#said ‘you look cute in this’ was at an oddities shop in that outfit

[clingylilhoneybee]

🌿

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

Ooo I’d have to say it’s this one pair of black linen overalls that are nice and loose but hug me right in the ass. I wear it with lots of different tops underneath but my fav is during the colder fall time with this tight blue crop top

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Is Insecure

Warnings: mentions of insecurity surrounding body image, physical appearance, self-worth.

Lucifer

It was the day after a party Diavolo had thrown at his castle. You had had fun for the most part, dancing with the brothers and eating delicious foods prepared by Barbatos. 

But you also remembered how it had felt to look around the room and realize you were surrounded by gorgeous demons, not a single flaw on anyone’s face. Doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into your mind, and that feeling had carried over into the next day.

You had only talked briefly with Lucifer at the party because he was too busy interacting with Diavolo’s guests. Every time you tried to catch his eye, you noticed how beautiful whoever he was talking to was and found yourself swallowing down your greeting.

Currently Lucifer was at his desk like always, scribbling down notes and shuffling through papers. You brought him afternoon tea and sat reading in one of his armchairs to keep him company.

You had been telling yourself that you were going to ask him the question that was burning in your mind, but an hour had already passed since you first came in. You tried to distract yourself with your book but the words were fuzzy on the page. Finally, you spoke. “Luci?”

He didn’t look up from his desk when he answered, “Yes, love?”

“Do you... do you ever wish I was more beautiful?”

The scratching of his pen stopped immediately and Lucifer lowered the papers he was holding to show his face, a carefully blank expression revealing nothing. “What exactly do you mean by that question?”

“I mean exactly what I asked. Do you ever wish I was more beautiful? More attractive? As the Avatar of Pride have you ever been... embarrassed to be seen with me?”

At this Lucifer’s expression grew cold and furious. “Has someone... made you feel this way? Has someone made you feel as if you are inadequate?” You shook your head sadly and whispered, “No, just my own brain.”

“Ah, I see. Well pet, I don’t ever wish you were more beautiful because you are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. So it would be physically impossible for you to be more beautiful than you are now.”

You snorted. “Luci, that was so cheesy. Your brothers would throw up if they heard what you just said.” Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. And I do mean what I said. I’ve never once felt embarrassed to be with you; you are my pride, the source of my happiness. If anyone were to suggest otherwise, I would gladly kill them.”

“Luci, we’ve been over this. You can’t just kill everyone who is mildly rude to me.”

Lucifer went back to working on his papers but there was a gentle smile on his face. “Darling, you’ll find that I definitely can. I have a permit.”

Mammon

You were regretting tagging along to one of Mammon’s photo shoots. At first, it seemed like a fun idea getting to look at all the clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Plus, you really wanted to see what Mammon was like when he was working professionally. 

It was fun at first, you cooing over how handsome Mammon looked in his outfit and watching him get all flustered and blushy. But then the actual photoshoot started and you watched as Mammon posed with a stunning model.

You tried to not let your insecurities get the best of you. You were here to support Mammon! But as the shoot progressed you couldn’t help but start to compare yourself, keeping track of how they were more beautiful and you more flawed. 

The photographer stopped to take a break and Mammon immediately bounced over to you. “MC, did you see me? How does it feel to watch the Great Mammon in his natural element? I look good, don’t I?”

You caressed Mammon’s cheek and feigned a bright smile. “You were amazing Mammon! You look so handsome. And this is such a cool outfit!” But Mammon was somehow always able to tell when you were faking a good mood and he frowned. “MC, is something wrong? You look sad. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse ready on your lips, but found you couldn’t lie right to Mammon’s face. You gestured toward the model who was talking to their manager in the corner. “Do you ever wish I looked like that?”

Mammon cocked his head, confused. “Do I ever wish you had blue hair? Not particularly? Although now that I think about it, blue hair would look cool on you too.”

You sighed. “No, I mean do you ever wish I looked like a model? Sexier? Or prettier?” Mammon thought for a moment, processing your question, and then frowned. “Oh no no no. Treasure, what’s this all about? What happened?”

“Sorry Mams, I didn’t want to distract you while you’re working. I just got really low and insecure all of a sudden. Started thinking about how you should be with someone really beautiful, you know? And sometimes I feel like that’s not me.”

Clearly upset, Mammon rushed to give you a crushing hug, tucking your head underneath his chin. “MC I- I wish I could beam my thoughts into your head. That way you’d really believe me when I say that you’re so precious to me. Every day I wake up and think about how lucky I am to be with you.”

You chuckled a little. “I do put up a lot with you, don’t I.” Mammon gently smacked you on your back. “Hey! I’ve been good lately! But seriously MC, you are stunning. You are gorgeous. And it’s okay if you don’t believe me right now because- because I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to! I’ll tell you a thousand times a day! A million times!”

You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes and held onto Mammon even tighter. “Thanks Mams, I love you so much.”

“Love you too treasure. Your first man’s gonna take care of you, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Leviathan

Usually you liked watching anime with Levi; it was one of your favorite things to do together. Levi was always more happy and lively when watching with you because he was able to express his opinions freely without judgment. And you thought it was adorable how excited Levi got over his favorite characters and storylines.

Today, you were snuggled together on some cushions re-watching an episode of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl”. At first you were enjoying the episode, laughing as Ruri got used to the oddities of the human world. But Levi’s repeated comments about how cute Ruri-chan was, which you usually never minded, started to bother you a bit.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting Levi’s enormous collection of Ruri-chan posters, figurines, and other merch. Levi tapped you on the knee, interrupting your thoughts. “MC, you’re missing the best part! What are you looking at?”

You sighed a little, struggling to act nonchalant. “Sorry Levi, it’s nothing. I’m still watching.” Frowning, Levi paused the episode and turned to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you said “Levi, I’m not Ruri-chan.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Yes... I know?”

You continued, “I don’t look like Ruri-chan. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother me... that you don’t look like an anime character?” He repeated the question slowly, as if you had asked him the strangest question in the world.

Frustrated, you blurted out “I don’t look like Ruri-chan! I’m never going to be as cute as her!”

Levi looked completely bewildered, his eyes wide and staring at you in confusion. “B-But you are cute! MC, w-what are you even talking about?” 

Embarrassed at your outburst you looked down at the floor silently. Levi scooted over toward you so that your knees were touching and he waited until you broke the silence. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m good enough. I think maybe you’d like it if I looked cuter or acted cuter, like the characters in anime.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before quickly grabbing onto your hand, blushing furiously as he did so. "MC, I-I already think you're c-cute. Really really cute. So don't say things like that. And also, I like you because you're you! Not because you're like someone else."

"And you make me really happy. I'm just a gross otaku. I never thought I'd be able to... to find someone like you. Someone who accepts me."

He tried to lock eyes with you but blushed even harder and stared at your joined hands. "Plus, I couldn't to-touch an anime character. But I can touch you. I can hold your hand or give you hugs whenever you need it, o-okay?"

You leaned your head onto Levi's shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the peaceful silence wash over you.

Satan

You were accompanying Satan on a trip to one of his favorite stores: an antique shop that sold all manner of rare books and artifacts. The owner, Ms. Sparrow, was a friend of Satan’s and she welcomed the two of you wholeheartedly.

Today, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. Her chic pearl dress and matching silk gloves shone against her dark skin. Not a curl in her hair was out of place and even the click-clack of her heels on the floor seemed melodious somehow.

You left Satan to look at the books and went wandering off into the various aisles of the store, marveling at all the bits and bobs. In one of the over-stuffed corners you happened to find a glittering silver key on a red velvet ribbon. Taking it in your hand, you went back through to show it off to Satan, wanting to ask him what he thought it opened.

But Satan was busy chatting and laughing with Ms. Sparrow. You watched the two of them for a moment and noticed how well they complimented each other. Both had a certain poise, a kind of confidence and certainty in their movements.

On your walk back to the dorms, you were unusually quiet and Satan noticed. “Pet, is something the matter?”

You hesitated, wondering if Satan was going to find your insecurity childish. “Satan, I’m not very....elegant.”

“Yes, I know. You choked on a piece of bread yesterday. The day before that you tripped over absolutely nothing and fell down.” He smiled, expecting for you to get riled up, but it fell when he saw that you looked dejected. “Love, what is the matter? Have I upset you?”

You avoided his gaze. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if I bring you down by being with you. I feel like you deserve someone elegant and sophisticated. Someone who matches you. But I’m not. I’m clumsy and messy and not perfect, like Ms. Sparrow.”

Satan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ms. Sparrow? What does she have anything to with this?” He turned you around so that you were facing him. “Pet, please look at me. I love you. And I’m not with you in spite of you being clumsy or messy. I love you because you’re clumsy and messy, because those are parts of you and I love all of you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “And why would I need someone perfect? Am I perfect? Yesterday you saw me screaming at my cup because I accidentally spilled some tea and burned my finger.”

You shrugged while giggling, “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.” You wrapped your arms around his and buried your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Satan. You always know how to make me feel better.”

He reached down to give you a gentle kiss. “Anytime, love. I’m always here for you.”

Asmodeus

Asmo has a lot of fans across all his social media accounts. That was made perfectly clear the first time you went on a date with him outside. Sitting in the trendy coffeeshop, several people had come up to ask him for a picture or an autograph. He was never shy about you and always introduced you as his sweetheart, cooing about how beautiful you were. 

Some days it was okay. You loved seeing the bubbly social-butterfly side of Asmo. He was always so sweet to everyone who came up to him and genuinely enjoyed meeting new people. But other days, your insecurity rose up like a huge wave and dampened everything.

This particular day you were shopping with Asmo in a new boutique that had opened up. You were aimlessly flicking through the racks of clothes when you heard a large squealing.

Two demons ran up to Asmo, talking and gesturing excitedly. You could make out that they followed him on Devilgram and were asking if he was willing to take a picture with them. These demons were some of the most attractive beings you had ever seen. Their clothes were incredibly stylish and their hair and makeup were done flawlessly.

Looking around the shop, in all of the full length mirrors you could see the reflection of Asmo and his beautiful fans. And you looked out of place, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit in at all. 

Tearing up, you grabbed a random pair of jeans off the rack and ran into a changing room. You turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at yourself, and took deep breaths to try and keep from bursting into sobs. After a few moments Asmo began looking for you, having finished taking pictures. “Sweetheart, are you changing? Let me see what you’re wearing when you’re done!”

At the sound of his voice you burst into tears and your attempts to muffle the noise were futile. Outside the door, Asmo’s voice sounded panicked. “Darling, are you okay? What’s the matter? Please come outside, whatever it is please let me help you!” You hesitated, not wanting to face him, but this made him even more frantic. He started jiggling the doorknob and knocking on the door.

You opened it, afraid that he would accidentally break the doorknob leaving you trapped inside. As soon as he saw you he gathered you in his arms and began making shushing noises while smoothing your hair. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Please talk to me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

You tried to get the words out in between sobs and hiccups. “A-Asmo, don’t you want someone m-more beautiful? Someone who-who looks g-good with you?” Asmo paused for a moment, processing your words, and then his eyes burned with anger. “Sweetheart, did one of my fans say something mean to you? Did someone make you feel like this?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, just me.” Asmo breathed a sigh of relief at hearing no one had harrassed you and resumed smoothing your hair. “Oh, darling. You ARE beautiful. You’re stunning, sweetheart. I wish you could see the way I saw you, how adorable and gorgeous you are. And I understand that there are going to be days when you don’t believe me, when you feel like you’re not. But at least don’t go through those days alone, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without tearing up again.

"Now, let's go get some ice cream. We can eat it while taking a bubble bath."

Beelzebub

You weren’t really sure why Beel liked you coming with him to the gym all the time, even if you didn’t exercise. He said your presence was calming and that it made him focus better, which was odd because a lot of the time you just sat on an unoccupied machine and scrolled through your D.D.D.

Today was much the same, with Beel running on the treadmill and you watching some videos. The gym was pretty empty, just a few students exercising here and there.

Your eyes drifted to Beel who was running without even breaking a sweat. His body was all solid muscle: his arms, legs, and abs looked perfectly chiseled and toned. Last week you accidentally ran into Beel in the hallway and it felt like you had smashed into a brick wall. Beel, on the other hand, was completely fine.

You began to wonder what Beel thought about your body. He could be pretty handsy at times and he wasn’t shy in his affections. But what if there was something he didn’t like? Something that he thought needed changing?

He’s never mentioned anything about exercising to you before. But you thought back to the students you had seen in this gym: all of them were extremely fit with incredible bodies. You couldn’t help but start to compare yourself to them and think that maybe you were lacking.

Just then, Beel finished his run and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what kind of facial expression you were making but it seemed enough to concern him because he asked, “MC, is everything okay?”

“Hey Beel... do you ever wish I had a nicer body?”

He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘a nicer body’?”

“I don’t know... just better. Whatever nicer looks like for you.”

Beel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “No, I've never wished for that before. I still don't know what you mean by 'nicer'. I love you. And I love your body because its yours. The only thing that matters to me is whether you’re happy. And as long as I'm still allowed to touch you, then I'm happy.”

He looked at you nervously then, biting his lip. "Am I... still allowed to touch you?"

You laughed and reached to give him a hug, loving how safe it felt in his arms. "Of course, big guy. Thanks for making me feel better. You always know what to say."

Beel flushed with pride and closed his eyes in happiness, leaning into your hand as you patted him on the head.

Belphegor

You knew you were dreaming because you were sitting in a R.A.D classroom surrounded by fellow students, but you couldn’t focus on any of their faces. They were blurry, as if someone had smudged them like an artist had smudged some charcoal.

You were at your desk, looking around the classroom, when as if on cue all of the students began to slowly gather around you. They stood there silently for a moment, unmoving, and you felt a shiver go up your spine. 

And then one by one the students began to hurl insults at you.

“You’re not good enough. Not good enough for Belphegor.” “You’re ugly, you’re hideous. “You’re unwanted, go back to where you came from.” “You don’t deserve what you have, don’t deserve good.” “You’re weak.” “You ruin others, you ruin everything.”

As they insulted you the students began to draw themselves closer, pushing and shoving to reach you. They almost made a cover over your desk as if to block out all the light. You hunched over your desk, shaking and panicking, trying to curl up to protect yourself.

One of the demons began shaking your shoulder roughly, you yelping in pain. He began yelling in your ear, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“MC! Wake up!”

You startled awake and looked around the room in fear. You were in Belphie’s bed, your pajamas sticking to you with sweat. Belphie was looking at you with concern, one hand still on your shoulder.

“MC, you’re okay. It’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” You let out a sob and buried yourself in his arms while he patted you on the back until your breaths evened out.

“D-Did you see my dream?” you asked. You were nervous about showing Belphie that weak side of you, the insecurities that had been brewing since the two of you had begun a relationship. He looked apologetic. “I did. You were whimpering and shaking in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He reached over, one hand smoothing your hair, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with yours. “None of what they said was true, you know.” You looked down, embarrassed. “I mean it, MC. You are good enough. You’re beautiful, you’re wanted, you deserve all the nice and beautiful things in the world, you’re strong. And most importantly, you lift others up. You lift me up everyday.”

He lifted up your hand and pressed a kiss against it. “You lifted me out of darkness. I love you so much. And I’ll gladly stay by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You grabbed the front of his sweater to draw him into a rough kiss, lips bruising. “Forever, Belphie. Forever.” 

[hearteyes-candyskies]

Houseplant

yandere enji x reader

summary; since enji took you, you’ve only really missed one thing; your houseplants. no, wait, not the houseplants themselves. you miss the control you had over them.

a/n; for @neroesecuzioni. thank you for supporting the blm global network! read the sequel here

tw; kidnapping, dub-con, nsfw

word count; 3.4k

🌱

Before Enji took you, all you had for company were your houseplants. Some hanging from the ceiling, spilling over the terracotta pots, other taller than you were with broad, glossy leaves. Some of them were tiny little succulents, pointy and dainty and smaller than the palm of your hand. All of them healthy and fresh and most importantly, alive. Alive by your hand and love. You miss them, the products of your hard work and love.

“Enji?” He grunts out a sound of acknowledgement, though his eyes don’t leave the laptop screen in front of him. 

“What happened to my houseplants?” At your question he finally looks up, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“What?” You fidget with the phone in your hand, debating whether or not to drop the subject and go back to pinning ideas for house decor. Something masochistic in you urges you on.

“My houseplants. You know the ones I used to have all over my apartment? Are they still there or?” You let your question trail off, tone light and neutral, but you can see a muscle in Enji’s jaw twitch. He doesn’t like talking about your life before him. Sometimes you forget you had a life before him.

“The movers probably threw them out. Just put it on the card if you want to buy more.” His gaze is already back on the laptop screen, and while you wish he would’ve said more you can’t expect the number one pro hero to pull himself away from his work to answer your silly questions about some plants. 

You busy yourself with picking out the perfect plants to keep in a bathroom, imagining how cute they’ll look hanging from the ceiling and juxtaposed against the white tile of the shower wall. Leaves falling on the bathroom floor shouldn’t be a problem, but even if they do? Well, you do have to leave your mark in this house somehow. How else would you let Enji know that you’re living here?

🌱

You can’t stop thinking about your old houseplants. You know it’s stupid, especially when you have access to a virtually unlimited credit card and so much more space to fill in the new home, but still. As stupid as it sounds, you formed a connection with the plants you brought home. Home. This house is your home, not the cramped, slightly outdated apartment you used to live in.

You remember what it was like before Enji took you in and decided that you were going to be his wife. You lived lonely and unseen, just like your quirk, blending into corners and shadows. It was certainly convenient for your job and superiors, who were thrilled to have someone who could slip into just about anywhere. Needless to say, it didn’t work out great for your social life. 

You’re surprised that Enji even noticed you in the first place, a wallflower of a person. Maybe he has just been the first person bright enough to illuminate the depths of your personality that no one else saw. 

It’s strange. In a way, you feel more seen when you’re with him, like the light that he emits both figuratively and literally has finally allowed you to bloom. God, your life fucking sucked if you think being kidnapped did wonders for your mental health. Not to say that it hasn’t but still, it’s the thought that counts.

Enji loves you. That’s the only thought that counts.

🌱

“What made you notice me first?” You play idly with straw in your drink, trying to contain your anticipation at hearing something wonderful about yourself that you never noticed. He gives the slightest shrug of his shoulders. 

“I don’t know. You were pretty enough. Lonely. Quiet. You seemed nurturing enough to be a good mother.” Your fingers still.

“Oh.” You’re embarrassed that you can’t hide the disappointment in your voice, but even worse, you’re embarrassed that you even asked. What romantic response were you expecting from a man who kidnapped you? Enji gives no sign of noticing your crestfallen face, and you quietly excuse yourself to go and shower. 

It’s when the warm spray of the shower head hits you that you finally start to cry. What a naive foolishness to think that Enji had been the first to notice how remarkably lovely you were, to appreciate all of your hidden little quirks and oddities that made you indescribably beautiful. 

You’re a lonely, quiet, forgettable wallflower whose only gift for mothering is to do any job and be too timid to complain about it. Enji chose you because you were convenient and because he was lonely. That makes it two of you, you suppose. You clasp a hand over your mouth to try and stifle your sobs, but deep in the back of your mind you know that the sound of your cries wouldn’t be enough to draw Enji from his work. Not that he would know how to comfort you. You get the feeling he’s never had any positive interactions with his family before.

You can imagine exactly how it would go down if you confronted him right now, hair dripping wet and eyes puffy and red. He wouldn’t open his arms to embrace and soothe you, no, he would stand awkwardly with an almost comical look of alarm on his face before you approached him and only then would he gently pat your back until your crying subsided. Then he would avoid you for the next couple days. 

Enji doesn’t notice how quiet and withdrawn you are later that night, snuggled up to his side as the two of you watch the news. To be fair, even if he did notice he would still say nothing. It’s with that thought that you realize you’ve just traded one miserable, deeply lonely existence for another. Only now you have the privilege of being ignored by the one person who’s supposed to love you more than anything else. The one person that you thought you might have loved.

Except, you know that he’s never truly loved anyone before, never experienced any sort of love that would allow him to recognize the sensation and verbalize it. You don’t think that he felt anything more than neutrality towards Rei, who he put in a fucking mental hospital after she cracked under his abuse, and he sure as hell didn’t love his children, least of all Shouto, who you’ve seen interact willing with him a grand total of three times. 

When he first kidnapped you he promised never to hit you, never to raise his voice or threaten you. He just wouldn’t let you go. He told you he was trying to be a better man, a better husband, a better father. The last part had scared you in the beginning, back when you still believed you would be able to leave one day and continue your career. Hero-work has no place for kids. 

But now? That fear has grown into complacency, your original wariness of Enji into something similar to affection. You never fought him, ever, because, duh. You’re not stupid, you know exactly how it would end. This strange sort of begrudging attraction though? It’s a new annoyance, something that has you dying for his approval and only kept in check by your remaining pride. After the disastrous attempt to find out what he ‘loves’ about you though, your pride is pretty much gone. 

You...don’t know how to retrieve it, and the thought scares you. If you can’t have Enji’s love and affection, or your pride intact, what do you have? You know the answer, even if you won’t admit it.

You have nothing.

🌱

The copious amount of clothes you have astounds you; you knew that Enji had picked out quite a few basics before he took you but you forgot to factor in just how many things you had ordered since coming here. As you paw through your bin of socks and underwear you feel soft lace brush against your fingertips and out of curiosity you yank the piece of clothing from the bin. As soon as you realize what you’re holding you feel your cheeks flood with warmth and embarrassment. 

Cherry red lace and mesh stare at you, wrapped around a tangle of satin and lace in the same shade. You vividly remember buying this, a robe and underwear set that you had drooled over for months while living alone in your sad, cramped apartment. It had remained in your shopping cart for weeks; you just couldn’t justify dropping a little less than a grand on some scraps of fabric that no one would ever see. Once you remembered it and had access to Enji’s credit card, however… 

You don’t hesitate to try the set on, something you were too scared to do when you first got it. As you tie the robe closed with a pretty bow and do a little twirl you feel a girlish sense of enjoyment like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You run your hands up your thighs, finger lifting the hem of the robe seductively before you cup your breasts, cradled in concoction of satin and lace. You look good. 

Then you remember why you bought it and immediately want to rip the whole ensemble to shreds. You had bought it back when you were still under the delusion that Enji was wildly and fantastically in love with you and despite the fact that he kidnapped you with no regard for your say in the matter you were convinced that you were going to surprise and seduce him in the outfit. 

That being said… A half-baked idea forms in your head as you gently take the set off, folding it carefully before placing it in the top drawer of your dresser, easily accessible should you need it. You know Enji likes it when you sleep in the same bed as him at night, so what if you...surprised him? He would love it. He has to love it, he chose you for a reason so for him to reject you- 

You can’t even think about it, the distress in your chest building as you try and push the thought out of your mind. Yes, Enji may have ripped you from your life before him but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a life here. You know Enji likes to read to wind down before bed, so you’ll just catch him then. Yeah. You still have it in you. You can still make him love you.

🌱

Enji barely looks up from his book as you approach, head peeking around the doorframe like a child asking for a bedtime story. You suddenly feel extremely self conscious in your skimpy lingerie, seized by a desire to run back to your room and change and admit that you were wrong, you don’t have it in you to seduce him and even if you do he’ll never love you for it. 

But this is the only thing you can hold onto, the only part of yourself that you can regain control of. You steel yourself as you take slow, measured steps to the bed, heart pounding as Enji sets aside the book and takes in what you’re wearing.

“What are you doing?” His voice cuts through the air, sharp but not unappreciative, and rather than answer you crawl as seductively as possible on top of the bed.

You clamber on top of his broad chest, legs on either side of his waist. He’s paying attention now, eyes trained sharply on your face as large hands wrap around your waist, whether to hold you in place or move you off you can’t tell yet. You don't think that Enji even knows what he wants to do. Enji doesn’t know what he wants.

The silk of his boxers are thin enough that you can feel his growing arousal against your ass as you grind down, hands spread prettily across his chest. His hands tighten around you, and you take it as your cue to let out a breathy sigh. 

“Fuck me, Enji. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can feel it for days afterwards; I want you to cum inside of me so much that I can feel it dripping out of me afterwards.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palms as you gaze at Enji through half lidded eyes. More out of nervousness than an attempt to be sexy, you drag your teeth across your bottom lip, watching as his gaze darts straight to your mouth.

“What are you doing? Where is this coming from?” He sounds wary, guarded even, and you can’t blame him. In however long you’ve been here you’ve never tried to initiate any sort of sexual encounter, merely going along kind of lifelessly every time Enji wanted sex. It’s ironic that the very man who kidnapped you to be his wife is now being cautious about fucking you.

“I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck my pussy with your cock until I can’t take it anymore and then I want you to keep going until I can’t tell you to stop.” One hand travels downwards, toying with the waistband of his shorts. He looks unconvinced, almost like he knows that it’s not normal for a captive to want to have rough sex with their captor.

“Please, daddy.” You bend forward and whine into his ear, bucking your hips against his as you nip at his earlobe. It’s your last resort, and it works. Enji growls, honest-to-god growls against your neck before flipping you onto your back in an impressive show of power.

“You’re a fucking whore, coming onto me like that.” You’re already shrugging off your robe, flinging it across the room in an effort to salvage it. Enji burns the straps off your bra before yanking the panties so hard that they rip right off of you. Damn. There goes five hundred dollars. 

His lips are on yours before you can think of anything else, harsh and demanding as he cups the back of your head with a large, warm hand. For someone as aggressive as he is you’re surprised he doesn’t use teeth. Enji’s other hand reaches between your thighs, finding you almost embarrassingly dry. He doesn’t seem to mind, shoving two thick fingers in your mouth and groaning softly at the way your tongue swirls eagerly round them. He presses deeper, taking pleasure in the way your throat spasms around them as you gag.

“You’re so beautiful. I knew from the second that I saw you that you would be mine.” That’s the first time he’s ever called you beautiful, or even complimented anything about your physical appearance. The praise goes straight to your head in the form of blood rushing to your cheeks, and Enji laughs at the way you squirm against him, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“You can ask me to fuck you but you can’t take a compliment?” He doesn’t let you respond, instead brushing over your clit with his thumb before working his fingers inside of you, curling and seeking out the rough little patch on your walls. You’re glad for the way Enji captures your mouth again, relieving you of the need to decide between fake moaning and laying in uncomfortable silence.

He goes until the sound of his fingers squelching in your slick is all you can hear, and your stomach starts to clench every time his hand moves. Enji hasn’t deliberately touched your clit throughout the whole process, but the pressure of the heel of his palm is enough to work you quickly to orgasm. Much like the overachiever he is in his job, Enji doesn’t stop playing with your sloppily wet pussy until your thighs are tensing around his wrist, one of your own hands reaching down to stop his. 

“Enji- Enji, oh, oh, Enji, stop-” Your moan is practically pornographic, the pleasure quickly becoming unbearable. His fingers finally stop, and he raises them to your mouth.

“Suck.” You comply without hesitation, reveling in the way that Enji can’t seem to tear his gaze from your mouth. You let go with a ‘pop’ before pressing a small, soft kiss to the calloused pads of his fingers. 

Strangely enough it’s this relatively meaningless action that brings the most emotion to Enji’s face; desire, guilt, and regret all flash across his face before he attacks your neck, sucking what you know will be dark bruises into your flesh. 

You can feel him grabbing his dick and positioning it so that the head is right above your twitching hole and-

“Enji!” You practically shriek as his hips surge forward, burying himself deep within you in one go. Your legs wrap tight around his waist and squeeze, arms coming up around his neck as you let out pathetic little gasps and moans. The sensation of what can only be his cock nudging against the opening of your cervix has your legs squeezing tighter until Enji growls and grabs both your calves in his hands before hiking them over his shoulder and pressing forward.

The new position has your legs twitching as Enji knocks against your cervix with every thrust, and you draw his head in closer as he churns up your insides. The sound is obscene; you’re the one producing it and you’re still embarrassed. 

Enji finally has the sense to reach between the two of you and rub at your clit, peeling back the hood with a surprising dexterousness before flicking gently upwards with his thumb. You feel yourself clenching down harder and harder each time he does it, until you’re finally spiraling into your second orgasm of the night. 

The feeling of your cunt clenching down on his has Enji murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as his thrusts speed up and the force behind them becomes almost punishing.

“Mine, you’re mine, mine, mine-”

“Tell me that you love me.” Your voice is breathy and whiny and you sound so desperate but Enji takes no heed, chasing his own orgasm.

“I love you, god you’re going to make a beautiful mother, you’re mine, I love you,” the rest of his words trail off into incoherent babbling as his body stiffens and you feel hot cum flood your insides. Despite your less than positive stance on having kids right now, you can’t bring yourself to care, replaying Enji’s words in your head. He loves you. He wants you. He loves you. He needs you.

He collapses on top of you, rolling onto his side to avoid crushing you but still gathering you up in his arms. You bury your face in his chest, hands trapped between your bodies, and sigh. Enji’s silent, blue eyes watch your face with something akin to warmth before reaching a hand out to brush hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“I can uh, I can get a birth control pill for you tomorrow if you want.” Part of you screams to take him up on an offer that you’ll likely never see again, but the other part of you can’t help but think how much a child would tie him to you. If you gave him a dual-quirked son? Enji would have no choice but to love and cherish you. You’d be giving him what he’s always wanted.

“Mm.” You make a non-committal noise, snuggling further into his body heat and leaving him to awkwardly tighten his embrace.

“Is that a yes?” This is the most uncertain you’ve ever heard Enji in your life, and knowing that you’re the cause for it sends an immeasurable amount of satisfaction coursing through your veins. You make him so weak. 

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I want to cuddle.” Your voice is soft and sweet, and you glance at him through your lashes. His face is uncharacteristically open, allowing you to read every bit of uncertainty that flies across his face.

“Ok. Let me get a towel first.” You say nothing, just scooting back so that he can get off the bed. He returns with a warm, wet towel, wiping down your inner thighs with a tenderness you’ve never seen before throwing it in the laundry hamper, turning off the lights, and settling in beside you.

As you drift off to sleep, Enji holding you like you’re made of glass, you feel him press a light kiss to your forehead.

“I…” he seems to be searching for a way to express his affection, something he’s almost certainly never had to do before, “I enjoyed tonight.” You crack an eye open, observing how the iciness of his gaze has melted somewhat. A small smile creeps across your face.

“I enjoyed it too. Goodnight, Enji.” He runs a warm hand up and down your bare back.

“Goodnight.” A pause. “I love you, y/n.” You feel drunk on power at the sound of your name from his lips. 

“Love you too, Enji.” 

[rainey-staerie-daize]

So far, this’s been a weird bad week.

On Sunday, I awoke to cinnamon rolls, strawberries, and bagels, which is unusual in our household. We usually have cereal, but I was fine with this change. I love cinnamon rolls. I thought this was gonna be the only oddity of that day, but I was wrong.

Skye said she was gonna stay home during the littles’ visit, so I got hopeful that I could have a heart-to-heart with Mom about the previous week in the car, but she ended up coming with because I was and she didn’t want to be home alone. And then, Kare was with us too, because she didn’t want to go, so we had her with us for two hours. But, oh! Not two hours, but one, because without Kare, Xan only wanted to spend one hour with their dad.

So, instead of maybe stopping at the store or something, and counting off all the reasons I’ve been upset with my mother, we took a drive for an hour with my sisters. For the first time ever, I turned the other way in the car, hoping Mom got the hint that something was up. After a while of silence, she asked Kare how she was doing, as she usually does when it’s been silent for a while, and then asked me the same thing a minute later. I gave a noncommittal hum, not wanting to talk in that moment with almost everyone in the car.

Before picking up Xan, she went through the Starbucks drive-through to get us each something, so I turned the right way to be able to drink my matcha pineapple drink, but I was still not very happy. Refreshers and fraps can’t fix the hole in my heart where love should go.

After getting Xan, we went to Ross for a new outfit or two each because it’s getting hot out here and Mom has stimulus money right now. I usually love shopping, but considering that I was already upset, Mom previously promised an individual “date” day with each of us for this, I didn’t have my glasses or phone that day, and I like to take my time, I wasn’t having a good time. I found cute items that were too small for me, and couldn’t take pics because I didn’t bring my phone, and I was the last one of the family to be perusing the racks. I HATE to be the one everyone’s waiting on.

And then to top it all off, Mom complained in the car that she “spent way too much money.” I already have a nagging guilt in my subconscious soul whenever I’ve been done shopping the last few times, even when spending my own money. I really didn’t need to hear that I’m actually being a burden on someone, either time-wise or financially.

Holy shit, I need to take a minute.

Anyway, we came home, and everyone went straight to trying everything on. Which makes me anxious, because we just got these clothes, and Mom usually wipes things down or washes them before we use them. Wondered for a few if I was being paranoid, before concluding that I’m not and Mom’s just slipping at this game.

Then Mom started talking about chores we need to get done, and that the garage is getting cleaned out today. Now, she’s said this a lot, so I never know when she’s actually gonna get serious, but apparently, she actually meant it.

I like to clean by myself, preferably when everyone’s asleep or gone, because I know damn well I take to long, and I don’t want the ridicule. Big problem with that is the fact that the anxiety from the possible judgement keeps me from actually starting, so I end up never starting and it never gets done. And Mom was is sick of my shit. Many of the boxes and bags of laundry in the garage are mine.

So, as I was sitting in the kitchen trying to enjoy the ice cream Mom said we could all have, I was trying not to panic when Skye was going through the garage for stuff to bring in and go through. Mom mentioned that she was gonna “force inspiration to clean” onto me, and I told her that’s not how that works.”

Luckily, she found a couple bags of toys to go through first, and I sat and watched, trying to relax so I’d stop feeling sick to my stomach. I’m trying not to feel sick as I type this all, but I gotta let my feelings out somewhere.

Eventually, she brought in a bag of my stuff. I looked at a couple items, and determined it was a bag I’d already gone through a few months ago. It was only in the garage again because I hadn’t washed and put it away yet. So far, so good. Another bag, and I was able to throw some things away without any second guessing. Eventually, I didn’t feel so sick anymore, and was in productive mode.

At some point, Skye asked if she should bring in something that wasn’t clothes, and I explained quietly that I’ve had enough mentally. “Please don’t make me switch tasks right now.” I’m so glad, that at age 20, I know I’m autistic, read up on it a ton, and now have the tools I need to communicate what’s going on in my head.

Skye understood, and brought in more clothes. I’m also so glad to have her as a sister. Mom would’ve seen it as making excuses, which is why I tried not to be loud enough for her to hear. I was in a zone, doing what she wanted (and I needed) for once, and I didn’t need her to break it by yelling.

I set aside the things that weren’t mine to go through, and I got it done. Since I still had quite a lot, I decided to go through everything more selectively at another time, on my own time. We’ll see how that goes.

Had dinner, and I didn’t feel like eating as much as I usually do, and said this to Mom. Told her about how the day went nothing like how I’d planned, and she seemed to finally recognise some depression in me, and offered to have that talk I wanted that night or the next day. After dinner, I chilled for a while with the Gravity Falls tag (pretty sure y’all’ve noticed) in the bathroom, because it’s the one private room of the house and I wanted to be alone, and when I came out, everyone was sleeping and Mom was cleaning. She was spraying everything with Febreze, and then vacuumed after a few, and told me to check my slippers to see if they’re dirty before walking on the carpets. I find this a bit absurd, seeing as how Mom is the one who gets the floors dirty with her shoes (FR, she’s the only one of us that leaves visible shoe prints inside), and I wear slippers specifically so I don’t have to keep washing my feet all the damn time. But not wanting an argument, I complied, and took off my slippers to sit at the desk with the laptop.

The plan was to finally catch up on my school work, but after Mom got on me about the dog being neglected, I simply didn’t have the spoons, and looked up pics of Ford’s futuristic gun. Eventually started reading Gravity Falls: Lost Legends on the purple game phone. Not very productive, I know, but I knew I didn’t have actual class the next day, and I’m normally very responsible with the dog. I’ve only been neglecting her as a bit of a social experiment to see if anybody would notice that the one person who cares for her hasn’t been. Don’t worry, I gave her food and water after a while, but I left the red blanket covered in Kare’s piss over the crate, because if Mom thinks she knows best and wants to put a dirty-ass blanket over the crate, who am I to remove it?

Fucking bitch.

Anyway, after she went to sleep, the living room felt like the Twilight Zone. It had the vibe of being freshly steam-cleaned, despite not being cleaned at all, I felt like I couldn’t lay down anywhere because dirty laundry had touched my leg earlier and I didn’t feel like showering yet, and everyone was asleep but me. Two or three lights were on but I shut them off to help calm my mind a bit. Worked a bit, and I continued reading until the next morning. I heard Mom’s alarm for Xan’s school day start going off, and not wanting to interact with her, I laid down to sleep, letting fate decide if she gets up on time or not. Skye says she didn’t, and Xan ended up not going to school. Oh well. Not my problem.

Oy, she would think I’m such a selfish bitch if she read that, but I honestly don’t care. I half hope she stumbles across this blog just so she finally knows what I’m thinking all the damn time. Stars know that we never did have that talk. In fact, when I made a comment before she went to sleep on Sunday that I’m aweful at this whole “being a human thing,” she accused me of just trying to get sympathy, and “stop the whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”

Oy, so I’m amazing, I guess? What do you want me to say? Nothing?? I mean, I guess that’s correct. I would finally stop bugging her with my too-loud voice. I try to moderate my volume, I really do, but sometimes I forget, or I’m being louder than I think I am.

Yesterday, I slept a lot of the day, woke up to take an exam, and came out of my room to find all but one piece of the pineapple Mom got gone. Not only did everyone save me only a single cube, it was so sweet and good, and I’m not sure I did so well on my exam. Mom said the littles’ scarfed it all down in minutes, and that it wasn’t even that good because the enzymes burned their tongues, but I don’t feel bad for them. They wouldn’t have gotten burned so bad if they had saved some for Skye and I. She was still sleeping at the time. I also spotted the only pineapple juice in Kare’s Starbucks cup from the day before, but when I took a sip (because she often wastes food, she won’t miss it), I discovered it was watered down. Ugh.

That night, last night, as I stayed up late reading fan-made Gravity Falls comics, I tried to stay as silent as possible. My laughter is often loud, and I was finally having a good time. I didn’t need Mom waking up to scold me with the whole “I work graveyard, and I just got vaccinated! Why can’t I ever sleep?!”

I think I did a pretty great job of staying quiet for once, but at some point, she called my name, which startled me a bit. I went to her room to see what was up, but after I called back and got no response, I determined that she just called my name in her sleep. Whew.

And now, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, typing away, still being silent. I’ll have a good time with Skye when Mom’s not around. Mom doesn’t deserve to hear my laughter anymore if she doesn’t want it so bad. She was watching late-night comedy when I was typing the first part of this post, but at some point, she got up, and I quickly-but-casually switched tabs to the music I was listening to to read the comments until she left from behind me again. I do want to talk about all of this with her eventually, but I really don’t tonight, and she sometimes reads over my shoulder if it’s easy for her to do so.

I hope she’s getting ready for work right now, and she won’t be able to get an Early Out. I’d love for the anxiety of her randomly crashing my vibes to be gone. Maybe (but probably not) I’ll clean, maybe I’ll read some more in the dark. Don’t know yet.

[tenpointstoq]

Come back for me

For @hey-there-hunter because of beautiful art they drew and because they let me yell about fic at them all day long. Here is a cute fluff piece based on the aftermath of the Djinn episode. No anti Yen please. Just some solid fluff while I take a break from writing my big AU fic.

JaskierxGerlat

1845 words

Fluff, angst, comfort, gayyyyyy

Come back for me -

After the whole Djinn situation with the almost dying, crazy witches almost killing Geralt with collapsed roofs and trying to do whack magic; some of which caused Geralt to ruin his reputation in the closest town, Jaskier took it upon himself to take matters into his own hands. So when Geralt returned back at camp, somehow entirely unscathed and looking far more relaxed than he had any right too, Jaskier launched into his plan of attack.

‘I am so glad the master of the mighty Djinn was able to join us once again. Finally free of the sorceress then hey?’ He chimed, rising from his spot beside the campfire. Lifting a flower crown woven from lavender and camomile from his hair he smiled, resting it delicately upon Geralt’s head. ‘So this is the start of an entire plan I have worked out, to help you get proper rest and end that insomnia that’s plagued you and caused you to do so many reckless things, meaning we can never return to that town ever again.’ Jaskier explained with his usual flourish, waving his hands in the general direction of the town.

Geralt looked at Jaskier somewhat incredulously answered with a simple ‘How many of those do you have in your hair’. Eyes trailing across his best friend in their deep Sapphire and ruby silk outfit. Jaskier gave the man a wink before skipping back over to the fire. Geralt followed him slowly, eyeing Jaskier with a sense of distrust.

‘The flowers actually help aid sleep. I am brewing you a tea of chamomile and valerian. If neither work I even have a source who could help us to get poppies. We will have you sleeping sweetly in no time.’ Jaskier chirped, standing beside a collection of vials and a basket filled with flowers, fruit and other oddities.

Geralt found it sweet the way Jaskier often wished to look after him, however the Bard tended to go overboard whenever he tried, leading to more disaster than good. He was also a terrible cook, even tea seemed like a very bad idea If prepared by the Bard. He should have mentioned that he had found a way to solve said issue, however the idea of explaining that he’d had sex with the woman who had scared Jaskier and caused the Bard to believe he was dead, didn’t seem like the best idea right now.

Jaskier had been preparing for this as soon as he was able to leave the castle. Seeing Geralt busied himself with the finer things in life, which Jaskier couldn’t fault him for, after a near death experience who wouldn’t want to fall into the arms of a beautiful damsel? To make sure Geralt didn’t end up relying on said Damsel who had almost killed them and seemed like very bad news, he needed to work out this insomnia issue on his own. Consulting women in the village Jaskier took the all or nothing approach. Though the vial of lavender oil he had stashed away in his bag continued to nag at him, while he had more than once helped Geralt with wounds and even undressing when his armor became an issue, it was a bit different from straight up suggesting a massage with scented oils in a purely friendship orientated way. Not that it being something more was an issue exactly, he was just rather sure Geralt would not be a fan of that. While Jaskier had gotten himself into trouble across the entire gender spectrum Jaskier had only ever seen Geralt bed women, which was completely fine. Each to their own after all, it just made having tempting thoughts about his best friend a little more difficult.

Geralt leaned over the pot, nose wrinkling as he tried to give Jaskier what he hoped was a look of encouragement, though the way the Bard seemed to crumple a little didn’t point to a win there. “Jaskier, I do appreciate-“ he waved his hand around at their own very messy campsite. Picking a piece of Lavender that fell into his hair, breathing in the scent for a moment, eyes falling shut as it flooded his senses. Jaskier was beside him, tucking another flower behind Geralt's hair, his fingers so gentle, whispering in their touch. Looking up Geralt noticed the blood that still stained Jaskiers shirt. As the younger man made to move back Geralt caught the material between his fingers, his eyes hard.

Jaskier caught a little off balance braced his hands on Geralt’s shoulders, looking down at him in confusion. Geralt had never been touchy feely, unless it was to slap the bard upside the head for some idiot comment or throw him over his shoulder to get him the hell out of a mess that was almost always Jaskiers making in the first place. The pain in Geralt's eyes made Jaskiers own heart clench, “Hey now.” He murmured, moving to kneel, bringing the two eye to eye. Geralt’s gaze didn’t shift, fingers caressing along the bloodied material. “I never even liked this shirt that much anyway, it’s a good excuse to go shopping next time you make us some coin from our next monster hey?” Jaskier tried to joke, his voice soft, brushing his thumbs along the hard line of muscle beneath the material of Geralt's shirt. Wishing he could massage the anguish from his friends form, all the way out of his very soul, Geralt already carried so much pain, the last thing he wished to do was to add to it.

“I did this.” The words came out roughly, his eyes flickingdown in shame, hands still fisted into the shirt, keeping both only breaths apart from the other. “You almost died, someone else actually did.” The pain in his words had Jaskier acting before he could properly think it through, reaching down he took Geralt's hands in his own, pressing them to his throat, his head shaking gently. “You didn’t know, you had no way of knowing. Come now, I am just fine, you got me to a healer, you saved my life old friend.” Jaskier felt the way Geralt's fingers trembled beneath his own, hating the way so many saw this man as a monster, the kindest he had ever known. Yet here he was, coming undone at the sheer idea of hurting Jaskier.

“Come on Geralt, I straight up wished for someone’s death when I thought the wishes were mine!” He laughed, holding Geralt's hands beneath his own, reaching out slowly, his fingers brushing beneath the man's chin, tilting it up so he couldn’t look away. “I’m right here sweet thing, I’m safe, alive, I shall sing another day, all because of you.” He smiled gently, wrinkling his nose in that way he did when he wanted to make Geralt laugh. “Worry not, I know you never meant me any harm.” While Jaskier had never found the truth a particular issue, it was different with Geralt. Sweet nothings didn’t work on him, Jaskier knew from previous generally drunken experience, yet as he opened his mouth he couldn’t leave the man to sit here, looking so broken. “Why would I go to such efforts to help you if I was angry? You don’t scare me White Wolf.” He murmured, a crooked smile falling across his lips.

Geralt was finding it hard to breathe, watching Jaskier explain it all away as if Geralt’s very own words hadn’t almost killed him only a day earlier. He wanted to move, to escape the guilt, go and hunt something for dinner, throw his senses into the hunt and push the rest of it away, yet with Jaskier so close, the smell of flowers and smoke lingering on his skin, so warm and very alive beneath his hands. He couldn’t leave, couldn’t walk away from the beautiful man he came so close to losing. “I should.” He replied, with no true heat to it, never good with words, that was always Jaskiers job, until it almost never was again.

“Stop that.” Jaskier chided, “Don’t give me cause to reprimand you Geralt, I will have none of your self loathing. I have spent far too many hours writing songs that sing your praises to see it all undone by a genie in a bottle of all things.” Jaskier was having none of it, tapping Geralt on the tip of his nose in a way that elicited a very confused look from the other that pulled a bark of laughter from his lips. “We both lived to fight another day, tonight you will sleep, one way or another and then we will be off to slay more monsters for me to create masterpieces about, as it will always be.” Now that was possibly a little bit of wishful thinking on his part, for once Geralt didn’t send him a snarky response telling him to fuck off, or that their alliance was only temporary. Instead he looked up carefully, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll be the death of you.” Though to anyone else it would sound like he was protesting Jaskier knew this was Geralt's own form of rather twisted humor. Giving the man a grin he collapsed, resting his head against Geralt's chest, a hand to his forehead dramatically, a long sigh leaving his lips as he settled into Geralt's lap. “You like me too much to let that happen my dear Witcher, plus who would get you into all of those amazing parties? Women, wine and food, we all know they are weaknesses of yours.” Jaskier joked, settling comfortably in front of the fire against his friend.

While guilt still hung in the shadows of Geralt's mind, Jaskiers way of driving the painful from his chest with his soft huffing laugh, his eyes bright as breaking waves in the firelight lifted a weight he had grown so akin to carrying. The bard had a way of softening everything at the edges, even when it was just the two of them, no crowd to charm, no coin to be made, the simple joy of sharing such company while still oddly new to Geralt was beginning to suit him. Parts of himself that rarely dared to hope whispered that he may just grow used to this, to love it even.

[sparrellow]

oops

Rin realised with absolute terror, that by some cursed oddity, the quite-revealing, most definitely embarrassing selfie she had just taken had been sent to Len.

rating: T genre: humour, romance pairing: rinlen words:  2,477

It was a balmy Tuesday afternoon, and Rin was bored, so she went window shopping.

Her favourite thing to do was try on cute outfits, take selfies in them, and then not buy anything at all. It wasn’t like she could afford to buy any of the things she tried, anyway—she was a broke university student, barely scraping by weekly on nutritious meals of cup ramen. 

This day, she felt particularly ambitious. A little sexy, even. So she went to her favourite lingerie store and tried on a bunch of cute, expensive underwear.

Alas, it did not go exactly as planned.

When she unlocked her phone to take a selfie, it did some weird glitch thing, but she simply shrugged it off and went to snap a photo of herself in the pastel, frilly, mermaid-themed underwear she’d picked out. Hmm. Cute. She clicked the confirm button, and went to take another picture, except— 

Except the screen didn’t return to the camera option.

Oh, no.

It didn’t.

It had, in fact, opened up her message with Len. Her uni friend. The cute guy from her Psychology class.

But that wasn’t it.

Because, Rin realised with absolute terror, that by some cursed oddity, the quite-revealing , most definitely embarrassing selfie she had just taken had been sent to him.

The final hit was the little: Read at 2:36 .

“Fuck!”

.

It was a balmy Tuesday afternoon, and Len was struggling to stay awake during his Introduction to Molecular Chemistry lecture. He kept nodding off every few minutes, the lecturer’s voice oddly soothing—both a blessing and a curse in his case.

But then his phone buzzed, and his eyes popped open to read the notification.

(1) Message from Rin Kagamine.

Huh. Wonder why Rin was texting him. They didn’t really talk much outside of their class together, but she was pretty cool. Pretty and cool, that was. He didn’t really think they were on that level for casual conversations yet, so perhaps it was uni-related, or something.

He reached over to unlock his phone to read the message. 

And promptly turned off his screen again.

What… what was that .

His eyes had almost fallen out of his sockets. Had he just seen correctly? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? He wasn’t even entirely sure.

Reluctantly, he opened the message back up.

And confirmed, it was, indeed, not a mistake of his eyes. 

She had, in fact, just sent him a picture of her in underwear. (Very nice underwear, might he add! But also, what the fuck was going on here .)

Before he could even form some degree of coherent message in response to the picture, Rin had begun spamming him in a flurry of panic.

FUCK

I’M SO SORRY

I

I’M SO FUCKING EMBARRASSED OH MY FUCKING GOD

FUCK!!!!

I SWEAR THIS WAS AN ACCIDENT I

I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED MY PHONE GLITCHED I’M SO SORRY LEN FUCK

He raised an eyebrow at the messages, amused. So it was… an accident? How does one send a sexy selfie as an accident? How does one’s phone glitch to the degree of accidentally sending someone a sexy selfie? Had she been meaning to send it to someone else?

There were so many questions. 

Well, the good thing was that Len was definitely awake now.

.

Rin was crouching on the floor of the dressing room, half-naked and freaking out because he still hadn’t replied. But he had read all the messages. Oh god. What happens if he, like, posted the picture to some Facebook group to shame her? What if he used it for blackmail?

Was Len that sort of person? Did he like blackmail?

But before she could jump to any more conclusions, he’d responded with:

Thanks. I needed something to make this lecture a little bit more bearable.

He was at school? Had he opened the message in front of everyone? Had everyone else seen her in the cute little frilly mermaid underwear with her unshaven legs and pot-belly from eating two servings of instant yakisoba for lunch????

Rin sunk further down onto the ground, clutching her head, texting back rapid-fire. 

I swear it was an accident I don’t know why it was sent to you I was literally just taking pics of myself and AHHHHH

Did she really just admit that she had been taking photos of herself, half-naked, in the dressing room of an expensive lingerie store?

Yes. Yes she did.

And Len had the audacity to send back a crying-laughing face.

Well idk if you wanted an opinion, but it looks cute. You should buy it.

Rin buried her face into her knees, utterly humiliated . This wasn’t what she was expecting her boring Tuesday afternoon to be like. Maybe she should’ve just stayed home and studied like a good student.

Well. It was too late to go back now.

I wish I could but it’s way out of my price range

Thanks, tho

She closed her phone and stood up, taking a breath to calm herself. At that moment, the dressing room assistant knocked on her door and asked, “Do you need any help?”

“I’m fine!” she croaked, scrambling to change into her next outfit. God forbid she let anyone else look at her body today.

.

Len couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at the fact that she’d stop replying after that last message.

Of course, it was normal , given that this was all apparently an accident , but he was hoping she’d send another picture or two.

You know.

That sounded dirty of him. But she was cute. And that first picture was—although very much a surprise—somewhat eye candy for him. Plus he was super bored. He still had another hour left of his lecture and his soul was slowly being leached from his body.

So, like the little disgusting man he was, he sent another message.

Is that all?

About a minute passed, before Rin responded with, What?

He internally winced. Was he really going to make himself sound like a major creep?

Yes. Yes he was.

(This was going to make his Psychology class super awkward and he knew it.)

You’re not trying any others on?

Rin’s reply came almost immediately after that. Of COURSE I’m trying others on

What, do you want more pictures of an underdeveloped adult woman with hairy legs and a bloated stomach in your phone?

Len snorted. The picture she’d sent was fine. It was a body. A very nice body he liked to look at.

So he said, I can give you a second opinion?

It was radio static silent from Rin. She’d read his message, but no answer. He waited about five minutes, before he put down his phone with a sigh and tried to tune into his class.

She’d probably blocked his number. With good reason.

God. How was he going to meet her eyes in Psychology class on Thursday?

Providing she didn’t like, sock him in the jaw for being a pervert.

But he couldn’t help it! He needed the thrill! The entertainment! Also the pictures of a cute girl in cute underwear on his phone!

Len was going to hell but he didn’t even care.

.

Rin had stared at her phone for an incredibly long time, not sure how to respond to her classmate.

Look, she got it. It was her fault for being a dumbass and not checking before taking the picture. She technically asked for this roundabout method of torture. 

And yet. He had the audacity to ask for more.

She didn’t know whether to be mad or impressed. Madpressed, maybe.

So she left it to stew on, finished taking selfies of all the cute underwear in her naked glory, and went home very pensive. She thought very hard about it all on the bus, and glared hard at his little, stupid face in his icon on the message app.

Len was a good-looking guy. And , from the few conversations they had in class, he had a good sense of humour. And judging by his messages, he was also a cheeky asshole.

But she could’ve done worse. A whole lot worse. She could’ve sent that picture to her grandfather, or better yet, one of her creepy great uncles. Perhaps it was a good thing she’d sent it to some random (hot) guy from university.

Yeah.

So Rin decided to send the rest of her photos to him, and die gracefully in a puddle of shame. 

He’d already seen one, so he might as well see them all.

.

Len almost tripped and fell flat on his face when Rin suddenly bulk-sent five more pictures of her in various, adorable lingerie.

He wasn’t even in his lecture anymore. He was walking home, feeling sorry for his little perverted self, and the fact that he accidentally slept through the remainder of his class. How on earth was he even going to pass that class.

The blood rushing to his head (and to the south pole), he managed to type out a response that read a lot more underwhelmingly compared to what was really going on in his mind.

Very nice.

Was it something a girl wanted to read after sending multiple pictures of herself in a vulnerable state? No, probably not. But his brain had turned to mush and was starting to seep out of his ears. 

Rin wasn’t impressed.

You could’ve at least said thank you

Len fumbled for his dorm key, hands sweaty. Look, he was inexperienced. No one had ever sent him sexy pictures—or the equivalent of them, at least, whatever these were. He didn’t know how to handle it! Besides, she wasn’t even, like, a girl he was dating. He couldn’t just go full-mcCreep and tell her that he had a boner.

Could he?

No. He couldn’t.

Thank you , he responded, upon letting himself into his dorm room. I like the lavender one btw. It goes well with your hair colour

Was that too… much? He didn’t know if what he was doing was right. What did she expect him to say? He had no idea what on earth this entire situation was meant to be.

Oh really? That was my favourite

Cost like half a kidney tho

Len sank down onto his bed, relieved at her response. Okay. Okay. He was doing better. But now … he had a very important question he wanted to ask.

What’s the name of the store?

.

Rin blinked at his message, wondering why he was asking.

But she decided it was better not to ask. Maybe he had a girlfriend, or something. (Which, if he did, she would be incredibly pissed, because wouldn’t this classify as cheating? If he did, she was going to make sure he couldn’t walk straight ever again.)

She sent him back the store name. And left it there.

Thanks!

I’ll see you on Thursday ;)

Rin stared at his messages. Why did he send that winky face. What did it mean. What did it mean.

She didn’t respond, just tossed her phone aside and flopped back against her couch. She’d find out soon enough if she’d regret her actions.

.

Come Thursday, Rin had all but mentally prepared for her encounter with Len.

He pulled out the chair beside her in their lecture hall, and she stiffened, reluctantly dragging her eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Morning,” he said, acting way too casual given the circumstances. He plopped a familiar bag down on the desk in front of her and winked. Winked.

She felt her breakfast come up a little as it dawned on her, with absolute horror, that the bag donned the logo of the exact same store she’d been trying on underwear in the other day.

“What… is this,” she asked, gesturing at the bag like it was a severed toe.

Len looked smug, resting his chin on his hand. “I don’t know. Take a peek.”

“You don’t know,” Rin muttered to herself, unconvinced. She leaned forward, peering into the bag, catching a glimpse of something the shade of lavender. Uhhhh. She’d seen that shade of lavender somewhere. On her body. In the dressing room.

Hm.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Len said, shifting his gaze away so that he was facing forward. “No, I don’t know your size. I guessed.”

She wanted to send her face forward into the surface of the desk. 

“But if it doesn’t fit,” he added, lips turning up into a smirk, “you can always take it in to swap it for your size. The receipt is in the bag.”

God. What on earth. What the even. What?

“Is this… are you going to like… blackmail me or something, or,” Rin spluttered, eyeing him with suspicion. “What are you going to have me do in return for… this? This brand isn’t… cheap.”

Len glanced back at her, shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you technically don’t have to do anything , but…” He licked his lips. What the fuck? Ew. Gross. “I wouldn’t mind some more pictures.”

She gawked at him, heat rushing to her cheeks. “ Re ally?” She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust this pretty-faced man-boy at all. “So, you want to be my sugar daddy?”

He choked. After recovering from his coughing fit, he sat up straight, made direct eye-contact and said smoothly, “Yeah, if that’s how you want to see it.”

So, he gave her expensive lingerie. In exchange for. Pictures of her. In said lingerie.

Wow.

Rin wasn’t sure whether she was awake anymore, or just dreaming. Maybe she had passed out or something, and was having a fever dream. This was just too weird to even be real. She pinched her thigh under the desk, but nothing happened (alas).

“I mean, you could just go on a date with me instead, and maybe you’ll get to see the real thing,” her mouth said, without any mental input. It just came out. 

It was real clown hours in this Psychology lecture, huh.

Len’s mouth popped open. Then closed. Then opened again. “That could work, too.”

It was silent. No one knew how to handle this situation, apparently. They were both staring awkwardly at the bag of lingerie on the desk between them, like it might eat them at any moment.

Eventually, Rin’s hand reached out and snatched it off the desk, stuffing it down into her shoulder bag on the ground. She cleared her throat, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’ll try it on tonight and see how it fits.”

Len tried not to look too pleased. And failed. “Cool.” He hesitated, side-glancing her. “If it does… ”

“I’ll meet you at Crypton's at seven.”

He blinked, surprised, before leaning back in his seat and grinning with satisfaction. “Sounds good.”

(Spoiler alert: Rin’s underwear didn’t fit, but they still went on the date anyway.)

[onstarsandiron]

Band AU Outline

Because where else am I going to put this?

[Lol I made it long, it’s under the readmore]

Scene 1 is Jax is trying to get coffee for his shitty boss and this asshole bumps into him, spills it all over him, and has the goddamn nerve to not stick around. Jax doesn’t know how he feels about the $50 bill casually thrown at him before Asshole runs off

Scene 2 is Robb arriving late to after school rehearsal and smelling faintly like coffee and his stupid brother is there and sneers at him because Eric is sooooo perfect and Eric gets to be the one that plays the violin, the instrument that everyone likes, and Robb is here playing the bass. Well fuck you, Eric, because Robb’s a damn good bass player and he actually likes how it sounds, thank you very much. If he’d gotten stuck with the viola he would have killed himself; he’d literally be second fiddle to Eric.

Scene 3 is Jax on his lunch break talking to Ana about their bassist or something I think? 

Scene 4 is Robb secretly practicing his electric bass in a quiet part of the mansion, like he always does, playing along with youtube videos and learning whatever he feels like

Scene 5 is Jax arriving at the venue and finally feeling the stress of the day wash off a little

Scene 6 is Robb arriving at the venue; he’s got a genuine ticket, but he brought his electric bass to try and say he’s part of the opening act or something and get backstage to try and get an autograph (maybe got dared to get one?) This goes, of course, wrong when the stage runner insists on personally seeing him to the correct dressing room saying they’ve been looking for their goddamn bassist all over the place, where the fuck have you been? and just shoves him in 

Queue: “YOU!” “Me?” Robb studied the other’s face, looking for where he’d know those features from. Suddenly it came to him. Oh. Oh no. Coffee boy. “Oh no,” Rob said, unable to help it, “Me.” 

Robb fucking OWES Jax for that bullshit, he may have payed for replacement coffee, but you can’t pay for replacement dignity, and that was his FAVORITE sweater. What’s that instrument he has? A bass? Fucking good because Barger is a no-show and they’re on in 15. 

Ana’s drums, Di does keyboard and synth, Jax is lead (only) guitar and lead (only) singer -- Di cannot carry a note to save the galaxy and Ana gets too excited and just ends up screaming more than singing (you physically cannot stop her from doing this, mind you, so mostly Jax just doesn’t give her a mic. It helps only so very much. To be fair, it is Ana’s band, so she has a certain right to do whatever she wants) They are the Dossier [Idk if I wanna include Xu and Elara in here yet; if I do, Elara’s a techie and Xu is additional tech support + Social media manager/marketing/gig booking/etc]

Queue the gang tearing up Robb’s pretty boy outfit to get grungier bc if you believe Ana started some kinda new wave bullshit band full of crooners you’re goddamn wrong. They do loud hard rock and you can die made about it. Also Jax applies Robb’s eyeliner and Robb has never had a more intimate moment with an individual without actually touching one another in his life. 

Then there’s the show. Lucky for Robb they’re playing all covers and it’s stuff that he knows. unluckily for Robb, it’s completely different to playing quietly in his tucked away chamber to youtube videos. He makes do, though. 

He’s kind of mouthing along to the words he knows and then he’s singing them quietly and then he’s singing them outright and then Jax notices and somehow there’s now been a mic placed in front of him and he’s become backup vocals now and if he believed in fake things he’d think Jax was actually pleased about this. Wow, performing sure makes your heart beat hard.

Then they’re taking a bow and off the stage before he even knows it. He thinks now he’ll be shooed off, but actually they let him watch the actual concert with them and then there’s like an after party and they let him tag along and actually he has a really good time (He gets that autograph he wanted too lol)

Like a week later he gets a call from Ana -- Di had made him sign a goddamn liability waiver including personal and emergency contact info -- and turns out that Barger skipped town for reasons which are genuinely undisclosed but 99% probably because he has a gambling problem. They need a new bassist. He worked out well in a pinch, does he think he can make practices monday at 7? 

So that’s how Robb starts sneaking around to be in this band and play little gigs here and there and it isn’t the sort of places anyone from his circle would be involved in and it isn’t so big that he’s so very worried about an internet presence (he does “”Shyly”” hide behind his hand when Di tries to get pictures for their social media). Robb like tells his mom he’s doing some extracurricular thing and turns his phone off and pays off his chauffeur to say nothing

There’s probably some cute scenes or clips of outings or something. They go thrift shopping to get Robb some actual stage clothes, they hang out with Ana’s moms, they don’t talk about Jax’s parents ever and don’t mention that Jax pretty much lives with Ana or the rotating cast of personnel through the house, there’s heart-to-hearts, there’s laughs, there’s drama, there’s friendship blossoming, walls breaking, truly incredible stuff

Then comes the inevitable. The day of the Big School Concert is also the day of the big Battle of The Bands or something. It’s some sort of contest where they play some songs and then they play one they were like assigned and they were assigned Space Oddity and one thing is that the judges are really looking for those strings but Di’s synths just aren’t cutting it; they’re timing and intonation just aren’t right. So Robb is like “Okay, you can’t ask any questions, and I’m going to be like on the wire BUT I will be there and I will bring strings. You have to trust me.” 

And then it’s Robb’s concert, and bananas things happen and he gets out of there with the bass and we’re switching back and forth between everyone being antsy and worrying and Robb booking it with this big ass piece of shit on his back and he’s in the back of the car fucking up his $300 suit. Maybe there’s a run-in with Eric? I kinda really want him to show up a little worse for ware for Jax to fuss over. 

And Jax and Ana and Di are like Bass??? Suit???? Hair half slicked back??? Are those LOAFERS??? Is that a BLACK EYE?? [one of the judges later asks the same thing and Robb just replies “We are a grunge band, ma’am]  But there’s no time to fuss! Because he rolls up literally like two minutes from going on stage!

They rush out and they play their song and it’s magical and fucking gay and Di’s going fucking ham on the piano and the whole room is vibing. Then they play a couple more songs or something idk I don’t want to like ruin this emotional high but I do need to justify the electric base being there for the next bit which issss

Di and Ana shove Robb and Jax into the dressing room and they FINALLY make out. And it’s amazing and heavy and full of emotional and physical catharsis and it’s just exactly what everyone -- robb, jax, the reader -- needs. 

And then there’s a knock on the door. Followed by “Robbert, darling, are you in there?” 

And Robb’s blood goes cold. Because of course Eric told his mother. Of course he forgot to turn his phone off. Of course, just as he finally has the things he wants, what he’s been craving for all his life, here comes his mother reminding him of what he is supposed to be. 

“What’s wrong?” Jax asks, “Who’s that?” But Robb can’t bear to say a word. It’ll all become obvious in a minute anyway. All he can do is hope that the sadness on his face shows, for once he wants his stupid face to show his goddamn emotion to the one person, and that Jax will know that’s how he really feels and won’t take this next part too personally. 

His parting words are to hand his electric bass to Jax and say, “Here, can you keep this safe for me? Valerios aren’t supposed to play these sorts of things.” 

And before Jax can say anything Robb turns away and makes his face a mask and replies, “Yes, Mother.” 

The door opens and there stands his mother, graying hair pulled into an elegant bun, still in the dress from the recital. Eric stands there too with his sharp suit, looking as if their tussle had never happened and like he didn’t need to wash blood off his rings. There were also a couple of men in suits, some of his mother’s assistants. One entered unceremoniously and silently took the bass from the room. 

“My dearest, whatever are you here for? I believe we agreed to a dinner at your favorite restaurant for your recital tonight,” it was Eric’s favorite, Robb hated the place, “This event was not on my itinerary.” 

“I apologize for the delay, Mother,” Robb said, as if he’d made them wait five minutes instead of running off across town and surely ruining their evening, “I owed a debt, and as you know that cannot be outstanding.” 

The barest hint of anger flashed over her face; she absolutely hated when he threw Valerio Family Names items back at her. He must have been hanging around with Ana too much, because he found himself relishing in having made her mad. The flash was gone almost before it was there, though, and her face was cool once more. 

“And what, pray tell, did you owe to these... people,” his mother said, eyeing Jax in a way that made Robb so angry he could feel the white hot rage in the center of his chest. But he was a Valerio, and he knew better than to show it like Ana was allowed to. 

“Did you not catch the show, Mother?” Robb asked, protectively stepping between her gaze and Jax and praying that it didn’t show his cards too thoroughly, “They required some strings accompaniment. I lent them some. Our transaction is done, I have no more business here.” 

He had so much more business here. He had results to hear. An after party to go to. Pizza to eat. Jokes to laugh at. A boy to kiss. 

But now all that business is done for. Who wants to hear results for a song played by a liar? Who wants to go to an after party or eat pizza or tell jokes with a Valerio? Who would want to kiss him after seeing who he really is: a spineless wimp who is doomed to live and die by his mother’s whims. This whole arrangement was doomed from the start, and he always knew it. He was just too happy to let himself know that. 

His mother was clearly displeased with him, but what was new? “So I see,” She said at last, “Well then, come along, no need to tarry in this... venue.” 

“Of course, Mother,” Robb said. A cool nothingness washed over him. He knew his lines. He knew his place. This was who he was. 

Robb left the room, not sparing Jax a single look over his shoulder. He told himself it was because his mother would certainly notice, and she would, but really he couldn’t bear to see whatever expression Jax was wearing -- betrayal, shock, anger? It would only break his heart further. 

As he left the room he now saw that Di and Ana were looking on in shock. Apparently they hadn’t stepped too far away. “Hey!” Ana yelled, “What’s going on?” 

“Did you not hear the entire conversation about what’s ‘going on’?” Erik asked, and Robb wanted to punch him again. Apparently Ana wanted to too, because Di instinctively reached to hold her back just as she began forward. 

“And who is this, Robbert?” his mother asked, as if they were at the zoo and she was asking which animal was in this enclosure. It was so hard for Robb to see Ana riled up without getting riled up too. 

“The leader of the band, Mother,” Robb said, carefully not naming her. She was nondescript, hard to track down by description alone. Hopefully more trouble than his mother thought worth it. He never wanted any of this night to come back to hurt the band. 

“Well, as you’ve heard, his debt is payed, so he is leaving. Say goodbye, Robbert.” 

“Goodbye,” Robb said, feeling like a dog, “Thank you for the experience.” That was as close as he could get to what he wanted to say. Thank you for being his friend, for being there for him, for letting him be dumb and clumsy, for a thousand things Ana has done for him. Her and Di and Jax. And all he can say is, “Thank you for the experience.” He makes him sick. 

And like that he turns with his mother and brother, because he is nothing but their dog. A spare for if something goes wrong. An extra to be married off for a good business deal once he’s ripe. That’s all he is and all he will ever be. 

He can hear Ana yelling after them, struggling against Di’s hold. He can picture Di’s face as he struggles between holding Ana back for her own good and letting her go because he knows she’ll at least land a hit. He tries not to picture Jax at all. 

But don’t worry because I hate sad endings but idk exactly what I want to happen but basically a few hours pass and then either Siege or Ana is like “So, when are we going?” and Jax is like “? Going where?” “To break your boyfriend out.” and idk, but it works out in the end. 

[thatlesbiannudistcult-stories]

Finding Goddess (Chapter 10)

The day at the office had been hell. Carol didn't know how she survived it. But somehow, she did. She mustered on, fought through the discomfort her suit gave her, and was able to wrestle her way to the day's end. And when the clock struck five, she was out of there like a bolt of lightning.

No sooner had she closed the door to her apartment did the clothes start dropping. She didn't even wait to get to her room; she just stripped every garment off one by one as she trudged purposely in its direction, leaving a trail of unwanted business attire behind her. By the time Carol set foot in her room, she was already completely naked.

"What a day," she groaned as she flung herself on the bed. "Thought it would never end."

By all accounts, it shouldn't have been as horrible a day as it felt. There were just a few manuscripts she had to comb over. She didn't need to talk to any pushy authors, let her ears get boxed by any middle management assholes, or sit through any unproductive meetings. But the constant claustrophobic feeling of being constrained in her clothes made the whole thing very trying. She had to make a few trips to the restroom just to relieve herself, and not in the way the restroom was designed to be relieved in. Sometimes she took off her top just to give her breasts a little time to breathe. Other times she lifted up her skirt just to let the air caress her bottom and her labia. But the result was always the same; get the clothes off her body, and expose as much skin as possible.

But it was over. She was home now, and she could expose as much skin as she wanted! Carol sighed dreamily as she let her completely exposed self sink into the mattress. After having to spend so long in her restrictive office clothes, it felt good to just be naked again. Unlike most days when she was done with the office, Carol didn't feel the need to get up and do something physically active. Today, she was content to simply laze around in her birthday suit.

Carol let herself doze off as she laid back in her bed, lightly caressing her body just to relish in the sensation of her own nudity. Her smile deepened as her eyes fluttered shut, and already the nudist could feel the comfort of sleep begin to wash over her with the promise of a pleasant dream to follow.

Then the phone began to ring.

"Goddess damn it!" she growled as she pushed herself upright. "Who the hell is calling now?"

Stomping to the kitchen where the phone was, Carol yanked the infernal device off the receiver and very nearly hurled it to the ground in fury. "What do you want?" she snapped, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"It's me, Katy," said the person on the other line. "I'm returning your call from last night."

Carol's annoyance was gone in an instant. "Oh, uh, right! Hi Katy!"

"Um, is this a bad time?"

"No, no, it's just...I had a long day at work is all. But I'm all better now. Especially after hearing your voice."

"Oh, that's good," said Katherine. "So...are you naked right now?"

Carol smiled deeply. If her girlfriend was standing right in front of her, she would have been flashing her best bedroom eyes at her. "Always," she said seductively.

"And will you be...later tonight?"

"You know I will. Especially since the kids aren't here."

"Oh, great! I'll be over tonight then. I still gotta do my workout for the day. Unless you want to come by the gym right now, so we can do it together?"

Carol had to take a moment to think it over. If she took Katherine's offer, she'd have to get dressed, and that wasn't something she was looking forward to. But on the other hand, she wouldn't enjoy being naked half as much if she didn't look her best. And she wouldn't look her best if she fell out of her exercise routine. She already blew the whole weekend without lifting so much as a water bottle. Though I suppose all the sex had to count for something.

"Sure, I'll meet you at the gym."

"Okay, great! I'll see you there...Mommy!"

"Uh...right."

Carol shuddered as the girl on the other line hung up. No matter how many times she heard that girl refer to her by that word, it would never stop sounding strange to the nudist's ears. For what had to be the thousandth time in her life, the mother wondered what she did to get into the kind of relationship she had with Katy.

***

Carol arrived at the gym, thankfully without forgetting to put on her workout clothes, and was immediately pounced on by her second girlfriend.

"Mommy! I'm so happy to see you!" cheered Katherine as wrapped Carol up in a big hug.

"Uh...happy to see you too, Katy," said Carol, returning the hug hesitantly. "But, uh, could you please not call me that right now? There are people here."

"Why not? Don't you always say you wished your daughters would work out with you?"

"I do, but that's different than what...we're doing. And I'd rather people not find out about that."

Carol loved Katy, really she did, but she wasn't a quasi-normal person like Henrietta. She wasn't just a girlfriend who liked to have a good time, in or out of bed. Katy had a very big oddity to her, one that had a long history tracing all the way back to her birth. Her mother died while she was still an infant, which left her to be raised by her father alone.

Now Katherine wasn't necessarily sad about never knowing her mom. But being forced to grow up without any sort of mother figure left her with a sense that there were a lot of things in life she was never going to experience. Like how it would be knowing there would be an older, nurturing woman waiting for her at home. Or what it would be like to have someone tuck her into bed, wipe crumbs off her face while she ate, fix breakfast in the morning, cook dinner in the evening, bake cookies, spank her behind when she was naughty, and...do all that other stereotypical mom stuff. Oh yes, she had her father, he did what he could to keep her loved, safe, and respectable, but Katy had explained that she just didn't think it was the same thing.

Motherhood remained a mystery to the girl all throughout her childhood, one that she would never cease to wonder about. As she got older, as she began to blossom into a woman, her curiosity bloomed into something else as well, something decidedly less innocent.

In short, Katy had a mom fetish. And in Carol, who Katy described as having "the bestest MILFy look ever," she found the perfect vessel to channel her kink into.

It was seriously the weirdest thing Carol had ever dealt with. This girl, who was admittedly young enough to be her daughter, insisted on calling her Mom or Mommy all the time, even when they were making love. Especially when they were making love. It was weird, off-putting, and more than a little creepy. Carol didn't know where this girl got her grossly misinformed sense of motherhood from, and frankly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Now, no one would ever imagine Katherine was her daughter. The two honestly couldn't have looked more unrelated if they tried. The girl was about a head shorter than Carol, her build was less curvy and more slender, her chest was relatively flat, and most notable of all, Katy was black. But the younger woman didn't let those minor details prevent her from living out her fantasy. If anything, she seemed like she was doing her damnedest to look as related to Carol as she possibly could. When the mother first met the girl, her hair was long and braided. But not long after they met, Katy had her hair cut and stylized into a smooth bob cut much like what Carol wore. The nudist never inquired what the sudden change was about, but she had an idea. And that only added to the creepy factor.

Even so, she was at least willing to humor the girl. Katherine thought Carol was a very attractive older woman and was absolutely gleeful at the prospect of dating a nudist, and Carol most certainly would not object to having a young lover. But...this whole 'Mom' fantasy the black girl insisted they indulge in was really embarrassing. Carol could only hope to the Goddess that her real daughters never found out about it, or else they'd never look at her the same way again.

"Aw, don't be that way, Mom," said Katherine tilting her head as she pouted cutely at the older woman. "Who's going to object to some simple mother-daughter bonding time? No one, that's who. The only one making it weird is you."

"Let's...let's just get on with this, okay?' stammered Carol." I've had a long day and really need to blow off some steam right about now."

They changed into their gym clothes, which for Carol were thankfully more bearable than her work clothes, if only because they allowed her to show off some skin. She wore a black sport's bra on top and a matching pair of biker shorts on bottom, which left her legs, her midriff, and her shoulders bare, and also showed off an ample of amount of cleavage. They felt...a little tighter than usual, but not so much as to irritate her. The important thing was she could at least breathe in them. Hopefully, she'd get through this workout without flipping her lid again.

Unfortunately, she had plenty of other reasons to be a little concerned, namely when Katherine approached her wearing more or less the same ensemble, only sized to fit her smaller frame. Her clothes even had the same brand logo on them!

"What of it?" Katy said, already sensing her fake mother's unease with her current outfit. "It's normal for moms to shop at the same store for both themselves and their daughters...right?"

"Uh." Carol couldn't argue with that. It is what she did after all. "Right."

After going through their stretches, which included plenty of gawking and appreciating of the other's body, the two got started on the treadmills. They ran in comfortable silence next to each other for a little while, just a mother and her not-daughter. In minutes, Carol could already feel the stresses of the day start to fall behind her, as if she was leaving them behind her as she ran the distance.

Running, exercising, generally any kind of physical activity had always been very relaxing and enjoyable for the mother. She had been a sporty girl in her youth, always wanting to get down and dirty in the fields with the boys. She had been quite the accomplished soccer player in her school years, and may have won it some trophies if only the rest of the girls on the team could pull their weight.

Carol sighed as the memories played out in her head. When she was a kid, she always dreamed about becoming a professional athlete. She didn't care what sport she got into: soccer was her favorite, but she also liked other things like baseball, basketball, volleyball, and hell, she would have gladly played some rugby or polo. They were all way more exciting than sitting behind a desk all day, like all the adults she knew back then. But alas, reality eventually came to kick her in the teeth; the barriers of entry were too steep to make going professional a viable career. Worse, not only would she most definitely not be able to get a job playing professionally, but once she reached adulthood, she wouldn't even be able to play sports for fun. Sooner or later, she would just have to give them up entirely, and inevitably, she did once high school came to an end.

Just another one of many things I enjoyed that I had to give up.

No, she couldn't think like that. It would only make her depressed. Carol may have given up sports, but she soon found a new enjoyment to be had from working out. Pumping iron and seeing how many miles you could run may not have been as exciting as ripping, tearing, and fighting to some arbitrary goal, but it still got the adrenaline pumping and the endorphins flowing. It made keeping her body fit and trim almost effortless actually. While other women pissed and moaned about their weights, Carol was slimming down and toning up like it was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't need to worry about fitting into a dress, especially since she looked good naked!

She sighed again. Naked...

She hadn't run naked for...for a long time. And she hadn't gotten a chance to run naked during her public outing in New Deastone. Now that she thought about it, she didn't remember how it felt to run naked at all!

It must be like the wind is blowing all around you, but harder, or as hard as you want it to. And you can feel it everywhere on you, even between your legs. Mmmm. And your boobs...they must bounce around all over the place. Sure, it can get painful after a while, but it does feel nice to feel them joggle about so freely, just for a little while. Oh, that must be so liberating. I can feel it right now...

"Boobs." Katherine's voice whispered right next to her.

"Yes? What was that, Katy?" said Carol.

"Your boobs, Carol! They're out!"

"Huh? What do you—oh, ah, AHHH!"

Her boobs! They really were out. Jumping and jiggling all over her chest. That feeling of liberation she was experiencing wasn't her imagination, it was happening right now! Somehow, she didn't know how, her sports bra had been pulled upward, exposing her breasts for all to see.

Carol was off her treadmill in a flash as she struggled to get her sports bra back in place, her cheeks burning as red as her exposed nipples.

"Are you...feeling okay?" Katherine said between huffs as she continued to run.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," said Carol. "No one saw me, right?"

"I don't...think anyone did."

"I hope you're right," Carol breathed, fidgeting with her top some more, as if she feared it would crawl over her chest again and expose her breasts once more. "I wouldn't want to get kicked out of this place."

"Then why did you slip it off in the first place?" said Katherine as she shut her treadmill down and hopped off to speak to Carol more directly.

"What?" said Carol, turning to her girlfriend. "I...did this?"

"Um...yes?' Now Katherine was starting to look very worried. "You just...stopped pumping your arms and used them to slip your top up over your breasts. I thought maybe you caught me looking at you and decided to give me a show." The black girl's lips curved up in a smile that was as warm as it was bashful. "I did like it by the way. You have such beautiful breasts, Mommy. I wish you could expose them all the time."

"So do I," Carol said wistfully. "But, uh, obviously, I can't! And not now! Let's just forget about this and move on to something else."

In light of her...unconscious stripping routine, Carol decided it would probably be a good idea to do something that would keep her busy hands...busy. Her eyes landed on the row of pull-up rings. Yes, those would work quite nicely.

Carol took hold of one pair, Katy took another, and the two began their workout. They had a system in place where they would do the same exercises together, try to get in the same number of reps, and try to keep pace with one another. They started out with some ring rows, pulling themselves up from an almost prone position on the floor to an almost standing position. Then they did the inverse, using the rings to perform mid-air push-ups. They followed with chin-ups and dips, pulling and pushing their whole bodies upward, and lifting their legs aloft for good measure. And as the two women went through their repetitions, Carol felt Katy's eyes bore into her form every step of the way.

There was absolutely nothing unusual about that. The younger girl just loved the older woman's body, loved to see it in motion, loved to see Carol clench and tighten and stretch herself out. She wasn't very good at hiding it either, and the mother was forever thankful for that, for it meant she was able to secure another friend and lover, and a young one at that! Even if she did have to deal with Katy's odd kinks.

I bet she would appreciate this more if I was naked though.

Oh, Carol could just picture it now. Holding herself aloft on these rings, performing somersaults around them like a gymnast, doing splits in the air as she stretched one leg out in front of her and the other behind her, her every muscle on display, tingling with excitement as the air flowed into her sensitive inner flesh. Katy would see them all for herself, see them ripple, see them tighten, see them pulse. Carol would clench her glutes that much firmly for her, pull her stomach in that much harder, perform her spins that much slower so that her girlfriend could take in her every motion as she pulled herself up. Then she would roll into a ball, squishing her breasts against her thighs, and twirl in the air atop her arms as they turned rigid from holding her whole body up. Then she would unravel herself like the coiled serpent she was, planting her bare feel on the ground with a deep inhalation as all her joints flowed back into place, her entire body glistening with perspiration, making her muscles look all the more sleek and shiny. Katy would not be able to resist; she would throw herself upon Carol, thrust her head between the older woman's legs, push herself onto her birthing tunnel, and lap at it ravenously. Carol would not stop her, she would simply caress the younger girl's head and gently push it ever deeper into her...

"Mmmmm...hm? Oh!" The world of dreams vanished in a puff, and Carol was back in the real world. Which was similar to the world of her fantasies, save for the fact that she was not naked, and Katherine was not eating her out.

I really wish she was though, she thought with a grimace as she ran a hand delicately over her crotch, which was tingling and throbbing fiercely from under her shorts. Damn it, I made myself horny!

"Mommy? Is everything alright?" said Katherine.

"Huh? Oh yes. Everything's fine!" Carol said with a startled jump. "Just...peachy."

"Are you sure? You kind of zoned out after a while. Like, you were doing the routine, but

in a trance. And when you were done, you just stood there with your eyes closed. I honestly thought you were, I dunno...sleep-exercising."

"I'm..." Carol wanted to say she was fine, but she knew otherwise. Too much had been happening all day for it to be a coincidence. No matter what she did, her thoughts just kept on returning to nudity and sex, and her body was quick to follow suit. But how could she explain that to Katy without sounding like she was losing her mind? Hell, how could she explain it to herself without sounding like she was losing her mind? Because with every passing hour, it seemed more and more like she was.

"I was having a fantasy is all," she finally said, which was true in a sense.

"Really?" said Katy, tilting her head cutely. "Was I in it?"

"Mmm, yes."

"Was I naked?" Katy purred, whispering that last word as she stepped closer to Carol, hooding her eyes seductively at her older lover.

"No, you weren't. I was though, and I was working out in front of you that way. Showing off my every nook and curve for you."

Katherine licked her lips. "Sounds delicious. I would have loved to see that myself. Not that I don't love you in your current getup, but...yeah, I'd love to watch you work out naked."

"You'd love it if I was naked all the time, wouldn't you?" said Carol, stepping even closer to her girlfriend.

"Even more than you would. And I know how naked you love to be, Mommy."

Carol could just kiss her, and likely would have right there, had someone not suddenly coughed attentively to her side.

"Uh, excuse me, ladies," said a muscular guy who was looking a little unsure and uncomfortable. "But, uh, if you're done using those things, can you maybe step aside for now?"

Carol turned tomato red in a flash. "Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, we'll uh, we'll get out of your way, sir. Come along, Katy!" Hastily she scurried away, pulling her girlfriend by the arm as she did, cheeks burning hot all the way.

Katherine only giggled in amusement. "Hee, hee! Think he heard everything we said, Mommy?"

"Be quiet!"

"Do you think he actually believes I'm your daughter?"

"I said be quiet!"

"I wonder if he thinks that's hot?"

"Young lady, if you do not shut your mouth this instant, then I'll gag it shut for you and smack your bottom so raw, you won't be able to sit down for a week!"

"Ohhh, do you intend to do that when we get home...or right now?" At this, Katherine turned around, bent over, and wiggled her round, shapely behind playfully at Carol.

"Goddess, Katy, you really grey my hairs sometimes."

Katherine giggled some more. "It's what I do best!" Her smile faded as a look of confusion suddenly came over her. "And, uh...what's this about a goddess?"

Carol blinked. She didn't actually say 'Goddess,' did she? Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. Now that she thought about it, it wasn't the first time either. Lately, it seemed like every time she had to vent her frustration, she always uttered 'Goddess' instead of the usual suspects like 'God,' 'Christ,' 'Jesus,' or 'Bob Next Door.' She even did it in her head, where no one else could hear her, and now that she was actively thinking about it, she realized she had been doing that unconsciously as well.

"N...nothing," she stammered. "I'll tell you about it later. Come on, we still have some more exercising to do."

Goddess, this was getting to be a bit much. All day it felt like she had been waging some kind of war inside herself, Katy wasn't helping, and she was still horny from her earlier fantasy. She needed to unload this stress somehow. Fortunately, she was in a gym, and knew just the thing to do that.

Carol had never really been one for wailing on a punching bag before. It just seemed so uncouth and unrefined, and the mother preferred to think of herself as a lover, not a fighter. But today, it was looking very punchable, and she was ready to teach it a lesson it would not forget!

"Geez, Mom, what did that bag ever do to you?" Katy chuckled once Carol finally stepped back, panting heavily as she admired her literal handiwork marring nearly half of the big red sack.

"I was...thinking of you," Carol huffed in response, flashing her girlfriend a smirk that she hoped looked evil.

Katherine only laughed. "Oh, you always say that. 'Bam, zoom, straight to the moon!' But we both know it's never going to happen. Gravity being a tough thing to beat and all."

"Then I'll just have to get a rocket," Carol playfully shot back. She had to admit, going wild on the punching bag was a lot funner than she thought it would be. It helped that it gave her a chance to unleash a lot of the tension that had been boiling inside her; maybe she'd consider adding it to her routine in the future.

"So is that it?" said Katherine. "Should we call it a day?"

"Hmmm...not quite," Carol hummed, giving her arm a good flex so she could check the size of her bicep. "I still got a little energy left. I'd like to see how many reps I can bench."

"Sure thing, Mom!"

They headed over to the weight-lifting section of the gym. After applying her chosen weights to the barbell, Carol took her position laying down on the bench press while her girlfriend stood over and behind her head to spot for her. After confirming she was ready, Katherine released the barbell from the rack and watched attentively as Carol got started.

One...two...three...four...five, six, seven...

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Mom. You're going really fast."

"Right, right, sorry," Carol mumbled. Take it easy, girl, this isn't a race. Eight...nine...ten...

"That's better. Keep it going, Mom, you're halfway to beating your record!" Katherine cheered.

Carol looked her in the eye to give her a thankful smile. Or at least she tried to. From her position, she realized her face was resting dangerously close to her girlfriend's crotch. It was hovering mere inches away, wrapped neatly in tight black fabric that left little to the imagination. So little that she could even make out the indent of her the younger girl's precious flower underneath. And if she breathed in especially deeply, she could even detect trace amounts of her distinct scent that assured the mother that her fake daughter was very aroused.

I could lick her right now, Carol thought with a hungry lick of her own lips. Pull my head up just a few more inches and run my tongue down her slit. I could just pull those shorts off her right now and eat her out right here in the gym. She'd be standing there, moaning loudly, crying 'Mommy' out loud. Everyone would watch us. Everyone would see...

"Uh, Carol? I know I might be sounding like a broken record now, but is everything okay?" Katherine sounded concerned again, particularly since she was now referring to Carol by name, something she only ever did when she got serious, worried, or seriously worried.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Because you just stopped all of a sudden. You're just sitting there, you're drooling, and, uh...you're holding the weight all the way up here."

"I am? Oh shit, I am! Hang it up, Katy! Hang it up!"

Katherine obliged her, pulling the barbell back onto the safety rack. Carol bolted into a sitting position, her body trembling all over, and not from the fatigue of weight-lifting. The black girl took a seat next to her and began to pull the hair away from Carol's face, her eyes shining with worry.

"Something's up with you. I can tell. You've been out of it all day. What is it, Carol?"

Carol shook her head in frustration. "I told you, Katy, I'm f..."

No. She wasn't fine. She hadn't been at all since she woke up this morning,

"You're right," she said with a relenting sigh. "I am out of it today."

"Do you...want to talk about it?" said Katherine, gently caressing the older woman's face in a way that was oddly very motherly of herself.

"Maybe. Perhaps when we get home, though. This place is too noisy for that kind of thing."

"Okay, I guess that works for me. C'mon, let's shower off. Taking a shower with Mommy helps me feel better. I'm sure it'll help you feel better too."

Carol felt another headache coming. "Okay, but could you PLEASE drop the 'Mommy' stuff for now? That's really not helping."

At least Katy was happy again. "Hmph, you're no fun."

Fortunately, the showers did indeed do a lot to take the edge off Carol's mind. Getting the clothes off and exposing her body never ceased to have that effect on her, and the lukewarm water spraying all over her bare skin was absolutely divine. For a lot of women, the gym's showers would probably be a very intimidating place, as there were no private stalls in this one; it was just one big open field of showerheads and drains, like what you would expect to find in a prison. But for an exhibitionist like Carol, they were fine. They gave her a chance to appreciate the local 'talent,' and find those who appreciated it with her.

Come to think of it, I think I met most of my lovers in shower rooms like this. You're just quietly looking around, admiring a boob here and a butt there, and next thing you know you're looking eye to eye at a girl who was doing the same thing you were. That's exactly how I met this particular girl...

As if reading her thoughts, "that particular girl" suddenly rounded her form and took hold of it in a gentle loving hug. Katherine buried her face in between Carol's breasts, her dark skin contrasting deliciously against the older woman's creamy bosoms like hot fudge on a sundae.

"Mmmm...Mommy," she whispered as she nuzzled Carol's boobs with loving grace, smiling blissfully as the soft, pillowy flesh squished and slid against her face. She looked so at peace when she did that, like she could just crawl between these two most sacred parts of the mother's anatomy and live inside them forever.

Carol wanted to sigh, wanted to push the younger girl away, tell her to knock it off and that this wasn't the time or place for that kind of talk...but she didn't. She couldn't really. For as much as Katy's fetishes creeped her out, she could never find it in herself to tell the younger girl to stop once she got really into it. Something about that gentle, seemingly innocent voice she spoke in, and the tender way she gripped Carol's body like her life depended on it really spoke to Carol's maternal instincts. It made her want to hold the girl and rock her to sleep like she was her own child.

You really are like a baby, Katy, she thought as she embraced her lover in return, running a hand daintily down her back. A baby with a well-toned ass.

Her hands came to a rest on the younger girl's waist, and her fingertips strayed nicely on her butt. It felt firm, hard even, still tense from the recent workout it had endured. It was such a cute butt, one that she would gladly hold forever if she could.

"Mmmmm," Katy purred, enjoying the contact, pulling herself even closer to Carol's form. The mother shivered as the younger girl's hardened nipples brushed against her flesh and began poking little indentations into it.

I could just eat you up, girl.

Carol responded in kind squeezing Katherine's butt even tighter as she pushed her closer against her form. She was tickled slightly when her public hairs flattened against her skin as the two bodies pressed into one another, and even more when a full bodied shudder overcame the black girl as they brushed against a very sensitive part of her.

Carol could no longer contain herself. I'll have you right now!

Katherine's eyes went wide with shock when she found herself abruptly shoved into the wall. She had only a few precious seconds to shoot her lover a questioning look before her right leg was yanked upward by a forceful hand, and something soft, warm, and tender began to press down on her exposed sex. She was pinned, her legs were splayed, and if she didn't know any better, it looked like Carol was going to...going to...

She gasped when a feeling of electricity surged through her core. She could feel Carol rubbing her down, grinding her crotch into her own, kissing her with her lower lips, again, and again, and again. She...she really was doing what Katherine thought she was doing. She was having sex with her right here in the gym showers!

"C-C-Carol...I-I-I don't think...haahhhhhh!"

Carol only giggled in response before she leaned in to nibble on Katherine's neck, biting the supple brown flesh as she continued to thrust and grind her form against the younger woman's. Her large breasts bounces playfully atop Katy's, gracing her chest with their bountiful softness, occasionally tickling her with the hardened nubs of her erect nipples.

Tits, teeth, breasts, and clits. Tits, teeth, breasts and clits. That was all Katherine could think about, all she could imagine. She knew this was wrong, inappropriate, and highly illegal, but she didn't care. This was good, this was amazing, Carol was so wonderful, she was coming onto her like a woman who always took charge, just like how a mommy was supposed to be, the mommy she always wanted to have.

"Mmmm! Mrrrrrr! Rmmmm!"

Carol was growling and purring predatorily between every love bite she left on Katy's neck, with every bob of her pelvis, with every squelching wet rub of her inner folds on the younger girl's. She was slippery with moisture all over and within, ready to bloom, ready to burst, ready erupt in a holy explosion of liquid fire, ready to...

What...am I...doing?

Carol froze in place mid-rub. She stood stock still, one foot on the ground, the other bent and wedged into the wall to keep her legs properly splayed so that she could properly meet her lover from womanly core to womanly core. Her boobs came to a sudden rest atop her lover's chest with a wet slap, and she had the distinct feeling that her clitoris was being squished at an odd angle. It felt good, it felt nice, it felt tingly, it felt wet with something that wasn't pouring out of the shower faucet.

And it was wrong.

"Oh my Goddess!" she cried as she released Katherine's body and backed away, her face scarlet with shame. "I'm so sorry, Katy, I...I don't know what came over me!"

Katherine leaned against the wall for support, her legs shaking like jelly, her own face flushed with its own mess of emotions. Arousal. Excitement. Embarrassment. Confusion. Dizziness. All were present in her expression. "What...what was that about?" she asked in a hushed, breathy tone.

"I don't know," said Carol. "Just...feeling your naked body so close to mine, touching me all over like that, it...it got me so excited, that I just...I had to..."

"It...it's okay," Katherine stuttered as she pushed herself up. "It was just...unexpected is all. I never...imagined we'd get it on in here of all places. It was kinda scary...but also kind of hot too." For a moment, she smiled, seemingly half out of nervousness from the prospect of getting caught doing something so lewd in public, and half in arousal from the prospect of...doing something so lewd in public!

However, it faded as reality began to seep back into her. "But...something is up with you, Mommy. And I really have to know what it is now."

"Yes. You do need to know," said Carol. "Let's...let's just finish up here. The quicker we get home, the quicker I can start telling you."

[maryannemagnolia-blog]

Report of a trip to Japan, September 2016, Buck-Tick related parts

Conversations with Japanese fans, BT cafe, Climax Together 3rd. I know it’s very late. I just want to post something and practice my English. My memories could be wrong.

Osaka, Yousukou Ramen

That small restaurant The Mortal members have been to in 2015. It’s hidden deeply in the streets of Umeda, difficult to find even with the help of Google Map, it was smaller than I thought it to be, there were only about 10 seats, and I wouldn’t say it was very clean inside.

The Ramen was very delicious, I was satisfied with its taste, but one bowl was not enough to fill my stomach at 3pm. Due to nervousness, I didn’t say Acchan-chan’s name.

(On that morning, I had much trouble finding a store called Umeda Loft, then the next day I had much trouble finding the live house Umeda Club Quattro, I guess the Feng Shui of that place does not suit my birth time.)

Tokyo, a hotel

I talked to the staffs of the hotel I lived in. One 20 or 30-something staff knew BT, when another staff who looked around the same age as him asked “What’s that?”, he answered “Old Visual Kei”, then praised my taste in music, “very good, very good. It’s rare (to see girls like me coming to Japan for bands like BT, I guess that’s his meaning)”

Tower Records Kinshicho

The Tower Records famous for a whole shelf of BT stuffs. It’s one the 4th floor (or maybe 3th or 5th I don’t quite remember) of a shopping center which is not faraway from the JR line station. If you want to buy BT’s CDs in Tokyo, I suggest you either go there or Tower Records Shibuya.

At the shrine of Morioka Ken, the boards had not been as full as they were in Cayce’s photos.

Sadly I didn’t have enough money to buy everything, I already bought many records in Osaka and Kyoto, so I only bought Mona Lisa Overdrive, Sabbat, Minus(-)’s D and the only one Togawa Jun album there (in the J-pop section).

Tower Records Cafe in Harajuku

On September 10th, I went to the Tower Records Cafe. I know there would be many people since the next day we shall Climax Together, but I didn’t realize I had to wait for two hours out on the street, but thank for the line of ladies dressed in black I didn’t get lost, okay several gentlemen were there, too, there were 40+ year old ladies in Visual Kei style outfits, 30-something ladies with elegant make up, in normal clothes, there were also JKs younger than me and 30-year-old men who looked just like any Japanese salarymen.

I talked to the nice looking lady behind me. She asked about the official translation of Buck-Tick in Chinese, it’s “花火師”, which means “pyrotechnist, it made her laugh so hard, and no, we rarely use that name.

I introduced her to Tumblr. She laughed again when I searched “Buck-Tick” on Tumblr, photos came out were Acchan, Acchan, and Acchan, “Nothing but Acchan!” Then she introduced Tumblr to her friends on LINE as a place to find many beautiful Acchan pictures.

She started another topic: “Do your parents love Japanese music, too?”

“My mom is Sakamoto Ryuichi-san’s fan.”

“She likes YMO?”

“She hates YMO.”

“Oh, then does she like Buck-Tick?”

“Not really, the only BT songs she likes are Jupiter, Dress and Flame.”

“Anyway,” she said, “I’m glad BT’s songs are liked by Sakamoto-san’s fan.”

It seems Sakamoto Ryuichi and YMO are one rank higher in dignity than all those rock bands.

When I finally got into the Cafe, it’s long past lunch time, I was very hungry. Climax Together 1992 was played on the screen, I felt very difficult to eat my pasta which was not spicy at all despite what was written on their websites while the man I love was singing about despair, pain, madness and desire to die.

Later, friends reported that they waited for 4 whole hours outside the cafe on September 12th, so I’m the lucky one!

Bar Teranga in Ebisu

It’s the bar Imai mentioned in his blog, owned by his wife’s sister Akane, who is also an indie musician. It’s hidden in the streets of Ebisu, on the third floor of a building, with only one tiny signboard outside.

I went there for the evil purpose of examining whether she looked as cute as she was in photos, or it’s photoshop’s doing (I’m not evil enough to think about meeting or stalking BT members, I swear), but I didn’t see her, that night only the male staff Takizawa Ryo was there, he is an indie musician, in 2012, some fans got extremely angry (I’m not sure why) after they found that the BT charity bags were sold at his concerts...but it has already passed, Imai has explained in his blog, Cayce has posted on her blog, so I’ll stop here.

The bar was small, gothic style, there was a wall full of Jrockers’ signatures, including all members of BT, Aki from Sid, Motokatsu, someone from D’erlanger, someone from Merry, Sakurai Ao maybe, and so on, I said “someone” and “maybe” because I couldn’t decipher their signatures which were all so artistically written. Only Shirosaki Jin, the big fanboy and former NO.1 host wrote readable kanjis. I heard there was also one written by Die, of dir en grey, but failed to find it. Aside from signatures, they also used Jrock magazines and BT tour goods as decoration, you can find BT stuffs even in the toilet. The Sakurai Drops box is surprisingly small.

There were three customers when I entered the door, all about 40 years old, two ladies, one gentlemen. I sat down, ordered curry rice and beer in English, the two ladies said “Oh, foreigner?” Then, one of them said:

“But why this bar... Bakuchiku fan?”

“...Yes.” I answered.

They gave me a very warm welcome by screaming and shouting.

“Do you speak Japanese?”

“Only a little.”

“Yokohama Arena?” She tried to speak very slow.

“Yes, but my seat is terrible.”

“Whoo, you come to Japan for a concert!”

“Uh...I came for sightseeing.”

“But your main purpose is the concert, isn’t it?”

And yes.

We talked about BT, Visual Kei and Jpop. “It’s amazing that Japanese music has influence on other countries’ people.” they said. Later, they began talking about baseball, Johnny’s idol groups, and the coming Visual Japan Summit (finally I remember that name).

The curry rice was nice. One of the ladies drank so much High-ball but her face didn’t change a bit, I envy people like her.

I left before all three of them, “Good night! See you tomorrow in Yokohama.” The Japanese fans said.

(Small information:

There is a bar in Minatoku, Tokyo, owned by NAO (BY-SEXUAL) and BT’s former manager Kojima, the name is “Azabu Kyuuban”, or “Azabu NO.9” in English. Many Jrockers had been there, including members of BT, Glay, Plastic Tree, Golden Bomber, Kishidan, Nocturnal Bloodlust and so on. Some BT fans love to go there after the Budoukan show, so if you want to go there that day, too, remember to pre-order.)

Yokohama Arena

There are big “横浜アリーナ” and “Yokohama Arena” words written above an exit of the station, you can follow the ladies in black as well.

I arrived at Yokohama Arena at about 12:30 pm, there was a long, long goods line in the rain, even there were many staffs selling the goods and they were quick, I think I still waited for more than 1.5 hours outside, and when I finally got into the venue, I found there were still many people waiting in front of me. Aku no Hana 2015 remix was played, when Kiss Me Good-bye was over, National Media Boys came, so they must played it for more than once, friends who came later than me reported they heard another album there. I heard almost one Aku no Hana inside the venue, than my turn of buying goods finally came.

It was reported by Japanese fans if you came at 3 pm, you did not need to wait, so I guess at concerts if you don’t want the most popular goods such as Sakurai Drops or Acchan eye masks, it will be better if you don’t come very early.

After buying the goods, same with many fans, I walked to a nearby shopping center, spent two hours there. One oddity was that, when I went to the toilet in the shopping center, everyone waited there was BT fans, I can tell they were fans because all of them wore either BT T-shirts, or typical bangya clothes such as black lace dress and black high heel boots, one of them wore a Mr. Matsumoto guitar print scarf, that famous one with red hearts.

Then back to the venue, people had already lined up for entering. Passersby looked at us curiously.

Since everyone has already watched the WOWOW video, I’d better not say too much about the concert itself, so just a few things:

1. Chandeliers were beautiful.

2. Beside me was a middle aged man, he cried during Jupiter.

3. People clapped their hands during the intro of Dokudanjo, it’s a bit hard to learn.

4. I didn’t realize Imai played Passing Mountain then, feel ashamed.

5. Imai’s guitar was so loud (noisy) that I could barely hear Acchan talking, and it was because Imai’s guitar, not my poor Japanese, Japanese fans have reported same problem.

6. I think you already know that, but the spoken words in Dress are “早く、行かなくちゃ” (I have to go, now).

7. Acchan said: “It must be difficult to see from there, I’m sorry”, then turned the stage light to the stage side and 2nd floor seats, fans who were lit up all waved their hands, screamed in happiness to him. He is a very gentle person indeed.

This year I plan to visit Japan again.

I will go to Fujioka, Gunma to see Imai Shouten. But before that I need to learn more Japanese.

Oh, actually this Gunma-chan (with serious bear) is not the first Gunma-chan.

The original Gunma-chan is this: