower and getting ready for dinner, you bumped into a familiar dual hair coloured boy. 

“todoroki!” you called out, signalling for him to come next to you, having barely seen him all day due to your focus on quirk training. still as pretty as ever you thought to yourself as todoroki talked a bit about his new quirk regime. he was more animated since you had first began talking to him and now that you were off school - you didn’t see him as much as your rival but a good friend. shoto cleared you in all aspects when it came to ability so you found it helpful when talking to him about his quirk and how it could be applied to your own. you loved how he articulated his words and how he made complicated concepts seem simple. you loved the way he began to use his hands when passionate about certain things and how deeply thoughtful he was. 

the pro heroes had left you and your peers to your own devices when cooking your own dinner today - katsu curry and it was a sight to behold. you were in charge of preparing the vegetables. however, your kryptonite was anything to do with the kitchen - you were absolutely awful. carefully, you inserted the knife slowly into the carrots whilst your kitchen partner, bakugo skillfully cut the vegetables in record time. 

“woah bakugo, you’re so good with that knife, it’s weirdddd.” uraraka said in passing hoisting campfire wood in her arms. 

“WHAT’D YOU SAY TO ME?” bakugo shouted whilst still cutting the rest of the vegetables to precision. 

irked by bakugo’s excellence, you tried your best to mimic the speed of your cutting counterpart. and for the most part it was going well until you heard your name being called out by your crush. your focus had been lost, causing you to slice your finger causing it to ooze out blood, quickly you pulled your hand from the knife and began to shake as a feeble attempt to soothe the pain. you cried out in pain as you began to try and find the nearest first aid kit, shoto felt a pang of guilt through his chest as rushed over to help you.

truthfully, it wasn’t that big of a deal. you were a hero in training and this was definitely on the lower end of pain you had experienced under u.a’s care. it still hurt like crazy though. shoto was careful around you, more so than usual you thought. another side of him you hadn’t seen before. he ushered you the taps so you could prevent any form of infection happening whilst he rushed to get plasters from iida. the both of you were sat on a bench in a secluded area that was quite a bit away from the boisterous cheer of your classmates. where you were was quiet, secluded, intimate. an experience that you hadn’t been in before. todoroki’s sole focus was on your injury though you had insisted it was quite alright. he had urged otherwise which was how you landed in this predicament. 

shoto’s hands entangled in yours. his heavy breathing and laser focus on getting the bandage placement just right. never had your feeling been so warm, it was burning you from the inside out, hotter than your desire to beat him, hotter than anything you had ever felt before. you sat up a little straighter causing shoto to unravel the bandage. 

“sorry-” you both said at the same time. your eyes locked with one another and for a moment it felt as though you had fallen deep inside of his. you quickly pulled yourself out of it, looking away first. 

the sound of the summer leaves swaying together whilst the birds sang an evening lullaby accompanied your shoujo-esque scene. “my sister taught me how to cook,” todoroki started, having not broken his unwavering gaze. “she’s amazing at what she does. she’s a teacher now too.” he said proudly, looking at the sunset. the warm hues of orange, pink and violet swirled together in the sky and both of you fell into a comfortable silence. 

“todoroki, i want to tell you something but promise you won’t laugh.” his ears perked up as he turned to face you once again. a sudden wave of confidence overcame you and as you were about to respond, confess even, you heard a familiar voice.

“ STOP FLIRTING AND GET OVER HERE.” mina called out, loud enough everyone in a 500 mile radius could’ve heard. shoto closes the first aid kit, accidentally brushing his hand against yours again. if you weren’t already flushed, you had to be now. all of your prior confidence melting away from you by the second and that hot burning feeling, simmered down into something manageable. he wondered what you were going to tell him but inferred that you were back to your usual self. doing your best to ignore the familiar feeling growing in your chest, you started up a conversation - one that you both fall back into effortlessly. 

as you arrive, you’re informed that all of you will be partaking in a haunted horror game around the woods. you’re paired off with both todoroki and bakugo due to the uneven numbers from the students off at extra classes. bakugo walked in front of you both muttering about not wanting to see ‘lovey dovey shit’ and that you both should ‘die or confess’ otherwise he’d puke. ignoring him, shoto’s eyes lit up as he told you a bit about his childhood and how ever since he was young, horror movies had been his favourite. when he asked if you were into horror, you simply shook your head in response as you hated it. the occasional blood curdling screams did not help your fears whatsoever. shoto held out his hand and you took it giving it a squeeze. bakugo came to a halt, causing the both of you to follow suit. 

there was a head poking out the ground. there was a head poking out the ground. her eyes were hollow and deeply sunken to the back of her head. she was paler than snow and her hair was as black as charcoal. she was ghastly.  you joined the other screams to create a harmonious choir of horror whilst putting off your other two teammates. apologising, the three of you kept moving so you could complete the route before bakugo’s bedtime which he insisted he didn’t have.

 “i didn’t know you were actually scared of horror.” todoroki chuckled, amused by your earlier reaction.

“i did say, didn’t i?” you replied, embarrassed. “and besides, i can barely handle movie horror let alone seeing a girl’s head pop out of the ground.” frustrated, kicking at the ground. your reply only caused todoroki to let out a fit of laughter. an unexpected one at that. bakugo turned around and scowled at the both of you, becoming crankier the closer the time approached his bedtime. his laugh didn’t get any less attractive, the more times you heard. in fact, quite the opposite. the way his hands clutched his sides and his eyes crinkled, you were star struck. if cupid hadn’t already struck your heart, this was the final blow. you joined in with his laughter to the point both of you were hysterically laughing and trying to stifle it. the both of you had taken mental screenshots of the moment, carved one another’s laughs into your minds. however, everytime bakugo yelled at you to keep it down, it only restarted it. that’s when your familiar feeling grew, it became something bigger, something you no longer had any control over. the same burning feeling that overcame you on the bench earlier.

a creeping foul odour had begun to infiltrate the air. over the past couple of minutes, a deep mauve mist had clouded the air. catching on, your teammates also covered their lower faces to minimise the inhaling of the putrid gas. bakugo had made the call to keep going in the direction you were headed back to camp and both of you followed suit. the screams that had filled the air prior had stopped, an uncomfortable silence filled it instead. 

something was amiss. 

the silence was pierced by a mumbling sound, a constant one at that. as you the three of you approached the noise, a man with his limbs strapped tightly to his torso, drowsed in black turned to face you. the upper half of his face was covered, tightly sworn off though you could make your deep holes due to the tightness of dark fabric. with a dry throat, slowly you began to approach the man, on-guard for what was to come. both of your friends had joined you, edging towards the mysterious figure.

a rush of ice sped right past you creating a barrier of sorts. this man had teeth and many of them. some short and some long and thin. they were mangled. panic consumed you, unsure of what to do. your teammates were much more equipped for the fight but even bakugo was rendered useless due to his quirk and the forest environment.

but you were doing your best, to help out, to help your class, to help your country. however, maybe your best wasn’t enough or your best wasn’t appreciated by the gods as an agonising pain pierced through your lower abdomen, copious amounts of blood matching your pain. 

“y/n!” todoroki yelled, his voice strained. 

you did your best to muster up a response to which you were met with a sharp, piercing pain that rang throughout your whole body. as he saw your face contort with movements you were once able to do just an hour ago, he felt a deep pang in his chest. “todoroki,” your voice coming out no louder than a whisper. “ i need you.” your final words as you passed out.

the fight ended soon after you passed out. the next couple of hours were a blur for todoroki, the vanguard action squad had been beaten temporarily however your injury consumed him. he had been tasked to carry you back safely after cauterising your injury, apologising profusely whilst he sealed your bleed out. 

peacefully, you laid in his arms, quiet and still. he thought about what he could’ve done time and time again to prevent the injury from ever happening. if he had only been more diligent, if he had helped out more, if he had just said something. all of these ruminating emotions were evident on his face all the way back to the hospital, he had reverted back to his quiet self, the most he spoke was about your injury to the doctor when he was checking you in. the doctors assured him that you would be okay, that it might take a while for you to wake up so it was best for him to go home. and so he did.

he went back to dorm life and waited.

he tried his best to integrate back into dorm life, it had been 7 weeks and 3 days since you had picked up his water bottle. it was one his dad had bought him as a gift - something about being the best in the business, the water bottle that could really enhance his quirk. something stupid and trivial. but you picked it up for him so he’d attached it to you. and your face and your smile and your intelligence and your grace and- 

that was when it hit him. a cold afternoon after classes had been resumed the day before. that he didn’t want a life without you, a life where your rivalry wasn’t there, a life where he couldn’t make you laugh or smile. a life where you only existed in his memories. during the past week, he had been updated about your condition from your other classmates that went to visit. he couldn’t bring himself to see you, not when you weren’t awake. bakugo had given him an earful about it on many occasions since the rest of the class had all been back in dorms. 

“has anyone else come to see me?” you asked, fiddling with one of the many “get well soon!” cards you had gotten from your friends and family. 

“nope.” mina replied. “i told todoroki he should come and visit you but he got all weird about it. he’s been so quiet lately. you need to hurry up and get better so he becomes normal again.” she sighed. you warmed up at the sound of todoroki’s name. you ignored how mina caught on to your not-so-obvious way of asking if he had came to see you yet but were completely intrigued by your answer. truthfully, you thought todoroki had forgotten about you or better yet, thought you were a burden of some kind and refused to see you. 

mina had given you the rundown of what she knew about what happened, though she didn’t know much as she had been stuck in the remedial course. “i just think it’s high time, you confessed y/n.” she squeezed your hand. “ i mean, god forbid but you could’ve died. and. i.. i just don’t want you having any regrets, you know? hero life is tough and it’ll only get tougher from here so live a little!” 

later that evening, you had one final visitor. you were fast asleep, deep in your own subconscious and though the doctors had advised him to go home, he assured he wouldn’t take long. 

shoto saw you again for the first time in a week or so, quiet and still like the last he saw you. most of the colour had returned to your face and you looked as beautiful as you did then as well as all the times you had before. he had white tulips in his left hand and a long note written in the other, he led the tulips on your bedside table which was overflowing with an assortment of gifts and cards. he sat quietly beside you with the sound of your light breathing and the slow, rhythmic tick of the clock to accompany him.

“i promise you that when you’re awake, the first thing i’ll do is tell you that i like you. your eyes, your smile, your everything.”

8 weeks.

today, you were being transferred from the main hospital to recovery girl’s room for the last bit of your recovery. the injury had affected specific areas of your quirk which needed professional care to not mess any potential growth in the future. after you had woken up from the last hospital, most of your stuff had already been packed up though tulips and a note (which definitely weren’t there before) met you when you woke up. you opened the letter to see a quick note scrawled onto it, “text me when you wake up, todoroki.”. a bit ominous, you thought but your curiosity was peaked. 

before you had the chance to shoot a text to todoroki, you were ushered into the car back to u.a and now were in recovery girl’s room. hours later, you pulled out your phone and shot a quick text to him. 

you : hey, just got your note!! i’m in recovery girl’s room now as i’m well enough now. i think i’ll be in classes soon too!! hope u haven’t gotten lazy, i’m gonna have an academic comeback with all the content i’ve missed 😜

ping! todoroki picked up his phone ditching his attempt to study maths on his own. he had been catastrophizing the whole morning, unsure of if the note and tulips were a bit much or if you had just decided to ignore his note, thankfully you hadn’t.

 shoto : i’m “on the grind” as you call it lol. i’m coming in 10. stay awake please.

shoto threw on the nearest jumper he could find and made his way towards recovery girl’s room.

there were 3 light knocks at recovery girl’s door. 4 minutes had passed since he had sent you that text, your mind coming up with all types of scenarios - many that you thought were delusional. recovery girl was currently on her lunch break so you took the liberty of opening the door and lo and behold, shoto todoroki was stood before you. slightly dishevelled, his laces undone and slightly out of breath.

for a moment, you both took each other in. he pulled you into a hug. one similar to the previous hug you had shared, it felt as though it lasted forever and no time at all simultaneously. he pulled away first from the warm embrace with his hands placed firmly on your upper arms and for the first time in weeks looked at you with the same lovestruck eyes. 

“i like you. and i missed you. and your smile and your face and you.” a breathlessness still present in his voice.

oh. 

oh.

and if it wasn’t already crystal clear to you before, the current reality had been shattered and rebuilt for you once more from the gods above. 

speechless. you looked at him with an ‘o’ expression plastered on your face. “ i missed you too.” you managed, pulling todoroki back into an embrace. “and i like you too.”

epilogue. 

12 weeks after you had picked up his bottle and you were back into class and everything had smoothed into a new normal.

summer came and went, with fall on the horizon and the start of the second semester which meant a new finals season was upon class 1-a. 

“no way you beat me?????” you groaned, running your hands through your hair. your maths test had a solid 92 on it but your boyfriend had managed a perfect 100.

“i guess i did.” a smug smile spreading across his face which prompted a pout to form on yours. “don’t be mad y/n.” he cooed.

“i’m not.” you said flatly, beginning to turn back to your seat. shoto stopped you in your tracks placing a light peck on your cheek. heat rushed up to your face causing yourself to cover your face. 

“better luck next time.” shoto said with an evident smile clear across his face, a smile you would never get tired of seeing.

a/n : i'm so glad i've finished this oml. i feel like i could've added more buttttt i was getting tired of this fic tbh so it's shorter than i intended. hope you liked it. reblogs, notes and comments all appreciated. requests are open!!

[vaguely-concerned]

Silly Garashir ficlet, Teen and Up-ish, mostly banter! CW: copious amounts of blood but like. Purely in a comedy capacity (don’t worry none of it is Garak’s)

“Good god,” Julian breathed, unable to do anything but stare for a moment. 

“Oh, don’t worry, none of this is mine,” Garak said, dripping puddles of crimson onto the floor, calm blue eyes the only thing peeking out from the solid layer of blood covering his face and upper torso. “The gravest injury has been to my wardrobe, I assure you. As you might have gathered, I encountered our suspected evildoer as they sought to make their escape.”

“From the looks of things, I’d hazard it’s more accurate to say that they encountered you,” Julian said. He shook himself out of his momentary petrification and raised the medical tricorder to make sure Garak’s reports of being unharmed hadn’t been greatly exaggerated, as would sometimes be the case with him. 

“However you would prefer to frame it,” Garak said, dipping his chin modestly and blinking globs of blood from his eyelashes. “I’m sorry to say I couldn’t ascertain many details about them, neither in terms of species or other identifying details. They were masked and coming at me with a knife at the time, which in the moment tends to blot out other considerations in one’s mind.”

Despite himself, Julian grinned at the performative airiness of Garak’s tone. He did seem to be basically fine. “I think that’s understandable under the circumstances, Garak. Odo’s probably going to track them down pretty quick, if they’re leaving a trail of blood across the station. Do you, er… want a handkerchief or something?” 

“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think that’s going to do the job in this case.”  

“No,” Julian had to admit, “no, you’re — probably right. I’ll let you go for a thorough sonic and peace and quiet once I’m done with this. I’m sure Odo will want a word with you later, though.”

Garak parted his lips to say something, and grimaced. “Ugh. Well, if it’s any help in figuring out the identity of our culprit, that’s definitely the taste of Napean blood. As you mentioned there will of course also likely be other clues, like them bleeding profusely as they sprint across the Promenade, but I always strive to be helpful wherever I can.” 

“Garak!” Julian yelped, shooting him an alarmed look and continuing his inspection of the tricorder readings with renewed worry. 

“Hm? Yes? You can run whatever tests you want on it to be sure, of course, but I am quite certain in my conclusion. There is a… distinctive tang to —”

“That’s so medically unsafe, you can’t go around ingesting —” 

“Well, I hardly meant to ingest anything, Doctor, but it did end up all over my person in a way that makes it hard to entirely avoid,” Garak snapped, though he tolerated Julian going in for a second, even more thorough examination without complaint. “Maybe if this person hadn’t so rudely insisted on venting the contents of their arteries straight into my face during our tussle — ”

“Yes, yes, I understand, sorry, I wasn’t suggesting you did it on purpose or anything, but it does mean I really do need to monitor you for any allergic reactions or bloodborne… wait, wait, hang on, how do you even know what Napean blood — ”

Smiling in a way that aimed for beatific and missed it by way of too many bared teeth, in a manner that would probably be quite unsettling if Julian wasn’t so used to (so fond of, whispered a treacherous little voice in the back of his head) Garak’s face, Garak dabbed daintily at the worst of the blood dripping off his nose with his sleeve and said: “Do you really want to know, or is this your outsized curiosity running ahead of your better judgment again?”

“I’m going to be wondering about it all night, but no, I don’t think I want to know, actually. If I come back in a week and still can’t put it out of my mind, feel free to tell me, though. Or use that time to come up with a good story, I don’t mind.”

“Never any but the best for you, my friend,” Garak said fondly.