#stop being so hostile to me period

[spinecurlingmice]

>3< oh yesh i feel so fun on the inside

[ressq]

man i sure wish i had the energy to do anything at all!

okay well it's not entirely true that i haven't been doing anything. i'm cooking. trust.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Looking at the parts on Númenor in Unfinished Tales (and the LOTR appendix chronology) made me notice something Tolkien does with the history of Númenor that is very thoughtful, very important, and often neglected by other fantasy authors: he distinguishes between fighting on the right side and being the good guys, and he even delves into how those two things can work against each other.

Three times in particular, the Númenoreans help to defend Middle-Earth against Sauron. In Aldarion’s time, in the 800s, Aldarion spends much time establishing and rebuilding a port/haven on the coast of southern Eriador, to guard against invasion of the north through what will later be the Gap of Rohan. In 1700, Tar-Minastir sends a large force to drive back Sauron and rescue Gil-galad and Elrond and their people after the forging of the Rings and the destruction of Eregion. And, of course, near the end of the Second Age Ar-Pharazon sends the vast fleet and army that takes Sauron captive.

And each of these times are associated with successive stages in Númenor’s moral decline.

Aldarion is the first warning sign. His father, Tar-Meneldur, a wise man, discourages his voyaging, accurately fearing that it “sows the seeds of recklessness and the desire of other lands to hold”. Aldarion likewise marks the beginning of Númenoreans regarding nature as something to be valued for its use rather than for itself: trees as timber, not as forests. This is also when the Númenoreans begin to log Eriador - their logging will eventually be so extensive that, whereas virtually the whole area from the coast to the Misty Mountains to the Gap of Rohan was forested at the start of the Second Age, by the time of LOTR only the tiny fragment of the Old Forest remains. It’s not for nothing that the trees there are hostile to Men (and Hobbits). (This may not have been happening in the same way in Aldarion’s time - in Númenor he spends great efforts on replanting trees, nothwithstanding the ecological distinction between ‘tree plantations’ and ‘forests’, and he may have done the same in Middle-earth - but it’s still the starting point.)

And he does work extensively in Middle-earth to build defences against Sauron (or ‘the shadow in the east’; they don’t know it’s Sauron yet) and is described as “the friend and counsellor of Gil-Galad.” Yet the very growth in power, pragmatism, and expansionism that is involved in doing this is the start of Númenor’s downward path.

Next, we have Tar-Minastir, who drives back Sauron from Eregion during the War of the Elves and Sauron, following the forging of the Rings of Power, when Gil-galad, Elrond, and the Elves of Eregion are almost defeated. Unfinished Tales says “he loved the Eldar but envied them” and built a high tower to gaze westwards towards Valinor. And it is in the immediate aftermath of his rule that Númenor enters its phase of exploitative imperialism: his son Tar-Ciryatan is “a mighty king, but greedy of wealth; he built a great fleet of royal ships, amd his servants brought back great store of metal and gems, and oppressed the men of Middle-earth.” The next king, Tar-Atanamir, likewise “exacted heavy tribute from the men of the coasts of Middle-earth”, and was the first to be openly hostile to the Valar and the Eldar. The Silmarillion describes Ciryatan and Atanamir as “proud men, eager for wealth” who “laid the men of Middle-earth under tribute, taking now rather than giving”.

(As an aside: this is a period where I’m particularly curious about what Gil-galad and Elrond were thinking, and the decisions they had to make. The Númenoreans have just recently decisively rescued them, and it may not be going too far to say the Elves of Eregion and Lindon are military dependent on Númenor. And yet the Númenoreans are now mistreating and oppressing the men of Middle-earth. How to balance military/political pragmatism and ethics? Are the Númenoreans friends or not? Should they be trying to do anything to stop Númenorean empire? Can they do anything? Does benefitting from Númenorean military might while not doing anything make them complicit? Do they try to talk to the Númenoreans? And for Elrond in particular, on top of the moral vs pragmatic concerns, there’s the knowledge that it’s his brother’s descendents and successors who are doing this - in a sense, the only family he has left.)

And lastly, of course, we have Ar-Pharazon, who defeats Sauron but without being any better than Sauron, and who is corrupted by him, wreaks devastation on the men of Middle-earth and on his political opponents at home, and leads Númenor to its destruction.

It feels like this reinforces the themes of The Lord of the Rings, that victory over evil is not one by seeking to overpower it, but by renunciation of power. The downfall of Númenor highlights this by contrast by showing the corrupting force of accumulated imperial power, even when used against a foe that is genuinely evil.

[0asisbliss]

Yandere HXH headcannons

A/N: No specific order. Phantom troupe and other characters are separated though.👍🏾💞 Tysm for 300 followers guys!!!🤍

Characters included: Chrollo, Shalnark, Uvogin, Feitan, Nobunaga, Pakunoda, Phinks, (Phantom Troupe) Kurapika.

Warnings: Dark themes, choking, kidnap, mentions of murder, torture, gore, Feitan being his own warning, Non-con. NOT PROOFREAD

Phantom troupe:

Chrollo:

-`♡´- You’re special you’ve caught the mysterious man Chrollo Lucifer’s attention.

-`♡´- Keeps you a nice little room with no windows. Plenty of light though. Cute little lamps, posters of band you like or a anime. Fluffy blankets. You know you won’t be uncomfortable with him at all.

-`♡´- Yes the room might be all fine a dandy, but where you are located is a whole different subject.

-`♡´- As we all know Chrollo just doesn’t stay in one spot, but you will. He places you in a comfortable little cottage in the middle of nowhere. Even if you were to find a way to escape it’ll be hard find civilization.

-`♡´- He makes sure to check up on you every week, and if not evey week, every month. Chrollo knows that he’s not able to stay with you for long periods of time, so he make sure that your stocked up on every type of food you want. Water and supplies that will last you a while. In that case that’ll you’ll rarely run out of anything.

-`♡´- When Chrollo is there with you. He’s clingy. Not so much in a physical way more of a “Where are you going now?” Or “Why are you always getting up and leaving me. (Name)?”

-`♡´- Yes he gives you your freedom, but don’t get to happy. He has eyes everywhere. You can go outside, but he almost is always watching you.

-`♡´- He’s one of the people on this list that constantly has you under surveillance.

-`♡´- If you do decide to have the balls and leave. Once he finds you he will strip you of everything he gave you. Your no longer staying in the nice cottage he placed you in, you get any food that he gives you like it or not, and you going with him everywhere 24/7. No brakes. If you decide to be hostile that’s when Chrollo has to inforxe punishments.

-`♡´- Punishments can include spankings, restriction of food, No baths, etc. Anything that could make you dislike him for a while, and show you not to do it again.

-`♡´- Chrollo could never want to physically hurt you. He’d only do it if you decided to escape, and you run.

-`♡´- The only thing he’d do is break your legs. In order for you not run for a while.

-`♡´- Will not force himself on you unless you want it. He doesn’t want to scar you for life he just wants you to love him.

Danger level 4/10. Probably one of the most chill and nice ones on this list.

Shalnark:

-`♡´- I’m sorry for you really. He’s a meanie. Dressing you up in clothes he thinks looks cute on you. Mocking you when you say you don’t want to do something. When you beg, and cry for him to stop doing something he just continues.

-`♡´- He also treats you like his personal doll. Something that he can play with.

-`♡´- Shalnark most likely has you placed somewhere he visits often, or at his own home. He also has you chained up unlike Chrollo who lets you roam freely.

-`♡´- He is another one that is on the go very often, but he’ll stay with you if he has the opportunity.

-`♡´- He’s also the clingy type. He leans more on the physically side more than any one else on this list. Randomly hugging you from behind, kissing your neck when you two are on the couch, threatening to stick a pin in you if you decide to fight his affection.

-`♡´- He’s one of the people on this list that likes when you do domestic duties. He even buys you cute little aprons, and other supplies to help out.

-`♡´- He tells you ahead of time when he’ll be arriving home so you can greet him like the good little darling you are he wants you to be.

-`♡´-Will drug you if you become to hostile or try to fight him. He sees it as a win win situation. You’re calm but also vulnerable to him.

-`♡´- He’s a pervert :(. He gets in the shower with you . He’ll randomly take his clothes off and jump in with you offering to wash your back and clean your face. He touch your ass randomly too no matter how big it small it is. He thinks it’s soft. When he showers with you he expects you to do the same with him, and if you don’t suggest or ask to wash his back he’ll get pissed off and take it out on you.

-`♡´- He’s also one of the ones on the list that will force themselves onto you. He’ll do it while you’re unconscious though. And if you unlucky and your conscious while he’s doing it he isn’t as rough as you might think. He’s aware that you’re fragile.

-`♡´- When he’s doing while you re conscious he’ll mock you. He’s thinks your tears are so adorable.

-`♡´- He will kidnap you he won’t try to give you freedoms. Although he will give you access to social media. You can play games and even have a phone.

-`♡´- Don’t try to contact the police or any friends. He’ll know and you can’t do that anyway. He’s already ten steps ahead of you with that. He either locked all access to that or he disabled it.

-`♡´- Danger level 7/10. Will stick a pin in you if you piss him off enough.

Uvogin:

-`♡´- Awe man. He’s not as bad as you might think. He’s at heart a real sweet heart. Though he has audacity to act like your in a perfectly normal relationship he has his moments where he snaps back into reality.

-`♡´- You most likely go everywhere with him.

-`♡´- Uvogin is very clingy for his size. It doesn’t matter what size you might be. He is larger than you.

-`♡´- He takes you everywhere he goes. He another one on this list that thinks you feel the same way about him. Honestly it looks pretty sad when he realizes from time to time that you actually hate him.

-`♡´- If I could give you any advice it would to never try to escape. He another one on this list that will lash out, and hurt you physically. He does not care how much it hurts he will choose to punish you if you upset him enough.

-`♡´- Even though Uvogin has his moments he knows what boundaries are. He gets it. If you’re not in the mood right now he’ll back off.

-`♡´- For punishments he won’t just lash out on you randomly. He’ll only punish and harm you if you give him a reason.

-`♡´- He actually loves you. He wants you to be happy not just comfortable. He’ll try to ask you if want something or if there something particular that you might be looking at.

-`♡´- He gives you freedom to wonder around the town you two are currently staying, or even travel somewhere.

-`♡´- Like Shalnark you can have a device or devices of such. He won’t lock or block any number on your phone. He won’t even go through it.

-`♡´- Uvogin’s mere appearance is enough to tell someone to fuck off. And if that doesn’t work he’ll just simply kill them. It’s your fault anyway you couldn’t keep your mouth closed.

-`♡´-Honestly if you just don’t do anything to piss him off you’ll be fine.

-`♡´- Danger level 6/10. Not really dangerous unless you provoke his anger.

Feitan:

-`♡´- He’s the worst person to be stuck with on this list. Most people headcannon Feitan to be a Sadist but I think he both a Sadist and Masochist.

-`♡´- He just plain awful. He finds ways to toy with you when he’s bored. He’ll take down to his torture chamber, and take a finger nail or two off, and maybe a couple of teeth out.

-`♡´- When he’s not doing that he’s violently fucking whenever he feels like it.

-`♡´- Feitan loves you. He’s going to do things you don’t like. Feitan hasn’t felt this kind of love for anyone so he’s going to think of you as a threat. Something that is getting his head. You cloud his thought 24/7. It irritates him.

-`♡´- “C’mon pretty want to see your face.”

-`♡´- Worse part about this is that he has that shit eat grin on his face the whole time.

-`♡´- Sometimes. Just sometimes he’ll unchain you and let you roam around the house.

-`♡´- He keeps you in his room chained to his bed. Only when he get bored and takes you to the basement or when annually lets you walk around the house after dinner is when you get let your legs breathe.

-`♡´- All in all Feitan is a danger to society, and you.

-`♡´- My advice to you is to escape, and don’t get caught. If you do he won’t kill you, but you will have zero limbs. Sorry. :(

-`♡´- Danger level 8/10 he’s not that bad, but just be careful what you say. And follow every single one of his orders.

Nobunaga:

-`♡´- Nobunaga is delusional. Wants you around his 24/7 will never let you go. Want some space? Wheat is that again?

-`♡´- Will pout like an immature child if you don’t give him what he wants. He one of the people in this who will expect you to have sex with them sorry.

-`♡´- Will show you in physical affection how much better loves you.

-`♡´- He also one of the few you can manipulate very easily. Nobunaga is blind with his love for you. Simple kisses or hugs that you give him willingly instead of the one-sided affection that is usually there will leave him feeling like you actually love and care for him.

-`♡´- Will force himself on you. Actually cares if you cry. He’ll stop or if he doesn’t stop he’ll go slower. He also wants you to enjoy yourself. He can be a little selfish when it comes to pleasure, but if you ask him nicely to give you more attention he’ll be more than happy to give it to you.

-`♡´- Very nagging. If don’t give him your attention 24/7 he’s gonna be pretty pissed. He’ll drag you to the nearest bedroom, and show you how much attention he wants.

-`♡´- He will never physically hurt you. Punishment can include taking away baths or Tv privileges. (I know 😭)

-`♡´- If he does end physically harming you it’ll be spankings. Not as hard as Chrollo might be.

-`♡´- Danger level 5/10. He’s very good at finding you if you ever try to escape. So don’t.

Pakunoda:

-`♡´- She constantly gets you gifts etc.

-`♡´- She keeps you in a nice ass penthouse that she lives in. You can roam around you can even go outside, but she sometimes prefers you just go out with her. At least she goes out pretty often.

-`♡´- She likes it more when she’s making you happy rather than uncomfortable.

-`♡´- She’s also another one that’s overly clingy

-`♡´- She’s sweet, but she’s the type to kill on of your friends to show you she means business when it comes to your behavior. Don’t worry she’ll make it up to you by getting you your favorite animal. :)

-`♡´-Can’t outsmart her, and don’t even try to think of plans to escape. She’ll find out every single plan and tell you to not even think about it.

-`♡´- Won’t physically hurt you, and can’t bring herself to do that ever.

-`♡´- Doesn’t like it when you hostile or when you get angry. She’ll do her best to calm you down.

Phinks:

-`♡´- He’s sweet, but he’ll still beat your ass if you fuck up enough.

-`♡´- He’s sorta like Uvogin when it comes to patience. He has a very short patience span.

-`♡´- He wants you to be happy of course, but he also wants you to obey him. You have to always be self aware of your body language and attitude around him. He notices everything literally.

-`♡´- He clingy but in a suffocating way. You get up to get water and he is constantly asking where you’re going. You’re better off stating it before you get up.

-`♡´- Piss him off even the slightest and it’s back to the basement for you.

-`♡´- He likes it when you approach him first about things. If you want something just ask, and you’ll most likely get it. That all depends on you behavior though.

-`♡´- You’ll be fine. Just make sure you stay out of his stuff. He probably won’t tell you he’s a troupe member unless you find out.

-`♡´- Danger level 6/10 just because he’ll break your legs if you piss him off enough. Not the worse on the list though.

Probably one of the most delusional ones on this list.

Kurapika:

-`♡´- Probably one of the most delusional ones on this list.

-`♡´- Because of his lack of social skills he probably won’t be aware of you liking him.

-`♡´- He probably the only one on this list that wasn’t stalking you beforehand and actually knows you in ways you didn’t know he did.

-`♡´- He won’t exactly kill his rivals. The only time he’d go out his way to kill them if they threaten or harm you.

-`♡´- Will most likely not have you in any harm. Unlike other people on this list.

-`♡´- Wants to have children in the future with you if you would like it.

-`♡´- Won’t force you into anything, and won’t make you be anything you wouldn’t want to be.

-`♡´- He likes the way you say his name so he’ll get you to say it multiple times a day.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

What genuinely bugs me a lot about so called Free Palestine activists who celebrate October 7 - not just that those who actually believe it was a justified act of resistance rather than a heinous crime against humanity are, frankly, despicable, but that they celebrate it at all - has it brought Palestinians any closer to a free, democratic state than they were before? Has it improved their lives, the conditions in which they live?

Obviously and demonstrably not, because that wasn't the point of it anyway. Palestine will never be free while Hamas reigns - genocidal terrorists who care more about the completely unattainable goal of destroying Israel than caring for their own citizens. Resistance has never been their goal, freedom for their population has never been their goal - because they are the only ones standing in the way of that, they are the ones who abuse and oppress them and deliberately use them as human shields. That's all the Palestinian population are to Hamas - cannon fodder in their never ending Jew hating tirade.

In the almost two decades since Israel pulled out of Gaza and with the billions of dollars of aid they've received in that time period, they could have built the functioning, democratic society that people who live in la la land imagine will happen if Israel just suddenly ceases to exist.

At what point do you stop holding a neighbouring country responsible for everything terrible that happens and start holding the actual Palestinian government responsible instead? The leaders are worth billions, live lives of luxury in Qatar and have the backing of powerful nations like Iran. They are not, and never have been, some plucky underdog toiling under the mighty oppressive hand of Israel, a tiny nation beset on all sides by hostile neighbours, fighting for its mere existence every damn day.

I'm sorry, but caring about the welfare of Palestinians and supporting Hamas are not things you can do simultaneously without being a massive fucking hypocrite.

[what-eats-owls]

Show vs Tell, Or: Please Stop Making Things Difficult for Yourself

I said a while ago that I'd write a brief essay about the most misused craft advice in writing once I wrote 10k words, and for once I actually held myself to that! So now, I'm here to tell you about Show vs Tell, or why people make it more complicated than it needs to be.

First, a basic primer for anyone who hasn't heard this term before: "Show vs Tell"/"Showing vs Telling" refers to "showing" the audience information instead of "telling" it to them. You may be thinking, gosh, that sounds unspecific to the point of being readily misapplied, and you would certainly be right! Lots of folks throw it around without fully grasping what it means, how to use it, or when it doesn't actually apply. And I'd really like everyone to stop making it harder on themselves when there's a very straightforward way to conceptualize it.

So for starters, Chuck Palahniuk has an old but good essay about eliminating "thought" verbs from prose that holds the hell up. But I'm going to tell you an even simpler way to conceptualize the difference between showing and telling:

Eliminate the inner thoughts entirely.

Ask yourself, if my narrator's interior monologue was inaccessible to the audience, how would I convey the same information—literally showing it?

Forget for a moment that your medium is the word, and imagine you only have dialogue and visuals. If this was taking place on the screen or in a graphic novel, how would you convey that this character has a crush on someone in their class? That they're hotheaded? That they're struggling with a decision?

Here's a perfect example of this from the opening scene of Howl's Moving Castle.

Devoid of context, we have a girl trying on a hat in a mirror, and also trying on a fake smile. Then her expression sours and she pulls the hat down over her face until we can only see her frown. She's wearing a plain dress and the hat is simple, despite the elaborate hats and ornaments on display around her.

You don't have to know anything about this character to understand what's being conveyed in this moment: This girl is deeply uncomfortable with trying to be pretty and flirty, but in the safety of privacy she wants that, even though she feels inept and self-conscious about it. She's in this world, but she's not part of it. Even brushing up against it for a moment makes her shut down and reject it with hostility.

More importantly, it's all communicated with a simple gesture and design choices. Not by Sophie thinking to herself, I wish someone would take me dancing—no I don't! I work too hard to have time for dancing!

That's showing. And it's more resonant, because we've all felt silly trying something on in a mirror! Or, say, if you want to show a character has a crush, having them get flustered and laughing too loud. Or showing that they're a hothead by having them snap at a simple disagreement, etc. etc.

This also extends to worldbuilding, dialogue, and stakes.

Worldbuilding: If your story is set in a town run by a crooked sheriff, you could have the narrator say "everyone knows Sheriff Smith is squeezing the shops for bribes." Or the sheriff can stop the narrator for "smelling like weed" while the sheriff's drunken son speeds by, about to total his third BMW.

Dialogue: If your character is angry, they can say "I'm furious." Or they can slam dishes in the sink and insist "I'm not angry" while openly crying. They can snap "I'm not discussing this again." They can demand "What is he doing here?"

Stakes: You can have an all-seeing oracle say "If you do not return the Mystic Orb to the Sunlight Altar by the solstice, the world will plunge forever into darkness." (And as we'll get into it below, sometimes you actually need that.) You can also have intermittent but increasing periods of total darkness occurring as the party travels to the Sunlight Altar. You can have the Mystic Orb start cracking the longer it takes, and the sun getting a little dimmer with every fracture. You can have people's shadows growing bigger and bigger and acting autonomously.

But showing isn't the end-all-be-all; telling absolutely has a place. Sometimes it's better to quickly and plainly state information and move on, such as a little earlier in the scene, when the other hat shop girls have spotted Howl's castle:

"Look, it's Howl's castle!"

"I've never seen it so close!"

“Do you think Howl will go into town?”

“He’s gone!”

“No, he’s just hiding in the fog from those planes.”

“Did you hear what happened to that girl, Martha, in South Haven? They say Howl has torn her heart out.”

“Now I’m too scared to go out!”

“Don’t worry. He only preys on pretty girls.”

This tells us some stuff directly: Who owns the castle we see in the first few seconds, that he's hiding from soldiers, that he has a reputation for preying on beautiful girls. We can infer also that he's a bit of a coward, he stays away from civilization, and that his reputation for cruelty has spread over multiple regions.

This happens so quickly, and it's couched in enough character between the teasing and the gossip, that it doesn't stand out as capital-t-Telling. That's exactly what expository dialogue should do. "Showing" us all that information would take a lot of screen time that can be saved in ten seconds of dialogue.

It's also not just about saving time; it's setting up an image that Howl initially fulfills when he helps Sophie escape the soldiers... only to be punctured when she actually goes to his castle and sees the real Howl. Telling is good for setting expectations that you know will be subverted later.

So yeah, tl;dr: If you're tied up in knots about "am I showing?? am I telling??" just ask yourself how you'd convey the same information in a movie or graphic novel, without access to interior monologue, and evaluate if that'd be better. Most of the time the answer is yes, but not always!

[kingkunigami]

Scoring, In More Ways Than One | Kunigami Rensuke x Raichi Jingo x Reader

When you ask your non-writer friends to help you name your fic and you end up with football puns, but I’m not even mad about it.

This is a disgustingly late submission to @prettyboykatsuki​‘s Corruption collab. I’m so sorry that I’m now so late you probably forgot all about the collab entirely, but thank you so much for letting me join! This has been dying in my docs for months so it feels amazing to actually finish it and I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: You knew when you first started dating Kunigami that he took football extremely seriously, and it was something that you accepted about him.  He’s waiting until he makes it into the Pro-leagues to have sex with you, because he can’t have any vices or distractions from his childhood dream, but Raichi thinks you’re the biggest distraction there is.

Warnings: 18+, pwp, no beta, virgin!reader, implied/hinted virgin!Kunigami, threesomes, degradation from Raichi, praise, blowjobs, hand jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, spanking, sweat, cumplay, creampies, no protection, voyeurism.

Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x Raichi Jingo x f!reader.

Word Count: 8.6k.

Qualifying matches were often a hostile environment for your boyfriend and his football team, the tensions high as they made their way up the tables towards the finals. During these periods it was normal for you to see less of Kunigami as he spent all his free time practising with his team, but for a few cherished moments each evening, you’d have him all to yourself.

You’d been lucky enough to accompany him to the championships this year. Often having to resort to FaceTime, texts and voice calls to keep close during the distance in your relationship. But as well as getting to spend more time with your boyfriend during downtime and watching the games from the sidelines, this meant you now got to experience how hostile the environment could get with his teammates.

“That goal was mine, Kunigami.” Raichi snarled after shouldering his way into your hotel room that evening, “You always have to play the fuckin’ hero, huh?”

“You weren’t open,” Kunigami replied smoothly, towelling his hair dry as he stood at the foot of the bed with a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, “And we needed to win.”

“Are you trying to say I couldn’t have made it?” Raichi scoffed.

“There was no way,” Kunigami shrugged, “That’s why Isagi passed to me.”

"And you thought you'd just score the winning goal." Raichi rolled his eyes.

"Isn't that the point of the game, Raichi?" Kunigami tutted, dropping the towel onto the office chair in the room to cross his arms over his chest, “Scoring goals?”

"You're so lucky to have such a good guy ain't ya, sweetheart." Raichi seethed, pure venom dripping from his every word.

"Yeah, she is." Kunigami furrowed his brows, "And I think it's time for you to leave."

“Oh, am I interrupting something?" Raichi's eyes darted between you and Kunigami, assessing him in his current state of undress.

“Yeah, you are actually.” He continued.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to have sex with your girlfriend,” Raichi sneered, “Maybe that’ll stop you being selfish for five fuckin’ minutes.”

“Oh, we weren’t,” You felt your cheeks heat up at the blunt question, “We don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Raichi pressed, taking a step closer to you as he narrowed his eyes at you.

You worried your glossed bottom lip between your teeth at the question as you felt your heartbeat increase under his scrutiny; wondering how someone had the gall and confidence to ask such a personal question.

“We don’t— we weren’t having sex tonight.”

“You fighting?” Raichi’s tone became softer as he tilted his head to try and meet your gaze, subtly trying to check if you were okay before leaving the room.

“Oh, no. Everything’s fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Good, ‘cause if he does anything to ya you can tell me, you know?”

“Stop being an idiot, Raichi,” Kunigami uttered coolly.

“I’m not,” He growled, “I’m just checkin’ she’s okay, ‘cause if she ain’t I ain’t about to leave her with you.”

“We don’t have sex.” You blurted out.

Both men snapped their heads towards you in shock, eyes wide as you felt minuscule in their presence.

“You what?” Raichi’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked towards Kunigami, perplexed, “You don’t fuck?”

“Uh, not yet.” You replied as Kunigami narrowed his eyes at Raichi, stepping forward as though he was about to shove him out of your room.

“What does she see in you?” Raichi scoffed, “Neglecting her for football.”

“I’m not neglecting her,” Kunigami glared at his teammate “She knows the rule.”

“No distractions.” You murmured shyly.

You knew your boyfriend would be proud to score the winning goal, the goal that had his team going into the semi-finals. Excited to get back to your hotel room for the evening to get him to yourself for a few hours before he had to go and do it all again in the morning. Setting his alarm for the same ungodly hour he chose to wake up at just to make sure he had enough time to go for a jog before practice.

“Distractions?” Raichi laughed, “You’re that bad at football you can’t do both?”

“You clearly can’t.” Kunigami bit back, “How many goals did you score tonight?”

“That’s cause Isagi didn’t pass to me, asshole.” Raichi spat back.

You’d known about Kunigami’s rule before you’d started getting serious, laughing when he’d told you about it one night over drinks and dinner. Being with him for so long, you knew how seriously he took his craft, he’d made it clear to you that it had always been his dream to become a professional footballer and you were behind him one hundred percent. But you’d assumed his rule about no vices and no distractions would be loose, or at least easily broken.

Losing count of the number of nights you’d spent unable to fall asleep when Kunigami had left you at your apartment building dripping and needy, those gentle goodbye kisses often turning into sloppy make-out sessions that left you feeling hot and bothered as you grabbed your trusty vibrator to help get you off before bed. Disbelieving that your boyfriend's willpower could be that strong you still continued to try to break him down, sending him suggestive selfies and messages that did little to break his resolve.

“Why’d you think I call it my sexy football, hah?” Raichi grinned. shooting you a smug grin.

“You don’t have a girlfriend,” Kunigami continued, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” Raichi looked as though he was about to square up to your boyfriend, both men seemingly forgetting you were even in the room as they begun to throw their weight around to try and assert their dominance. 

“The sex must be good.” Raichi took a step towards you, “Is that it, sweetheart? He got a big cock?”

Raichi already knew the answer, he knew from the stolen glances in the changing rooms at Blue Lock that Kunigami was packing.

“I uh— I don’t know.” You felt flustered, a heat rising through your body and boiling to the surface as you tried to pat the flushed feeling away from your cheeks.

With all the lewd photographs you’d sent Kunigami, you’d never received one of anything below the waist. Save for the few that he’d send when he was getting ready for training, or the gym. Although, the bulge beneath his pants was clear to see, especially out on the field. It was no secret that your boyfriend was certainly hiding something below his belt, but you’d never experienced it firsthand. 

“You don’t know?” Raichi raised a brow in confusion, taking a step towards you, “Wait, you’re a virgin?”

It felt awkward admitting it to someone outside the relationship what your sexual status was, a man who was virtually a stranger outside of being Kunigami’s teammate. You nodded your head in affirmation as you glanced back at Kunigami behind Raichi, who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Come on man, you’re not telling me you haven’t had sex yet?” Raichi shook his head in disbelief, “Look at her—”

“Football is first.” Kunigami replied simply, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, “I can’t have any distractions.”

“Yet your girlfriend is the biggest distraction there is, just fuckin’ look at her.” Raichi’s eyes shamelessly roamed your body as you felt yourself inch closer to your boyfriend, looking over you as though he was a jaguar poised and ready to pounce on its prey, “Have you even noticed how pretty she is?”

But the thought that you didn’t even know what your own boyfriend looked like, that he hadn’t even allowed you a messy fumble in the dark had Raichi’s cock throbbing beneath his shorts. Even though football was his dream, he’d let his path to becoming the greatest player in the world stray if it meant a moment buried deep inside your warm, wet cunt.

“Of course, I have.” Kunigami found himself rolling his eyes at his old teammate, “But I can’t let it get in the way of being signed—”

“But that doesn’t mean you should leave a pretty little thing like this unsatisfied, ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

You chewed your bottom lip between your teeth as you neglected to answer the question. You’d lost count of the sheer number of times you’d touched yourself to the thought of Kunigami’s head between your thighs, or the sensation of him sinking into you for the first time. Your fingers were no match for how he would actually feel in comparison, you knew from the nights where you’d press yourself back against him in your sleep that he was well endowed, but if only he would show you—

“See, she wants it.” Raichi continued, taking your silence as the answer that he desired, “If she was my girlfriend I think I’d be permanently hard.”

“Yeah, well lucky for you and her, she isn’t your girlfriend.” Kunigami snapped back, clearly irritated by the conversation.

“I don’t know how you manage to focus on the pitch when you have such a hot girl waiting for ya.” He continued pushing your boyfriend's buttons, something he’d learned to do from months of training together, “She’s so distracting.”

Raichi caught you by surprise as he reached out for you, his warm hand cupping your cheek. Calloused skin from years of arduous training as it caught comfortingly against your soft skin, his thumb tilting your chin up to gaze into his eyes.

“I’m not like you,” Kunigami began.

Raichi’s gaze looked ravenous, predatory. As though you were a sheep being led to the slaughter and he was the rapacious wolf.

“I don’t get distracted.” You missed the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, the thoughts of giving into his desires now at the forefront of his mind.

“Oh, I know you ain’t nothing like me,” Raichi smirked, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks as he leaned impossibly closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. If you just made the slightest movement—

“Back off, Raichi,” Kunigami growled to your left, his nostrils flaring as you glanced towards him.

Raichi’s upper lip curled into a snarl as Kunigami broke your gaze from him, his gentle fingertips tightened against your cheeks as he pursed your lips onto a pout.

“Why? Someone's gotta take care of her,” Raichi continued, “Since you clearly ain’t.”

“I take great care of her actually—”

“Yeah? Let’s look at how wet her little panties are and then we’ll see, huh?” Raichi’s grin was almost deranged when he caught the way your eyes rolled at the suggestion, “Oh? You like the sound of that, sweetheart? Want us to see how soaked you are right now?”

“Knock it off, man.” Kunigami snarled.

You were unsure the last time you’d heard your boyfriend sound so indignant, maybe during a match when the referee was about to hand out a yellow for a minor infraction— the disruption to the game preventing him from reaching the goal line to score. Or the stories he’d return home with after stressful practices the ones where he’d spent the rest of the evening sulking because nothing seemed to go right.

“Why don’t you for once ask what she wants?” Raichi moved away from your face and stood back to full height. Still no match for the inches Kunigami had on him, but the domineering aura still surrounded his stature, “When’s the last time you thought about that?”

Kunigami was silent as his golden eyes met your gaze, his jaw tightened as he dwelled on the question. For so long he’d been so selfish, so focused on his own career and goals— his dream. That he never once thought about what you wanted. Too complacent in believing that you were going to be there for him through everything, and you were. You are.

“Thought so.” Raichi scoffed, “You can still be a top player and have some fun, look at Drogba—”

Kunigami remained silent as you watched the gears in his head begin to turn, much like he’d do whilst on the pitch as he tried to choose the next course of action. His next move. Your next move.

“You know your rules are fuckin’ bullshit.” Raichi continued, “You want to, don’t you?”

Raichi turned his attention back to you, and all of a sudden you felt intimidated to have both men waiting for your response. The air in the room felt thick and heavy as you tried to remember to breathe, your heart pounded against your ribcage as you barely breathed out a response.

“Yeah.”

The answer was all it took for the sharp-toothed grin to reappear across Raichi’s cheeks, with a final glance out of the side of his eyes to Kunigami he leaned forward again.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart.” Raichi whispered, his large palm curled around your neck to hold it at the nape, calloused pads pressing into the soft skin, “I’ll show him what to do to make you feel good.”

Your gasp was caught in your throat as Raichi brought you into a scorching kiss, his lips hot and heavy as you felt his dominance encapsulate you. His tongue bullied its way between your parted lips as you felt it lash against your teeth, exploring every inch of new territory. He was ravenous as his other hand moved to your hip, squeezing the supple skin as you let out a gentle moan.

While things would often get hot and heavy with Kunigami, especially after a particularly intense football match. He’d never kissed you like this. Breaking it off before it became too intense, too much. The restraint and control learned after years of arduous training and strict regimes, but it often left you feeling hot and bothered as you were left with a racing heart and sticky panties.

Raichi’s fingertips felt scorching as they travelled higher, slipping beneath your shirt to press against your skin. Your hands instantly moved to his broad shoulders to try and give yourself some semblance of reality as you felt him smirk against your lips at the action. Deepening the kiss as his tongue swirled against your own, his gruff grunts swallowed by your mouth as he let his hands roam your body.

Usually, this would be the part where Kunigami would stop, his breath shaky and eyes wild as he tried in vain to calm himself down. His hard cock straining against his shorts as he’d excuse himself to make a drink, or take a cold shower while you were left unsatisfied. But Raichi wasn’t about to stop here—

His hands began to pull your top up your torso, reluctantly breaking the kiss to pull the offending fabric up and over your head as he carelessly let it drop to the floor. Leaning back to catch a glimpse of the pretty black bra you wore that framed your breasts perfectly.

“Black?” He grinned, glancing over at Kunigami, “You know what black underwear means, Kuni?”

“What?” Your boyfriend raised a brow as Raichi let his thumbs stroke against the intricate lace, all teeth showing as he noticed the way your nipples pebbled against the fabric.

“Means she wants to have sex,” He grinned, “Wonder if your knickers match too, sweetheart.”

Kunigami’s eyes widened in surprise, there was no way that’s what the simple colour choice of your undergarments meant. But with the way Raichi’s eyes were roaming your exposed skin he couldn’t help but join him. You looked gorgeous standing under their gaze, the gentle glow of light from the hotel room somehow managed to cast some kind of ethereal glow against your skin as Raichi’s hands slipped around your frame.

“Is this alright?” He whispered uncharacteristically. Knowing that in that moment your answer would’ve meant everything as he waited for your response.

“Yeah,” You smiled softly.

Your heart was racing as Raichi began to fiddle with the clasp.

“You’re acting so cocky but you can’t undo her bra?” Kunigami scoffed, “Just like your football.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Raichi glared, brows furrowed, “I know more than you, wildcard.”

“That’s debatable.” Kunigami rolled his eyes, “Let me do it.”

“You didn’t even wanna fuck her, leaving her neglec—”

“Yes, I do!” Kunigami snapped, cutting him off as a faint hint of pink blush stained his cheeks.

Heating the admission from him had your heart fluttering, remembering those nights when he’d left you unsatisfied and needy whilst questioning whether he even wanted you at all.

“Yeah? So why not do it.” Raichi finally managed to grasp the clasp of your bra as the fabric went lax around your frame, the straps pooled around your elbows and the cups dropped from your soft mounds, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room.

Both men stopped in their tracks at the sight, their argument immediately diminished to silence as they took in the sight of your bare chest.

“Fuck,” Kunigami groaned softly, chewing his bottom lip between his teeth as he couldn’t take his chestnut eyes off you.

“You tellin’ me you haven’t even seen her tits before?” Raichi raised a brow in disbelief as he shot a look towards his teammate.

“No— well, yeah I have.” Kunigami mumbled, “She sends me pictures.”

Raichi’s eyes lit up at the admission, turning his attention back to you as he pulled the needless fabric from your arms, letting it fall to the floor as he honed in on you.

“You sending Kunigami dirty pictures, sweetheart?” He grinned, “You’re filthy, ain’tcha?”

He reached out to pinch one of your hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he tweaked it, tugging it from your body as he watched your lips curl into a pouty whine. Letting go as your breast bounced back into place.

“You’re gonna have to send me those too,” Raichi shot at Kunigami as he palmed your other breast, massaging it softly as you let out a gentle whine, “Can't think of better game motivation than that.”

“You aren’t getting shit.” Kunigami growled, “Those are for my eyes only.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure she’ll take some just for me. Won’t you, sweetheart?” Raichi winked at you as you felt your cunt clench around nothing at the thought.

“You wish.” Kunigami spat back.

Raichi leaned forward, bending at the waist to pull one of your taut nipples into his warm, wet mouth. Your back arched into his touch as you felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin, his tongue circling the soft bud as you tried to keep yourself upright. Your legs quivered as your fingers curled into his messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp as a salacious moan left your lips.

“Why not try it, Kunigami?” Raichi pulled back from your nipple with a pop, his tongue flicking it, “Look how much she likes it.”

You were surprised when Kunigami stepped closer, towering over both of you as a large palm cupped your cheek, meeting your gaze as if to ask for silent permission before he brought you into a sensual kiss.

His other hand reached up to hesitantly palm your naked breast. So used to soft petting and dry humping when you were both fully clothed, it felt exhilarating to have his hands pressed against your naked skin. His restraint was far stronger than your own whenever you were intimate, stopping just before things went too far but you were left dripping in your own slick.

“Rensuke.” His name was swallowed by his lips as he groaned into the kiss at the sound of it uttered so desperately.

“See?” Raichi goaded, “Look how bad she wants it.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Kunigami broke the kiss to shoot a glare at his teammate.

“You should know better than anyone that I don’t.” Raichi gave him a wide, toothy grin as he rut his hips against your side, allowing you to feel how hard and needy he was for you.

You felt Raichi’s thumbs dip into the hem of your skirt, teasingly tugging at the material before he began to tug it down your plush thighs, shamelessly ogling your naked skin as he caught the hint of your black panties to match the bra that was now forgotten on the floor.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” He grinned when he saw them, “And all lacy and shit too? You’re begging to be fucked, sweetheart.”

Kunigami felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he looked at the tiny piece of cloth that hid your most intimate area, his cock throbbing beneath his shorts as he thought about what lay beneath. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist to the thought multiple times, working out his frustrations in the shower as the loud cascade of water drowned out his groans of pleasure.

“I think you’re a fuckin’ liar, Kunigami.” Raichi pressed, “Ain’t no way you haven’t fucked this yet.”

“I haven’t.” He mumbled. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but Ego’s words continued to ring in his ears about distractions that could stop him from reaching his dream. The wildcard made him come too close to failure, he couldn’t face that again.

“So it must be that you ain’t got a clue what you’re doing then?” He continued.

“I know what I’m fucking doing.” The sound of Kunigami swearing had your clit throbbing as both men bickered beside you.

“Yeah?” Raichi scoffed, turning his attention to you, “You think he knows what he’s doing, sweetheart? Or do you think I could make you cum harder?”

You didn’t answer, already seeing the fury in your boyfriend's eyes as he moved your body as though you weighed nothing. Years of intense training built him into a wall of muscle as you felt the backs of your thighs hit the plush hotel bed, falling back onto the mattress as Kunigami stalked you like prey. Nimble fingers curled into the hem of your panties as he peeled them from your body. Both men watched the way the crotch stuck to your skin from how wet you were, glossy strings of your slick breaking off against your slit and inner thighs as Raichi swore beneath his breath.

“Jesus, Kunigami.” Raichi growled, “How the fuck are you not bedding this every damn night.”

Kunigami couldn’t respond, he wasn’t even sure of the answer himself. Not that he had any experience, but he was certain you had the most perfect pussy he’d ever lay his eyes on. His cock jumped at the sight as the glossy mess of your slick glistened beneath the room's lighting.

“I’d wanna be buried inside her permanently, shit.” Raichi groaned as he tugged his shirt up, pulling it from the back as he displayed his toned muscles.

“Shame she isn’t your girlfriend then, isn’t it?” Kunigami rolled his eyes, flexing his own muscles as a subtle display of dominance.

“You ever had this pretty pussy ate, sweet girl?” Raichi climbed onto the bed beside his teammate as he began to run a palm up your inner thigh, nimble fingers stroking against the apex as he touched dangerously close to your labia, “Look at her— She’s so fucking pretty isn’t she? She deserves it.”

You shook your head wordlessly as you felt like an innocent lamb captured by two hungry wolves. Feasting on you with their predatory gazes as they thought about consuming you whole.

“Let me show you what it feels like, yeah?” Raichi’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned down, unabashedly breathing in through his nose to inhale the scent of you.

“If anyone’s going to be tasting her, it’ll be me.” Kunigami shouldered him roughly, settling himself between your thighs as he shot Raichi a glare.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Raichi scoffed.

“Yes.” Kunigami shot back, but you could hear the underlying uncertainty in his tone.

“Yeah? Let’s see then, wildcard.”

Kunigami met your gaze as if asking for silent permission as he lowered himself onto his chest, one of his muscular arms wrapped around your thigh as he took a moment to stare at your glossy slit, your essence dripping from your tiny hole and trickling down the curve of your ass. Whining, you shifted your hips slightly, a silent invitation for him to do something as you felt both men's eyes on your naked body.

“Sorry, princess,” He hummed gently, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your clit which had your entire body convulsing. Your hips jerked wildly as Kunigami’s arm tightened around your thigh to stop you from moving away.

“Holy fucking shit, she’s so sensitive.” Raichi groaned, leaning down to palm himself through his shorts.

Kunigami tentatively poked his tongue out to taste you, licking his lips as his warm breath tickled your skin. Gliding it through your messy folds as he found your slick entrance, pressing forward so the tip disappeared inside you. Your hand weaved into his messy hair as you held him tight, your iris’ blown as you tried to control your breathing. The sensation was nothing like you’d ever felt before, certain that your fingers and toys could never replicate the feeling.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Raichi grinned as he moved up the bed to kneel by your face.

“Yeah,” You nodded as Kunigami continued to feast on your cunt, his tongue dipping inside your tight entrance to taste more of you as you languidly rolled your hips into him.

His palm splayed against your soft mound as he used his fingers to spread your lips apart, giving him better access as he slurped on your folds. The soft timber of his groans vibrated against your hole as his nose occasionally nudged your clit.

“Think you can handle sucking my cock while Kunigami eats that pretty pussy?” Raichi stroked your cheek, so unused to seeing this soft, sweet side of him as you nodded obediently.

The change in his expression was swift. A dark, depraved smirk etched into his features as he was quick to pull his shorts down. The heavy weight of his cock flopped out as he let his shorts rest around the curve of his ass. The fat tip was a dark pinkish hue as pre began to bead in his slit, his fist wrapping around his girth to give himself a teasing pump as he noticed the nervous expression on your face.

“You ever sucked cock before, sweetness?” He asked as you shook your head.

“That’s cute, you gonna be good at it. I can tell.” He pressed the tip of his cock against your parted lips as you felt the tacky sensation of his cum coat them. Smearing it against them before you experimentally poked the tip out to taste him.

“Fuuuck, that’s it. Good girl.” He groaned as he pushed forward, watching the head slowly disappear between your parted lips, “Get it all nice and wet for me.”

You moaned around him as you felt the stretch in your jaw from his sheer size, Kunigami’s tongue still persistent inside your cunt as Raichi began a slow, steady pace.

“Jesus christ, Kunigami. What the fuck have you done together? Nothin’?” He groaned, “You got no clue what you’re missing out on.”

Your tongue followed the thick vein on the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head, feeling lightheaded from the combination of pleasure as Kunigami remained buried between your thighs.

“Suck her clit,” Raichi goaded, ���Do you even know what that is?”

“Course I fucking do.” Kunigami snarled.

“Then do it, idiot.” Raichi spat back.

You were caught by surprise when Raichi leaned down to press his palm against the back of Kunigami’s head, his fingers weaving into his hair as he tugged roughly. Deliberately moving his lips towards your puffy clit, the sudden sensation had your hips bucking off the bed as you cried out the moment that Kunigami wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub.

“That’s it, she liked that. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” Raichi grinned, “Bet that pretty little pussy is creaming right now. Kunigami add a finger, stretch her out.”

Kunigami followed the instruction as he pressed his middle finger against your tight entrance, groaning against your clit when he felt the way your walls clung to him.

“Curl it up slightly, she’ll love it.” Raichi continued as Kunigami began to pump his finger in and out of your slick heat, curling it slightly but just enough for it to barely brush against the spongy spot inside you.

“Come on, man. Fuckin’ curl it-” Raichi pressed, grunting when your tongue lapped against his slit as you tasted fresh pre, “Can’t even take simple instruction.”

Raichi leaned down between your thighs as he pressed his index finger against your tight entrance, breaching your hole as his digit joined Kunigami’s. Bending his finger almost painfully as he deliberately pushed it against the spot inside you.

“I can do it better,” Kunigami growled as he tried desperately to find that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Raichi goaded with a sly smirk.

“Piss off,” Kunigami growled.

“You wanna curl it until you find it,” Raichi grinned, his eyes remaining focused on your face until he got the indication he needed. Your thick lashes fluttered as a sultry moan vibrates against his cock, “There it is.”

Kunigami obediently followed Raichi’s instructions, both men fucking into you gently with their fingers. You felt your toes curl as your legs began to shake, their movements unsynchronised which had both of them simultaneously brushing against the spongy spot inside you and not allowing you a moment's respite.

“Can you feel that? Her little pussy’s clenchin’ she’s gonna cum, aren’t you sweetheart?”

You weren’t sure you could talk, even without Raichi’s cock in your mouth as you felt yourself coming closer to the edge. Kunigami’s lips were still wrapped firmly around your clit as both men tried to outdo each other by roughly fingering you. Blunt nails dragged against your warmth as you felt the coil inside you snap, a desperate moan vibrating against Raichi’s cock as you came hard.

“Fuck, beautiful.” Kunigami moved back to watch you cum, your eyes rolling as your chest began to heave.

“Don’t fuckin’ stop, idiot.” Raichi chastised as he moved his fingers to your puffy clit, pressing all four against it as he began to press fast circles against it, “Help her ride out her climax, Jesus.”

“Fuck,” Your voice was muffled by Raichi’s cock as you felt yourself being goaded towards another harsh climax. Your tight hole clenched around Kunigami’s finger as both men watched intently.

“Gonna cum again, sweetheart?” Raichi cooed, “Show me.”

You couldn’t hold back, your chest heaving as another intense orgasm was stolen from you. The lack of oxygen made it difficult to breathe as you felt your thighs become lax.

“God, she’s so fuckin’ pretty.” Raichi gave a sudden rut of his hips that had the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as you began to cough and splutter around him.

“Oi!” Kunigami growled, moving from his position between your thighs to sit up on his knees. Chestnut eyes gazed down at you with concern as he rubbed soft circles into your thighs, uncaring that your slick was now leaving glistening lines against your skin and dribbling down his chin.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry.” He smiled apologetically as Kunigami glared at him.

“Careful, asshole,” Kunigami growled, looking as though he was ready to fight him even in this state.

“I said I was sorry, man. Felt too fuckin’ good.” Raichi shrugged, “You liked it though, didn’t you sweetheart?”

You couldn’t respond, your chest still heaving in gulps of air as you tried to calm your racing heart from the two mind-numbing orgasms you’d just been gifted, unsure if you could handle a third.

“Yeah, you did.” He grinned, “It’ll feel even better in your pretty pussy.”

Raichi gave his cock a languid tug as he moved to shift down the bed, a motion that was stopped abruptly by Kunigami who pushed his shoulder back with a harsh shove.

“You’re not putting it in.” He growled.

“Oh, so now you suddenly want to fuck her?” Raichi glared.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck her.” Kunigami bit back.

“Yeah? So why’d you neglect her for so long?”

Neglect.

The word hurt Kunigami. He’d never seen it that way before. So focused on his own career and goals he never once thought to ask about your thoughts or feelings. So certain that you were content in the relationship with him. He’d done everything he could in his power to make sure that you felt loved, cherished and important whenever he was with you, it was difficult to believe that he’d made you feel this way for so long but now he had the chance to make it up to you and he was determined to prove that he could.

“You okay?” Kunigami questioned softly as he lined himself up with your tight entrance, smoothing the tip of his cock through your messy folds to coat himself with your essence.

“Yeah,” You breathed deeply, weaving your arms around his back as you felt him slowly start to breach your walls. The fat tip of his cock stretched you out as you shifted uncomfortably beneath him, trying to ignore the dull ache that was now throbbing through your lower half.

Raichi’s fingers reached out to pinch and tug at your pebbled nipples, trying to distract you from the pain as you felt Kunigami begin to push deeper. His movements were slow and uncertain, worried as though he may hurt you more if he went too fast. But you were choking on air as you tried to pull him deeper, your thighs wrapping around his waist in a feeble attempt to get him to bottom out as you murmured.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kunigami whispered, stroking his fingers against your hips as he began to give quick, shallow thrusts to try and stretch you out more. Watching his cock slowly disappear inside your warmth, “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” You exhaled, unsure how else to describe the sensation as Kunigami set a steady pace, “Oh, fuck.”

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?” He murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your parted lips as you hummed softly. The dull ache between your thighs slowly morphing into pleasure.

Each forward thrust felt like Kunigami was splitting you open, his thick cock stretching your pliant walls into the shape of him as you clung to his muscular arms. There’s something about the way Kunigami handles you, so full of care and poise— as though he’s terrified that if he’s too rough he might break you, preventing the cracks like cradling fine bone china.

“Fuck her properly,” Raichi rolls his eyes, noticing the way his teammate gently cants his hips forward. His strong hands moved down to Kunigami’s hips as he grips him tight, pushing him forward to plunge his thickness deeper inside you as you let out a salacious groan.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kunigami growls, his hand flailing wildly behind him in an attempt to shove Raichi away, still buried deep inside your warm heat.

“Move your hips like this,” Raichi’s fingertips pushed into Kunigami’s sides hard, angling him slightly so the curve of his cock was brushing against the same spot inside you with each forward motion. Delving deeper instead of catching against your inner walls and making you wince, the slightest change now had you crying out in pleasure.

“That’s it,” He grinned, “See— look how much she fuckin’ loves it.”

You’re so wet, so warm, so tight— it has Kunigami’s mind reeling as he rocks his hips into you, chestnut eyes focused on your reaction with each languid movement. The change in angle has him seemingly deeper inside you, as the tip of his cock fucks deep enough to meet your cervix.

“More, fuck— Ren. Please, fuck me hard.”

“Listen to her, practically begging for it,” Raichi grins, reaching up to palm one of your bouncing breasts, “You’ve had her desperate and needy for too long, Kunigami.”

He obliges as the sheer force of his thrusts have you squealing out for him, fat tears now clinging to your thick lashes as they blur your vision. Quickly blinking them back in order not to obscure the view of your boyfriend ploughing into your body above you. Even on the pitch, you’ve yet to see him this ravenous, this hungry. Your nails dig into the expanse of his arms as you leave crescent-shaped moons in their wake, certain to leave marks, reminders of this night together.

“How many times have you played with this sloppy pussy to the thought of this, huh?”

You can’t even answer, any coherent thoughts fled from your mind the moment you felt Kunigami slide his thick cock inside your eager cunt. The only thing that matters to you now is the pleasure building inside your core, tightening with every pronounced thrust. The slick sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room as you try desperately to try and match his rhythm. The attempts were futile from this position as you can do nothing more but lay there and take everything Kunigami has to give you.

“Oi,” Raichi prompts, his calloused fingers pinching at your taut nipple roughly, “Answer the question, pretty girl.”

“What question?” You mumble deliriously as Kunigami hits that same spot inside you with such precision.

“How many times you touched yourself to the thought of this?” He almost growls, fingers pinching and pulling your hardened buds as you whine.

“A lot.” You feel the air caught in your throat when your walls begin to clamp down around Kunigami, your orgasm hovering over you as he continues sending you over the edge.

“Thought so, you dirty girl.” Raichi smirks, teeth gleaming beneath the harsh lights as your fingers fist the white hotel sheets, “That’s why this pussy's so greedy, huh?”

You’re certain you can’t last much longer, not with the way Kunigami is plunging inside your tight heat, every single thrust has him pushing you further up the mattress towards the headboard as his entire body is practically on top of you now, making you feel minuscule in comparison as he continues his pace.

“Rensuke,” You whispered, “I’m gonna cum.”

The admission has Kunigami’s pace faltering, a choked “shit” leaving his lips as his hips stutter inside you. Warm hands holding your thighs even tighter as you're certain his grip will bruise your soft skin.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Raichi cooed, “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

The words seem to have Kunigami moving with more vigour, as though he’s desperate to have you bolting into your own pleasure before he finds his. The molten heat radiating from between your thighs is scorching, your slick coating your skin and making him stick to you comfortably as he wrecks your tight cunt.

“Someone to ruin your sloppy little pussy.” Raichi’s words did nothing to satiate the desire building inside you,

“Shit, shit, shit,” You cry in time with each rough thrust Kunigami gives you, unable to hold back any longer, “I’m cumming.”

The dam inside you finally bursts as you feel yourself succumb to the pleasure coursing through you. A jumbled cry of Kunigami’s name spills from your lips as your release trickles around his thick cock, your walls clamping down around him as he follows you into euphoria.

“Fuck,” Kunigami snarled, his hips stuttering as his climax caught him off guard. Unable to stop himself as he came deep inside you. Scorching hot spurts of cum coat your inner walls as he fills you with his release, fucking it deeper inside you as he gives a few more shaky cants of his hips before he’s pulling himself from your warmth, creamy rings of your slick glistening around the base of his softening cock as he collapses beside you on the bed.

Raichi immediately pulls one of your thighs up towards him at the top of the bed, causing Kunigami to spit out a harsh “Careful.” as he practically moved you like a Ragdoll.

“Can I, sweetheart?” His thick tip smooths through your wet folds, coating himself in your slick as his head nudges your sensitive clit, “Promise I’m clean.”

“That’s debatable.” Kunigsmi scoffed.

“Man, fuck you.” Raichi shot his friend a glare before gazing back down at you, “Please?”

You stare up at him in a daze as you nod, your hips jerking when you feel him tap the underside of his cock against your clit.

“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart. Try again.” He coos.

“Yeah,” You mumble, “Yes, please.”

Raichi doesn’t waste a moment before his hard cock was buried deep inside your sopping cunt, feeling the final tremors of your climax as your walls clenched around him.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans, “Such a slut letting me fuck you raw, ain’tcha.”

You were embarrassed by the crude squelch your cunt made each time Raichi drove his hips forward, the stretch and the mixture of cum had your cheeks inflamed as you tried to hide your face with your palms.

“Aw, baby. Don’t hide your pretty face,” Raichi cooed, one of his palms reaching up to wrap around your wrist to show him your face again, “Listen to how sloppy your little pussy is. Making such pretty noises for me.”

His other hand pressed your thigh up, changing the angle as your knee was positioned near your face. The movement increased the lewd sounds as you felt your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. Unlike Kunigami, Raichi showed no care or concern for your comfort. Fucking into your pliant body with vigour as he chased his own release, the slick sounds only goading him on as you felt his balls slap against your ass with each vigorous thrust.

“Acting all sweet and innocent,” Raichi cooed, “But you’re a slut aren’t you, pretty girl?”

A rough hand caught the curve of your ass, slapping against your upper thigh as you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure. The contrast in the way either manhandled you had you throbbing around Raichi’s cock as Kunigami sat up to stop him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snarled, a darkness to his tone that you weren’t sure you’d heard before, the sound had your tight cunt clamping down around Raichi’s cock.

“Fuck— come on, man. She fucking loves it, don’t you?” He gave you another smack and the moan that left your throat was damn near sinful, “See. God, your sloppy pussy is making such a mess of my cock. Or is that you, Kunigami.”

Raichi leaned back to shamelessly stare down at where your bodies were connected, the loud squelch of your cunt intensifying as he saw the mixture of juices glistening against his cock.

“What a messy little pussy,” He smirked, “You got no idea how much I’ve thought about this, sweetness.”

His admission had you struggling for air, your heart racing as he continued his fast, harsh pace. Everything about him was a stark contrast to your soft and sensual lover Kunigami. Each stroke had a brute force behind it that had you crying out, your boyfriend's warm palm stroking your face to ease the tension as he pressed a soft kiss to your dewy temple. His other hand was wrapped around his throbbing cock, the site of you laying back so salaciously had him groaning deep and guttural in his chest as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips. 

You hesitantly reached out to wrap your hand around Kunigami’s cock instead, pulling another deep groan from his lips as he watched you slowly stroke his cock while Raichi continued driving his hips forward into you. His larger palm wrapped around yours to tighten your grip against his length as he set a consistent pace, his hips jerking up off the bed as he fucked into your fist. 

“Gonna make such a mess of this pretty pussy,” Raichi groaned.

Raichi’s fingers dug into your thighs almost uncomfortably as he held onto both for leverage, feeling him almost fold you in two as his sweaty body stuck to your skin.

“Jesus, Kunigami.” Raichi growled, “How the fuck are you not bedding this every damn night.”

There was a predatory glint in Raichi’s eyes as his gaze seared into your skin, the hungry desire all-consuming as you thought he may devour you whole. Sweat beaded against his temples as he set his relentless pace, the crude squealing sound only echoed around the hotel room as you allowed him to use your body as he pleased.

“I’d wanna be permanently buried inside her.” He continued, “She’s so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yeah, well it’s a shame you’ll only get this one chance, huh?” Kunigami spat back, “So you better enjoy it while you can.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He smirked back with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Both men bickered as though you weren’t even in the room, as though one wasn’t currently buried balls deep inside your tight, warm heat. The mushroomed head of his cock hitting the deepest part of you with each buck of his hips, the thick veins running along his length dragging against your spongy walls with each movement that had you hurtling towards another climax like a train about to derail.

“Fuck,” You whined as you felt Raichi hit deep inside you, the pleasure coursing through your body and lumping in your throat as you clung to the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the soft cotton as you were certain you were tearing holes in it.

“Yeah?” He grinned down at you with sharp teeth, “You like that, pretty girl?”

“I fuck you better than Kunigami ever could, huh?” He smirked down at you, giving a harsh thrust for emphasis.

“Shut the hell up,” Kunigami growled, the sound breaking off into a whine as you circled your hand over the tip of his cock, gathering the pre beading at the slit as you used it as lubrication to drag down his length. 

“You can’t get mad at me for speaking facts, bro.” Raichi spat back cockily as he continued to roll his hips.

“If you stopped worrying about what everyone else is doing maybe you wouldn’t end up benched for every game.”

“You fuckin’ prick, I’ll kill—” Raichi snarled, leaning forward to swipe at his teammate.

“Can you stop arguing?” You groaned.

“Aww, you feeling neglected, sweetheart?” Raichi’s voice oozed with faux sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya.”

Reaching between your connected bodies with a sly grin as he pressed a calloused thumb to your puffy clit, spinning rough circles against it as he felt your walls clamp down around him in response.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cream my cock,” Raichi cooed, “You just needed someone to show you what to do, didn’t you?”

You can’t hold back, not with Raichi’s cock moulding you into the shape of him, fucking Kunigami’s cum even deeper inside you as the lewd squelch fills the room. Both men’s eyes are on you, watching your every move with intense depravity that has you feeling completely perceived, wanted, and desired. The desire building inside you becomes harder to hold onto, and the need to satiate the molten fire inside you becomes too much to bear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” You cry out, feeling Raichi’s thumb speed up against your clit, “Oh my god-”

You can’t think straight, all you can think about is the white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as Raichi continues his ruthless pace. He’s got your toes curling and your eyes rolling back as he coaxes you towards your climax, daring you to come undone for him. So he can see you melt into nothing more than a puddle beneath him as he continues his assault on your pliant body.

“Go on then, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock,” Raichi grins.

You’re mind is hazy as he presses against your clit with more fevour, demanding that you succumb to the ecstasy flowing through you and submit to him, almost choking on the spit pooling in your throat as you forget how to breathe. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before as he has you dancing on the edge of another mind-numbing release. Certain that you’ll never be able to go back to using your fingers or toys again, not when you’ve found euphoria like this.

Raichi deliberately angles every precise thrust towards your g-spot, hitting it with tenacity each time he cants his hips forward into you. Your messy essence sticks to the hairs at the base of his cock as you coat him in your release. A bright smile breaks out against his features as he stares down at you like the cat that got the cream when he feels you beginning to convulse against him.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” Both men watch as you thrash beneath him, your mind completely blank as you fall apart for them, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave as you let out a debauched moan.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Raichi continues as your walls clamp down around him in a carnal attempt to milk him of his release, and you don’t even try to stop him as you watch him give a few more chaotic thrusts into your worn cunt.

“Don’t you dare cum inside her.” Kunigami snarls.

But the words fall on deaf ears as Raichi becomes lost in his own pleasure. Chasing his own high as he buries himself inside you to the hilt, the matted hairs at the base of his cock tickling your clit as he meets his own end. His heavy balls tighten as he begins to release hot, sticky spurts of cum inside your abused hole.

“Fuck,” Kunigami grunted as he followed you both into his own bliss, his release spilling out onto your hand and his thighs as he gave a few more lazy ruts into your tight fist before turning to glare at his teammate. 

“What did I fuckin’ say, asshole. You can’t take simple instruction.” Kunigami snarled, “This is why you’re always benched.”

“It’s not my fault.” He groaned, pulling out to watch the mixture of cum leaking from your fluttering hole, “I had to fuck ‘er full of you it’s the least you could do.”

“I thought you were supposed to be experienced.” Kunigami continued, grimacing when he noticed the cum covering his palm and thighs.

“Lasted longer than you, asshole.” Raichi scoffed, “You’ve felt this sloppy pussy now so you should get it.”

Raichi’s hands shamelessly slipped down to spread your lips apart, watching the mixture of cum slowly seeping out of you in thick rivulets and onto the soft sheets beneath you.

“Besides, you liked it didn’t you, pretty girl?” He cooed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” Kunigami whispered to you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Yeah, has your room got that massive shower too?” Raichi grinned as he stood from the bed in all his naked glory, his soft cock still glistening with your slick.

“Who said you were invited?” Kunigami replied coolly.

“Aw, don’t be like that Kunigami.” Raichi smirked, “Not after I’ve just seen your girl naked.”

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Today, the IDF is beginning its internal investigation into the failure to prevent the Hamas massacre on Oct 7. The investigation will check the way the army handled all relevant aspects, covering the period of 2018 until Oct 10, 2023. The investigation is operative in nature, it's not meant to single out and punish the guilty (there will likely be a separate investigation for that later, after the war), it'll be more focused on understanding mistakes that were made, in order to prevent them from occurring again.

It's kind of ironic, how quick westerners are to accuse Israel of genociding Arabs, meanwhile Arab countries (even ones that say similar things) are still looking to collaborate with Israel. In its peace treaty with Jordan, Israel agreed to supply its eastern Arab neighbor with an annual amount of water, but has in reality implemented a deal, where it supplies Jordan with twice the amount it's obligated to. Now, Jordan is asking Israel to extend this water deal by at least another year. Jordan has been one of the more hostile Arab countries when it comes to Israel since the start of the war in Gaza (which is no surprise, since it's the Arab country with the most substantial Palestinian population). Jordan has even gone so far as to back up South Africa in its ICJ case blaming Israel of committing genocide. If Jordan really believed that Israel seeks to genocide Arabs, would this Arab kingdom really be asking the Jewish state to supply it with water? Would it allow itself to depend on Israel for its water supply? Would it be able to say, "please extend this water deal," showing it has in the past trusted Israel with its water supply, and has gotten exactly what it was asking for? Israel is asking Jordan in return to tone down its anti-Israel rhetoric.

There are reports coming out of Russia, that today, an ISIS cell was stopped before committing a terrorist attack against a local synagogue in Moscow.

In the Netherlands, anti-Israel activists have demanded the arrest of the Israeli president when he arrives in the country for a state visit. I have to point out two things. First, the president's role in Israel is mainly a ceremonial one, he has almost no executive power (the most meaningful action he can take, is in pardoning, or refusing to pardon, prisoners). Second, there are Hamas seniors living in and traveling to Europe freely. People who are leading the genocidal, antisemitic Islamist terrorist organization which committed the Oct 7 atrocities are free to come and go as they please, while Israeli officials, even ceremonial ones, have to be worried about their freedoms. This is a twisted reality we are living in.

This:

vs this:

Remember how many countries froze their UNRWA funding, after info started coming out that its employees had participated in the Hamas massacre, and how many of them have ties to Hamas and other Palestinian terrorist organizations? Turns out that this only froze about half of UNRWA's annual budget, that quietly some of these countries have begun trickling money back to UNRWA, and that Canada is about to unfreeze its funding for this UN agency. Ask Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau where is the body of Yonatan Samerano, kidnapped by an UNRWA member. Ask him where are our hostages, and how many of them are still held captive because of UNRWA's complicity. Ask him how many Canadian citizens murdered or otherwise harmed on Oct 7 or since, were targeted by an UNRWA member, or because of the pro-terrorist education UNRWA supplies. Ask him how will he say "Never again" on the next Holocaust Remembrance Day with a straight face.

This is 19 years old Naama Levi.

On Oct 7, the second vid that Twitter pushed at me, was the one in which she was seen, being dragged by her hair out of the back of a Jeep, her hands cuffed, and her sweatpants soaked with blood. Not the last pair of bloodied pants or skirt or dress I've seen from that day, but the first, and the biggest shock. Naama is still in Hamas captivity. This is her mother, speaking about this ordeal:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners, Epilogue

on Ao3

All the other chapters

Marco come pick me up I have science to do.

I hope you enjoyed the ending! I almost included some smut but it didn't feel right with the pacing of the story.

~~~

Nine More Months Later

Marco POV

Marco watched you survey the deck of the Moby Dick, trying to determine if you were suitably impressed. You were hard to read but the tiny lift in your eyebrows signaled to him your approval. His Phoenix had been driving him absolutely crazy over the past week, wanting to prepare his room and get the ship to pristine condition to ensure you liked it. He’d felt compelled to primp and preen in front of the mirror, the Phoenix wanted to look its best for the returning Ornithologist. Despite trying to keep himself even keel, Marco had snapped at his siblings all week. They taunted him relentlessly, which he deserved. But the Phoenix was riding him hard, wanting everything to be perfect for it’s mate…er, date.

You were coming on board with Etta and they were bringing you across the Grand Line to an uninhabited island. Since their time on your island, Etta had become interested in etymology, specifically related to beetles. She’d maintained a correspondence with Ace, and had let him know the two of you wouldn’t be at your island for a while. Ace told Marco, and the two of them asked Pops if they could ferry the two of you where you needed to go. Pops had agreed easily with a twinkle in his eye. You had a great reputation with the crew already and Marco knew there was a betting pool on whether you’d shoot him again, with most betting that you did. 

Marco was hoping for the best, but realistically he didn’t know if anything physical would happen between the two of you. After he’d taken you flying, you’d looked up at him with a wistful gaze and angled your face towards his own. But at the last moment you’d frowned and thrust your hand between the two of you for a handshake. He’d taken it with grace but the Phoenix was sad. He’d tried to calm the bird within him, but it had its heart set on you. The conference had further endeared you to the Phoenix, it felt that you’d found an audience to adore it.  

After the conference, Marco had given you a snail in case the World Government or Marines gave you trouble due to your paper about him. That way you’d be able to call him for help if you were targeted as an  ally to the Whitebeard Pirates. They hadn’t, but you’d called him a few times to ask follow up questions about specific facets of the Phoenix you were curious about. That had turned into periodic calls and frequent letters between the two of you. You wrote mostly about birds you’d seen and sent some drawings as well. You started including little bits of personal information as well as the months went on. His brothers always knew when he got a new letter - he was snappish and almost hostile until he read the newest piece of news you’d sent him. He saved all your letters in his office, hidden at the bottom of his desk drawer. Marco knew it was silly, but he didn’t want anyone else to see the letters or drawings you’d sent. He could probably recite them all by heart from how many times he’d read them.

So when he finally saw you aboard the ship, he’d had to stop himself from bursting into a deluge of flames. The man knew he had to keep his cool, things weren’t as easy as the Phoenix thought they were. You took stock of the ship, putting your things down for a few moments. Marco noted your blow gun was still strapped to your thigh, he didn’t blame you. Etta had run ahead to Ace, the Logia user swinging her in a circle with loud kisses. He set her down and was whispering into her ear, making her giggle. They scurried off, presumably to Ace’s cabin, as soon as politely possible. You rolled your eyes at the pair, crossing your arms over your chest. Alright, show time.

Your POV

Being on the Moby Dick was more fun than you’d like to admit. The ship was huge, you’d never been on anything remotely as big before. You walked up to Whitebeard, introduced yourself and thanked him for taking you to your research outpost. 

“My pleasure, child,” said the World’s Strongest Man. “Was it you who poisoned my son?” 

“Depends which one,” you replied, shrugging. “I only poisoned Marco, Ace poisoned himself.” You weren’t cowed by his presence or ashamed of your actions, and you saw no reason to pretend to be. 

“GURAHAHAHAHA, a woman with spirit, I can see why my son likes you. Enjoy your time aboard the ship child.”

“Thank you, sir.” You blushed and moseyed off, knowing you’d been dismissed. You took out your binoculars, sea birds were something you had interest in but rarely got to see. You were hoping to see a New World Albatross to check it off your list. You’d become somewhat of a celebrity in the birding world, if such a thing existed. Your paper on the Phoenix, which had included 10 pages of diagrams and figures, was an overnight success in the scientific community. The information had made its way to the World Government, but they weren’t very interested in your calculations of the density of Marco’s bones. You knew there were some grumblings that you had slept with Marco to get the information, but you didn’t care. Let people think what they wanted, even if it wasn’t true. You were on your way with Etta to an island that had beetles only found on the small, sandy location. Since there were unique beetles, there were also unique birds, and you were hoping for an extended study on new colonies that had developed there. 

It wasn’t an easy choice to be friends with Etta again. After the pirates had left you didn’t talk to her for almost a month. You were so upset by her betrayal, you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever speak to her again. She tried to come by a few times but you didn’t open the door to her. Eventually, you did decide to reach out, just because you wanted some closure. It was an emotional conversation between the two of you, with both of you crying by the end of it. You listened to her and understood why she did what she did, but the reasons didn’t make it hurt less. The conversation ended on okay terms, but you weren’t sure the friendship would be rekindled. 

Etta had ended up becoming very interested in beetles after meeting Ace. She spent months learning and researching and had pursued higher studies. She sought you out every so often for clarification and it had slowly brought you back together. It took a lot of work between the two of you to get to where you could spend time together. Things weren’t the same as they were before, but they were mending and you had enough respect for her scientific enthusiasm to spend time on an island together. With the time you’d be spending as scientists together, you were feeling hopeful that the two of you might be friends again.

Your research was how the two of you ended up on the Moby Dick. You’d wanted to pay for passage on a merchant vessel to your scientific venture, but Etta had asked Ace in one of her letters. Ace said they were heading the same way, it wouldn’t be out of their way to pick you up and drop you off. If you were going to be traveling with pirates, you might as well travel with the strongest of them all. You’d have no trouble with shifty merchants or other pirates along the way, that was for sure. So you’d accepted and found yourself on Whitebeard’s ship, once again with Marco The Phoenix.

“So, how has business been going yoi?” Marco asked. Even after your article had been published, you continued to write letters back and forth with Marco. At first it was purely business, sending him the article and thanking him for coming to your lecture. But it had turned into a friendship of sorts, like pen pals. Ok, it was more than friendship. As the months went on and you exchanged more letters, you became more attached to the bird. Your day brightened immensely when you got one of his letters and you read them over and over again. You’d shared personal details and drawings with Marco in your correspondence as he shared more of himself. You’d told him how you hadn’t gone back to the restaurant, instead starting your own business of drawing caricatures of tourists. You made quite a bit of money, more than you’d ever made waitressing. Your pictures were often insulting but people loved them and bought them as souvenirs. You were known for making portraits of people looking like birds - either ones they selected or ones you thought they looked like.

“Really well, actually. I was finally able to buy a better dehydrator, which I’ve been wanting for a long time.” You still loved pineapple and had dehydrated crates worth for your trip into the wilderness. You hoped Marco didn’t dig into it before you got to your destination.

“Good, good.” Marco seemed to be having some hesitation, like he was holding himself back. You didn’t remember Marco being awkward, he had always been smooth before. Well, whatever. There were literally a thousand other people on board to entertain yourself with, even if they were pirates. Maybe you’d find that really good looking guy from the first time you’d met.

“Where can I drop my stuff?” you said, tapping your pack with your toe.

“Oh, you can put it in my room for now,” Marco replied, picking it up for you. 

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” You weren’t exactly sure what you and Marco would be up to tonight, but you didn’t want to assume anything. A tiny part of you hoped something did, but you also liked giving Marco shit. You’d be on the ship for a few weeks, the island wasn’t close to where you were located. There would be plenty of time for things to develop between you and Marco, if they did at all.

“How rude! Dart him again!” cheered a man you recognized from the restaurant. He still had that pompadour, that was his normal look? You rolled your eyes.

“Eh, not right now. But if you want to see someone poisoned, you can try it out,” you replied. He paled and you laughed. Marco led you to the stairs, taking you down to put your things in his room. You peeked in while he set them down on an overstuffed chair. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was neat and orderly, with a few mementos from his travels. His desk was a little less organized, with papers scattered all over the surface. And in the back corner, a framed picture you remembered vividly. Busting in, you grabbed it off his desk.

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you said, looking over the drawing. It was the sketch you’d made of him as a bird - before you’d known he was the Phoenix. The figure you’d drawn was much smaller and cuter than his actual bird form, but you stood by it still. Marco plucked it from you, almost like he was embarrassed. 

“I like it yoi,” was all he said, putting it back on his desk. He adjusted it so it sat just so on his desk, like things had to be in a certain order. “Let’s go back on deck, I’m sure the party will be getting started soon.”

“Party?”

~

And indeed, there was a party in your honor. Well, you couldn’t be sure it was in your honor, it seemed like these pirates needed little reason to party. Still, it was the largest party you’d ever been invited to. You hung around Marco, and later Etta and Ace once they resurfaced from whatever they were doing. You were chit chatting with the crew members, surprising yourself for being so casual with pirates. They had been asking you about your business venture outside of your scientific curiosities.

“But why insulting drawings?” asked the World’s Prettiest Man Izou, still dressed in Wano inspired clothing. Now why couldn’t he have been the Phoenix? You would have forgiven him much sooner. 

“People pay more for insulting caricatures,” you said, shrugging. “People seem to like it when I rip on them, I don’t know why.” You’d brought sketching supplies naturally, but didn’t want to waste them on stupid drawings of pirates. “I can draw some for you guys if you have pencils.” 

~

“GURAHAHAHAHA, an excellent likeness!” You’d given the Captain a drawing of himself with a crescent beard that echoed the way his mustache looked. He was White beard, but you didn’t want to draw anything too insulting. It would be no fun if you were stomped to death before you’d even made it to your destination. You’d been drawing the pirates all evening, to their intense amusement. You’d drawn Haruta as a Tontatta, Namur as a mermaid, Kingdew as a bumblebee, and Fossa smiling, among others. They loved seeing the finished product and multiple beers had been ejected through noses after you’d shown the final results. 

“Draw more! Just one more!” cheered Thatch. He’d been especially taken with the drawings after you’d drawn one of him as a loaf of bread. 

“No, no. I’m done for now with you lot,” you said, handing the clipboard back to Thatch. The crowd booed you.

“Enough yoi. She said she’s done,” Marco said, in a tone that held no room for arguing. He was radiating little wisps of fire, like he was ready to defend your honor. The crowd was still booing but was dispersing. Marco had been hanging out near you all night, almost like he was nervous to leave you alone. He was good company though, and you enjoyed talking with him in person rather than over the mail. “Would you like me to show you to the guest room?” Marco asked. You were tired of being at the party, but not that tired. You didn’t like playing games, you just did what you thought felt right. Besides, you weren’t stupid, you knew the Moby Dick hadn’t been going in the direction of a random unnamed scientific outpost. 

You hummed in response. “I’m not tired just yet, I’d rather complete some research. There’s one component I’m still missing,” you said cryptically. 

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What component yoi?”

“The effects of endorphin release upon the Phoenix,” you deadpanned. You thought you heard the start of a bird song but Marco cleared his throat instead. He leaned against the railing of the deck on one forearm, bringing his face closer to yours.

Marco laughed lightly. “Oh? And will your findings be published?” Marco asked, leaning over and caging you against the railing with his body.

“No, this is more for personal education,” you replied with a smirk, tilting your head towards his.

“Well, we must satisfy your curiosity yoi. What kind of endorphin release did you have in mind? Meditation? Exercise? Eating spicy food?” 

“Something like that,” you replied. You grabbed the front of his open shirt and pulled his face to yours, kissing him deeply. Marco kissed you back, leaning you back against the railing of the deck. You distantly heard cheers from the crew, but couldn’t be bothered to care. Besides, you didn’t have enough darts to shoot them all. 

Marco POV

If the skinny dipping didn’t do it, and the poison didn’t do it, this would certainly be Marco’s end. Marco the man was fine with kissing on the deck in front of the crew, they all did it from time to time. The Phoenix, however, was ready for heads to roll. It didn’t want any potential rivals seeing your romance, it wanted your mate DATE safely within Marco’s room before anything happened. Marco had already been riding a thin line all night. He knew he had no business telling you what to do and who to interact with, but there was no calming the Phoenix. It wanted you all to itself, away from all his siblings. The whole night his hand was itching to throw you over his shoulder and take you below deck. He’d nearly done it when Thatch had made you laugh at some stupid joke, but had held himself back at the last moment. Now he wasn’t sure he could. The whoops coming from the deck had his eye twitching. 

“Would you like to continue this experiment elsewhere?” Marco whispered into your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his stubble on your cheek.

“In your nest?” you whispered back mischievously. Marco nipped your ear as a reply. This time, he did throw you over his shoulder, causing you to laugh. He stalked off towards the stairs, causing even more whooping from his brothers. Marco knew they’d tease him at a later time, but he wasn’t thinking about that. At that moment, all he cared about was hearing your laughter, feeling you in his arms, and knowing that he’d have a few weeks to spend with you on the Moby. And he could always come visit you at your outpost, one of the benefits of having wings. Phoenix and man were united, excited for the future with their favorite birdwatcher. 

[lizbethborden]

Whether you like her music and persona or not, Chappell Roan is extremely interesting as an example of an artist speed-running the famous female experience in a matter of months. After her Gov Ball performance, she exploded in exposure and popularity, with massive crowds on the festival circuit. Her exposure came with a price--her safety and privacy--and when she publicly asked her fans to stop cannibalizing her well-being--to stop doxxing her family, calling her by her real name, and kissing and touching her forcibly--she became hated by large groups of pop fans virtually overnight. Her conduct in public since has only intensified this, as her response to red carpet hostility and her apparent exhaustion and frustration around award shows and publicity have made her appear "ungrateful."

What this reminds me of is Andrea Dworkin's analysis of Marilyn Monroe in her book, Right Wing Women. She is talking about Hollywood's most famous actress, but much of this also applies to Roan, who, like Monroe, performs period-typical ornate femininity and expresses orientation toward male aesthetics and desires (Roan specifically via her much-expressed worship of male drag artists). Here is Dworkin on Monroe:

“The actress is the only female culturally empowered to act. When she acts well, that is, when she convinces the male controllers of images and wealth that she is reducible to current sexual fashion, available to the male on his own terms, she is paid and honored. Her acting must be imitative, not creative; rigidly conforming, not self-generated and self-renewing. The actress is the puppet of flesh, blood, and paint who acts as if she is the female acting.”

Roan is not a subversive artist. Even her explicit desire for other women comes in a "queer" context; modern "queerness" is largely a joint invention of capitalism, antifeminism, and homophobia, which is why it has mass appeal to Gen Z. Many of her costumes and looks are overtly done in drag style and in tribute to famous male drag performers. She has talked about her Chappell Roan persona as her "drag" persona and relating heavily to the experiences of drag queens. (I have never, whether in person at her concert or in interviews, heard her express knowledge of the existence of female drag artists, drag kings.) All of this in combination with her feminine aesthetic--femininity being a social signal of acquiescence to male interests and desire--means that she is, as was Dworkin's Monroe, "reducible to current sexual fashion." Her aesthetic is performed in hero worship of male creators: "imitative, not creative; rigidly conforming, not self-generated and self-renewing."

Dworkin goes on to discuss the effect of Monroe's suicide on the public (male) consciousness:

“Monroe’s premature death raised one haunting question for the men who were, in their own fantasy, her lovers, for the men who had masturbated over those pictures of exquisite female compliance: was it possible, could it be, that she hadn’t liked It all along—It—the It they had been doing to her, how many millions of times? Had those smiles been masks covering despair or rage? If so, how endangered they had been to be deceived, so fragile and exposed in their masturbatory delight, as if she could leap out from those photos of what was now a corpse and take the revenge they knew she deserved.”

Monroe committed the ultimate act of self-declaration, and in our culture, the ultimate sin specifically for a woman like her. By committing suicide, she not only forever severed male access to her person; she also threatened the tenuous male fantasy that she had ever enjoyed male access to her body, her image, her mind, her creative expresssion. Her suicide, though a private act performed out of her own personal anguish, was nonetheless an indictment of the public that had fed itself not only on her creative output, on her beauty and sexuality, but also the contempt bred by such familiarity with her image. No matter what, whether you loved her or hated her, wanted to fuck her or didn't, you could bite off a piece of Marilyn Monroe and chew, and the public consumed her until there was nothing left.

Chappell Roan has made public what Monroe kept private: that the cannibalism of fame is agonizing; that no, she does not like "It—the It they had been doing to her, how many millions of times." Rather than fulfill the female prerogative of suffering in silence, or through hateable, explosive acts like those performed by Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan in their heydays, she has explicitly, verbally expressed that she is hurt, tired, angry, frustrated, annoyed; that she does not enjoy the myriad of intrusions conducted on her person and her life by her fans, by her haters, and by the public and press. In turn, the public has revolted against her: she has violated the ultimate female rule, which is, in very brief, "smile and take it." She has declared at the very outset of her public career that she has a self and interiority that does not belong to anyone else, and she is now despised.

[neeweekeewee]

HEALER FATESPEAKER AU

An alternate universe where Fatespeaker becomes a healer and a therapist at Jade Mountain Academy. Due to her having weak mind reading abilities, she is considered to be an empath. When she arrived at the Night Kingdom, she was overwhelmed with sadness over seeing the condition of her tribemates, feeling helpless that she couldn’t do anything to help alleviate them of their injuries, diseases, and emotional misery. After Flame gets injured by Viper’s venomous tail barb, she becomes extremely distraught and full of grief over his life threatening injury. She would check on him periodically when she wasn’t helping Starflight. She became interested in healing when she was watching the healers do their work. While in the rainforest, she was was overwhelmed with fear, grief, and helplessness over Starflight’s injuries. She promised herself that she would anything she could to save those around her, so that she never feels helpless again. Since a whole other tribe is now living in the rainforest, the RainWing healers needed extra help. She was brought on as an apprentice to help out the healers with the sudden influx of patients. Due to her weak mind reading ability, she can sense emotions of the patients around her. She is a natural at healing due to her sheer passion and interest to learn and her bubbly and extroverted personality. She feels as though she has found her calling. She was proud to forge her own path and not be just a “back up Dragonet of Destiny”. There were already Dragonets of Destiny. And they were good enough. She was glad to be helping dragons and saving lives in a different way.

Flame is the first to wake up from his injury, he is still very weak from the potency of the venom. Fatespeaker comes to care for him. He is hostile and skeptical at first, refusing to let her touch him and told her to get away from him. Due to how busy the healer hut was, no one was available to help dress his wounds. He watched Fatespeaker care for other patients. He sees how sweet, bubbly, and energetic she is with them. It’s almost as if she’s able to sense their pain and negative emotions without them even saying anything or showing it. She was running in every direction, attending to every patient as quickly as she could, which was much quicker than all of the other healers. Flame’s wound was becoming more and more painful until he was writhing in his bed in agony. Fatespeaker immediately responds, not able to handle feeling his misery anymore. He continues to act extremely rude to her which finally makes her snap at him, saying: “I have never once said anything nasty or bad about you. I have always treated you kindly even when you were rude or when you would call me names. For moon’s sake can you just be kind to me for one day?” “I can tell you’re in a lot of pain, there is no other healer available right now so you’re stuck with me. Even though you are a really rude dragon, I cannot stand to see you suffer like this, just clamp your jaws shut and let me do my job.”

Surprised by her firmness in her tone and the tears in her eyes, he listens to her. He started feeling guilty for treating her with disrespect for so long, realizing that she was never once rude to him or even muttered a negative comment about him.

After coming to this realization, he started being more kind to her; allowing her to dress his wound and check up on him. The healer hut was often boring, he started to miss his mother quite a ton. When Fatespeaker would sense his deep loneliness, she would often stop by to keep him company. Even when she was super busy, if she sensed that Flame was upset in any way, she would come to help cheer him up. This helped build a close bond between them both. They started making inside jokes, and having long conversations when Fatespeaker had a break. Flame started missing her badly when she wasn’t around, especially at night. He would even get jealous when other patients got more attention than he did, especially when it came to Starflight, who was still unconscious at the time. Fatespeaker wasn’t oblivious to this, since she could sense his jealousy. She felt giddy inside for some reason that someone wanted her attention so badly. No dragon has ever had feelings for her before. It also warmed her heart that she finally built a bond with one of the members of her group and that her care had been helping heal their wound.

The moment Flame knew he loved Fatespeaker was when his mother came to visit him during his stay at the healer’s hut. She thanked Fatespeaker relentlessly for nursing him back to health. The two hit it off very well, talking for hours it seemed.

The moment Fatespeaker knew she loved Flame was when he became interested in her field of work after she nursed him back to health. He became her assistant healer. He also tried his best to work on his temper because he knows she doesn’t like it.

When Starflight woke up, he was bewildered to find out that Flame was working beside Fatespeaker to help heal him.

After the end of the war, Flame and Fatespeaker were the healers and therapists for the students. Occasionally, they travel to other tribes to help out. Flame is also a part time student to learn better skills on tolerance of other tribes.

[leafteaposts]

I need to get some Aus out of my head in hopes I can continue working on my actual fics om writing.

So have the one that distracts me the most at the moment,

Lighthouse!AU

The storyline follows canon but there is no Baratie. No restaurant floating at the sea.

In this au Zeff's trauma of losing his crew, being stuck on a rock with a little feral eggplant and eating his own fucking leg takes a toll. When they are saved he wants to leave all behind but the kid has fixated on him and is, after all the only one that actually understands the horror of almost starving to death and surviving the storm that took all he had left. He can't handle the tempo, the sounds, the teeming life around him anymore, as he has ghosts at every corner and a equally traumatized kid looking at him like he is a saviour, like he is worth something.

They are more co-dependent in this au and when the Marines hear that red leg Zeff might be the man saved with a kid from a rock in the middle of nowhere he flees in the night. Taking Sanji with him.

From there they steal a boat and sets out to sea. They drift for a long time, moving in the night and laying low in the days, Sanji has to steal food and help a still weak Zeff that are equal parts caring and hostile as he still has a nasty infection raging inside due to his self amputated leg.

At the edge of the east blue they find a small island surrounded with jagged cliffs and a wind that never quiets. There stands a lighthouse and they make it their home. They do have a small space that serves as a restaurant /sleeping area/ infirmary when shipwrecked sailors finds them or drift ashore. Mostly smugglers, pirates and other shady people, often in bad conditions and Zeff and Sanji feed them with what they have and steal what they deem reasonable.

Zeff have huge survivors guilt (as does Sanji) Zeff want more for Sanji, for him to leave, to find the all blue, but just can't push him to leave, instead they grow ever more dependent on each other, Sanji's own guilt and issues make him much more quiet, not as aggressive as he doesn't grow up in a rowdy restaurant in his adolescence years. Still anger issues but take the form more introverted.

They have a patch of land they grow vegetables on and have some sheep and goats for wool and milk/meat. (Living quietly on the island when they arrived, no people, the lighthouse seems to be a forgotten blind spot in the sea for most. Having been abandoned for a long time.) Due to their living conditions Sanj is foremost educated in foods that can last long times and harsh weathers, but they still make the best food you ever eaten. This is maybe also why, Sanji muses, why he gets a warm feeling when Zoro (and Luffy) never show any signs of disgust over eating frogs, rats etc. At Skypeia much later, he feels all fuzzy when they all devour the rat stew and he can't stop locking at the swordsman.

Patty and Carne find them as smugglers in need and they keep supplying them and are their only steady visitors. Until a boy with a straw hat crashes the peace and brings change with him.

Nami still steals the Merry but it takes much longer time. They stay longer, and the drama with Don Crieg is still happening, just as Mihawks arrives, etc. They get to know Zeff, Sanji and their small world. After a long time at the lighthouse Nami leave with the Merry and Zeff dares to slowly let Sanji free, pushing him towards his destiny.

This Sanji have longer hair as he can't be as fancy/prissy on the island, have to groom himself/of have Zeff help him. Takes on the role as the care taker a lot as Zeff has serious bouts of depression in periods. Dissociates a lot and compartments his life a lot to handle the loneliness and his own traumas. Wakes up sometimes with Zeffs hands in his hair and the old man humming sea shantys to bring the light back into Sanji's eyes. He dress smart but clear they are poor and lives of the sea and land. He is good at sewing and mending. After Arlong park Nami makes sure Sanji gets a proper suit, heck she makes sure he gets one in each big port. Slowly he can develop his style and image he has inside and we see more of canon Sanju shine through. He is still a lover boy, still heart in his eyes but much more shy. Clashes with Zoro at the regular, bonds with Usopp the most at the start. Usopp and Nami also teach him about the outside world more, giving him books to read and Zoro often asks him to read out loud so he can practice. Sanji takes it as criticism but Zoro loves listening to his voice and also learns himself. Zoro surprises himself with discovering he is secretly a history buff. Zoro also helps Sanji with math as suddenly working with such large quantities and berries is a little daunting in the beginning. This is also one of the reasons they often shop together when restocking the food etc.

A slow, quiet love grows in those moments, often making them feel confused about their feelings as the fights and butting heads doesn't stop. They have different goals and ideologies just as in canon but complement each other and Luffy perfectly.

Phew. Maybe it will now leave me alone?

[sevensoulmates]

Buddie 7x04 Meta Part 2 (of 4)

Click here for Part 1, Part 3, and Part 4.

Where I left off in Part 1 is that Buck is known for being overly nosey about Eddie's romantic prospects. He does this for Ana a bunch and Marisol too to an extent. But this is the first time that Buck is doing so for a MALE romantic prospect for Eddie.

Even though Buck isn't aware that he's viewing what Eddie and Tommy have to be romantic, the fact that it's written and directed almost EXACTLY how Buck's been about Eddie's other girlfriends speaks volumes. The only added layer here is that instead of being "enthused" for Eddie, he's hostile and upset about it. The new layer here is that Tommy is a man. This once again goes back to Buck viewing only women as romantic prospects for both of them, and placing himself firmly in the best friend category because that's the only place he believes he CAN be (at the moment).

This also marks the first of several callbacks to Eddie's streetfighting arc in season 3 (specifically the famous 3x09 "I could take you" kitchen scene) which was inherently intertwined with what Buck views as one of the biggest mistakes of his life: suing the department, breaking Eddie's trust, and being forced to be away from Eddie and Christopher for an extended period of time.

Last time he and Eddie talked about "throwing punches" Buck said "you ever stop to think that maybe you were throwing punches at the wrong guy?" which is fucking HILARIOUS to me because it has SEVERAL huge connections to this episode. 1.) Eddie dating "the wrong guy" aka Tommy instead of Buck, 2.) Punching/fighting/physical violence as a metaphor for "socially acceptable" M/M intimate touch and 3.) BUCK misassigns his romantic feelings to Tommy aka "the wrong guy" at the end instead of realizing that Eddie is the core of his desire in this episode.

Where's my "Tommy is Eddie in a different font" counter? It is now textual that the writers WANT us to take SPECIFIC notice that Buck views Tommy to be extremely similar to Eddie. And the main thing other than the army that he points out that they have in common is "they both like watching half-naked men pummel each other". This is just pointedly saying Buck thinks both of them are into/attracted to men. Like, is there any other way for this to be interpreted? (It could also be seen as mild internalized homophobia.) Maybe Buck doesn't realize that's what he's saying, but that's what he's saying. Which is once again assigning queerness specifically to Eddie (like in 7x01) even though Buck is the only one of the two who textually experiences MM queerness in this episode.

This line also draws attention to the fact that Buck is jealous because Eddie and Tommy are together in a homoerotic atmosphere. He may even be (unconsciously) thinking about Eddie and Tommy half-naked pummeling each other and no he doesn't find it hot. And this is proven by Eddie confirming that he and Tommy have pummeled each other in Muy Thai. Buck could be thinking of this as him being uncomfortable because he wants to be homoerotic with Tommy, but no, once again the focus of this scene is Eddie. Eddie continues to be the object of his desire.

((Running tab on Tommy's similarities to Eddie: badass, competent, helicopters, army, Eddie-coined phrase, both like watching fights AND fighting together, both like cars, both are attracted to men ))

This line is yet another callback to the famous kitchen scene in 3x09. Buck homoerotically said "he could still take Eddie [in a fight]" and "you wanna go for the title?" implying they'd wrestle. In this instance in 7x04, just like it was in 3x09 wrestling is a (common queer) allegory for gay sex. The kitchen scene in 3x09 was buddie's most sexually charged moment to date. So Tommy being the one here to "go toe-to-toe" with Eddie and "take him" in a fight? Oh buddy boy Buck is PISSED.

This is so funny because Buck clearly doesn't believe his own words here. But it's true in the past. Buck doesn't mind when Eddie makes friends. He was cool with Eddie making friends at the dispatch center, and he was also cool with Eddie going to play basketball with friends excluding him for a LONG TIME prior to now. He was also chill with Eddie being friends with Felisa, and even Marisol. Something has changed now, and I believe that Buck's belief of only being able to be close to Eddie as his "special friend" is changing. He's subconsciously realizing that he could be closer to Eddie than just a friend. But someone else is coming in and swooping Eddie up right out from under him. This entire episode is Buck (unconsciously) panicking over possibly missing his chance of being romantic with Eddie. That's the layer he doesn't realize. Buck DOESN'T usually mind Eddie making new friends, and he even says it again at the end of the episode that he knows Eddie's allowed to have other friends, but he does mind when said "friends" could ruin Buck's chances of being with Eddie before he even realizes he HAS a chance.

This is the first of many callbacks to 2x01 in this episode (but not the first this season, 7x01 was absolutely riddled with callbacks to 2x01). Eddie is thinking about how it feels to "click" with someone and canonically this has only happened to Eddie before with two people: Shannon and Buck. This is also a callback to 6x17 Love Is In The Air where Eddie says he wants "chemistry" and "magic" with someone. And clearly, Buck sees that Eddie has chemistry and magic with Tommy--far more than he has with Marisol. But the most recent time Eddie has clicked so strongly with someone was with Buck, and that's obviously what Buck's thinking about here. Because Buck also remembers what it was like to click with Eddie.

Who else is Buck supposed to be thinking about in this scene? Abby? Natalia? Ali? No, no, and no. He's thinking about Eddie and how they clicked (not immediately) but very soon after meeting in 2x01. And they developed an extremely close bond that's been growing deeper and deeper with each year that passes. And Buck thinks he may lose that special bond with Eddie because now Eddie's developing something (possibly BETTER) with Tommy.

Once again Buck using the same phrasing here as he does with Eddie's previous female love interests. This is how he's asked after Ana in the past. And when Eddie mentions trivia and karaoke, these two things made me think of Madney, another famous pair in the show who DID NOT REALIZE (or want to admit) THEY WERE DATING until someone else pointed it out to them. Sound familiar?

Again, I want us all to give Eddie some grace here. In the past, Buck has been more than happy to watch Chris while Eddie goes out on dates. There's even a famous date where Eddie goes out with Ana and Buck watches Christopher for him "you're a miracle worker". But this time, Buck is unhappy about it. Why? Because he wants to be involved in whatever Eddie's got going on with Tommy, because previously those kinds of things were reserved for Buck (or Buck + Chris together). BUT how is Eddie supposed to know that Buck would feel hurt by it this time? He's never been mad in the past when he asked Buck to watch Chris?

I giggled. Eddie's regulated Marisol to a glorified babysitter. He'd rather go out and date Tommy than spend any time with Marisol and it's so funny. And of course, the implication that Eddie's already had been out two times with Tommy in the little time they've become friends, enough to ask Marisol multiple times to watch Chris while Eddie goes out, something that used to be Buck's job. But to Buck, it's never felt like "babysitting" it feels like spending time with his son.

This scene does something else that makes it indisputable that this episode is not about Buck wanting Tommy. The Christopher layer. Christopher is an extension of Eddie, but at the same time, he's also a little boy that Buck loves separately from Eddie. Buck views him as a son, and he reacts to Christopher finding Tommy cool the same way a parent would react when their kid finds someone else cooler than them. This is in fact the same reaction Michael had to Harry finding Bobby cool in 2x14 Broken. Because now Tommy's not just threatening Buck's place with Eddie, but Buck's place with Christopher too. If the object of Buck's jealousy was Tommy in this instance, why would Buck be threatened by Christopher? It doesn't make any sense.

Buck's aware that Christopher is not the one bringing Tommy in, Eddie is. And he's afraid that if Christopher likes Tommy more than him, Chris will want Tommy as another parent, not Buck. All of this stuff with Christopher has absolutely no romantic underlining, it's all parental. Therefore there's no way this scene can be read as Buck jealous because he wants Tommy for himself.

Additionally, Buck being a parent to Christopher alongside Eddie is one of the few big things that sets Buck apart from just being a "regular" friend to Eddie. Co-parenting with Eddie is one of the most intimate things they do together in their relationship. Losing Christopher as a son means losing Eddie as a co-parent, and again the object of desire here is Eddie.

Another point to this is that Buck gets actively angry at Tommy in this scene. He thinks that Tommy is lying to Christopher's face in order to gain favor with Chris, which gains favor with Eddie. He's basically accusing Tommy of being inauthentic and using phony means to get in with Chris and Eddie. And the kicker is that it's over such a trivial thing too! I swear to you Buck does not really care about which Star Wars movie is superior. He's trying to find something, anything, to indicate that Tommy isn't who he seems to be, that Tommy is using Chris to get to Eddie, that Tommy isn't a good person and therefore should not be the one that Eddie (and Chris) wants. Why on earth would Buck be searching for any little excuse to make Tommy look like a not-great person if Buck really secretly wants Tommy for himself? He wants Eddie and Chris to see that Buck is the "superior" option, and to choose him over Tommy. He doesn't want them to see that Tommy's a sucky person so then they'll dump him and let Buck have him. That doesn't. Make. Sense.

And these lines prove that yes, it was not Christopher going on and on about Tommy but Buck questioning him and Chris just answering truthfully. This is also unprecedented because (as far as we know) Buck's never questioned Christopher about any of Eddie's other friends or girlfriends.

Not to mention this scene parallels Maddie's "does this mean this boycrush on Eddie means you're finally getting over Abby?" It's another instance of Maddie being the voice of truth during one of Buck's many info-dumps about Eddie and Chris over the years. But it's also interesting because this shows Maddie hitting the nail on the head when it comes to this aspect of Buck's problem, and she'll have one more scene with him later in this episode where I actually think she misunderstands the underlying truth, but Buck takes it as fact cuz that's his big sis and she's always right. I'll get to that later.

This line proves that this is not something that Eddie's been doing alone and never wanted Buck to be a part of. It's not like Eddie specifically invited Tommy because he wants to do this specific thing with Tommy. Eddie has invited Buck on MORE THAN ONE OCCASION to play basketball with him, and Buck says no because he's not interested in basketball. Which is a totally fine thing to do if a hobby is not your thing. But it implies that Eddie has wanted to and has actively tried to share this thing with Buck in the past, but Buck has just never taken him up on it. But now that Tommy's involved, Buck's suddenly interested? We also get to see a short moment of Chimney expressing interest in Tommy and thinking he's "so cool" as well, but does Buck really react or care at all that Chimney thinks Tommy's cool? No. Not at all.

And before I get into the next set of scenes, here is where I want to draw attention to something Tim Minear said in an interview about wanting Buck to meet and get integrated with Tommy but through someone in the 118. He didn't just want it to be something where Buck is isolated with Tommy like he's been with nearly all his past girlfriends. But here's the kicker and why I will call Tim on his bullshit. He had THREE OTHER ESTABLISHED CHARACTERS who all know Tommy WAY better than Eddie. Eddie is actually the character that makes THE LEAST SENSE to be Buck's introduction to Tommy as a person. If the writers wanted this episode to be PURELY focused on how Buck is into Tommy but doesn't realize this, they could've had Chimney be the middleman. Chimney could've invited Buck to hang out with him and Tommy, Buck could've gone to basketball to impress Tommy, could've tried to show off with basketball, could've tried to impress Chim on a call to get him to tell Tommy how cool Buck is. But nope.

Or Hen could've been the person to bring Tommy in. We could've seen scenes of Hen and Tommy, showing a bit more of Tommy as an individual, making amends with her. She's also the only openly queer member of the 118 at the moment. She also could've been a POV character to point out Buck's queer attraction to Tommy. They could've openly discussed Tommy's queerness in a much more straightforward way, maybe even have Hen empathize with Tommy (possibly) being closeted when they worked together. If anything, making Tommy make amends and show himself to have grown as a person would've endeared him to the audience of long-term viewers (many of whom don't like Tommy due to his past actions) FAR MORE than what actually happened in the episode. It could've been a great way to integrate Tommy into the core firefam. But nope. That's not the story the writers want to tell.

With Bobby, he makes the least amount of sense of the three, but he still knows Tommy better than Eddie. You could've gotten the same "Buck thinks he's jealous but it's not because he thinks he's losing a friend but because he's into Tommy" story if you used Chim or Hen, but Buck is not in love with either of them. So why is Eddie the one bringing Tommy into the fold if not to provide a clear direction for where Buck's queerness will lead him down the road?

Alright, I'm gonna stop here for part 2 cuz tumblr is once again saying I have too many pictures. Got to part 3 for more.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

[suchine-toki]

(The last one I swear) Top 10 Gintaka moments

Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.

1. Boke and tsukkomi

We get another glimpse into their relationship during the Shouka Sonjuku days through a memory of Zura. Gintoki appears annoyed about only fighting against Takasugi, though the latter reveals he is ahead 57-56, which means that in a short period they had already fought more than 100 times. This implies that, as the years went by, their duels became a little less frequent. But what is really interesting and adorable here is the way Takasugi acts as Gintoki's tsukkomi and playfully scolds him (ch. 563).

2. Kick the can

At Kurokono Tasuke's suggestion, they decide to play basketball kick the can. Although it is later revealed that Gintoki and Takasugi intended to counterattack the enemy the whole time, they were clearly engrossed in the game, as evidenced by the fact that they put small bushes on their heads to camouflage. This seems to be a tactic they learned from their teacher, considering Zura did it as well. Despite everything, he notices that Gintoki and Takasugi seem more enthusiastic about competing against each other to see who is the first to launch a surprise attack on the can rather than the actual war (ch. 453).

3. Naivety and embarrassment

Around a campfire, Gintoki discusses the course of the war with Sakamoto and Zura and whether they would eventually become imperial forces if their side won. Aside from this being the only occasion where Gintoki thought about a future for himself beyond rescuing Shouyo, Takasugi mocks the idea as naive. This scene appears to be after the one where they made their promise, because Takasugi is aware that Gintoki doesn't fight for the country or for fame, but for their teacher. Thus, with great confidence, he asserts that they know what they are doing and that is enough. However, the way he says it irritates Gintoki, who then proceeds to tease him about the name of the Kiheitai, followed by some insinuations that Sakamoto quickly picks up on and joins in (ch. 633).

4. Him or me

After the events with the Ikeda family, it is revealed that Takasugi and Nobu Nobu are behind the scenes. The latter notices Takasugi's hostility towards him, so he reassures him that he never intended to go after what he calls his prey, Gintoki. Upon hearing this, Takasugi quickly changes his demeanor to a more relaxed and confident one, asserting that he would not be able to take any of their heads. Before leaving, he threatens him that if he changes his mind, either Gintoki or he himself will finish him off. This is not only another occasion where Takasugi becomes upset when others talk about Gintoki in front of him, but it also shows how, even at this point and before their confrontation, he still felt some camaraderie and understanding towards Gintoki (ch. 468).

5. Lingering feelings

Gintoki didn't only become emotional in his final fight against Takasugi when he had to attack his possessed body. In their first real confrontation, there is a direct parallel between Gintoki's face before being forced to kill Shouyo and his face before cutting Takasugi. They had already been fighting for a while, but this shows that at this moment Gintoki was already on the verge of tears. He didn't want to do it, but if someone was going to stop Takasugi, it had to be him. Arguably, this is the first time it is shown how much Gintoki still loves and cares for Takasugi even after all this time and everything that has happened (ch. 519).

6. Only me

Takasugi asks Shinpachi not to let anyone else take Gintoki's head because only he can do it, which adds to other occasions where one speaks possessively about the other. But this time it is because there are still unresolved matters between them, so Takasugi asks, in his own way, that he survives, just as Gintoki asked him 10 years ago when they made their promise during the war (ch. 575).

7. Believe in him

When Hijikata interrogates Gintoki, he fills in the gaps regarding what happened with the Tendoushuu and how all the information points to Takasugi conspiring with the enemy. Despite this, Gintoki tries to defend him, highlighting the fact that Takasugi helped them two years ago and has no reason to ally with the Tendoushuu, to which Hijikata insists that Takasugi is the type to prioritize goals over the means to achieve them. Still, Gintoki refuses to speak and betray Takasugi in any way, prompting Hijikata to question his loyalty and if the reason he insists on protecting Takasugi is because he still believes in him while being interrupted by Robozaki (ch. 674).

8. Underwater fight

When Gintoki is at his limit, surrounded by a group of assassins, a boat with explosives arrives to save him, which is revealed to have been sent by Takasugi. Gintoki doesn't miss the opportunity to tease him, calling him "mastermind" or "Hikusugi-kun," a wordplay referring to his height, and teases him about his lingering affection for the Kiheitai, the latter provoking an offensive response from him. They bicker some more before they are attacked and thrown into the water, where they fight against their enemies while also fighting each other (ch. 677).

9. Shitty brat & crazy hoodlum

This is one of the most peaceful scenes that occurs between them since they reunited. Here they are not fighting each other or anyone else, but simply talking while walking, another glimpse of how their relationship used to be. They clearly look comfortable next to each other, smiling and joking, showing how happy they are to be together, although neither of them would admit it (ch. 683).

10. Go back

On multiple occasions during the final arc, Takasugi tried to convince Gintoki, both gently and harshly, to return to the Yorozuya and his loved ones in Edo. This shows how selfless his love for Gintoki was, that even if his heart was divided because he wanted to be by his side, at the same time what Takasugi most desired was for Gintoki to be happy, with the tragedy that he wasn't really aware that he was part of Gintoki's happiness (chs. 673/677/683/690/699/703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4)

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case— The “Seven Inches of Satanic Panic” Edition

An Eddie Munson x OC Fanfic

The good lord (me) intended this to be an OC x Eddie fanfic, and by god, that’s what y’all are getting from here on. The original reader insert series will be discontinued for now, unless I really get the urge to go back and revisit it.

For now, just enjoy what I originally wanted. Which was over 3,000 words of self indulgent OC fanfic to help me get past these dark times. Life is too short to worry about being cringy.

Warnings: period typical racism, swearing, mentions of suicide, mentions of abuse (more tags to be added as the story progresses).

Divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

Pairings: Eddie Munson x OC

Word Count: 4,088 words

Chapter One - Don’t Talk to Strangers

“I'm danger, I'm the stranger.

And I, I'm darkness, I'm anger, I'm pain…”

Hawkins, Indiana was going to be hell on earth. Of that, Alejandra Perea was certain.

She didn’t want to move here in the first place. This whole situation was horseshit. Spur of the moment pendejadas from the family matriarch in command of a newly formed triad where there had once been a quartet. Leaving everything behind, even if it meant new and exciting things on the horizon, it wasn’t necessary. The family did not need a fresh start over in a new state.

No, what everyone needed to do was to start looking harder. She could still remember the advice given to her nearly a year ago, as it was the only solid and reliable advice she had received at the time. Expand the search area, but make sure at least one person stays at the home base. Keep the name in the media as much as possible, even if it meant taking out another loan to buy airtime on the radio stations locally. Question everything. Look for abnormalities, and above all: report, report, report!

Doing something was better than doing nothing, and if Alejandra’s family was any kind of concerned, they would be more aware of the rampant corruption and blatant conspiracy afoot throughout this whole situation. She could see the truth laid out in front of her, especially when there was a way to physically connect the dots. Soon she’d need another Big Chief Tablet to jot down her notes, and since the one sad little general store in town didn’t even have what she needed, the lack of consistency and the unfamiliar stationery was already making her panic.

So instead of playing pretend— telling herself that she would bide her time until she could find a way back home— Alejandra decided she was going to do what she did best when she wasn’t listened to: shut out the entire world, and focus her attention inward as her plan formulated.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer…

“Sit up right, huevona! You’re going to mark my seats.”

Reluctantly, Alejandra slid her feet off the tan leather bucket seat, hoping that the battered treads of her Chucks left marks. Instead of facing her mother’s lecture, Alejandra spent the morning commute looking out the window with a scowl. She wanted to be anywhere but here. This podunk midwestern vibe was horrible. Unfamiliar. A hostile environment of mostly blue collar workers that could sniff out even the most light skinned Latina in a crowded room. Like a petulant child, she kept her thick framed glasses smudged with the oil from her cheeks. Just so she wouldn’t have to actually see Hawkins.

Her mother – Carla Perea– obviously noticed the scowl, and she sighed deeply before trying to speak again.

“I know you’re not happy, but this is a new start for us. Try to make the best of it, huh?”

Alejandra kicked at her blue Jansport backpack.

“And why couldn’t we just have moved somewhere else in New Mexico?! Chingao, you didn’t even think about it, you just put your finger on the map and ya!”

“Watch your mouth, Alejandra.” mom snapped, “And stop with that mocho talk! You know it wasn’t just putting a finger and ya. We needed a fresh start, and Hawkins was the best choice we could make. It wasn’t as impulsive as you make it out to be, it’s what’s best for all three of us.”

“And what the hell about dad?!” Alejandra demanded. “Huh?! How the shit are you honoring your marriage vows by just abandoning him like that?! Better or for worse my fucking asshole!”

Her mother's eyes narrowed as she drove. Obviously her daughter’s backtalk had hit a raw nerve. One of Alejandra’s new found talents was shit talking, the same venomous spitting that only cobras in certain parts of Africa and Asia had mastered. It had only been a year and some change since she’d honed the skill, but this kind of irate wit was too well honed for it to be new.

This talent had been latent. As if waiting for the perfect opportunity…

“What’s done is done.” Carla hissed, knuckles going from tawny brown to white grip, tightening her hold on the steering wheel.

“It’s been over a year, it’s time to accept he’s not coming back. Basta!”

“Bullshit…” Alejandra hissed.

And she would have kept going, if not for Carla deciding that morning to wear her leather belt around the waistline of her denim dress. And not just any belt. Oh no… It was the thick one with the sterling silver Gary Reeves buckle.

The thing about Gary Reeves: his silver work conchos with the fine needlepoint lines hurt like a motherfucker. Especially if there weren't any soft turquoise chunks on the front to cushion your ass from a chingazo. Alejandra wasn’t wearing the right kind of clothes for a fight, anyway. Months of trial and error taught her that her Wrangler culottes – along with a paperback copy of Heretics of Dune tucked in the back pocket– were the only acceptable armor if she wanted to talk shit back to her mother.

So instead of pushing her luck, Alejandra quietly resigned herself to her repetition. Unwilling and unmotivated to start a battle, when her mother was armed and willing to pull off into a Hawkins public parking lot to humiliate them both.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

The Dodge Aspen continued down the unfamiliar streets at a snail’s crawl. Cars boxed them into the single lane going down Cherry Street towards the cluster of schools. Even though the realtor had boasted about the house’s proximity to the finest education in Roane County, the motorists of Hawkins, Indiana managed to turn a ten-minute drive into almost forty-five minutes. Luckily, Carla had anticipated this.

By five thirty that morning, mom was already blasting a mixtape of los classicos, banging on Alejandra’s bedroom door and setting off the barking of the family’s two dogs. Tiffany had almost tripped Alejandra in the bathroom, both dog and girl yelping as Alejandra stumbled and nearly smacked her head on the counter. Scruffy had refused to go outside into the dog run, so everyone stopped what they were doing and aided in chasing him out the back door into the yard with Tiffany at his heels.

And then that darned cat…

Unruly and orange Ripley had puked all over Jaime’s work pants, while he screamed at Alejandra to help him find another pair in his mess of a room. Useless from years of mi hito syndrome, he complained when his sister refused vehemently to take time from blow drying her curls to iron his creases. They’d gotten into a screaming match, until Carla finally conceded to do it for her son to “keep the peace”.

It had been a shitshow of a morning, an omen of things to come.

Carla blasted the horn at a green Gaucho with a white stripe that nearly sideswiped her, the dented vehicle trying to cut in front of their sedan into the lane and nearly taking out a couple of other cars with it.

“Pinches babosos!” Carla growled under her breath.

Alejandra was too pissed off to laugh.

The two women stayed in silence for some time, until at last Alejandra spoke up.

“You couldn’t have picked somewhere with raza at least? Like California?” she muttered, watching the faces of a group of younger teens crossing on bikes at the light.

“I’m light skinned, and I bet I’m the darkest one at school… A la chingada mujer.”

“What does it matter if there’s no raza here?!” Carla demanded, pounding her fist on the tan leather of the middle console, “Get over it. There’s no way we could have managed in California. I’m not going to kill myself working three jobs with your tios in Lynwood!”

“Enserio, mom?! You waited until right at the start of senior year, you didn’t want to wait?” Alejandra whined.

“Wait for what? Wait for you to fail another year in Pojoaque?!” Carla hissed, clearly fed up with her daughter’s bullshit, “I’m not waiting on you to pull your head out from your ass. So shut your mouth, and quit complaining or I will pull this car over. I swear to God.”

Alejandra shut her mouth. She tucked herself into the side of the passenger door with arms crossed, laying her head on the cool glass of the window and curtaining her teary brown eyes with her dark hair.

What could she say back to that?

Her mother was right. A reminder that she was a failure wasn’t necessary. The reminders of lost scholarships and a tanked GPA would follow her the rest of her life. And sometimes, if Alejandra pressed hard enough on the backs of her thighs, she could still feel the sting from the welts she’d gotten for failing senior year back at Pojoaque High School.

This change was stupid. A lot had changed in the past year. Too many things.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

The reasonably happy, vibrant teenage girl that her mother knew was gone. Instead she was replaced by a bitter, angry young adult at eighteen years of age that had her innocence ripped away too young. Alejandra was now compulsive in her actions. Self-soothing in the oddest ways as old, pre-established habits became worse or new symptoms developed.

Pacing up and down the hallway listening to music on full blast was not anything new, chewing on the cuffs of her clothes or on the floss of her friendship bracelets was. As was the rebellion of dyeing all of her clothes some shade of black or gray. Carla had lost her mind when she saw all of the blouses, skirts, and Gunne Sax dresses had been dyed one weekend. It had taken hours to get the stains out of the washer and out of the bathtub at the old apartment back in New Mexico. Chalk that up to another lesson from the Gary Reeves belt.

And then she started failing all of her classes…

Much like any child, Alejandra had always been a bit of a space case. Living half in her imagination and reading weird books, or bothering her parents with second hand anecdotes of aliens and weird monsters. Like any other student, she wanted to spend her afternoons at play rather than at the family dinner table doing homework. Yet that had all been innocent fun. Science fiction books and fairy movies did not a troubled teen make, but lately that vivid imagination was shrouded in grimdark. She read gory novels of true crime and abductions, of both the supernatural and natural genre, rather than bothering with anything like cracking open a chemistry book or meeting her tutor at the library for help with remedial math.

Obsessive thoughts, spiteful biting comments, obsessions with dark media, lashing out and isolating away from everyone… This was not normal. This was not Alejandra Perea’s normal. To everyone else, it wasn’t like her not to care about things.

But she did care. Just not about the things everyone else thought was important.

She currently cared only about two things: the death of Frank Herbert, and Hector Filemón Perea.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

“Mija, I know this isn’t ideal. But you’re strong. You’re going to do fine. Just please… Please try to make the best of this situation. Do it for me, huh?”

The scenery of green trees scattered among the brick-and-mortar buildings of Hawkins held no interest for Alejandra as she ignored her mother. Normally, she would have been captivated by all the greenery. Save for a few day trips to the Jemez Mountains, Alejandra had spent the majority of her life staring at the same desert scrub brush, sand wastes, clay mountains, and adobe houses. Along the road, there were trees and quaint little homes painted daisy yellow, gray white, or the occasional brick and mortar Georgian style home if the occupants were wealthy.

Not one person had the familiar mud brick walls or coyote fencing made of latillas and bailing wire.

Hawkins had boasted four seasons, farmlands with adorable animals, and that unique charm only available in a majority blue collar midwestern town. New Mexico had maybe three seasons and pissed off raza, but she would have given up four seasons and Midwestern charm for the sand and red clay mountains any day. New Mexico was closer to what was important.

New Mexico was closer to dad…

It only got worse as the car approached the high school. Carla pulled into the drop lane; the car still idle as she stared her daughter down with a hard gaze.

Absolutely no move was made to exit the vehicle despite the impatience of the cars behind them. Alejandra stared at the collective student body of Hawkins High with disdain, downright disgust even. As if she would rather swallow glass than get out of the Dodge. She began chewing on the sleeve of her large jacket, already beads of sweat were forming on her forehead from the balmy morning with high humidity.

“Stop chewing on it, you mensa, you’re going to ruin the sleeve!” Carla barked, swatting her daughter’s hand.

Alejandra moved the cuff away from her mouth but said nothing. Instead, she focused on fishing in the pocket of her oversized jacket for her one escape that didn’t have wheels. She produced a battered Walkman with a scratch and sniff sticker on the back. After opening the tape deck, she rooted through the various jewel cases of cassettes in her Igloo Playmate, yanking out a well loved tape from the depths and popping it in.

She pressed play. The volume was turned up so high that her mother scowled when she heard what was blasting from the orange foam speakers of the headphones.

“Come on mija, you couldn’t pick something happier for your first day?”

“Nope.” Alejandra growled, pushing the Walkman into her jacket pocket, “I’m not picking shit else. I’m going to play this fucking tape so loud, that everyone is going to stay far the fuck away from me. Fuck these people, and fuck you too.”

Despite her mother’s sputtering protests and grabbing hands she unbuckled herself, threw open the car door, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and slammed the car door on the way out as she ran towards the double doors.

Not even a whole minute had passed, and already Alejandra was making enemies out of the preppy crowd of Hawkins High. Stomping her way through throngs of students to the front office, she bumped the shoulders of anyone who got in her way, nearly sending some lanky string bean of a freshman flying into his little group of friends.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, frigid bitch!”

She barely heard him over the music, but she did catch the insult.

Who cares? Kick rocks. Kiss my ass. Fuck yourself with a bent tire iron, you little fucking twerp.

I will face my fear… I will permit it to pass over me and through me…

She hoped the coordination of the day would repel everyone too, not just her shitty attitude. Unlike everyone else who had set up their first day back ensembles with care the night before, Alejandra threw whatever she had on hand on. That morning she came to school in a black cardigan layered over top a gray linen dress, black tights layered with dirty socks, beat up Chuck Taylors that had been everywhere from White Sands to TRC, and her dark brown curls straightened with her trusty Gillette Supermax, sprayed in place with a liberal amount of Aquanet. The piece de resistance was the jacket. Even though it was the end of August, she wore a large Carhartt jacket covered in kitschy buttons and patches. Even in the hottest months of the year, that damn thing never came off.

“What are you wearing that jacket for?” asked the school admin assistant, in lieu of a good morning.

Alejandra shrugged noncommittally as she removed her headphones. She stood awkwardly in the front office, and was about to say some smart ass remark when the admin’s hard stare stopped her sharp tongue short.

“... you’re going to boil alive before lunch…” muttered the admin, fanning her neck with a manilla folder, “Heavens to Betsy, I’m sweating just looking at you!”

“... I’m a new student. May I have my school schedule, please…?” Alejandra grunted.

“Ah.” nodded the admin, pulling open one of the drawers on her filing cabinet, “Name?”

“Alejandra Perea…”

“There’s no one here by that name. I only see an Alexandra Pera here.”

Alejandra winced.

Are you fucking kidding me, bitch? Where on my fucking birth certificate did it ever say fucking “Alexandra”?! And how in the hell is “Perea” too difficult for you to say?!

“Yeah… That’s me.” she admitted, then couldn’t help herself, “Alexandra Perea.”

The admin stared down from her imposing cherry wood desk, eyes laser focused at Alejandra from over the top of her large bifocals. Evidently, she did not appreciate being corrected.

“Young lady…” snapped the admin, tapping her eggplant colored nails against a file folder, “We do not tolerate troublemakers at this school. I suggest you quit playing your little games, and say your name correctly when asked. Is that clear?”

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you-...

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am…” Alejandra muttered, looking at her shoes as she took the class schedule and locker assignment from the admin.

The headphones went back on as soon as the admin was done talking. That poor Walkman was blasting so loud, everyone else in the hallway was forced to listen in on James Hetfield’s vocals. That fucking bitch of an admin pissed Alejandra off so much, she could not help but lunge at and startle a few innocent girls in pastel color culottes as they passed by. It was her one line of defense; to deter the general populace of Hawkins High, she had decided to be a goddamned menace to anyone who could not give her a detention.

It was unfortunate really, because no matter how hard Alejandra tried to deter everyone away, it took her ten minutes to realize that Hawkins High– home of the Tigers– had fangs that could snap even the most ironclad of wills in half.

She was drastically underprepared for the high schooler’s reception to her take no shit attitude. One big dude in a letterman that she shoulder checked did not hesitate. He checked her right back, right into the tan lockers lining the halls. The resounding crash of her body colliding with metal was loud and embarrassing, causing a few passing members of the pep squad to point and laugh. As they passed they said hateful, evil, ignorant shit, screaming it into Alejandra’s ear while yanking her headphones off. They wanted her to hear everything. One even yelled out a slur.

All the hate caught her off guard, and she almost checked someone else by accident.

“Watch where you’re going, fucking gap tooth bitch!”

A foot flashed out from some wastoid and sent Alejandra toppling. She would have hit the floor and broken her glasses, had not her oversized jacket caught on the door handle to the girl’s bathroom. She hung there for a few seconds, and felt everyone’s eyes on her. Ugly peals of laughter followed. Her face turned crimson.

I will permit my fear… no… I will allow… No! I… I will permit my fear to pass over me and… and through me…?

It was fucking humiliating. She wanted everyone to go away and leave her alone. Yet in her hubris and rebellion, the attempts at being a badass only ended up attracting every kind of attention she did not want.

Pulling herself off the handle, she immediately threw open the door and hid in the girl’s bathroom. Pushing past a girl in a blue gingham sundress and a strawberry blonde side ponytail, she ran for the nearest empty stall to lock herself in. The tears could not wait until she was sure the bathroom was empty. Loud and uncontrolled sobs began to emit from her throat, the noises so awkward she did not hear the whispers of the other girls as they exited the facilities.

Fuck this day. Fuck this town. Her arm was hurting from where she hit the lockers, her pride was wounded, and Alejandra wanted out. If she could just run away now and hitchhike with the first car she saw, she would do it.

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

This was not how the second senior year was supposed to go. Senior year was supposed to be the last hoorah. A happy time to start preparing for reality. For college plans. Not a time to be stuck in a small Midwestern town that felt like a foreign country. And certainly not a time to be dealing with racist, shit attitudes.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration…

Dainty footsteps approached the stall as Alejandra bawled like a baby, a soft knock on the door making her freeze.

“Go away!” she cried, voice small and hoarse from the sobbing.

I will face my fear…

“… Hey it’s… It’s going to be okay…”

A soft, delicate voice answered. Not one familiar tone in that voice, the only hint to the identity of the one speaking was a pair of powder blue pumps at the opening of the bottom of the stall. Alejandra did not know the girl, nor did she want to.

“Go away…” she begged, face burning with embarrassment as she groveled like a prisoner for her freedom.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me…

“Please… Please just go away and leave me alone!”

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see that you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, cabrona… Quien te tiene?

The blue pumps hesitated, but eventually walked away. Leaving Alejandra to her sobbing.

She sat there on the toilet crying until the late bell rang, and everyone had cleared out of the bathroom to their first period class. With her glasses all smudged up from tears and snot, she took a moment to wipe them off with the hem of her dress, and eventually exited the stall with her tail between her legs.

Stopping at the sink, she began cleaning up. Alejandra took off her glasses and began washing her face with cold water. Blotting with a paper towel, she took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled, before making up her mind.

She would not be going to class today, or ever again for that matter.

Every part of her mind was made up. Now it would only be a matter of time to find an out.

The gears were turning as she put her headphones on, fast forwarding the cassette to her favorite song before sliding the orange headphones over her ears. Maybe she could walk home, steal Jaime’s ranfla to make her escape. No, probably she should walk down the road to the elementary school and steal the Aspen. Mom’s sedan was inconspicuous, and it would blend into the sea of cars on the freeway better than Jaime’s well loved blue 1972 Chevy Monte Carlo.

Besides, the Chevy was out of the question until Jaime got back from work at the Hawkins Water Utility, and she was not going to wait that long for him to come home. The elementary school was a closer walk, and as she walked out of the girls bathroom without checking if the coast was clear, she began to formulate how she was going to break into and hotwire her mom’s car (she knew how to do neither of these things, but she thought a good old college try couldn’t hurt).

As Alejandra power walked to the front entrance double doors, she heard nothing. Saw only the sweet promise of freedom. Walking quickly, unaware of the noise she was making, and drastically underprepared for the biggest shock of her life.

She felt herself being snagged by the backpack straps, her heart dropping into her ass as she was pulled to a chest.

The headphones were yanked from her ears, and a low voice with hot breath began muttering in her ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess.”

Alejandra jumped ten feet, and screamed.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!”

“ Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken. ” - Frank Herbert

[onceonafullmoon]

A Marionette's Ball

Yan! Chevalier x Fem! Reader x Yan! Gilbert

Tw!! Manipulation, threats of violence, implied captivity, period typical misogyny and Gilbert Von Obsidian himself

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal.  And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

-----

You need to stop fiddling with your necklace.

You know you need to calm down, but doing so is another story; you can practically feel the weight of everyone’s stares on you, not malicious, but prying still in their curiosity.

And it’s tough fighting the urge to snatch one of the champagne flutes off of the waiter's plates and down it in one gulp, but the subtle warning of Chevalier’s fingers pressing at your waist helps you forget the idea.

Right.

Just make a good impression and then you’ll get to go back to your own schedule with only one scrutinizing set of eyes on you.

It’s almost impossible to mess this up anyways, with all the effort Sariel has been putting into making you a “true lady befitting of a prince”.

Ha.

The audacity of that claim makes you laugh. 

As if you had a choice in any of this. 

As if you were something more than a puppet on a string pulled by the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Nevertheless, you pushed through the lessons easily enough, it was, at the very least, an escape from Chevalier’s smothering presence, although you would rather have buried your nose into a good book instead.

At any rate, it doesn’t seem like much of your work will be put into play considering the way that Chevalier has you glued to his side.

You suppose you get the hostility, he’s always been a touch smothering even before… this, and it doesn’t help that princes from other nations are currently visiting too.

Not that you would have the opportunity to meet any of them considering how anal Chevalier was about your “safety”.

In fact, if it were a year ago when you were still “unruly” he would have probably kept you chained in his room the whole time.

Well, if all good behavior amounted to was this then you probably could have thrown a fit to get yourself locked up again. Now it was too late, and you were stuck smiling fakely at some random noble who came to give his greetings. 

“My, my, if it isn’t the mystery woman that everyone’s been wondering about. Everyone’s been wondering about the one who stole the Chevalier Micheal’s heart, it's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you.” The nobleman, who you recall vaguely being named Lord Wessley, greets you with a certain, subtle prying look on his face as he studies you.

“Oh, you flatter me, but I’m afraid I’m not much to speak of. Any compliments should be redirected towards my fiancé.” You smile, cringing at the use of the word fiancé but happy enough with the way Chevalier’s brow furrows ever so slightly in annoyance.

You can almost hear his voice ringing out in your ears.

“If you have enough time to dish out praise, then you have enough time to do something useful with yourself, simpleton.”

“Praise worthy indeed!” Another man cuts in, rudely, albeit he���s possibly a bit drunk already. “An arsenal of military feats, a genius intellect that only appears once a century, and now a bride to be, you’re truly something else Prince Chevalier!”

You have to try your hardest to bite back the laugh bubbling up in you and Chevalier slightly grimaces.

Wessley furrows his eyebrows slightly at the intrusion but doesn’t comment, or rather, doesn’t get the chance to comment as he’s interrupted again. 

“And what a beauty she is, I can see why you’ve kept her locked up away from the rest of us!”

And now you are no longer smiling.

Karma really is a bitch.

The grip around your waist tightens and you find yourself conflicted about whether to celebrate the (hopefully only) verbal lashing this misogynistic bastard will get or to intervene for the sake of this very clearly drunk man.

Empathy wins out in the end, but also because you don’t trust Chevalier not to immediately jump at the chance to “incidentally” find this man charged with treason.

“I’m flattered by praise, truly, but you look a bit sickly to me, are you feeling alright?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off smoothly.

“Poor thing, I bet you can hardly stand, much less answer coherently, but there are several couches in the foyer for you to rest at. I’d escort you myself but, considering the circumstances, perhaps Lord Wessley can escort you instead?”

Of course, Wessley himself isn’t too keen on leaving the conversation, seeing as he probably started it to discuss his own business. But when you phrase it in such a way of offering good will, he can’t refuse. 

With a furrowed brow he replies in kind and leaves.

Perhaps Sariel’s lessons did come in handy, you think as you find yourself alone again.

A sigh from Chevalier has you mending your thoughts, not completely alone, unfortunately.

“How bothersome.” He grumbles, finally letting his arm drop from your waist.

“Yeah, being stuck around someone you can’t stand, tell me about it.” 

He gives you a look which would scare the living daylights out of even a battle hardened soldier, to which you innocently smile at.

You know him well enough to know when you’re actually in trouble.

“What? Just offering some words of support in your trying times Prince Chevalier, now wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

Your smile dips into a frown when instead of falling for the taunt he smirks at you.

“Prince Chevalier? I recall being referred to as fiancé earlier.”

You narrow your gaze, regretting your earlier decision to speak.

“Don’t read much into it, you’ll strain your eyes trying to find nothing.”

He simply smirks again.

“Complacency is a dangerous thing isn’t it?”

He leans in closer, tilting your head up, sending roils of annoyance and slight embarrassment through you as you fix your eyes on his face, unwavering from his.

“...It’d be a shame for you, if all your efforts were for naught.”

He chuckles derisively, letting you go. 

“Now, wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

You glare at him, annoyed that he used your words against you, before deciding to make a tactful retreat.

“Now that I’ve taken care of your nuisances, I’m taking care of mine for a bit and freshening up. Does that please your highness, or should I stay tethered to your side for another hour?” 

He scoffs. 

“Just don’t get lost, simpleton.”

To use Clavis’s terminology, the Cheva translation of that would mean: “Go ahead, but if you aren’t back in 10 minutes I will find you and there will be consequences.”

“...Whatever your highness wishes.”

—

You supposed Chevalier already knew that you weren’t going to the bathroom to freshen up, rather instead to find a private area to ruminate at being bested by him once more, and that almost made you even more upset.

It’s stupid that you’re even angry, you know that there's no winning a fight against him. It was already a given that he would twist your words around in an attempt to make you succumb to him, and yet…

You furrow your brow as you turn the corner.

It was all you could do, if you could annoy him, even just a bit then that would be victory enough… 

At least it should be, if you didn’t get carried away with it.

But damn you for having a competitive streak and damn him for pointing out the one idea that would make you sick to your stomach.

(Although, maybe if you thought about it more, you would find it was only his own sick desires taking form in his words.)

“Complacency, my ass.” You mutter, as you push open the door to the library.

Despite this being originally Chevalier’s domain, you’ve also been quite the avid reader, and so any time alone with books was welcome. And even if you weren’t alone… well at least he had the sense not to disturb you, outside of his general presence.

Scanning the room when you enter, you find your eyes catching on the rows of bookshelves before halting when you see the shape of a figure, dimly lit by a candle.

You frown slightly.

While there were no set rules against entering a host’s library, it was still considered bad taste to enter rooms you weren’t explicitly given access to. Not that this person seemed unaware of it, judging by the lofty coat you could make out they seemed to be born into wealth.

Well, you weren’t exactly a shining beacon of manners either, considering that you were ditching your debut ball in order to sulk in the corner of a dark room because your captor/fiancé bested you in a game of wits.

Although, when you put it that way, your life does sound significantly more ridiculous.

You, albeit hesitantly, decide to give the person the benefit of the doubt and approach them to direct them back to the ball.

“Excuse me?” You call out, nearing the figure. “Are you lost?”

They turn around, and it becomes apparent that they’re a man. But not just any man, you realize, as a few more details come to light that have you suddenly freezing in place.

First, the dark crimson eye that gazes upon you while the other hides behind a black eye patch.

Second, the black cane who’s shiny finish glints in the candle light.

And lastly, the golden encrusted emblem, signature of an Obsidianite.

“Oh no, I’m exactly where I need to be.” Gilbert Von Obsidian responds cheerfully.

…

You suddenly have the sense that you’ve, to use words that Chevalier claims are “crude and boorish”, absolutely fucked up.

To be fair to you, you hadn’t been able to see even a glimpse of any foreign princes, much less would you have predicted that the damn Prince of Obsidian was going to be there, or more accurately here, in your lovely library safe space. 

It’s not often that anyone other than Chevalier makes you stumped on what to do these days, but that goes to show how dangerous complacency really is.

“Prince Gilbert.” You finally manage to greet, falling into a practiced curtsey. 

When you pull your head back up, he has an innocuous smile on his face, eyes crinkled slightly.

“No need to lower yourself, (Name) (Last Name), soon enough we’ll be on the same social standing won’t we?”

Oh, of course he knows who you are, couldn’t make it any less difficult for you could he? Still, the provocation (actually, whether he knew it as a provocation or not was a matter to be unseen yet) of your future engagement has you irritated as well as afraid.

“You never know what might happen.” You respond neutrally. “I’d hate to offend because I grew cocky.”

“Cautious, aren’t you?” He questions.

“That’s a good trait to have, although, I can’t say I would’ve thought the woman who tamed the Brutal Beast would be so meek.”

You want to laugh at his attempt at a jab, because he couldn’t be closer to the truth.

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal. 

And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

But even still, you couldn’t help the words that poured out of your mouth.

“I would argue that being meek and being cautious are entirely different, but it must be difficult to understand from your perspective.”

“That so?” He hums. “What’s your view then?”

“That you can’t tell the difference, because for you, someone who has been powerful and feared for so long, there’s hardly any need for subtlety when dealing with others. For people like me, discretion is a necessary tool.”

A tinge of bitterness seeps into your tone as you respond, or maybe it's jealousy; you can’t tell. 

But it’s enough to make Gilbert pause, facing you, seemingly looking at you like he hasn’t seen you before, his eye glinting with something akin to interest. 

Oh.

Shit.

You’ve always had a bad habit of overplaying your hand during your time with Chevalier, possibly because you were so used to a lack of consequences due to his soft spot. It would’ve been better and safer for him to believe you were Chevalier’s little trophy wife and suffer the stab it would take to your ego. 

“...I suppose that “genius’s thinking alike” must be true, for you to be able to make such a succinct assumption about me.” He smiles, this time his eyes glinting with something darker.

“...I wouldn’t go so far as to imply that Prince Gilbert.” You say, desperate in your attempt to backtrack.

“Oh? Cowering now, are we?” He asks, the smile on his face growing more predatory. “And here I thought you’d be more vicious.”

He’s clearly trying to pry at you, to goad you into snapping at him, but you’ve since realized that the playing field had favored him from the start and you’d do better to avoid the trap he’d set for you.

“...I think you have rather high expectations, that you might think of me similar to the company I keep.”

“And you’d be right.” He says, drawing himself closer to you, even more empowering as he draws near, his red eye glistening like the blade of a knife.

You find yourself wanting to run, like the terrified lamb you are in the face of the threatening jaws of the beast in front of you.

But you don’t.

Because these damn beasts are always just toying with you, never daring to go for the killing blow.

He towers over you, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, but you find that you can’t quite summon up the effort to change your expression.

“…”

“…”

Moments pass and his eye widens a bit, seemingly shocked at your lack of expression.

“You aren’t scared, are you?” He states, more as a fact than a question as he pulls himself away to an appropriate distance.

You shrug as if to say you don’t quite care, but you felt like laughing.

The truth is, he’s wrong. 

You’re constantly scared, every single day of your life.

When you wake up, when you go to sleep, you’re filled with horror constantly, terrified by the man who lays beside you. Every move you make is calculated and stuff, made in fear of the blades, not set to cut you, but rather everything you know and love.

Even now you’re scared, not quite by the prospect of death, but by the fact that it doesn’t scare you.

The fact that you would rather accept freedom in the form of being removed from your earthly ties than to live another life being tethered to this life scares you, because you know death is the only way you’ll be safe from him.

It brings you only slight ease that despite his best efforts of chasing perfection, Chevalier still only amounts to a man.

Gilbert’s laugh snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the man in front of you.

“That’s excellent!” He says, toothy grin lighting up his face, eye lighting up like he’s a child who’s found a new toy to play with.

Somewhere deep down you can feel a familiar sense of dread forming in the pit of your stomach that only comes with Chevalier, almost like deja vu.

It shouldn’t surprise you, after all it’s said that the prince of Obsidian is a genius only the likes of Chevalier could rival. It’s the type of gossip you used to absentmindedly listen to while busying yourself walking down the streets.

Still, you’ve survived Chevalier, albeit with your share of scars, you can handle at least one chance meeting with another snobby prince.

“Are you done threatening me then Prince Gilbert? I believe my fiancé is looking for me.” You say, keeping your tone neutral.

He chuckles, that wide, creepily childlike smile still on his face as he hears you speak.

“Of course. Tell Prince Chevalier that I congratulate him on finding such an interesting toy.”

“Of course.” You mimic, turning on your heel to leave. “Perhaps next time we can meet in a more fitting setting rather than the library, Prince Gilbert.”

Petty, yes, but he doesn’t seem affected by the rebuttal you throw his way judging by the small laugh he lets out as you leave.

Toy, huh?

You think, as you find yourself retracing your steps back to the ballroom. 

More fitting than lover that’s for sure, but you doubt even a genius like Gilbert would understand from just a glance that that was the case, rather he meant it in a dismissive manner.

But still, you can’t help the bitter smile that appears on your face at the statement.

Because you would end up back at Chevalier’s side, and either through your expressions or through his own logic system that you couldn’t possibly fathom, he would understand everything that happened. And then, like always, you would end up locked up in a cage while, ironically, the beast who should be locked in there would prowl around, growling at anyone who came close, possessive of his toy.

And the worst part is, even though you could see the path paved for you, leading you to your own demise, you still had to follow it, like written in a story, like fate.

And maybe that’s why you smile instead of frown when you see your beloved captor’s face twist into a look of grim understanding as he sees you again, wordlessly gesturing you to draw nearer with his gaze.

Because ironically enough, the only person even close enough to understanding or even changing your situation was the same breed as the monster that possessed you.

And it’s an amusing thought to you.

But if you could see the expression of a certain dark haired man, thinking almost fondly on your interaction, you wouldn’t find it half as funny.