#sad eye

[whereslynx]

Can you make a smut one with yn and sad eyes are dating secretly and yn being cesar and oscars sister?

a/n: we love the secret relationships. 🤭 quick reminder, i’ll get to everyone’s requests soon! exams may delay the speed, but i’ll get it done!

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The night was quiet, only the low rumble of distant traffic and the occasional siren cutting through the stillness of your block. You leaned against the brick of the railing on your front porch, staring down at the street that was empty for now. Freeridge wasn't usually this quiet, especially with your brothers, Oscar and Cesar, running things. Even the house, which had seen its fair share of chaos, marked tonight as an exception. Both of them were out handling business, leaving you with the rare luxury of solitude.

Or at least, that's what you thought.

But you should've known better by now. You had company. Someone who always found his way back to you, even when you weren't looking for it.

Sad Eyes.

He was leaning against the wall a few feet away, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking from you to the empty street and back. His presence wasn't loud, but it was impossible to ignore. There was something about the way he carried himself, like he didn't have to say much to get his point across. His eyes, dark and intense, had always drawn you in, even before things had gotten complicated.

Months ago, you hadn't expected this. At first, it was innocent-a few conversations here and there, his occasional visits to see Oscar and Cesar. You had been nothing more than your brothers' little sister to him. But somewhere along the line, those late-night talks turned into something more.

The glances lingered. The moments grew longer. And soon enough, you were sneaking around, meeting in the shadows, exchanging secret touches and stolen kisses, knowing full well the mess you were playing with.

Oscar and Cesar were protective, to put it lightly. They didn't let just anyone get close to you, and Sad Eyes? He was one of the last people they'd ever approve of. Not because he wasn't good enough, hell, he was family in the Santos, practically a brother to them. But precisely because he was too close. Too dangerous. And if they found out about the two of you, there'd be no talking your way out of it.

"How long we gonna keep sneakin' around like this, mami?" Sad Eyes' voice cut through the quiet, low and rough, like he was speaking a truth he'd been holding back for too long. He didn't move from where he stood, but the intensity in his gaze made it feel like he was already right next to you.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. "What, you scared of Oscar and Cesar now?" The words came out light, but there was no denying the weight behind them.

He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound almost lost in the night air.

"Ain't scared of 'em," he muttered, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer to you. His hands stayed in his pockets, but the shift in his stance, the way his body angled toward yours, sent a shiver down your spine. "But let's be real. This shit's more than what we said it'd be, right?"

The question hit harder than you expected. You both knew this thing had started off casual—just a distraction, a way to pass the time. But that was before. Before the secret meetings felt like they meant something. Before his touch lingered too long, or before the way he looked at you made your heart race in a way you couldn't ignore.

Now it was something else.

Something you couldn't easily walk away from. And that scared you more than you wanted to admit.

"We agreed," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate balance between you.

"No one needs to know. Not yet."

Sad Eyes took another step closer, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand slipped out of his pocket and found your waist, his fingers curling around you in a way that felt possessive, like he was holding onto something he wasn't willing to let go of. "Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I'm feelin' it," he said, his voice lower now, rougher, as his thumb brushed lightly against your side. "I'm tired of actin' like I don't want more."

The admission hung between you like a weight, heavy and undeniable. His words made your heart race, not just because of what he was saying but because deep down, you wanted more too. But there were things in the way— things you couldn't ignore, no matter how much you wanted to.

"You know what'll happen if they find out," you murmured, looking up at him, your voice barely holding together. "Cesar and Oscar—they won't take this lightly. You know how they are."

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips, but there was something serious in his eyes.

"They'll have to deal with it," he said, his tone both playful and firm. "Ain't nobody keepin' me from you. Not them. Not anyone."

His confidence was intoxicating, and as much as you tried to remind yourself of the risks, it was hard to care when he looked at you like that. You felt the tension between you two building with every word, every touch. It had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was rising, threatening to spill over.

He stepped even closer, his forehead brushing against yours.

"But for now," he murmured, his voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine, "we keep this our secret."

You laughed softly, though the sound was more out of nervous excitement than anything else.

"We've been good at that so far," you whispered, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It matched your own, fast and full of adrenaline.

"For now," he agreed, and his lips were on yours before you could say anything else.

The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, like he was savoring it.

You could feel the restraint in the way his hands held you, firm but gentle, like he was reminding himself to take it easy. But there was nothing easy about the way your heart pounded in your chest, or the way your body pressed against his, craving more.

As the kiss deepened, the tension that had been building between you for months finally snapped.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as his lips moved against yours with a hunger you hadn't felt before.

Everything about this was dangerous-every kiss, every touch. But in that moment, it didn't matter. The risk, the secrecy, the potential fallout-it all faded away, leaving just the two of you, alone in the night, hidden from the world.

His hands started to slide lower, fingers grazing the curve of your hips as the kiss grew more intense. You could feel the tension building again, the heat between you rising, and you knew exactly where this was headed.

Your hands brushed through his hair, whilst his desperately tried to pull you closer as if you weren’t skin to skin. Almost like he yearned for your souls to intertwine as one, ensuring that you’d be closer to him beyond flesh. Because he needed you beyond flesh.

“Ant—Antonio,” You moaned in between kisses as he held you against the wall of your home, hungrily switching from your mouth to placing kisses along your jaw. “Hm?” He hummed in response, too busy putting his lips to work on your neck to talk. “Inside.” You managed to mutter under the adrenaline that rushed through your body.

The heat between you and Sad Eyes only intensified as you guided him inside the house, both of you eager for more privacy and the chance to explore each other further. The moment you reached your bedroom, it was like a dam had burst, and all the pent-up desire and passion flooded between you.

Sad Eyes wasted no time, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched your own. The air was heavy with anticipation as he backed you towards the bed, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, urging him closer as you felt the undeniable need building inside you. "Antonio," you breathed his name, the sound a plea and a promise all at once. He swore he felt every single part of his cock harden to the sound of his name in your mouth.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze, his own dark eyes burning with desire. "Tell me what you want," he growled, his voice rough with need, “Let me hear you say it.” His hands skimmed up your sides, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want you," you whispered, your voice filled with longing. "I want all of you."

With a primal hunger, Sad Eyes captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hands deftly working to rid you both of your clothes. The cool air of the room contrasted with the heat of your entwined bodies, adding to the intensity of the moment.

As you laid before him, bared to the soul, you felt a rush of desire like never before. Sad Eyes pressed you gently against the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he positioned himself above you, positioning his hardened cock against your slit. An almost smug smirk flashing across his lips when he felt how wet you were against his shaft.

He paused—Not in a way that halted the mood or the intense atmosphere, but in a way that allowed you to let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Can I, mami?” He rasped, his eyes low, coated with a hazed look that drove you insane. With a sharp inhale, you nodded.

“Please.”

He almost hissed at your pleading for him, his hand gently wrapping around your neck swiftly as he slowly thrusted inside of you, feeling your walls pulse around him as he let you adjust to his size.

The first touch of him inside of you yours sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, and you arched into him, seeking more.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained with desire. His lips found yours once more, claiming them in a fierce kiss as he guided himself into you, slowly and deliberately.

The sensation of him filling you left you breathless, a mix of pleasure and pain that only fueled the fire between you. Your bodies moved together in a primal dance, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

“Doing so fuckn’ good for me, baby,”. He rasped against your skin, letting you ease into the feeling of him inside of you because this definitely wouldn’t be the last time, “so, fucking, good.”

“I can’t—“ You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck as the unfamiliar overstimulation of your walls squeezing him inside sent shockwaves through your body. “You can, mami.” He breathed, thrusting himself in and out of you, “Together— We can do this together,” he groaned, your breaths getting heavier and heavier by each movement.

Moans and gasps filled the room, mixing with the sound of flesh meeting flesh in a symphony of passion. Sad Eyes moved with a relentless rhythm, his movements becoming faster and more urgent as you both chased release.

In the heat of the moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of desire and need. Your bodies moved as one, seeking completion in each other's embrace.

As the tension peaked, you felt a wave of pleasure crash over you, consuming you in its intensity. Sad Eyes followed soon after, his body trembling with the force of his own release.

Breathless and spent, you lay tangled together, the room filled with the echoes of your shared passion. In that moment, there were no secrets, no risks, only the two of you, bound together in a way that felt both dangerous and inevitable. And as you lay in each other's arms, the world outside faded away, leaving only the echo of your heartbeats as a reminder of the connection you shared.

Sad Eyes looked at you with a mix of tenderness and desire in his eyes, his gaze tracing the curve of your face as if committing every detail to memory. You felt a flutter in your chest at the intensity of his stare, the weight of his emotions palpable in the air between you.

Slowly, he reached out a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle and reverent. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through you, a silent reassurance of the connection you shared.

"You're something else, mami," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I never expected this... with you."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You could sense the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior, the part of him that craved connection and acceptance just as much as you did.

"I didn't expect it either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm glad it happened."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, softening the hard lines of his face. In that moment, he looked almost boyish, a glimpse of the person he might have been if not for the harsh realities of his life.

The room was filled with a quiet intimacy, the sounds of your breathing mingling in the space between you. It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting glimpse of something deeper and more profound than just physical desire.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you. But for now, in that quiet moment of peace and contentment, all that mattered was the here and now, the warmth of Sad Eyes' body beside you, and the unspoken promise of what could be.

[hellsitegenetics]

WHY ARE YOU MARKED RED ON SHINIGAMI, WTF DID U DO

i cant even post moths anymore. because of woke

[my-darling-boy]

I was at a bookstore looking through the art section and I saw a spine that said The Camden Town Nudes which was interesting because this didn’t seem like the bookstore where I would ever find something like that and I wanted to have a casual look but like. This also wasn’t exactly the bookstore where you felt like you could look at naked pictures let alone just suggestive paintings of them, it’s a really small shop as well, so I was like right I’ll just take a quick peek, I’m an art student, I love history, maybe I’ll buy it. I looked both ways and saw the shopkeep had left momentarily and no one was about, so I opened it and found it was an entire book featuring nude Edwardian women all painted by Walter Sickert between 1905-1912 and it was actually quite a revolutionary set of paintings for its time given that it featured very raw depictions of working class nude women in dark London instead of the elegant, white bedsheet clad, Demure middle and upper class women usually depicted.

And of course RIGHT as I flip to this lady’s boobs practically taking up an entire double page spread, every customer in a 5 mile radius appeared from around the corners of the shelf including the shopkeep and immediately regressing to a wet, pathetic Edwardian man from 1908, startled, I dropped the large book which caused a giant SLAP on the floor in this already silent store thus causing all patrons to look down at me scrambling on my knees to close a giant book of Edwardian boobs and let me tell you it would not have been nearly as funny had I not immediately felt like some Edwardian local pervert who just tried to sneak a cheeky peek at the erotic book in the bookstore only to drop it dramatically causing a scene, red up to his ears trying to shove it back on the shelf. Like such a casual and normal thing in modern day but looking at Edwardian women suddenly turned it into this egregious act as I apparently became possessed by the spirit of a moustached man in a bowler hat and morning coat going Good Heavens I mustn’t gaze upon these images in public lest the constable haul me away!

[stump-not-found]

i don't think the theraprism is a good thing, guys

[cowboybrunch]

i love when characters get angry when they're frightened. shelter dog characters. i love when they bite, not able to tell the difference between a hand that feeds and a hand that strikes. there is no difference. a hand is a hand is a fist. i love characters that are deemed unadoptable. unlovable.

and i love when someone loves them. i love when someone sits with them, patient. they don't flinch at the snarling and snapping. they're not trying to fix it—there's nothing to be fixed. this is you, all of you, and ill wait. because one day, one day you'll take the treat. go on, draw my blood. spit and curse and rage. you're safe with me. one day, you'll feel safe with me.

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[bryqe]

[polartss]

doodle (🥺)

[barghest-land]

your stitches are good, but not the best - your hands are twitching to the beat of your heart. but they're going to be perfect soon, whether you want them to be or not.

[demaparbat-hp]

She will (and he'll let her)

[blueboyluca]

“When I first heard it, from a dog trainer who knew her behavioral science, it was a stunning moment. I remember where I was standing, what block of Brooklyn’s streets. It was like holding a piece of polished obsidian in the hand, feeling its weight and irreducibility. And its fathomless blackness. Punishment is reinforcing to the punisher. Of course. It fit the science, and it also fit the hidden memories stored in a deeply buried, rusty lockbox inside me. The people who walked down the street arbitrarily compressing their dogs’ tracheas, to which the poor beasts could only submit in uncomprehending misery; the parents who slapped their crying toddlers for the crime of being tired or hungry: These were not aberrantly malevolent villains. They were not doing what they did because they thought it was right, or even because it worked very well. They were simply caught in the same feedback loop in which all behavior is made. Their spasms of delivering small torments relieved their frustration and gave the impression of momentum toward a solution. Most potently, it immediately stopped the behavior. No matter that the effect probably won’t last: the reinforcer—the silence or the cessation of the annoyance—was exquisitely timed. Now. Boy does that feel good.”

— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)

[stromblessed]

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

[seagiri]

can i be sad here for a moment

[starcurtain]

I think one of the funniest things about the Sabzeruz event is that the devs choose to go with Candace, Traveler, and Paimon having a whole "Ooh, two mysterious men are going into an alley to have a 'private' conversation; they must be bad guys!" only to then go "Oh just kidding, it was only Alhaitham and Kaveh doing typical Alhaitham and Kaveh things."

Except the "Alhaitham and Kaveh" thing in question this time was talking about Mehrak, a sentient robot that Kaveh built using absolutely forbidden technology, and which he then whole-heartedly willed would develop a consciousness of its own, violating one of the central taboos of his nation's governing agency, committing what amounts to an inherent and extreme felony punishable by law.

Alhaitham and Kaveh: Listen, we're not bad guys discussing illegal activity here. We're just two men having a private, personal conversation. Happens all the time.

Paimon, Candace, and Traveler: Oh cool, they're not doing a crime; they're just gay.

But they were, in fact, doing a crime.

[tazuransi]

yuri babysitting

[the-holy-ghosted]

Girls will say "this is my beautiful wife" and their beautiful wife is just a weird looking man