#this is all i have for now but it is still important

[seat-safety-switch]

Turns out there's a big problem with turning all the world's knowledge over to a machine that doesn't understand when things are outright lies. We forgot how to make so many things in the years after they burned the libraries. Soup, for one. I'm proud to announce that, after billions of dollars, we've turned the corner on soup generation.

Now, if you go out there and you ask the Core Minds how to make soup, they're going to feed you some bullshit about primitive humans eating bones. That's... I don't know where that came from, but it's not right. You gotta, and it took our scientists thousands of hours in the lab to figure this one out, boil the bones. And it also turns out that the crusts of pizza? Those are not bones. Every day, we learn something new that has been conveniently forgotten for us by the bullshit engine.

I'd like to introduce to you our early prototype of chicken noodle soup. Despite the name, the noodles did not come from the chickens, as the machines told us. And you don't have to glue them together, either. Just boil some chicken bones, and then take the chicken bones out – that's very important, we lost a good man that way – and put in some noodles. Maybe some vegetable bones as well. Condoms are not a vegetable, despite what the New York Times just published.

Tastes pretty good, huh? We're still working out the seasoning, which we initially thought involved putting the soup inside an oven set to five hundred degrees Fahrenheit (or approximately -97 Celsius, according to my calculator which also doesn't know what eight plus seven is.) One day, God willing, humanity will figure out where salt comes from once again.

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[fandoms-x-reader]

Apologize

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers say something too harsh to MC so MC refuses to talk to them or interact with them. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 8,242

It wasn’t unusual for Lucifer to get snappy with others.

He was constantly overworked and over exhausted and his brothers liked to cause as much trouble for him as possible.

But, no matter how tired he was, Lucifer always did his best to keep his composure around you.

He had been working really hard on a specific project for Lord Diavolo recently and you could see how tired he was.

You made frequent trips to his study, bringing him his favorite drink and massaging his shoulders whenever you could to try to help.

But, now Lucifer was barely able to keep his eyes open anymore and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.

You carefully approached him and gently rubbed his arm, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even look up from his papers.

“Lucifer, I think you should take a break,” you told him honestly.

“I don’t have time for that Y/N,” he replied, continuing to work.

“At least for a little bit? A break would do you some good,” you tried again, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“I already told you, I don’t have time for that,” he reiterated, more annoyed this time. 

But, you were really worried about him, so you didn’t want to give up so easily.

“Lucifer,” you began again and he slammed his hand down on his desk making you let out a small gasp.

“What I’m doing is important and I need to concentrate, so if you’re just going to keep pestering me then just leave because, at this point, all you are is a nuisance,” he stated coldly.

You looked at him for a moment, feeling the sting of his words but not knowing how to react. He didn’t even care enough to see that his words had hurt you.

“Fine,” you muttered before getting up and leaving his study.

 Lucifer was really in the thick of it with work so he didn’t even realize the words that he had said and how they must have hurt you until later.

He was still in his study and he sat back in his chair, rolling shoulders as he let out a small groan of pain. They were sore from spending so much time in the same position. Usually, you would try and massage them to help prevent them from getting to this point.

He then looked down at his teacup and noticed that it was completely empty and had been for a while. But, you always made sure to bring him his favorite drink so that he could continue to work.

That’s when Lucifer began thinking back to the last time he saw you enter his study and what happened the last time. 

He let out a deep sigh as he replayed the words he had said to you in his head. Surely, you knew that he didn’t mean them, right? He loved you and you had to know that.

He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to you but he had to keep working. It was his responsibility.

Meanwhile, you avoided Lucifer’s study at all costs. You were just trying to help Lucifer and if he couldn’t see that then you didn’t have anything else to say to him.

Lucifer only lasted one day without seeing you when he started to grow concerned. He tried sending you a couple of text messages, not wanting to leave his study, but he was met with crickets and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He had reached a point in the project where, perhaps, he could take a small break and he immediately went to your bedroom, knocking on your door.

There was no answer and while he was tempted to break it down to make sure you weren’t in there ignoring him, he kept his composure.

You had just come back from the kitchen, a drink in hand when you saw Lucifer standing in front of your bedroom door.

You stopped in your tracks as the two of you made eye contact and you took in his appearance.

He looked even more miserable than he did the last time you saw him.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just staring at each other.

After another moment, you spun on your heels, trying to retreat back to the kitchen.

Lucifer was in front of you in an instant, inches away from you and the close proximity itself was enough to start revitalizing him.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his deep voice wanting to make you swoon after not hearing it for an entire day. But, you stood your ground.

“Why shouldn’t I be? Since I’m just a nuisance to you and all,” you replied, your eyes filled with noticeable seriousness and hurt.

It took a lot to make Lucifer falter, but when you threw his words to you back at him, he nearly winced as if you slapped him.

He took a step closer to you before telling you, “You know that I don’t really think that.”

You let out a small sigh as you looked down to the ground and Lucifer realized that maybe he had really messed up this time. Maybe you really didn’t know how he truly felt about you. 

He gently raised your chin with one of his gloved hands so that you were looking at him before gently pressing his lips on yours in an intimate kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes locked with you as he told you, “You could never be a nuisance to me, because I love you.”

And those were the words you were waiting to hear - the ones that always made you swoon even if you were mad at him.

“Please, come back and join me in my study,” he asked, his hand dropping down to interlace his fingers with yours.

Under his intense gaze, you couldn’t help but feel your resolve cracking as you allowed him to lead you to his study.

Once there, you told Lucifer, “You still have some making up to do.” Lucifer smirked slightly at your words before sitting down on his chair and pulling you into his lap.

You nearly spilled your drink at his actions and his smirk only grew. “I still have some work to do, but this way, I can pay attention to you as well,” he told you, one arm wrapping around you to keep you in place while the other continued to write on the document in front of him.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Lucifer continued to speak before you could, his lips inches from your ear as he told you, “Then, when I’m done with this, you can have my full attention.”

Mammon had just completed a long photoshoot for a magazine that wanted him to be his model.

It was a lot of work, but the paycheck was worth it and he already knew what he wanted to do with it. Take you on a date!

Mammon was so excited to take you out that you couldn’t help but say yes.

He was always in a good mood whenever he came into money, no matter how that may be, but it was even better when he got to spend time with you because of it.

He had a whole plan to take you to a traveling carnival that was passing through the Devildom and the two of you left almost immediately.

The carnival was a lot bigger than you were expecting, filled with rides, food stalls, thrill acts and so much more.

You had been enjoying your time with Mammon there and it was one of the rare times that you got to see him drop his act and just be himself around you without the worry of one of his brothers being around.

He was even holding your hand the entire time, a small blush coating his cheeks as he tried to play the action off like it was no big deal.

After going on one of the more thrilling rides, the two of you decided to take a break and you sat down on a nearby bench as you watched one of the acts that was performing.

Your head rested against Mammon’s shoulder and this thumb traced circles on the back of your hand.

Suddenly, a random demon appeared sitting right next to Mammon and looking at the two of you. 

You raised your head to pay attention, confused as to what he wanted and the demon leaned in closer, talking in a quiet voice. Mammon was about to tell him to get lost when the demon spoke. 

“You’re Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, right?” the demon asked with hope in his eyes.

You and Mammon shared a look, questioning how this demon knew Mammon and that was all the confirmation he needed.

“I knew it!” he said with a smile before adding, “Please, sir, follow me and I’ll lead you to the undercover casino.”

Mammon’s eyes widened at his words. “Undercover casino?” Mammon asked. He didn’t know there would be one at this carnival.

“Yes, you’re one of our best patrons. If you come with me, we can treat you to the full service,” the demon replied and you could practically see Mammon’s eyes light up with gold.

“Mammon, I don’t think we should-,” you tried to say but you were cut off by him jumping up, a large smile on his face.

“Lead the way!” Mammon said and the demon lit up as he began showing the two of you the way.

“Mammon, I think this is a bad idea,” you told him and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry! We’ll only stay for a few minutes,” he replied, and you let out a small sigh. It was never a few minutes.

And you were right, just like you knew you would be. The two of you were there for at least an hour as Mammon’s train of thought was completely taken over by his greed.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want to keep playing, you’ll have to put up more money,” the dealer stated and Mammon searched his wallet for more. Empty. 

“Y/N, loan me some money, will ya’?” Mammon asked and you could feel yourself start to get annoyed. 

“Mammon, you already lost all of the money you earned from that job. Let’s just call it a night,” you tried to reason with him, but his lips turned into a frown.

“C’mon, don’t be such a killjoy. I’m gonna win big this time, I know it!” Mammon tried to convince you, but you were done with the casino.

“Mammon, we should go home,” you stated more firmly.

“I spent the whole night doin’ what you wanted, so the least you could do is spend some time doin’ what I want!” Mammon argued.

His words cut you, but you tried to gain control of the situation. “Mammon-,” you tried once again but he cut you off with a loud groan of frustration.

“If I wanted someone to ruin my fun then I would have taken Lucifer,” Mammon stated before muttering, “Jeez, I don’t even know why I took ya’ out in the first place.”

Your heart dropped at his words as you felt tears sting your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him see them fall. Fine.

You searched through your things to find your money and handed it to Mammon who had a large smile on his face at the sight of it. “Bet as much as you want. I’m going home,” you stated before walking away and back to the House of Lamentation.

Just as you knew, once again, Mammon lost all of the money you had given him and now he had nothing left.

He looked around the casino for you and when he couldn’t find you, he started calling you and texting you. Did you really leave?

As the money-hungry fog started to lift from his mind, Mammon was able to start thinking clearly and he realized just how badly he had messed up. 

He continued to try to call you as he made his way back to the House of Lamentation, but you refused to answer his calls.

When he got to the house, he immediately went to your room and knocked on your bedroom door, but he was met with more silence.

He tried to get you to open the door the entire night but when he realized you weren’t going to, he sulked back to his room. How was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him?

Your silent treatment continued for the next few days. You wouldn’t talk to him at RAD and you would lock him out of your room before he had a chance to talk to you back at the House of Lamentation.

Mammon was growing more and more depressed about it too. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.

You had purposefully been only leaving your room at times when you thought Mammon would be out of the house or asleep.

It was too painful to see after the things he said to you when you were just trying to keep him from getting further into debt.

It was a little after midnight when you decided to go to the kitchen to get some food. You managed to make it to the fridge with no problem, but right as you grabbed the item you wanted, Mammon suddenly entered.

The two of you looked at each other in shock, neither one of you expecting the other to be there.

You wanted nothing more than to go back to your room, but he was blocking the exit.

“Uh…hi,” Mammon said, looking down at the ground. He was nervous and under any other circumstance, you would feel a little bad for him.

He didn’t say anything else, so you decided to try to push past him to get back to your room.

But as you passed him, Mammon gently grabbed your arm. “Wait,” he said, finally bringing himself to look at you and you paused to listen to what he had to say.

He was bad at speeches so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I miss ya’.”

And his puppy dog eyes and those words that sounded so sad were enough to almost make you cave. Almost.

Mammon could tell it wasn’t enough so he continued to say, “I’m sorry about what I said. You’re the only one I want to go out with and I don’t know why ya’ even agreed to go out with me,” he told you honestly and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, shattering the walls that you had put up.

You gently reached up and cupped his cheek with one of your hands and he immediately leaned into your touch. 

You pulled away after a moment and began walking to your room, leaving a very confused Mammon standing there.

You turned back to face him when you realized he wasn’t following you and you motioned towards your room before asking, “Are you coming?”

He got a big smile at your words and he nodded his head, letting you lead him to your room.

As soon as you shut the door, Mammon engulfed you in his arms, pulling you onto the bed and refusing to let go.

You let yourself melt in his embrace before telling him, “No more gambling on dates.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours before replying, “Promise.”

There were a few things that Levi was uptight about and those things usually had something to do with either his anime, manga, or videogames.

Other than those things, Levi was usually pretty nonchalant. He didn’t care what others did or didn’t do and he didn’t complain if they didn’t spend time with him.

He just usually did his own thing and you admired him for that.

It didn’t take long for you and Levi to start hanging out, common interests bringing the two of you together.

And Levi soon found that he was going against all of his beliefs as a shut-in. He was starting to actually care about what others did. Well, about what one person did in particular.

Things that Levi used to love to do by himself didn’t seem as fun when you weren’t around, so he tried to invite you over as much as he possibly could.

You didn’t mind at all because Levi usually invited you to do something you liked doing anyway.

Levi never had someone that liked the same things he liked as much as you did, which is probably what added to his infatuation of spending time with you.

And it was like a secret that only the two of you shared, or a language that only the two of you knew how to speak.

Or, that’s how Levi thought of it until he caught you and Solomon talking at RAD.

You had mentioned one of your and Levi’s favorite games to Solomon and he had, surprisingly, known about it.

So the two of you started talking about all your favorite characters and mechanics of the game. 

In your defense, it was a completely innocent conversation between friends, but Levi didn’t see it that way.

What he saw is the way you smiled at Solomon as he spoke, in a way that Levi only wanted you to look at him.

And what he heard was the way you sweetly laughed at Solomon’s jokes, with a laugh that was supposed to be reserved for his ears.

And then, you invited Solomon to come over to the House of Lamentation and play the game with you and Levi.

His sin had taken over him faster than he could process what was happening and he stood in between you and Solomon in his demon form, a very unhappy look on his place.

“Levi? Are you okay?” you asked him, worried when you saw the form he was in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, sending a glance to Solomon.

“We were just talking,” you replied, confused as to what he was getting at.

“You invited him to play our game!” Levi snapped back and you and Solomon shared a look as you realized why he might be upset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you replied honestly. Solomon and Levi were friends and Solomon had come over lots of time to play games with Levi, so why should this time be any different?

But your words seemed to only set Levi off more as his insecurities got the better of him.

“Well, it might not seem like a big deal to you but it’s a big deal to me,” he replied and you could hear the hurt in his voice. The conversation was spiraling and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Levi, I didn’t mean anything by that,” you tried to reason but he was too far in his head down.

“This is what I get I guess,” he stated and you looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned. 

“It means I never should have tried to be friends with some lame normie who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves,” Levi snapped back and this time it was your turn to be hurt.

“Let’s all calm down,” Solomon interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation and Levi’s demon form caught the attention of Lucifer. Levi knew furthering the fight would only get him involved, so he backed down.

“Whatever,” Levi muttered before walking away and Solomon turned to you. 

“Are you okay?” Solomon asked you and you replied with a short, “I’m fine.”

You went back to the House of Lamentation with the full intention of avoiding Levi and giving him the silent treatment, which was all too easy to do because he didn’t leave his room after the fight.

You were both getting more and more miserable as you spent time apart, but Levi was upset because he thought you liked Solomon and you were upset because of what he said to you so neither of you were ready to apologize.

After about a week of the two of you not speaking, it was starting to affect everyone else as well.

Solomon decided to do something about it since he was technically involved.

He came to Levi’s room, fully expecting Levi to not answer the door; but, he had.

Truth be told, Levi had only opened it in the hopes that you would be on the other side but he was largely disappointed when he saw Solomon standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asked and Solomon gave him an innocent smile.

“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” Solomon replied. 

“About what?” Levi asked and Solomon’s expression turned to a serious one.

“About Y/N,” he replied and at the mention of your name, a blush rose to Levi’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Levi replied, attempting to shut the door to his room but Solomon stopped him.

“Please, just listen,” Solomon said and Levi, having no choice, let him continue.

“The only reason that Y/N and I were talking about the game was because they were telling me how much they’ve been enjoying playing it with you,” Solomon told Levi. 

“So?” Levi asked and Solomon wanted to roll his eyes at the oblivious demon.

“They were telling me about how much they’ve been enjoying spending time with you,” Solomon tried to further clarify.

Something clicked in Levi’s mind this time and his cheeks burned a furious red as he understood what Solomon was trying to say. 

He quickly slammed the door on Solomon’s face to process the new information on his own and then he felt like a total idiot for snapping at you.

It only took him a few more minutes to show up at your door, nervously knocking on it. 

You opened it a few moments later and Levi saw his own miserableness reflected on you. 

“I…I know I messed everything up a-and you’ll probably never forgive me. But, I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you wanted to play some games,” Levi said practically in one breath before he could chicken out of it. 

He held your favorite game in his hands along with some snacks, hoping that you would let him in.

“Why would you want to spend time with a lame normie like me?” you asked and Levi winced at your words. He deserved that.

He let out a defeated sigh, casting his gaze down at the floor before telling you, “Because I don’t think you're lame. You’re the most amazing person I know. But, if you don’t want to play that’s fine, I’ll just leave you alone.”

His dejected look pulled at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but stop him by gently grabbing his arms.

He looked back at you with hopeful eyes and you told him, “Maybe we can play for a little bit.”

Levi immediately rushed into your room, a bright smile on his face that was contagious as he set everything up.

This was only the beginning of his apology and he was going to make sure he made up for what he said.

And maybe, just maybe, along with an apology he could also confess his feelings for you.

Out of all the demon brothers, Satan was the best at holding a grudge.

After all, he had been holding once against Lucifer for his entire life. 

Satan was a classy demon but he was equally stubborn and if he didn’t want to back down from a fight, there was no making him do so.

So, when the two of you got into a fight, you knew that it was going to be one with lasting consequences.

Satan had invited you on a day trip that involved a long train ride both to and from the destination. 

He didn’t want you to be bored so he offered to lend you one of his books.

Everything was going so perfectly and it was a very romantic outing filled with sweet nothings and intimate moments.

But, then the time to go back home came and that’s when it all started falling apart.

You were frantically trying to search your bag for the book that Satan had lent you while you waited for the train to arrive, but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

 Satan noticed your frantic movements beside him and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked you as you continued to search.

“Your book,” you replied, and the content expression that was on his face moments before dropped as he felt a flicker of anger inside of him.

“The book I let you borrow?” Satan asked as you closed your bag with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Satan, I must have left it on the train when we got off it,” you told him, a contrite expression on your face. You felt awful.

“How could you be so careless?” Satan asked and you were taken aback by his words.

“I didn’t mean to,” you argued but Satan’s wrath was only growing further and once he went down this road, it was almost impossible to stop.

“That was one of my favorite books! I only let you borrow it as a gesture of kindness,” he stated.

“Satan, I told you I was sorry. I’ll buy you another copy when we get back,” you responded.

“It won’t be the same,” he snapped back, refusing to look at you now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you replied and you knew those words were a mistake because if he wasn’t angry before, that definitely set him off.

The two of you engaged in a very heated exchange as others looked on and the only thing that stopped you was the arrival of the train.

You and Satan refused to talk to each other the whole way back and you sat in anger and embarrassment for causing such a big scene.

You immediately went to your separate rooms as soon as you got back to the House of Lamentation and you were left to wonder how such a simple thing could ruin not only the way back but the entire trip when the two of you had been so happy together moments before that.

Satan could admit to himself that he may have overreacted a bit, but admitting it to you was a completely different story. And, you believed that you already apologized so what else was there to say?

Which left the two of you at an impasse. You wouldn’t speak to each other or even look at each other despite the ache you had for each other.

The others had heard about what happened and tried to get the two of you to talk. After all, they all agreed that you were fighting over something trivial, but neither you nor Satan gave in.

It wasn’t until the two of you got stuck in a situation a couple of weeks later that he realized how stupid the argument was.

Satan was reading in the library at the House of Lamentation and you walked in to grab your own book, not expecting him to be there.

As soon as you saw him, you averted your gaze, focusing on finding the book you were looking for.

Satan kept occasionally glancing at you while you searched, but he didn’t say anything.

Finally, you found the book you were looking for, but it was in a stack of books on top of one of the bookshelves.

You were struggling to reach it and could use some help. Specifically from a demon who was already there.

Satan kept his eyes on his book, a smug smile threatening to form as he knew you needed help and would have to talk to him to ask him for it.

But, you refused to give him the satisfaction, so you tried to grasp it yourself, causing them all to tumble.

You let out a gasp of pain as they fell on top of you, one of the larger ones hitting you in the head and knocking you out.

Satan was on his feet the instant he saw what happened and he quickly approached you with worry in his eyes.

You had a small cut on your forehead that was bleeding and when he saw that you were knocked out, the guilt instantly flooded him. He should’ve just helped you.

He carried you to his bedroom and treated the small cut on your forehead before sitting next to you, watching you sleep.

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for a fact that you were okay.

A little while later, you began to stir and when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with concerned, green ones.

“How are you feeling?” he asked you immediately and you slowly began to remember what happened. 

“My head hurts,” you admitted and he nodded his head, handing you some pain medicine.

You took it gratefully and as it fell silent, you realized Satan had just talked to you.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him again. He must have known what you were thinking because he let out a small sigh before climbing into the bed with you and pulling you into him.

You moved your head back just a bit so that you could look at him.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and for calling you careless,” he told you as he lovingly looked into your eyes, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before leaving his fingers tangled in it.

“I’m sorry for losing your book,” you replied, savoring every moment of the touch you had craved.

“I can always get another copy,” he reassured you, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you, “You’re what I’m afraid of losing more than anything. I can’t ever get another copy of you and I wouldn’t want it.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Satan smiled at you before pulling you onto his chest so that he could hold you.  

Asmo was quick and witty when he wanted to be.

His greatest fighting tactic was his words and everyone knew that.

He could be mean to those who deserved it - but you would never deserve it.

You would never be on the opposite end of Asmo’s repartee because he simply loved you too much.

So, when Asmo said something to you that had crossed the line, he didn’t even realize it until after he said the words.

You had been having a particularly rough day and you sought Asmo out for some comfort.

He immediately suggested that the two of you have a spa day. It was the perfect way to relax!

Of course, Asmo was already fully prepared for a last-minute spa day.

He told you to just sit back and relax while he got everything ready. He knew that you would need extra pampering that day so he wanted to give you the full treatment.

And Asmo was the best at pampering you - but because of the rough day you had, you were on edge.

While doing different things, Asmo would make small comments about how you could improve certain aspects of your hair and skin routine.

Things like - your hair feels a little dry, you should try using a better conditioner. Or, your skin’s starting to look wrinkly, you need to start a better skincare routine.

To him, these comments were all coming from a place of love. He was just trying to give you advice since he had tried almost every beauty product known to the world.

But with you already being frustrated, the comments started to sound more like nagging; and, they began making you feel a bit self-conscious.

Wanting to avoid an argument, you suggested stopping the spa for now, but when Asmo kept pressing you for the reason, you snapped slightly. 

The small argument quickly blew up into a bigger one and Asmo resorted to using his quick wit as a defense mechanism.

By the end of it, you had both said things you didn’t mean and you had left his room quickly, seeking solidarity in your own.

Asmo was the biggest attention seeker in the entire house, so he doesn’t take being ignored or avoided by anyone very well.

But he especially doesn’t take it well when it’s coming from you - the person he loves the most.

The day after the two of you fought, he expected you to be mad, but he had already prepared an apology for that.

The thing about Asmo is that he’s not afraid to apologize for something he did if he feels like he was in the wrong, unlike some of the other brothers.

Besides, the sooner he apologized, the sooner the two of you could make up. And that was his favorite part of any argument.

But, with you not speaking to him and avoiding him at all costs, how was he supposed to apologize?

Asmo only lasted one day of you ignoring him before he was at your door, tears in his eyes begging you to talk to him.

He was very dramatic with his begging, but with how dramatic Asmo usually was, it was par for the course.

If you let him in, he’ll immediately hug you, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he rests his head in the crook of your neck, crying as he apologizes as many times as it takes for you to forgive him.

He didn’t mean to say those things - he would never hurt you on purpose. It was just in the heat of the moment. He’s a very passionate guy after all.

Those are things he’ll tell you, his lips brushing against your skin as he says it, his hands sliding down just a little past what would be considered proper.

All things he knew would chip away at your walls.

He knew everything about you, especially when it came to things you liked. Things that made you cave no matter the situation.

Your resolve was shaky now and Asmo knew it, gently placing kisses on your neck and you subconsciously leaned into his touch, ever so slightly exposing more of your skin to him.

“Asmo,” you warned as he continued his kisses. You wanted to be mad at him, and you wanted to sound mad. But, your walls were crumbling under his touch and when his name left your lips, it was filled with love instead of anger.

A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he heard his name and he looked into your eyes, his eyes drawing you in even more.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you Y/N?” he asked innocently - far too innocently for the thoughts currently running through his mind.

His lips were inches from yours and you let out a small sigh before closing the gap between the two of you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

You supposed you could let him off with a warning this time. After all, you were the one who snapped first.

Asmo wouldn’t hold it against you though. All that mattered was that the two of you made up.

Beel was absolutely panicking when he realized that you weren’t speaking to him and were avoiding him at all costs.

Mostly because he had no idea what he had done wrong and since you weren’t talking to him, he couldn’t even ask you.

It must have been something bad given the silent treatment. But, he couldn’t even think of something small he might have done - let alone something big enough for you to give him the silent treatment.

He thought about the last time the two of you interacted.

You were in his room with him, and he had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head was pressed against his chest as he held you close, a peaceful smile resting on his face.

He felt content and slowly but surely drifted off. 

The next thing he knew, you had moved off him in a rush, exiting his bedroom before he could get a word out and you had been avoiding him ever since.

But, you had a very different recollection of what had happened.

You were cuddling against Beel as previously stated, and you were feeling content as well. Everything just felt right when you were in his arms.

But, only a few minutes into cuddling Beel told you, “I don’t know why we’re still doing this.”

Your eyes immediately snapped open as you tried to process what Beel had just said.

“What?” you asked softly.

His hand was tangled in your hair, holding your head in place, so you couldn’t look up at him to see if he was being serious or not.

“I think this pointless,” he murmured again and your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t really mean that, right?

“Beel,” you tried to say, but you were cut off by him continuing to speak.

“I think you should go,” he added and you decided to listen to him, pushing yourself off of him and going to your room, locking the door.

You hated that he could hold you so lovingly while he simultaneously broke up with you.

Seeing him was painful so you avoided him at all costs and you didn’t want to hear any excuse he might have so you refused to speak to him.

Beel had been doing everything he could to get your attention, but he failed at every attempt.

The lack of your presence had taken a toll on him. He had been feeling sad and lonely and he missed you more than anything.

Not to mention, he had seen you looking upset and he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why you were sad because he hated seeing it.

He would do anything to make you happy, he just wished you would let him help. Whatever it was - he could fix it.

He only lasted a couple of weeks without you before he decided he had to do something.

So one day when you had just gotten home from RAD, he picked you up and carried you to his room, shutting the door and blocking it with his body, despite your many protests.

He knew that his strength overpowered yours so you wouldn’t be able to push past him.

You could use the pact against him to get him to move, but he was hoping you wouldn’t resort to that - he just wanted to talk.

When you realized that Beel had you trapped you let out a sigh, sitting down on his bed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What do you want, Beel?” you asked him, looking anywhere but him. And the way you said his name angrily instead of the affectionate way you used to say it hurt.

But just hearing your voice, even if you sounded mad, was like a breath of fresh air.

He moved closer to you, his big puppy dog eyes, staring at you with so much love as he tried to figure out what to say.

“You seem sad,” he told you, carefully sitting down on the bed next to you and you let out a scoff.

“Of course I’m sad,” you replied and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

“Why?” he asked innocently and you looked at him incredulously.

When he saw the look you were giving him, he asked, “Did I do something? Is that why you won’t talk to me?”

And now your eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he wasn’t making any sense.

“You broke up with me,” you stated simply and his eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief. He would never.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you decided to recount the details of that day, telling him everything he said to you.

And his expression went from one of confusion to understanding as he realized what had happened.

Beel had a dream after he fell asleep cuddling you. The usual suspect - Mammon - was trying to get Beel to do something he didn’t want to do. He remembered saying all of those things to his brother in his dream - but he didn’t have any recollection of saying them out loud.

“What?” you asked as he finished talking. He was asleep?! 

A small blush coated your cheeks as you realized that you never looked at him. He kept you in place at first and then you were so upset that you walked out without sparing another glance towards him.

Beel pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did that day, holding you close to him.

“I love you so much. I would never break up with you,” he told you quietly, hoping that you would accept what he was saying as the truth.

You immediately melted into his touch as you realized it was all a big misunderstanding and your skin felt hot wherever his met yours.

Beel let out a deep breath of relief when you began to relax and he was determined to never let you go again.

The last couple of weeks had been hard on both of you and if nothing else, it was only proof as to how much you loved each other.

He just hoped that his dreams never interfered with your relationship again.

Like Satan, Belphie is one of the most stubborn when it comes to apologizing or admitting he was wrong about something.

He handles issues with the silent treatment in the hopes that they’ll either resolve themselves or simply go away.

He’s never been one for taking the initiative and he’s even less motivated to do so when it comes to an argument.

The two of you had been bickering more than usual thanks to the eldest brother.

Belphie had been slacking off a little too much at RAD in favor of napping and it was starting to affect Lucifer.

He had tried to ask Beel to help his twin brother keep up with his studies, but there was only so much that he could do.

If Belphie didn’t want to do something, then, simply put, he wasn’t going to do it - no matter who Lucifer sicced on him.

But, still, Lucifer asked you to try since you had a bond that was both very different yet equally as important as Beel’s bond to Belphie.

You didn’t want to do it - plain and simple. You knew that it would put you in a hard place with Belphie.

But, as the human exchange student, you couldn’t help but feel like part of your responsibility was to help the demon brothers.

And whether Belphie believed it or not, you were just trying to help him. You knew that if he didn’t get caught up with his studies, the punishment from Lucifer would be much worse than your nagging.

But, after a few days' worth of you waking Belphie up to beg him to do his homework, both of you were getting fed up with it.

Belphie kept complaining about how you sounded like Lucifer and you kept telling him he was acting like a brat.

It didn’t get much further than that though until one night when Belphie decided to be particularly stubborn.

You came into his room just like you had been doing, but it didn’t matter what you did, Belphie refused to get up.

You tried to reason with him, you tried to remind him of what Lucifer would do if he didn’t get up, you even tried to bribe him, but nothing worked.

You sat next to the bed for a while as you tried to figure out your last step, and then an idea popped into your head.

You hated it because you knew that Belphie would hate it, but he left you no choice.

After preparing yourself and running through your plan multiple times, you got up and looked at Belphie who was sleeping peacefully.

You let out a small sigh before leaning closer and grabbing his favorite pillow that he was lying on as well as his favorite blanket.

In an instant, you had snatched them and ran off with them, seeking refuge in your room.

You had barely gotten your door locked when you heard Belphie trying to get into your room.

“Y/N, open the door,” Belphie said, as calmly as he could, but he was already mad.

“You need to do your homework, Belphie,” you replied.

“Just give me my blanket and pillow back,” he responded.

“After you finish your homework,” you reiterated, internally sighing at the situation. You didn’t want to act like his parent and you silently cursed Lucifer for asking you to do this in the first place.

“Ugh, you’re being so annoying!” Belphie snapped, but you were expecting some backlash about this situation.

“You’ll be thanking me later when you don’t have to deal with Lucifer,” you stated and you heard him let out another frustrated sigh.

“This is exactly why I hate humans,” Belphie stated, more to himself than anything, but you heard it loud and clear.

His eyes widened slightly when you opened the door to your bedroom, a look of hurt on your face.

He opened his mouth to take it back but he was cut off by you roughly shoving the blanket and pillow into him before slamming the door in his face and locking it again.

Belphie knew that he went too far so he decided to give you some time to cool off.

The next time he saw you he promised himself he would make it up to you.

But when he saw you next, you refused to look at Belphie, let alone talk to him. And that made Belpie annoyed all over again.

“You’re being childish,” he told you, only furthering your anger towards him.

“Says the one who can’t even be responsible and do their homework without someone breathing down their neck!” you snapped back.

The two of you didn’t talk after that for a long time - too long in the brothers’ opinions.

They knew that you and Belphie were too stubborn to talk to each other on your accord, so they decided to take things into their own hands.

You were sitting on your bed reading when suddenly the door to your bedroom burst open.

You looked up to see Belphie being shoved inside against his will by Beel before he shut the door, making sure to stand guard so Belphie couldn’t leave.

Belphie had a small pout on his face that, despite still being mad at him, you thought looked adorable.

He let out a small sigh, avoiding all eye contact as he did his best to come up with a way to get out of this situation.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, but you both knew it was pointless. Neither of you were leaving until you talked to each other.

Belphie was the master at winning arguments, but just this once, he asked himself what the point of it was. He cared about you way more than winning the argument.

“You know I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but on you as he spoke.

Your eyes immediately went to him. Was that his version of an apology?

“I was only trying to help you, Belphie,” you explained and he gave you a defeated look.

“I know,” he replied. That’s why this whole argument is pointless.

Belphie moved over to your bed now and sat down next to you, the two of you making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I caught up on all my studies,” he added and you let out a breath of relief. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

You were the first to reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. You stared at your intertwined fingers before softly saying, “I missed you.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, all feelings of the fight disappearing. He was just happy to be in your presence again.

Belphie moved quickly, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you down into the bed.

“Bel-!” you shouted in surprise but you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips.

You were laying chest to chest, his face only inches from yours, his arms keeping you there.

“If they hear us talking, they’ll come in; and, I’d rather not be interrupted for a while,” Belphie told you with a sly smirk before placing his lips on yours.

You immediately returned the kiss, a smile forming at the feeling.

No matter what you or Belphie said in the heat of the moment, you knew that your love for each other would never change.

[holyblonded]

beggin’ | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you beg alexia for a dog but she doesn’t believe your responsible enough

warnings: dog slander, hurt animal

notes: eagles won and i have been on a high 😭 but classes are canceled this week cause of the snow so enjoy

“So you hate me? Because that’s all I’m hearing,” you argued, trailing after Alexia as the two of you walked into the weight room.

The gym was already buzzing with activity—Aitana and Patri doing resistance band workouts, Mapi and Ingrid spotting each other on the bench press, and Vicky and Ona lazily stretching while gossiping about God knows what. You, however, were too focused on your current battle.

Alexia exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already exhausted. “Estrelleta, no vuelvas a decir eso. Te quiero con todo mi corazón, pero no. (don’t say that again. i love you with all my heart, but no)”

The finality in her voice crushed your hopes… Again.

With a defeated sigh, you dramatically slid yourself down the nearest wall like your world had just ended. Ona and Vicky immediately burst into laughter at your theatrics.

“Oh no, she’s gonna start monologuing,” Vicky teased.

“Tragic,” Ona added, shaking her head.

Before you could hit full sulking mode, a tattooed hand appeared in front of your face. Lucy.

“Come on, drama queen,” she said, effortlessly yanking you off the floor and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Still trying to convince La Reina?”

“She’s immune to my suffering,” you mumbled, allowing yourself to be guided toward the treadmill.

“What is it now?” Lucy asked, already looking amused.

“The puppy,” Ona answered for you, smirking. “She’s been denied again.”

Lucy clicked her tongue. “Rough.”

“Right?” You sighed as you climbed onto the treadmill, setting it to the slowest possible speed. “She doesn’t understand how much this means to me.”

“I understand perfectly,” Alexia called out from across the room without even looking at you. “I also understand that I do not need a dog destroying my apartment.”

“But I’d train it so well!” You protested, turning dramatically in her direction, which nearly sent you stumbling off the treadmill. Lucy had to grab your arm to keep you upright.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucy chuckled. “You can barely train yourself.”

Vicky and Ona snickered from their mats.

“Et tu, Brute?” You gasped at Lucy’s betrayal.

“I’m just saying, if Alexia says no, you’re not winning that battle,” Lucy shrugged. “She’s got the stubborn gene.”

“No one’s ever won an argument against her,” Ona added.

“Except Irene,” Vicky pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s because Irene fights dirty,” Lucy laughed.

You crossed your arms, still pouting. “I refuse to give up. She can’t resist me forever.”

Alexia, now stretching with Aitana, turned to glance at you. “Try me.”

The weight room erupted with laughter, and even you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t giving up, though. One way or another, you were getting that puppy.

The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on the coffee table, giving the illusion of an intimate, important gathering. Alexia and Olga sat on the couch, arms crossed, faces unreadable, as you stood in front of them, remote in hand, ready to present your magnum opus.

A massive title slide was projected onto the TV screen:

“WHY I, ESTRELLITA, DESERVE A DOG (AND WHY YOU SHOULD LET ME HAVE ONE)”

You cleared your throat dramatically. “Ladies and, well, just ladies—thank you for coming tonight. I know you’re busy, Alexia with captaining, Olga with being very sexy, but this is a matter of utmost importance.”

Olga smirked, clearly enjoying herself. Alexia, on the other hand, was already rubbing her temples. Not a great start, but you pressed on.

“Slide one, please.”

You clicked the remote, and the next slide popped up. “REASONS I NEED A DOG” was written in bold letters, accompanied by an image of the saddest, most heartbroken puppy you could find on Google.

“Point one,” you began, pacing like a lawyer in a high-stakes courtroom drama. “Companionship. As a hardworking footballer and occasional agent of chaos, I deal with immense stress. A dog will provide me with emotional support, cuddles, and, most importantly, unconditional love.”

“You literally live with us,” Alexia interrupted.

“Exactly,” you shot back. “And yet, somehow, I still feel alone.”

“Wow,” Olga muttered, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“Moving on,” you said quickly, clicking to the next slide.

This one had a picture of you edited into a stock image of someone running with a golden retriever. “EXERCISE AND FITNESS!”

“A dog will encourage me to stay active outside of training! Long walks, jogs, and playful activities will not only keep me fit but also keep me in peak condition for Barça. You both want me in peak condition, don’t you?”

“Or,” Alexia said, unimpressed, “you could just… go on a run.”

“Who am I, Eliud Kipchoge? No. I need a motivator.”

Alexia sighed. Olga, to your delight, nodded thoughtfully. “She makes a good point, Ale. Running with a dog is more fun.”

You gasped dramatically. “Thank you, my ally!”

“Don’t call her that,” Alexia warned.

Next slide.

“RESPONSIBILITY & MATURITY”

“With a dog, I will develop a deeper sense of responsibility,” you declared proudly. “I will wake up early to feed it, I will train it, I will clean up after it—“

Alexia held up a hand. “You literally leave your socks in the living room for days.”

“That’s different,” you argued. “A dog is a living being. My socks are… just socks.”

“You also ‘forget’ to take to take the trash out,” Alexia finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, but in my defense, the trash doesn’t wag its tail and look at me with big, adorable eyes when it wants to go outside,” you shot back, clicking to the next slide before she could counter.

This one was titled “LOOK AT THESE DOGS AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT ONE” and featured an entire collage of the cutest, most heart-melting puppy pictures you could find.

Olga audibly gasped. Alexia, despite her best efforts, blinked a few too many times at a particularly fluffy golden retriever puppy in the center.

“You like that one, don’t you?” you asked smugly, pointing at the screen.

“No,” Alexia said quickly, looking away.

“She totally does,” Olga whispered, nudging her.

“Fine,” Alexia huffed. “Yes, it’s cute. But cuteness is not a reason to adopt an animal!”

“That is literally the best reason to adopt an animal!” you argued.

Alexia groaned and slumped back into the couch. Olga, however, was still staring at the pictures, and you knew you had her right where you wanted her.

Click. Next slide.

“POSSIBLE NAMES FOR OUR FUTURE DOG”

“What do you mean ‘our’ future dog?” Alexia interrupted, sitting up again.

“Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue!” you said quickly. “Now, first name option: Messi.”

“Absolutely not,” Alexia deadpanned.

“Fine, fine. Option two: Little Estrella, or Estrellita Junior.”

“Pass,” Olga snorted.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “Final suggestion: Captain Paws or Captain Culer.”

Olga nodded her voice breaking the silence. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” you beamed.

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “This is ridiculous.”

Click.

The final slide appeared, in all its dramatic glory: “WHY YOU SHOULD SAY YES – AN EMOTIONAL APPEAL” with a giant photo of you, making your best sad, pleading puppy eyes.

You turned to them, arms spread. “In conclusion, I am but a simple footballer, yearning for the love of a small, fluffy creature. I ask for nothing—except this one thing, this one chance at happiness. Will you grant it?”

Silence stretched in the room. You held your breath.

Olga exhaled, turning to Alexia. “You know, I think she’s really thought this through—”

“Don’t encourage her,” Alexia muttered.

“Alexia,” you said, your voice trembling dramatically, “are you really going to stand in the way of my happiness? My growth? My dreams?”

Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, then finally groaned in defeat. “If—IF—we get a dog, it’s on you. You feed it. You walk it. You clean up after it. And the first time you forget, it’s my dog. Understood?”

Your eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m considering it,” Alexia sighed.

You let out an ear-splitting cheer, immediately lunging at her and wrapping her in a suffocating hug.

“Best decision of your life, Cap!”

“I already regret it,” Alexia muttered, but you could see the tiniest, smallest smile on her lips.

Olga clapped, laughing. “Well, I guess we’re getting a dog.”

You turned, grinning mischievously. “Now, about getting two—”

“Don’t push it,” Alexia warned.

The moment the final whistle blew, you sprinted over to Alexia like a woman on a mission. Your captain barely had time to process what was happening before you clung to her arm like a koala, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Did you see? Did you see?” you exclaimed, practically vibrating with energy.

“I saw that we won and you scored a goal,” Alexia responded dryly, trying (and failing) to shake you off.

“Not that! That!” You pointed wildly into the stands, where a fan was proudly holding up a neon pink sign that read in massive, glittery letters: “LET ESTRELLA GET A DOG!”

Alexia stared at it, then slowly turned to look at you.

“You didn’t,” she said.

“Oh, but I did,” you grinned. “Posted it on my story this morning. The people have spoken, Ale. The movement has begun.”

“Estrelleta.” Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling like she was gathering the last ounce of patience left in her body.

Aitana jogged over, took one look at the sign, and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re actually rallying the fans?”

“Absolutely,” you said proudly. “Strength in numbers.”

Alexia rubbed her temples like she was fighting off a migraine. “You are unbelievable.”

“But lovable,” you shot back.

“That is debatable,” she muttered, but you could see the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

As you all made your way off the pitch, you continued your relentless campaign.

“You know, Ale, dogs are great stress relievers,” you pointed out. “And I know how much stress you have. Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a happy little fluffball that loves you unconditionally?”

“I already have you for that,” she deadpanned.

“Okay, rude,” you huffed. “But imagine—just imagine—a tiny puppy running towards you after a long day. Tail wagging. Ears flopping. Looking up at you with those big, round eyes—”

“You are not winning me over with emotional manipulation,” Alexia interrupted, stepping into the tunnel.

“Okay, but what if I told you I already have a list of shelters we can visit?”

“Of course you do,” she sighed.

Back in the locker room, you continued your noble mission. Even while changing out of your kit, you pestered her.

“Alexia, picture this: me, walking a dog in our neighborhood. Think of the aesthetic.”

“Alexia, a dog would be great company when you’re watching game footage.”

“Alexia, if we get a golden retriever, we could name it Oro! Like gold! Get it?”

“Alexia, please—”

“Y/n,” Alexia finally cut you off, slamming her locker shut. “I love you. But if you mention a dog one more time today, I will personally call Nike and have them cancel your entire cleat line.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest like she had just stabbed you. “I thought you cared about my happiness!”

“I do. Which is why I am going to shower in peace now, without hearing the word ‘dog’ for the next ten minutes,” she said, pointing at you warningly before walking off.

You pouted, watching her go.

Ona and Vicky, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, exchanged amused glances.

“You’re really not giving up on this, huh?” Vicky asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said with determination. “She’ll cave. She always does.”

Ona grinned. “I give it a week.”

“Ale will last at least two,” Vicky countered.

You smirked. “She’ll break in five days. Maximum.”

And with that, you pulled out your phone and posted another story: “THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES. #LetEstrellaGetADog”—complete with a picture of the fan sign from the stands.

Because if Alexia thought this battle was over, she had another thing coming.

The storm outside was relentless, rain lashing against the windows as thunder rumbled through the streets of Barcelona. The second you slipped through the front door, you knew you were in trouble.

You weren’t exactly subtle about it.

For one, you were soaked—dripping water all over the floor like some stray cat who’d just climbed out of a sewer. Your shoes squelched with every step as you walked to the stairs, and to make matters worse, you were gripping the straps of your suspiciously bulky backpack like your life depended on it.

“Estrelleta.”

You froze mid-step, eyes darting toward the living room.

Alexia stood there, arms crossed, her expression radiating ‘I am fed up with everything what have you done.’ Behind her, Olga was peeking over the couch, squinting like she was a detective in a crime drama.

“Uh… hey,” you tried, flashing a completely innocent smile.

Alexia’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing!” You answered too quickly.

Olga sat up straighter. “Then why do you look like you just robbed a bank?”

“I—what? That’s crazy!” You let out a nervous laugh, gripping the straps even tighter. “Can’t a person come home after a refreshing walk in the rain without being accused of high-level felonies?”

“In a thunderstorm?” Alexia deadpanned.

“…Hydration is important?”

Alexia didn’t even blink.

You took a careful step backward toward the stairs. “Anyway! I am so tired. I’m just gonna go upstairs—”

“Give me the bag.”

“Ale, let’s be rational about this—”

Alexia was already walking toward you, and before you could flee for your life, she snatched the zipper and yanked it open.

Immediately, a tiny, miserable whimper came from inside. Olga gasped as Alexia’s soul left her body.

Very, very slowly, you reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny, soaked, shivering puppy.

The little Presa Canario pup blinked up at them with big, glossy eyes, looking like the saddest little gremlin on the planet. One of his tiny paws was wrapped in a bandage, and his whole body trembled as he let out a soft, tragic little huff.

Olga? Immediate meltdown.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing his tiny face. “HE’S A BABY!”

Alexia on the other hand… immediate crisis.

“Estrelleta.”

“Before you say anything.” you blurted, clutching the puppy to your chest like a newborn child, “he was alone in the rain, Ale! He was limping, and he looked so scared, and I couldn’t just leave him!”

Olga was already cooing at the puppy, rubbing his ears. “Look at his little nose!”

“Look at his little future as a massive security risk,” Alexia countered, rubbing her temples. “Do you realize how big Presa Canarios get?”

“Big enough to protect our home!” you argued immediately. “It’s like free security! We won’t need an alarm system anymore!”

“You don’t even lock the front door half the time.”

“Because I’m trusting!”

“Because you’re an easy target for burglars.”

The puppy, sensing tension, let out a tiny, heartbreaking sneeze and rested his head on your arm like some kind of Oscar-winning performance in sadness.

Olga audibly gasped. “Ale, LOOK AT HIM. He’s one of us now!”

Alexia sighed like a parent catching their kid trying to sneak dessert before dinner. The puppy lifted his injured little paw like he was saying ‘help me, ma’am.’

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “I hate both of you.”

“So that’s a yes?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s a ‘we’re going to the vet first thing in the morning’,” Alexia muttered. “Then we’re going to the pet store, because we don’t have a single thing for a dog in this house.”

You and Olga erupted into cheers, bouncing the puppy happily between you.

“Thank you, Ale!” you beamed. “You won’t regret this!”

“I already do,” Alexia muttered, but her lips were twitching upward anyway.

[princesssarahblog]

escape from rafe - one shot - smut!

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!reader

when jj gives sarah the letter from "vlad", he runs into rafe again and he starts running away from cameron and ends up running into his gorgeous girlfriend

warnin: reader in dress! (imagine any dress you want), impatient!jj, pussy eating, overstim, language

author notes: I don't remember this episode and phrases a little, but it's not important here. only the scene between jj and the reader is important. have a nice reading!

jj winks at sarah as he hands her the letter from vlad and immediately starts to leave, but he is immediately grabbed and it was.. rafe. rafe fucking cameron. jj sometimes thinks that the rich kook has some kind of magnet for him, they run into each other too often lately and jj definitely doesn't like it

"having a good time?" rafe says with a grin, holding his hands on the blond's and looking down at him.

"yeah, it'll be even better without you," jj said through gritted teeth, smiling "cutely" and removing cameron's hands from his arms.

and then another chase began, jj ran wherever his eyes looked and even managed to drink a little alcohol. he ran so fast that he didn't notice how he crashed into someone, jj instinctively placed hands on into the arms of the human he had bumped into and slowly looked up, it was you.

and you looked simply stunning, in a beautiful dress that perfectly emphasized your body. the blond couldn't take his eyes off you. jj's hands squeezed your hands a little tighter but not so much that it bothered you, you felt his strong hands on your softer and neater girlish hands, whistling.

"wow..what a gorgeous kitty i almost knocked over" jj smirked pulling you towards him and slowly pressing his lips to yours pulling you into a passionate kiss. he noticed the open door and immediately pushed you into the room, it turned out to be just a closet

jj breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he presses his back against the closet door, sliding it shut with you still in his arms. his heart races, partly from the chase and partly from the electrifying kiss. he glances down at you, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips.

"jj don't even think about it, not here." you said, trying to be strict. It was all bad.. he wanted sex here and now. you was mad at your mom for listening to her and wearing that dress

jj ignores yours protests, his gaze locked on your stunning figure. he sets you down gently, then pulls you into another passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your curves as he tries to calm his racing heart.

"shh, just for a minute, okay?"

you struggles against the kiss, but jj's desperation and the adrenaline from the chase proves too much. you finds yourself melting into his embrace, your hands tangling in his hair as you returns the kiss. you knows you shouldn't, but jj always had a way of making you weak in the knees.

jj smirks against your lips, knowing he's getting exactly what he wanted. his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer.

"see? even when you're mad at me, you still can't resist me..."

he whispers huskily, his hands trailing down your sides.

he slowly lowers himself down, pushing up your dress to expose your thighs. he spreads your legs slightly, careful not to crease your dress. he looks up at you, making sure you're not pushing him away. jj knows you gets self-conscious about quickies, especially when you looks this good.

jj leans in, pressing soft kisses along your inner thigh, his hands gently caressing your skin. he looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire and affection.

"you look so fucking beautiful, baby.. I can't help myself around you. just let me taste you real quick, okay?"

you bites your lip, unable to resist jj's persuasive touches and words. you glances nervously towards the closet door, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment. yet the heat building between your legs overrides your logical concerns. you nods hesitantly, your fingers threading through jj's hair.

with your's permission, jj buries his face between your thighs, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy through your lace panties. he sucks gently on the fabric, his fingers kneading your thighs as he tries to be quiet, not wanting to draw attention to their clandestine moment.

the sound of rafe and other kooks searching the house grows louder, their voices drifting closer to the closet. jj knows he needs to hurry if he wants to finish without getting caught. he hooks his fingers under the elastic of your's panties and pulls them to the side, revealing your glistening pussy.

his tongue darts out, finally tasting your properly. he focuses on her clit, circles it with deliberate precision while looking up at your face. even in the dim closet light, he can see your expression - eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, enjoying each careful lick. "shh.."

your's breath hitches as jj's skilled tongue finds your most sensitive spot. you bites your lip harder to stifle a moan, your hips shifting slightly to press yourself more firmly against his mouth. the risk of being caught only heightens your arousal.

"jj.. hurry.."

jj smirkingly obliges, knowing how much faster he can make your come when he focuses. his tongue thrusts inside you, then back up to swirl around your clit. he adds two fingers, pumping them in and out rapidly while his tongue continues its assault. he knows exactly what you likes.

your's breathing grows shallower, your body tensing as you gets closer to the edge. jj can feel your trembling above him, knows you're about to break. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he doubles his efforts.

with one final, intense lick, your's body seizes up, a silent scream of pleasure contorting your face as you comes hard against jj's mouth. he laps up your juices eagerly, his fingers still pumping inside you until you're fully spent. "fuck.. jj.." you whispers, your legs shaking.

jj gives your pussy one last, gentle kiss before straightening up and pulling your panties back into place. he stands, pressing a finger to his lips in a'shh' gesture before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "I think we're clear... for now."

"let me kiss you.." you whispers very quietly, hugging him around the neck with both hands and pulling him into a passionate kiss and feeling yourself on his lips. lots of juices and sperm. and all of it is yours.

you moans softly into jj's mouth, tasting yourself mixed with remnants of his sperm from earlier. you loves that your bodies are practically fused together this way - one kiss can taste like a mix of them both. you pulls back slightly to lick his jaw, collecting more of their combined fluids.

jj chuckles quietly, amused by your's enthusiasm for tasting you're both intimate mingling. he tilts his head, offering you're better access to clean his jaw with playful obedience. once you're satisfied, he captures your lips again, kissing your deeply, languidly.

your kiss becomes more intense, tongues entwining as they silently express their passion. the sound of rafe's voice fades - they've moved away from the closet. jj's hands slide down to grip your ass firmly, pressing their bodies together. "miss me already?"

"I miss you even when you're around.." you laughed at your own words, pressing your forehead to his, enjoying the moment. at least there were some quiet moments in the pogues lives.. and they both appreciated them

[ailelie]

I'll have to consider a Google break-up. But this reminds me how I did just go through separation with Microsoft 365.

My very first step was listing out all the places where I use Microsoft and thinking through what my requirements were for replacing them. OneDrive, for the longest time, was my sticking point. This program has saved me twice now when I've had computer issues. I needed something that would keep copies of my files in the cloud, connect with multiple folders, sync instantly, and connect with my phone. I also wanted to pay no more than I was already paying for Microsoft 365. Finally, it had to be easy to use.

For the Office Suite, I just needed something that could open and edit my Microsoft files and have similar features. I rarely use Word/Excel/etc outside of work, though that may change if I do breakup with Google (I use Google Sheets for myriad things).

OneDrive

To replace the online drive and sync, I've switched to pCloud. It isn't free, though. It costs $50-60/year for 500GB (and about a $100 for 2T).

Steps for switching:

Make sure you have downloaded everything from OneDrive to your computer. Most of your files actually live in the cloud and you'll lose access to them when you uninstall OneDrive (note: they'll still be online).

Move all of your files into your User directory or somewhere else on your computer that isn't your OneDrive folder. (Learn from my mistakes...)

Uninstall OneDrive.

Go through your files and delete all of your OneDrive folders.

Download and install pCloud and follow their directions.

(Note: pCloud does have a OneDrive import feature, but I did not use that and I do not know how well it supports uninstalling OneDrive afterward.)

I also have pCloud on my phone now. I don't know if I just have rosy glasses on, but it feels nicer than the OneDrive app.

(Note: I do not rec NextCloud. I tried it and was met with nothing but pure frustration. Plus, for basic sync, I learned I had to download another program/extension, but then it was super unclear on how to install that extra bit and etc etc etc.)

ETA: OneDrive will still exist in some pretty critical default filepaths (e.g., your desktop folder). I followed this to fix it in my registry.

Office Suite

I've downloaded LibreOffice (free!)for this. If your Calc is an utter glacier when you open it, look up how to check the "Force Skia software rendering" box. That fixed the issue for me.

If you prefer ribbons over menus, there is a view option for that, too.

I am also currently trialing Typora, which costs $15 and is beautiful. It is a Markdown editor in which your Markdown is instantly rendered.

Other Microsoft Apps

I don't tend to use other Microsoft apps much outside of work. If I used a desktop email client, I'd probably go back to Thunderbird, which I used back in college.

As for OneNote, I'm not sure. Obsidian, which I use for my worldbook for my current story, is fantastic, but I've not tried to have different projects on it at once.

For teams, there's Slack and Discord. For the Sharepoint side of teams, maybe Box, Basecamp, or Confluence? I've not really looked into this because I don't use Teams in my non-work life and there is a 0% chance my workplace transitions away from Teams and Sharepoint anytime soon.

For Notepad, Notepad++ has always been one of the first programs I download to new computers. It is stellar.

For other apps, I'm already using alternatives (e.g., VLC Media Player, Firefox, WonderShare) or they aren't programs I even knew existed (e.g., Journal?, Family?). A few, though, just feel like system tools (e.g., Snipping Tool, Calculator).

Of course, there is the Linux of it all.

I have considered linux before. I have even tried linux (Ubuntu) before.

Most of what I use these days will work with Linux, with one major and rather important-to-me exception: Scrivener.

I am yet to find a single other application I like half as well as Scrivener.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day... 💔 

Ready to break up with Google?

So are we!

We’ve rounded up a bunch of privacy-centric alternatives for everything Google.

Check out the full list over on the blog!

- The Ellipsus Team xo

[bonus-links]

Ruins pt 16 please 🥺

OUGH YEAH THIS ONE

I wanted to give Loft a chance to explain a little bit of his ideology around what being the capital H Hero means to him. Despite all his misgivings about having his life orchestrated for this purpose, he 100% would do it all again, no questions asked. He firmly believes at this point that being the Hero and wielding the master sword is still a blessing. I also think from his perspective, if it really is true that Demise is going to curse this land forever, it's imperative that there's always a Hero willing to take up the mantle. Slate doesn't want the title, but to Loft he's already doing the action, and that makes him worthy of the sword. They're, like. fundamentally disagreeing on what being "the Hero" even means.

Also, having Fi as a companion was really important to him. I think it brought him some comfort to think that future heroes would have that too. To find out that they didn't, and that one even 'rejected' her entirely really upsets him.

also, if you don't actually need the sword to defeat the great evil, the whole thing kind of falls apart, right? Remember, nearly Loft's ENTIRE journey revolved around forging the sword for this exact purpose. What did he do all that for, if you don't need it in the end?

as a sidenote, slate definitely has more than '6 hearts' worth of health lol, not that I'm taking that literally. this was just kind of visual representation of the sword sapping his strength. I think it's interesting that while this isn't the only game that locks you out of pulling the sword until you're strong enough, it is to my knowledge the only game that hurts you for trying if you're not.

Slate's first champion sighting! Whether or not Champion is trying to stop him here or finally letting the sword go is up for interpretation, but if you ask me it's kind of both. Also, for the record, only Slate saw him.

bro is fucking flabbergasted. he 100% did not expect to actually pull the sword. world view altered. Slate genuinely did try multiple times, before ultimately resorting to the nuclear option of facing Ganon without it. He went into the fight with the expectation that he would probably fail and die. To pull it now, after everything is said and done is,,,,frustrating to him. To severely understate it.

the koroks all cheering with loft 😭

i think this is my favorite slate I have ever drawn.

I think Loft had definitely hoped for a little bit more of a reunion with Fi here. This chime is the only indication she's there, and even then he's not sure.

[wholoveseggs]

heyyyyy girllll, ik that you already wrote a series about a professor and student, but could you pleaseeeee make a one shot with a virgin reader🥹🥹🥹

Angel

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!vampire!Reader} Newly turned and overwhelmed, one hunger refuses to be ignored. You need guidance, and who better to teach you than Elijah Mikaelson?

♡♡ You didn't specify what kind of teacher.... so I took some creative libertiessss (DON'T BANG YOUR TEACHERS, OKAY?? NOT A WISE THING TO DO(EXCEPT IF THEY ARE A MIKAELSON))~ ♡♡

5k words {whoops} - Warnings: smuutttt, vampire!reader, virgin!reader, first time, a brief Hayley cameo, blood drinking, riding, reader knows what she wants, Elijah talking you through it, teaching, oral sex (f!receiving), feeding during sex, possessive but tender Elijah && a pet name...

"So, you're just going to waltz in and ask him?" Hayley asked, shocked at how blunt you were being.

"Well, yeah," you replied nonchalantly. "How else am I supposed to do it?"

"I don't know," she said, "maybe try being more subtle?"

Hayley looked at you like you'd lost your mind, but you just shrugged, unbothered. The constant hum of your heightened emotions had been driving you insane for days. Hunger, anger, lust. Mostly lust. And no matter how much you tried to control it, you couldn’t shake the gnawing, primal need clawing at you from the inside out.

"Subtlety is overrated," you said, crossing your arms. "I don’t think Elijah would appreciate me batting my lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. He values directness."

"Yeah, but there's direct, and then there's direct," Hayley shot back, looking equally horrified and intrigued. "I mean, do you even know if he's into you?"

You paused, considering. Elijah was your mentor; your teacher when it came to all things vampire. He was always so composed, so controlled, but there was something in the way he looked at you. He was always assessing, always holding himself back. You'd caught him staring once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. And there was that one time he murmured something in that low, velvety voice of his about lust being a difficult thing for new vampires to control…

"I think he is," you said simply.

"Okay, but what if he says no?" Hayley pressed.

You smirked, enjoying her mild jealousy. "Then I’ll go take an ice bath and reevaluate my choices."

Hayley groaned, rubbing her temples. "This is the most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard. And I've lived in this house with Klaus."

"Wish me luck," you said with a wink before striding down the hall toward Elijah’s study.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stopped outside his door, suddenly hyper aware of how fast your heart was racing. Vampire senses made everything feel more. More intense, more overwhelming. But there was no turning back now. You wanted this. No. You needed this.

Taking a breath, you knocked once before pushing the door open.

Elijah sat at his desk, a glass of bourbon in one hand, an old book in the other. He barely glanced up as he said, “I take it this is a social visit?”

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “No, it’s not... well... actually...”

Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, curiosity flickering across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You exhaled sharply and walked toward him, each step deliberate. "I want you to teach me something new... Something important."

His brow arched. "What is it that you think you're lacking in your education?"

You stopped in front of his desk, trying not to focus on the way his shirt clung to his toned chest. "I don't need any more history lessons, or lectures on self-control. I know all of that."

"Oh really? You've been a vampire for less than a month, and already you know everything I could possibly teach you?" he asked, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not everything," you said, leaning forward to brace yourself on his desk. "I still have lots to learn and there's one lesson I'm hoping you can teach me, and I'd like you to start right now."

His eyes narrowed, darting to your lips for a brief moment before snapping back to yours. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

You swallowed, nerves clashing with the hunger and lust burning inside you. Then, with as much confidence as you could muster, you blurted it out.

"I want you to teach me how to have sex."

For the first time since you had met him, Elijah Mikaelson actually looked stunned. The glass in his hand halted halfway to his lips, eyes widening fractionally before his expression resumed its usual cool facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing as you replayed the words in your head, suddenly embarrassed. But no, you had decided, you would be direct.

"Before I was turned... I, uh, I didn't get a chance to, you know, lose my virginity. So, I don't know what I'm doing... And I'm worried if I just pick up a random guy, I might kill him..." You spoke quickly, already regretting opening your mouth. What was wrong with you?

"Are you propositioning me, my dear?"

Something like warm amusement flickered in his eyes, and you relaxed a little, straightening. You expected pity, the way Hayley had looked at you. Judgment. Anything but the glint in Elijah's eyes as they slowly raked down your body, gaze sharpening with interest as it darkened.

A giddy flutter rose in your chest, and you licked your lips.

"Yes."

Silence fell over the room as Elijah set his drink down and stood, walking slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. When he finally stopped, his chest was nearly brushing yours, the proximity making your head spin.

"Tell me, why have you chosen me for this particular lesson?" he murmured, fingers reaching up to trace the line of your jaw.

A jolt of heat ran through you, and you tried to remember how to speak. "Well, you're, uh, a noble gentleman... I trust you."

He chuckled. "I try my best. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Um..." You trailed off, his fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Be honest, angel,"

"Because..." you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Angel? He just called you angel.

"Because... I think about you, all the time," you admitted. "Ever since I became a vampire. It's like every feeling is dialed up to eleven. Except my desire. It's a thousand times worse than that, and I can't make it stop. It's torture. And I know it's inappropriate, but..."

"It's not," Elijah interjected, his fingers sliding down the length of your throat. "We can't help what we want, can we?"

You shook your head.

"What is it that you want, my little vampire?"

You swallowed, your eyes flickering to his lips. "I want to kiss you."

His lips curved into a smirk, and then his mouth was on yours, firm but gentle. His lips moved slowly, expertly, and your entire body flooded with warmth, your legs suddenly unsteady. He felt so good. Smelled so good.

Your arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. You had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. This was an out-of-body experience, like the whole world was melting away and there was only the two of you.

He moved away far too soon, and a small sound of protest left your lips.

"So eager," he said, tipping your chin up to look at him. "Is that all you want? A kiss?"

You shook your head, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping. "No."

He smiled, his hands moving down your waist to your hips, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him. "Our bodies have an enhanced awareness of what they want, what they need." He paused, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat, then, so quietly it was almost inaudible,  "Humans have sex drives, but ours..."

"Are stronger," you finished in a raspy voice. "More Intense."

Elijah hummed. "Very."

"So, you'll teach me then?"

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to capture your lips in another slow, deep kiss. "Teaching isn't the word I would use,"

A blush spread from your chest to your cheeks. You nodded, wanting more than anything for him to tumble you into bed and show you all the things his thousand years had taught him. He was patient, though, and the way he was kissing you now was driving you mad.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you let out a soft gasp. Before you could blink, you were in his bedroom, him pressing your back into the mattress, his hands everywhere. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin.Your hands curling into his chest, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't rip my shirt," he murmured against your neck, and you giggled.

"Sorry,"

"You will be," he said, pulling back to give you a dark smile.

A thrill of anticipation ran through you, and you pushed him onto his back, climbing onto his lap, the heat between your legs throbbing with need. Your lips crashed together again, more frantic this time, more desperate. Teeth clashed, biting, nibbling, sucking. All the while, a heady ache grew between your thighs, and when he cupped your ass, pulling your hips flush against his, you could feel his own primal need straining against his trousers.

You moaned into his mouth, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing more. "Please, Elijah," you murmured, sighing at the soft kisses he began to trail along your throat. "I need you."

"Patience, angel,"

With a frustrated groan, you slumped against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded you. Aftershave, musk, something distinctly masculine and earthy. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Then you heard it, his blood, pumping steadily beneath his skin, calling to you. You wanted to sink your fangs into him, taste his hot blood coursing over your tongue.

You felt your vampire nature take over, veins protruding beneath your eyes, fangs extending. Instinct urged you forward, pressing soft kisses to his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, hunger gnawing inside your bones.

He chuckled at the gentle, kitten-like kisses you pressed to his neck, your fangs scratching his skin. He pulled your head away, urging your eyes to meet his as a glimmer of amusement danced in his. "So bloodthirsty,"

"C'mon, please." you whined, leaning in and kissing him deeply, trying to press your core against his bulge. You grunted, bucking your hips, starting a rhythm. Fuck he smelled so good, he felt so good, every fiber of your being yearning for his touch.

Your fangs brushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He hissed, kissing you harder. His fingers tightened against the back of your head as he angled your face to give himself more access. You mewled as your hands clung to his chest, feeling his cock stiff against your stomach was doing terrible things to you.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, his compulsion bringing you to a screeching halt. You whimpered, panting and needy. As his bloody lip healed, a single drop trickled down his chin, and you shivered, licking your lips as you followed the droplet's path with your eyes.

"Relax," he cooed, smirking as he wiped it away. "Don't you worry. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. But," he added in a darker tone, "only when I say."

Swallowing hard, you nodded, bracing your hands against his shoulders. "Okay,"

"Good girl,"

A rush of arousal shot through you at the praise, and a needy whine escaped your lips.

He smirked. "Oh, you like that? Being told what a good girl you are?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and his smirk widened. 

"Take your clothes off for me," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You quickly scrambled off his lap, flushed with heat as you stripped, pulling your dress over your head, watching Elijah watch you. His eyes tracked your every move, drinking you in as your bra came off. Then, with your shaky fingers, you hooked your thumbs under your panties, slowly peeling them down your thighs. Finally, you stood in front of him, naked, exposed, trembling, heart pounding in your ears.

"My, you're even lovelier than I'd imagined,"

You ached to feel him, craving more, more, more. A spark flashed in his gaze. You wanted him. Everything about this felt right. Every part of him wanted you too. His restraint was nothing but a mask, all for your benefit. You knew that once he lost his control, he would not be the patient and kind teacher you knew so well. Underneath that carefully crafted image was a beast, a creature of immense power, a force to be reckoned with.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes flitting up to his. A faint smirk played on his lips as his hand slid to your hip, dragging you closer. "Can't remember how to speak?"

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought.

"That's alright," he said, kissing his way down the side of your neck. “tell me if it gets too overwhelming,”

You nodded, inhaling sharply as your bare skin brushed his, your hands flat against his broad chest. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his tongue parted your lips. Something was happening to you, this unfamiliar feeling. You could tell something big was building inside, a need, and Elijah was unravelling it, unraveling you.

He chuckled against your lips as he cupped your face, slowly pulling back just enough to gaze at you with those deep, brown eyes of his. He took your hand and sat you down at the edge of the bed.

"Don't be shy," he whispered. "It's just me."

You gulped. Just Elijah. Sure. How reassuring.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, but as you looked at him, everything steadied. He took a step back, unbuttoning his collar slowly. You wanted him. You could barely stop yourself from reaching for his belt, your hunger overriding every thought and impulse. You mustered all the self-control Elijah had taught you, forcing yourself to sit still as your thighs clenched together, the urge to relieve yourself building and building.

Elijah tilted his head, enjoying how desperate you were becoming, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his shirt came undone. He tossed the article of clothing on the ground.

Your eyes drifted over his bare chest, his nice arms and toned torso. A breath escaped you when your eyes moved down to see the defined outline of his cock against the material of his slacks. He was big, so big, so thick, so—

Your face went hot. A jolt of reality hitting you, everything felt so much, all at once. The hunger for his touch, for his taste. The way he smelled so fucking good. Everything was amplified, your every sense alive and thrumming. You bit your lip and watched as his slacks hit the ground and he stepped out of them, your mouth practically salivating.

Elijah was fucking stunning, and all yours.

He smiled and placed one of his knees on the edge of the bed. The movement made it bounce ever so slightly, and your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but the only sound you could manage was a squeak.

He reached for you, pulling you close and capturing your lips in his again. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to surrendered to him, letting yourself feel him, really feel him.

"This is going to feel very intense for you," he murmured in the small space between your mouths, "your emotions and needs heightened. All your senses are in overdrive."

A sigh left you as you opened your eyes again to meet his, dark and full of promises you never dreamed of before. His eyes, they made you tremble, they were so warm, so intense. And when they dropped to your mouth, the heat pooling between your thighs intensified tenfold.

"Don't feed until I say so, you understand?" He pulled back slightly, tilting his head and giving you a warning look, making sure he had your complete attention.

You swallowed and nodded. "I won't,"

"Good girl," he hummed before dipping down to kiss your lips.

His kiss was more possessive, his touch more demanding. Elijah pushed you back into the bed, your hair sprawling around you as he kissed you senseless. His lips left yours and kissed down your jawline, down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. You moaned when you felt his hot, wet mouth close around your nipple, your body thrumming when he nipped your flesh between his teeth, giving the other the same treatment.

The throbbing was intense and so damn good. His mouth was magic as he kissed a path down your stomach, making you feel like your entire being was ablaze, your desire burning deep. You writhed, his lips curling into a smile against your skin. He could probably hear how hard your heart was pounding. He was driving you mad with need.

"Please, Elijah," you breathed, squirming beneath him as his mouth continued to work over you, down your abdomen.

A deep, husky chuckle rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, teasing, tantalizing you with each featherlight kiss. Your breathing picked up, his mouth so close to where you wanted him. Both of your hands tangled in his dark hair, nerves and anticipation waring in your mind.

His hands came up, parting your knees slowly. He hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, widening his tongue and lapping you from your core to your clit, giving the tiny bud a teasing swirl of his tongue. The moan you let out was low and full of lust, a kind of lust you'd never felt before. Magnified, overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Relax, angel," His lips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each word, making your heart jump to your throat, making it almost hard to breathe.

Your hips rolled forward, pushing you against his lips, seeking more pressure, more friction. You felt so wanton, so desperate, so needy. You felt him smile against your core as his mouth engulfed you, his tongue swirling and sucking as he slowly pressed his middle finger inside you.

Your whole body stiffened and clenched around him as your mouth fell open. A string of low and soft curses fell from your lips, and your back arched against his bed as he pumped his finger in and out.

"Elijah, oh, oh fuck," your voice broke as another moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your clit. He curled his finger up inside you, sending a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

You tipped over the edge instantly, a white-hot heat engulfing you. You came in waves, your eyes clenched shut as your head fell back into the plush comforter beneath you. Elijah didn't stop his movements, working you through your climax and beyond until your hips stilled, and your breathing leveled out.

You felt so spent, but the ache inside you only deepened, intensified. You knew what you really needed to quench the fire, you knew that Elijah was the only one who could give you that. Your fangs itched, throbbing behind your gums, ready to come out when the moment was right.

Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and looking pleased with himself as he looked down at your naked form beneath him. You bit your lip, heat creeping into your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"That was..." you trailed off, unable to form the proper words to describe what the fuck you had just experienced.

Elijah grinned as he dipped back down and pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips. He pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. He kissed you so sweetly and softly, his hands resting on your lower back and his tongue slowly mapping out your mouth. You hummed into his kiss as you ran your fingers down his toned back, pulling him close.

"Now, my sweet angel," Elijah murmured, tilting your face up so his dark eyes locked with yours. "Are you ready for your final lesson?"

"Yes, Elijah," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. “Please,”

Elijah took one of your legs and wrapped it around him as his cock nudged your core. He was teasing you, moving the tip up and down your slit, making your entire body quiver as he kissed down your neck, finding a spot just behind your ear and nibbling gently.

He continued this pattern, your whines becoming needy and pathetic. Elijah's smirk pressed to your skin as his fangs nipped at your shoulder. Your head rolled back, giving him more room as he suckled on your pulse point.

"Such a good student for me, always listening, always eager." He said between nips. "Are you going to keep being my good girl?"

A strangled yes fell from your lips as Elijah nudged at your entrance. You whined and panted, trying to wiggle your hips and get him to sink his cock inside you, but he only chuckled and gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he nuzzled your neck.

"Let's not be impatient," he whispered, the low and possessive tone in his voice made a shiver roll down your spine. "There's so much I have yet to teach you, darling."

Elijah pressed his hips forward, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. He moved his face away from your neck as he pressed into you.

Your hands clung to him as you braced for it, this thing, this big, scary thing you never experienced, was suddenly happening. “It's okay," he hummed, "just breathe, angel,"

Your face felt warm as you looked at him and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, kissing your lips lovingly as his hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, sinking deeper.

His thrusts were slow, languid, intense. Elijah held himself up on his forearms, caging you as he looked down at you. Your mouth parted as your eyes locked with his. His slow and teasing rhythm had you trembling beneath him.

"My sweet little vampire," he purred, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "So good for me."

The words of praise were too much, the sight of Elijah above you, the feeling of him inside you. Your nails raked down his back, digging into his skin, needing him closer, wanting more, desperate to consume it all. 

A sudden vampiric urge took over, and you pushed on his chest with all your strength, he chuckled and sat back, letting you take the lead with a smirk on his face. In one swift move you were straddling his lap, sinking back down onto his cock and making both of you moan.

You were running on pure instinct as you began to move your hips, trying to find the right rhythm. He cupped your ass in his hands, his thumbs stroked your skin gently as you bounced up and down on his lap.

"Like this, angel," he said softly, repositioning your knees as you gripped his shoulders. "Here," he pulled one hand away from your ass to show you the correct motion to roll your hips with, guiding you until your movements matched his instructions.

"A fast learner in all things," He purred as a grin formed on your face, making him smile in return. You kept the movement of your hips steady, trying to control the bloodlust in your peripherals. 

Your hips slowed and you leaned forward to kiss along his neck, your fangs extending, and a new feeling came over you. A hunger that couldn't be filled by blood or sex. This hunger needed both, primally, simultaneously. And it had a target.

You felt him grip you a little tighter as your hips rocked a little faster. The bed began to creak softly beneath you as you increased your rhythm, his head rolled back with a soft moan. The sound only spurred you on.

Elijah gripped the back of your head and pulled you up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when you swirled your hips. The movement caused your clit to rub against him, giving you that delicious friction you so badly needed.

The wild hunger was taking over, obscene bloodlust. Clouding all reasoning. Your fangs ached with a painful desire to bite him, sink into him, take his blood.

"Elijah," you murmured between kisses. You couldn't wait any longer. Your eyes were black, your fangs extended, veins dancing under your eyes, and Elijah chuckled at the look. "Elijah, can I—"

He kissed you harder, his grip on your hips tightening. "Take what you need, angel,"

A growl came from the back of your throat, and your lips went straight to his neck. The moment you sunk your fangs in his skin, he moaned deeply, making your clench around him.

Time seemed to fall away as you tasted Elijah's blood. It was rich and sweet, nothing like anything you'd ever tasted before. It felt like you were in some sort of haze, unable to stop yourself from bouncing and moaning in Elijah's lap as you fed on him. Blinded by pure and unadulterated pleasure.

It was heaven, pure and simple, the taste of him. A moan rumbled from the depths of his chest, and you felt the reverberation of his groan through his neck.

You were drunk off his blood, high off his touch. Everything about him was intoxicating. The sounds, the taste, the feeling, the sin of it all.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."

You couldn't even if you tried. You would never disobey an order from him. Your hips were moving at an almost inhuman pace, the taste of his blood only adding fuel to the fire inside. He was all yours, and you were his. Blood, sex, breath, skin, all intermingling. You felt his hand come up and tangle into your hair, holding you to his neck as his other hand moved to the small of your back, adjusting your rhythm to an inhuman level.

"Just like that, angel, fuck," his voice was a strangled whisper, his head rolled back as a loud, throaty groan left him.

The way his body stiffened, the way he moaned, and the way his hips snapped up into yours, his cock thrusting deep into you had you seeing stars. You were coming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It was all too much. His blood, his cum, the feeling of him deep inside you, the taste of him on your lips, the scent of him everywhere. Everything exploded at once. White hot fire rolled over and under your skin, like you were being consumed by napalm. 

He moaned deeply as you rode out your orgasms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest. You panted, trying to catch your breath as his mouth found yours, he bit down on your lip, your own blood flooding his mouth, mingling with the taste of his. Completing the connection, blood mixing, becoming one. 

You were panting, breathless, sated. But the need wasn't gone. The hunger lingered. The desire remained. You didn't think it would ever be fully quenched.

Elijah pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips before he laid down, bringing you with him. He shifted so that his softening cock slipped out of you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as the two of you lay there in silence, catching your breath.

Your body felt exhausted and sore, but so fucking good, too. Your head was swimming as Elijah looked at you with a tender, loving gaze, a hint of pride lingering in the brown eyes that studied you. You felt your face grow hot under his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious from how intensely he was watching you.

Elijah’s fingers traced idle circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "You’re thinking too much, angel," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I just... I don’t know what this means to you." The words felt clumsy now, uncertain in a way you hadn’t been when you had marched into his study and asked him to ruin you.

Elijah hummed, tilting his head like he was considering something. "Curious," he mused. "You certainly weren’t so hesitant when you strolled into my study and propositioned me like one might ask for a book recommendation."

The heat that bloomed across your cheeks was now traveling down your neck. "That was different."

"Was it?" He chuckled, low and indulgent. "You seemed quite certain then. So impatient, so eager. So hopelessly distracted during our lessons. Tell me, was it always lust muddling your focus, or was it just me?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "I regret everything."

"No, you don’t," he countered, the smug grin evident in his voice. "But tell me, angel, why the sudden uncertainty?"

You bit your lip, the vulnerability creeping back in. "I don’t know if this was just... a lesson for you. That this is just casual,"

Elijah stilled for half a second. Just long enough for doubt to gnaw at you. Before he tipped your chin up, his eyes were dark but soft. "You are a rarity," he began, voice like silk. "Fascinating, infuriating. Bold enough to challenge me, reckless enough to walk into my study and ask the unthinkable. Do you know how long it has been since someone has surprised me?"

You swallowed hard, and he smiled. "That is why I call you angel," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Because I look at you and I see heaven."

Your chest ached at the weight of his words. He had called you angel from the moment he agreed to this. He had looked at you with something unreadable, something reverent, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elijah was right; this was a lesson for you, but not the one either of you had expected. It wasn't about control, or restraint, or blood. It was a lesson in trust, in opening your heart, and it was the last thing either of you had thought to expect.

And as Elijah leaned down and kissed you again, his hands gentle and possessive and loving all at once, you knew it was the beginning of something wonderful.

[wandasvamp]

care

— pairing | natasha x reader

— synopsis | nat helps you relax after a stressful day

— warnings | smut, top!nat, bottom!reader, shower sex, mommy kink, fingering, praising and degradation, aftercare, fluff (18+)

— word count | 1.1k

You were currently taking a shower after having a rough day at work; it’s like the universe decided to make your life hell today. You arrived late at work, your boss decided to be a bitch and the deadline for an important project is in two days. The hot water running down your body makes your sore muscles relax and you sigh in relief.

You jump when you feel two hands squeezing your waist and a chin on your shoulder; at least you think it is. You smile recognizing the perfume you gave to her on your anniversary, it’s your favorite and she knows it.

“Hi, my love.” She whispered in your ear and kissed that specific spot on your neck, making you swallow down a whine. “Baby, come on. You know that’s my weak spot and how I get when you kiss it.” You mumble while closing your eyes, tilting your head while Nat continues kissing your neck all the way down to your shoulder.

“I know honey, I know. That’s why I'm kissing it.” She laughs. “I can see how stressed and tense you are, baby. Let me take care of you, make you feel good.” She runs her hands across your stomach, going up to your boobs, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. You try to hold a moan in but fail miserably, feeling embarrassed by how fast you got aroused just by her touch. “Let it all out princess. I want to hear every sound that comes out of that pretty little mouth.” You can feel her signature smirk on your neck and a moan slips out. “That's my good girl.” She rasps and you are pretty sure you could cum just by her praises.

Her fingers start to rub circles on your clit while the other teases your hole. “Honey, please… I need you so bad, don’t tease.” She sucks your skin and then slams two fingers inside you, making you release a loud moan. “Aww, does my little slut like that?” She mocks and you nod. “Use your words.” You whimper, loving the roughness.”I love it, mommy. Fuck, I love when you´re inside me, filling me up, making me feel good.” You blurt out while she pumps her fingers in and out fast, still rubbing tight circles on your clit with the other hand.

You are a moaning mess and you know Nat´s ego is through the roof right now, she knows that only her can make you feel like that; only she has that effect on you; you´re hers to ruin.

She curls her fingers, hitting that spongy spot that drives you insane. “I want you to beg for it, baby.” She whispers in your ear and bites your earlobe. She can definitely feel you clenching around her and she knows you´re close. “I can feel you squeezing me, whore. Do you want to cum? Do you want to soak mommy's fingers?” She pushes your face on the tile in front of you, gripping your hair to steady herself.

“Yes! Yes mommy, please. I want to cum for you, please!” She slides her fourth finger in, making sure to stretch you out. You were too lost in the moment that you didn’t notice that she had turned you around to face her until she spoke. “Hold it. Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful, and all mine.” She mumbles around your nipple before starting to suck on it, making you throw your head back with all the pleasure running through your veins.

“All yours mommy, only yours.” You pant and pull her face closer to yours. “Please make me cum, mommy. I want to make a mess for you. Fuck your slut’s pussy.” She grunts and somehow she picks up her pace and goes faster than before. The water is still running but the only thing you can hear is how wet you are, and the low moans that Nat is letting out with every noise you make.

She slams her lips on yours and you wrap your arms around her neck. Moaning in each other’s mouths, Nat whispers. “Cum for me, baby. I know you want to. Be mommy’s good girl and make a mess on my fingers.” That’s all it took for you to climax; you didn’t even notice the tight grip you had on Nat’s neck, accidentally scratching it. She didn’t seem to mind that as she kept the same pace. You were confused and feeling a little overstimulated already.

“N-Nat, what are you doing?” You ask between breaths and then you see it, her damn smirk. “You know that’s not my name, sweetheart. Mommy wants to make you squirt today. You won’t be able to walk anyway so let’s enjoy it while we can, right?” She whispers against your lips, squeezing your throat to make it harder to breathe but not enough to completely cut your air supply. “F-Fuck mommy, ‘s too much.” Your knees are weak, you’re almost falling but Nat holds you up.

“You can go one more time, honey. You have taken more than this before and we both know you like it.” With one more thrust and squeeze of your neck, you fall apart all over her hand. She kisses your cheek and whispers praises while she lets you ride out your high. She patiently waits for you to calm down to slowly remove her fingers from you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asks while gently washing your body, cleaning you up. “I’m more than okay. I’m perfect.” You giggle and she can’t help but smile after seeing the smile on your face.

She picks you up, leading you out of the shower to sit you on the counter. “I’m gonna dry you up okay?” You nod while closing your eyes, the exhaustion hitting you like a truck. When you open your eyes again, Nat has already dressed you both up; you go closer to her and nuzzle into her chest while she brushes her hair. “We are going to bed soon, love. Just finishing this up okay?” She whispers and you nod again, feeling her warmth.

She picks you up again and you cling to her as much as possible. “Let’s go to sleep, baby koala. You need all the rest you can get.” She says while laying down on the bed, pulling you with her. She pulls the blankets up and tucks it around you both. She lays your head on your chest while she plays with your hair. “Good night, baby girl. I love you so much. You are my everything.” She kisses the top of your head and smiles. She knew you were already asleep, but she couldn’t help it; she was more than grateful to have you, to be loved by you. It was her privilege and she will forever cherish it.

[themuseinthewoods]

Respectfully, I think it's very important to discuss these things.

Not in this format. I never have liked things presented this way. Especially on here, but exposure is important. If it means that the younger crowd is thinking about it and aware that it's an issue.

And if they aren't thinking now then they might blindly follow MAGA and trump in the future when they are older.

Everything is controversial right now. Our very existence as members of the LGBTQIA+ community is controversial. Especially in the USA where I am.

And you didn't have to view this post. You can scroll past, leave it for people who want that on their feed.

Yes, I'm a minor. Barely so, but I still am. But a lot of my online friends are young adults, or older who have had their accounts since they were 13 or something and they aren't going to delete their account because many of them still enjoy fanfic or interacting with fellow nerds.

People come on here for vastly different reasons and maybe peoples reasons mean they want to see this sort of thing. Once more, you pick your Tumblr experience. We all do.

I wish that I could hug whoever made this.

[dreamyblanket]

https://www.tumblr.com/dreamyblanket/774993854186356736/humble-art-requestreader-hugging-caramel-arrow?source=share

Tbh I don't mind if you talk about her for that long because you drew her so well i hunger for more art of her so *throws another Caramel arrow x reader request at you* nyeh!

Aww thank you, have a flustered cara and rambling in the tags in return!

[ruinix]

Quinn, eating your pussy at his own pace, for hours.

Hello, lovely. I didn't expect to receive another ask for another drabble. I am not ready (actually panicked when i received this). Anyways, I may have gotten overboard with the details before what you requested. Once more asking you to put the bar down🧎🏻‍♀️because.... i'm crying 😭😭😭

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Lots of kisses, Oral (fem receiving...as requested), Q just wanna eat you up--🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️

Count: 1,491 words | Masterlist

You’re a treat. A fucking delicious one. Every time Quinn looks at you, his mouth instantly waters.

He always makes sure that you’re not doing anything that could be dangerous like chopping vegetables, cooking, or hopping over the counters to reach the highest cabinets. He will never endanger you. Though, work calls, phone calls with your friends or family, watching TV, watering plants, on your way out for errands, walking around the house because of boredom…those things aren’t dangerous. Important, sure but those can wait, right? You just look so delectable. Like a treat that’s just for him.

Quinn is sane enough to be wary, yet he could barely control himself when he pulls you for a kiss, pushing you against the nearest surface—the wall adjacent to your home office. He must kiss you and taste you mixed with your flavored lip balms. It's vanilla. Fuck. His. Life.

It would always be, “Oh, Quinn. I need to answer this call.” “Quinn. Sweetheart, I’m busy.” “Quinn, I need to go out.” “Quinn, we need to finish doing the laundry.” “Quinn, I need to do the dishes.”

Right now, it's, "I'm waiting for a call, Quinn."

Bla-fucking-bla. Everything can wait.

Quinn needs you. He’s always so fucking busy with hockey—practice, media, the games. He wants to be with you and taste you whenever chance he gets. And it’s now, now, and always now. It doesn't matter if he has an optional skate that he must prepare for. It doesn't fucking matter.

So, he kisses you deeper, holding your cheeks after he turns off your phone, relishing on your taste, making sure to deepen the kiss so both of you forget when one starts and one ends.

Do you know he could still taste the gum you chewed on an hour ago? Do you know he could still taste the caramel lollipop you were sucking on just now? God, he wants to taste everything mixed with you. You’re his favorite flavor. He wants something more. By the way you’re panting and grinding against his thigh, you want it too.

He’s getting drunk on your tongue, your taste, your touch that he could barely lead you to your bed. When you two part, a string of saliva connects you. Your eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown. Your lips are red and swollen. Your hair is fanned out beneath you like a halo. He nearly shudders when your hands find his cheeks.

“Can I?” he asks, while your thumb traces along his lower lip.

“Yes,” you would reply without hesitation, already knowing what he’s craving.

That’s all he needs. He’s kissing you again. Your lips. Your chin. Your cheek. Your jaw. Your earlobe. Your neck, taking his time to suck the fading kiss marks. Your collarbones. He almost tears your shirt open—too many buttons, fuck he just wants to touch you—but he knows better. For every inch of skin he exposes, he kisses and licks.

So divine. You smell like him. Fuck, you used his body wash again.

This is unfair. He feels like he’s losing and falling into your trap. Quinn wants that though. He wants to be trapped with you and nothing else. He wants it so fucking badly.

He could feel your silent chuckle, could feel the scrape of your nails on his scalp. You’re laughing at him, so he pulled down your bra. His lips find your nipple. He sucks, turning your laughter into tiny gasps. That’s it. He can’t have you laugh at him. Not right now.

He takes his time teasing your pretty nipples, licking and sucking your breasts’ undersides from time to time. Relishing his smell on you. His sweet treat. You make him so fucking hard. He knows he’s leaking—pre-cum staining his gray sweatpants—for you. All for you.

Your whines and pleas only make him want to tease you more. Your hips keep pushing up, thighs squeezing around his torso. Your hands that were busy tugging at his hair are now pushing down on his shoulder. You need more. Quinn knows that, but the taste of sweat on your skin is making him hold onto you tighter, making him lick every bead of your skin. Just a few more taste of your skin.

You’re trembling now. The first time you tremble when he touched you, he panicked. But now, he understands your body like the back of his hand. It’s your anticipation, isn’t it? You want all his marks. You want him. You need him. He understands that. Oh, so well, because he feels the same.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your skin, his eyes flicking to yours.

Your cheeks are flushed as you bite your lips. Your eyes shine with tears. Your eyebrows drawn together. Sweat drips down from your temple. “I love you,” you whisper.

Quinn swore his heart skips a beat. His stomach flips. Hearing those three words always makes him fall for you harder.

He almost drops this, like he could just appease his craving by kissing you. He could be satisfied with that. However, the moment his fingers slip over your panties, feeling how soaked you are, he can’t just stop. He yearns for your pussy. So, he continues. He goes down and down and down, hands expertly removing your skirt—which looked heavenly on you, by the way.

Now you’re just left with nothing. Totally bare. You look so majestic. All spread out for him. He sees your quivering hole, your arousal oozes, almost dripping.  What a sight. A delicious sight.

Quinn just dives for it, tongue licking from entrance to clit, making you mewl. He can’t stop the moan that escapes him. You taste so divine. His favorite aphrodisiac. His elixir.

Lick after lick, he revels in your taste. Your arousal coats every swipe of his tongue. It’s making his head spin, his cock aching. Yet he’s only tasting. Just tasting. Nothing more. Nothing yet. He has time. He has to savor this.

Fuck, he’s so hard. So fucking hard that when he dipped his tongue in your quivering hole, he almost comes as your wall tightens. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He could feel it through his cock. It’s always like this. It’s like you’re fucking him when he only has his tongue in you.

Your taste. Your smell. Your wetness. Quinn needs all of it.

He grips the back of your thighs, making you rest them over his shoulders, as he feasts on your pussy, hips rutting into the bed. Everything feels so good for him. The feel of your thighs squeezing his head, threatening to asphyxiate him on nothing but your pussy. That's one way to die, isn't it? Quinn doesn't have any complaints. As long as he's tasting you. As long as your pussy clenches around his tongue. He could just die like that.

When his nose grazes your clit, he feels your pussy throb, squeezing so tightly. Yes. Fuck yes. You’re cumming around his tongue, your thighs quivering, your hands ruthlessly tugging on his hair, your hips grinding on his face. Quinn firmly held you, slurping and sucking your cum. Tastes so fucking good. He holds your hips down. He doubles his efforts, devouring everything you have given him.

“Quinn,” you pant, trying to push him off. “'m sensitive.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He shamelessly doesn’t care. More. He needs more. You can give him more.

Your curses for him to slow down stutters when he sucks around your clit, his fingers replacing his tongue. He could feel your surrender as you grind against him, back arching when he hooks his fingers to your sweet spot. Your whines get louder. So much louder because you’re coming again and Quinn is already there, tongue deep inside your pussy, taking everything. So exquisite.

He takes and takes until you come down from your high, panting and quivering, but Quinn still wants more. He fucking needs it. He wants your taste to last until the next day. He wants to feel you come again and again around his tongue. It’s not fucking enough.

“Quinn,” you say in a broken plea.

“One more, baby,” is all he says. “One more.”

You answer with a whimper, head nodding.

You both know he’s a liar.

It’s never ‘one more’. Never even when he gets you to come twice more. Even when he comes in his pants—cum making the gray dark which only makes him more feral. Even when you get overstimulated as well as his dribbling cock. Even when his phone rings for that fucking optional skate. Even when you two are dripping with sweat. Even when exhaustion takes hold of you.

He would just slow down, but never part from you like your pussy is the only thing keeping him alive. It fucking is.

Quinn would eat you out for hours. He could do it for days, but you would always slap him off you after two hours. But today, he’ll go for three.

[sugurusfavemonkey]

say you'll be my darlin' - kento nanami (1/2)

mosaic ceilings, painted tiles on the wall i can't help but feel somewhat like my body marred my soul handmade beauty sealed up by two man-made walls when's it gonna be my turn?

valentine's day special summary: you've never had a valentine, but kento intends to change that

Some may say Kento Nanami is a reserved man, perhaps even aloof. Both sentiments are easily endorsed due to his unwavering straightforwardness and tendency to avoid certain impracticalities. And still, his detachment and bluntness weren't nearly enough to stop him from falling.

He tried, he really did, to keep his emotions in check: compartmentalized and separated from his work life, but nothing could have prepared him for the whirlwind that you brought forward within him. When it came to you, that task was easier said than done.

You were never put off by his stoicism, quite the opposite. You saw his bluntness as honesty and his sobriety as a virtue. Never mind the fact that you found his candor amusing more often than not: his sarcasm easily brought laughter out of you, a chuckle when you were accompanied by others, or sometimes giggles you would try to hide behind your hand. Nanami found each of your reactions charming and if you saw the corner of his own lips lift into a subtle smile and his eyes soften behind the lenses of his glasses as he stored the image as a souvenir in his brain? No, you didn't.

Where typically Nanami would have no problem focusing wholly on his work, a small portion of his brain was constantly thinking back to you. How you've managed to steal all that space and become permanently etched onto his normally single-minded psyche no one could tell.

It didn't help that his infatuation had taken a more physical turn as of late. The curve of your smile, the way your nimble fingers played with the cuff of your shirt, the glow in your eyes... Every aspect of you had Nanami completely enraptured. He had to restrain himself, honeyed eyes ensnared to your every move, hands aching to feel your skin, arms yearning to hold you, desire burning like molten lava through his veins.

There was no denying it, Kento Nanami was completely and utterly in love with you. Now, if only admitting that was as easy as it had been falling. Instead, words failed him for your presence had him feeling like a teenager who had to hide under a thick fringe of hair all over again.

The opportunity to finally confess his devotion (or at least an idea of how to shape the admission) arose on a particularly slow Wednesday.

One of the perks of having his eyes constantly seeking you out was recognizing the faintest changes to your demeanor. Nanami immediately noticed how your posture sagged slightly, the furrow in between your brows, your frequent sighs, the mug of coffee left untouched slowly going cold, even the way your smile didn't quite reach your eyes that morning. It bothered him profusely to know something was causing you torment to an extent his own mood was diminished.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh?" You looked up at the sound of Nanami's inquiry, your brows furrowing even further.

Your eyes got momentarily lost in the flex of his exposed forearms as Nanami dropped the paper he had been reading through on his desk and followed by removing his signature glasses to reveal enthralling syrupy hazel eyes focused solely on you, likely intending to give you his full attention.

"You seem... preoccupied today."

That gave you pause. The sentiment Nanami expressed - the articulated concern - wasn't unusual. His uncanny ability to be acutely aware of your wavering moods easily contrasted with his habitual detached persona. Sometimes you wondered if he was genuinely worried or merely being polite.

"You know me so well," you chuckled under your breath, gaze wavering. With how easily you got lost in his eyes it was challenging to keep up the eye contact when they were unconcealed like that. You sighed, "it's nothing important, don't worry about it."

He tsked condescendingly, "If it's bothering you that means it is important."

You nearly snorted at that, not because his declaration was funny but because you didn't have to look up to know it was accompanied by that skeptical and judging expression of his. You did look up anyway, and your next words jumped out of you before you could think them through, "How are you even real?"

Despite his guise, Nanami had never once been mean to you. On the contrary, he always seemed to have words of encouragement ready for you. You wished more people took notice of this side of him.

"I'm sorry?" His confused frown and slight tilt of the head was nothing short of adorable. You smiled and shook your head dismissively before propping your chin on your hand as you rested your elbow on the table in front of you.

"I was just thinking about this Friday," you explained with a small shrug as the fingers of your other hand tapped against the wood rhythmically.

His low hum carried a touch of raspiness characteristic to his voice as he regarded you contemplatively, most likely expecting you to further expand your line of thought.

You succumbed under Nanami's unwavering perusal and eventually unraveled your inner turmoil:

"it's just... I've never had a Valentine," you paused to gauge his reaction, eyes flitting over his face for the slightest change in expressing and opting to continue when there was none, "on Valentine's Day."

Maybe there was a slight twitch to his brow or maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you (for he remained just as still as a statue), but Nanami gave you no other indication he had even heard your outburst. He was definitely judging you. You slid down your seat, burying your face in your hands.

Nanami felt his hands twitch, the need to reach out and comfort you almost too much for him to bear.

"Fuck, how pathetic is that?" You laughed deprecatingly, peeking at him through your fingers, "That probably sounds like such a silly concern to you. I shouldn't have annoyed you with it. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. That does not sound silly. Or pathetic. Like I've said, if it's troubling you, it's a legitimate concern." the deep and rather stern tone he used had you sitting up, mouth slightly agape. "I can't help but wonder though... how come you've never had a valentine?"

"What do you mean?"

Nanami leaned back on his chair, crossing his legs and bringing his hands together on his lap and a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze glided over you from head to toe before returning to your face.

"That outcome just seems rather unlikely. Objectively speaking, you have a lovely personality and you're obviously a very attractive person."

You gaped at him, unsure there had ever been another time he had outwardly complimented you like this. Sure he would sporadically praise you for a job well done or on your improvement, but never something so personal. And then you were laughing because you'd rather not unpack whatever he could have implied with that, less it drove you crazy.

"You really are too sweet, Nanami," you pretended to wipe imaginary tears once your laughter died down. "I think as a child and through my teenage years I went unnoticed and then as an adult it was mostly a matter of timing. I'm always single this time of the year. Just unfortunate coincidences I guess," you shrugged.

"Well, who's to say this year won't be different?" his piercing gaze finally relented when he spoke, legs uncrossing and hands searching for his glasses. It was clear the conversation was over.

"I doubt that," you snorted. "Thanks for acknowledging my concern though. I do feel better about it." For what it's worth, the weight on your chest felt less heavy, both thanks to his accidental pep talk and uncharacteristic positivity.

"I'm always glad to be of service" to you left unsaid.

"Anyway," you clapped your hands together before using them as leverage to push yourself up and started picking through your belongings, even though you knew you would need none of that. "I better get back to work 'cause I'm not being paid to lazy around. You're an angel, Nanamin. See you around!"

He was definitely avoiding looking as you walked out of the room because you certainly wouldn't have said that had you been able to witness the vile images constantly permeating his head and tainting his thoughts.

It's not like he hadn't been watching the tantalizing sway of your hips and the enticing curve of your neck peeking from underneath your shirt from the corner of his eye when you walked into that same room earlier that day though.

Shaking those pesky thoughts, Nanami focused instead on the plan already forming on his heads, the gears turning as he deliberated on his new goal: be your valentine.

Friday came around too soon for his liking, but the plan had already been set in motion. Even though you consistently flustered him, Nanami couldn't recall a time he had been quite as anxious before.

He had been not so patiently waiting by the window, shoulders stiff, impassive expression, crossed arms and fingers of his right hand tapping continuously on his left bicep.

The setting had been arranged just right for your arrival, but his scheme wasn't without fail. There was one small hindrance Nanami forgot to take into account: Gojo.

"Look what we've got here, someone has a secret admirer!" his cadence was unmistakable as he crossed the threshold to the office alongside you.

You stopped on your tracks, gaping like a fish at the voluminous arrangement of blooming red roses in light pink tissue paper set on your desk.

"What the- What's all this?" You put your hands on your waist and turned to face the mam beside you, "Gojo, I swear to god. If this is your idea of a prank-"

"Not me, sweets."

"Then who-?"

Nanami cleared his throat, finally calling the attention of the bickering duo to himself. Seeing him promptly causes your annoyance to face into a bright grin,

"Hi, Nanami! Almost didn't see you there!"

Which he would have corresponded hadn't it been for the white-haired nuisance standing by you.

"Nanamin! My favorite office worker dropout." Gojo smiled and opened his arms widely as if expecting a hug, only to receive a deadpan instead, the vein at Nanami's forehead close to bursting. Gojo lowered his arms, a pout on his lips.

"Gakuganji is waiting for you," it's what Nanami went with as a greeting.

"Ha! That old geezer could die waiting for all I care." Gojo dismissed the assertion. He leaned forward, one long finger swiping underneath the band of his blindfold to pull it up on one side, and winked at the blonde sorcerer, "but I will leave you two lovebirds alone, if that's what you want."

After snapping his headband back into place he was off to bug someone else.

You strolled over until you stood face to chest face with Nanami and reached a hand to smooth the lines between his brows, "with the way Gojo irritates you, you'll look like an old man in no time if you don't relax a little bit, Nanami."

His entire body seemed to loosen up at your touch - jaw and fists unclenching, eyes softening, shoulders falling. It worked like magic and you didn't even know.

"I'll try my best."

You stepped back, cringing as you became mindful of his personal space which you had just trespassed with no warning whatsoever. Yet, you thought better not to acknowledge it and instead held onto the strap of your bag with both hands, using it as an anchor, and pointed your chin to the flowers.

"Any idea who's behind the roses?"

"I am."

"What?"

"I wanted to gift them to you for Valentine's Day."

"Oh. Oh!" A smile slowly built as the surprise sunk in, "that's such a sweet gesture. Thank you, Nanami!"

He nodded once, lips parting and closing briefly as if unsure of how to proceed, "you know, I consider myself a very eloquent man, but you make it very difficult to express myself.... to find the right words. I even considered leaving a letter along with the flowers, but I believe some matters are better said in person."

"Do I make you nervous, Nanamin?" you teased, head lolling to the side playfully.

"Please, don't call me that."

"Sorry," you winced, scratching at your wrist, "Yuji and Gojo's antics rub on me sometimes. I'll go back to Nanami."

"I'd prefer if you called me Kento, actually."

Now, who's making who nervous?

"Alright. Kento."

He straight out gulped as you carefully enounced his name, almost as if caressing the sound. Kento cleared his throat, eyes flitting to the ground and then back to your face.

"And yes, you do make me nervous."

You bit your lip to suppress a proud grin. Was it too soon to mention you liked the idea of making him nervous?

Nanami took a deep breath before saying your name, "will you be my valentine?"

"I'm- Really?"

"If you will have me, that is."

"Kento, I'd like nothing more."

"Well, in that case, would you like to have dinner with me tonight to celebrate the occasion?"

"Sure, that sounds lovely."

"I want to cook for you, but I didn't want to be presumptuous assuming you'd be comfortable going to my home on our first date so I also went ahead and made reservations at a restaurant, I can even send you a copy of their menu if that would make you less anxious."

That was the closest you had ever seem of Kento rambling. Maybe he had been nervous, after all.

"First date, huh?" You chuckled, swaying back and forth in your giddiness. "You could never make me uncomfortable, Kento. I'm fine with dining at your house tonight."

"Excellent. I will pick you up. Is 7 a good time?"

"It's perfect."

"I'll let you get back to work then. I look forward to tonight."

"So do I."

He smiled briefly before strutting to the door. You were so hypnotized by the way his shoulders flexed underneath his suit that you nearly forgot:

"Kento!"

"Yes?" He stopped and turned to you right as he reached the door, one inquisitive brow lifting above the edge of his glasses.

"The flowers are beautiful."

You had been applying the finishing touches to your look when the intercom ringed. You cursed and tripped trying to reach the offending electronic as if Nanami would give up on you if you left him waiting.

If only you know he would wait forever if that's what it took to have you - Kento was a patient man.

"Yes?" you answered cheerfully. His resonant voice called your name in question, making sure he had the correct apartment.

"Hey, Kento. I'll be right down!"

You rushed out the door after picking up your purse and keys and basically flew down the stairs.

You slowed down as you reached the lobby of the building where you could see Nanami standing on the other side of the glass doors, hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants, his biceps bulging in the sleeves of a clearly ironed crisp white shirt and undercut visible underneath his brushed back blonde hair. All you could think then was that it was Valentine's Day and that man was waiting for you.

Nanami turned when he heard the door unlocking and watched as you stepped outside. He breathed your name in wonder, appreciative gaze taking in every detail of you.

"You look absolutely stunning," his voice came out breathy.

"I could say the same of you."

He offered you his arm to guide you to his car, and you took it, treasuring the opportunity of testing if his arm felt just as solid as it looked (it did).

Like the gentleman he is, Kento opened the passenger door for you, but instead of taking the offered seat, you turned to face him and stood on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. When you got back to the sole of your feet you could see the dust of red looming from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

"You have a beautiful smile. You should wear it more often," you commented casually even though the palm of your hands were clammy and your throat dry.

Only then you did enter the car, a satisfied grin painting your face at the sight of a flustered Nanami as he closed the door after you and walked around the vehicle to take his spot as the driver.

Of course he drove an austere German luxury car, the spotless silver undoubtedly recently polished and the inside looking just as pristine. You would have thought it was brand new if you hadn't felt his expensive cologne in the leather seat or if you couldn't see his blunt sword on the back seat through the rearview mirror and keys and water bottle on the center console.

The drive was filled with quiet conversation as you filled each other in on how you spent the day: you complaining about paperwork, him praising Ino and Yuji. Nothing outside of usual.

The conversation never dimmed, if anything it only picked up once you made it inside his apartment. He opened a bottle of wine and handed you a glass, pointing you towards one high stools by the island in his kitchen so you could watch as he finished off the dinner he had left half-ready before picking you up.

It all felt familiar, safe.

And the sight of his broad back and tiny waist accentuated by the apron tied around it was not half bad of a view.

You were slightly tipsy by the time he finished putting together the salad and the oven beeped announcing everything was ready.

"Gosh, it smells heavenly!" You commended after a particularly strong sniff of the delectable aroma reached your nose.

"Hopefully, it tastes just as good." Nanami chuckled as he removed the roasted chicken, bread rolls and vegetables from the oven and took it to the table. You took that as you cue to follow after him to the dinner room.

He had set the table previously to your arrival with plates, glasses, cutlery and napkins for two. The decoration consisting of flowers and candles.

You settled in comfortable silence as you ate, you leaving complimentary comments and delighted hums with each new flavor you discovered and Kento taking it with gracefulness until both of your plates where cleared.

"You've outdone yourself, Kento. When I mentioned my lack of valentine I really expected nothing out of it. Thank you for making this day less sad for me."

Nanami gifted you with a soft smile, one you didn't think you had ever seen on his lips, his eyes squinting lightly with it, "it was my pleasure."

His soothing disposition gave you the courage to continue:

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You already did."

"Imma walk out that door, Kento." you threatened, but Kento knew it was in jest. Still, he relented:

"Please, do ask a second question."

"Are you doing this out of pity? Because I was moping about never having a valentine?"

Kento regarded you curiously, the lack of glasses letting you read him easily than you would have usually, but not without some challenge, considering most of his expressions were kept to a minimum.

"What do you think?" He questioned softly.

"I think," you stopped and used the hold you had on the stem of your cup to twirl the remaining liquid inside of it, "you've never went out of your way like this for anyone. At least not for as long as I've known you."

"That would be correct." He nodded once, almost proud of you for reaching an accurate conclusion.

"So why are you doing so for me?"

"Because I want to," simple as that.

"Because I have a lovely personality and I am a very attractive person? Objectively speaking, of course." You parroted his earlier words with a playful smirk.

"Perhaps I haven't expressed myself clearly." Kento leaned forward, his hand reaching yours across the table, probably to stop your nervous fidgeting and bring your full attention to him, "I think you are lovely. And beautiful."

"Hmm... Is that so?"

"Spending this Friday with you is the farthest thing from charitable. I'm doing it out of my own selfish desires."

"I'm still not convinced. It's just that... earlier today you said I made you nervous, but you've been the picture of composure all night. Even your place looks impeccable despite the fact that you spent hours cooking," You explained your doubt, but your voice wavered as his thumb started caressing your knuckles back and forth.

"Don't let the image fool you. That's a facade. I'd like to think after a couple of years I've became a pro in disguising my flustered state around you."

"That's... a long time."

"Upon our initial meeting, your beauty was the first thing I noticed, and then just how charming you are."

"That just can't be right. What, you just immediately knew?" You mentally cursed yourself for your eagerness, shaking your head, "you know what? Don't answer that. I'm just fishing for compliments now."

"And I'll gladly shower you in compliments for you are deserving of them. It wasn't immediate, no. I believe these feelings came to fruition with small interactions throughout our daily lives because I've come to perceive how kind, passionate, and intelligent you are through them. All qualities I strongly admire."

"Well, I think you are all that but also honorable, wise, generous, and dependable. Not to mention very, very handsome."

"Is it safe to assume you feel the same then?"

"Oh, more than safe."

"Good."

"You also make it very difficult for me to lower my standards. Because not only you're incredible, but you also can cook? You have to teach me how you do those bread rolls!"

"I've actually got the recipe from a local bakery. Is where I buy bread more often than not, considering our hectic schedules. They have a great assortment of pastries as well. I'll take you there another day."

"Is this your way of asking me out on a second date?"

"No."

Your face fell, surely you hadn't read all of this wrong?

"I'd like our second date to be more romantic than that. That's me asking you out for a casual outing. Perhaps as your boyfriend?"

You could have hit him and his stupid smug smirk as relief washed over you.

"Yes, this is my way of asking you if you'll allow me that honor." Kento answered your next question before you even had time to formulate it.

part 2 (AKA the smut) here (coming hopefully soon)

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagiarism is prohibited.

[lananiscorner]

Reblogging this version and stealing the tags as well:

#i realized this when I was following#gen padalecki#she was talking about the garden#and livestock#and book clubs#and doing so many things with the boys#and i realized that if she had to work#like i have to work#and didn't have the money to hire people to do shit#she couldn't do all of that either#and then i unfollowed her#because it wasn't relevant to me#and was just making me feel bad about myself#even though i knew we were not on the same boat#she's in a yacht#and i'm in a rowboat#and you can't compare the two

This is so important, especially when it comes to body image.

If you ever find yourself looking at someone and thinking "damn, I wish I was as slim and toned as that insta model" or "damn, I wish I was built like that Navy Seal dude"... remember that this is literally PART OF THEIR JOB. You can't be an insta model without being slim and you can't be a spec ops soldier without being in excellent, buff shape. And as a result, people like that spend A LOT of hours in the gym. Like, a lot A LOT. And no, not off hours, after already working for 8+ hours a day like you with your desk job. If you are trying to emulate people like that while not being in that job, you are essentially trying to do two jobs at once. And that ain't a sustainable way to live (you can make it work, but good grief, at what cost...)

And any time you look at someone rich enough to afford somebody else to do their cooking and cleaning and child care? Dial your own expectations way the hell down, because those are freaking time sinks. There's a reason rich people hire other people to do that shit for them (because it's work--and unless you are rich it's work you HAVE TO do for free, because cooking is kind of important for eating and cleaning is kind of important for being healthy and if you don't take care of your kids they have a high risk of ending up dead).

I would also add to this that sometimes it really is too late/impossible to strive for something that you would like to be your top priority. I have asthma and I'm nearing 40. Even if I started working out right now, with the same diet and exercise regimen as a soldier, I would not be able to get that level of fitness, because 1) my lungs aren't build for that and 2) aging is a thing and my body's prime days are over.

And that sucks. Realizing that there are legit, unchangeable roadblocks to things you would like to make your priority SUCKS. And it's okay to be angry and frustrated about that for a while, and to grieve the opportunities you wish you had but never will. It's perfectly fine and normal and healthy. So long as you remember that grief is not a place to be forever. Life goes on. There's more beauty to find in the world and so much more to live for rather than wallowing in sadness forever.

So, if you find yourself with something that you want to make your priority, but cannot, for circumstances outside of your control, ask yourself "okay, but how much do I have to dial back the intensity to make it work and still have it be a top goal?"

One of my goals for this year is to go swimming again. I used to do that competitively. I would love to get back to that same level of intensity again, but 1) I am getting old, 2) I have a full-time job, and 3) it's not something I can just do at home anytime I want--I have to take a bus to the city swimming pool to get there and they ain't open 24/7. So no, I will not be swimming again with the same regularity and intensity as before, but I will try to find a time window that will work with my job and the commute and the opening hours and I will take as much swimming as I can get, because good grief, I miss the water.

One thing that has made me a much more well-adjusted person is a clip I once saw of Hank Green saying that anyone can be in amazing shape as long as being in amazing shape is one of their top three priorities.

(This is obviously a generalization that isn't true for everyone. But it is true for most people and I'm proceeding from there.)

This "top three priorities" framing has genuinely reduced my tendency toward jealousy and self-comparison a lot. Now when I feel envious of someone’s spotless, aesthetic home, I think to myself, “Having a spotless, aesthetic home is probably one of their top three priorities. It’s definitely not one of mine, so I shouldn’t expect my home to look like that.”

Or when I see an influencer with a body that takes a ton of work to maintain: “Maintaining that body is obviously one of her top three priorities, because it’s her livelihood. My livelihood is my brain, so I’m never going to prioritize my body like that.”

It also helps me to identify areas that I actually DO want to prioritize more. I realized in recent years that my envy for my friends who prioritized writing more than I did was NOT going away, so I started to prioritize writing more. (Not top three, but higher priority than it has been in the past.)

[insidekatmind]

Professional-Hwang Jun-ho

The sharp night wind sweeps through the alleys of Seoul as you walk briskly toward the squad car parked behind the police precinct. The lit cigarette between your fingers burns slowly, while you watch the neon lights reflect in the dirty puddles. You've always been like this—cold, distant, untouchable. Not because you like it, but because it's necessary. In this world, showing weakness means you're done for.

"Are you planning to ignore me forever?"

Hwang Jun-ho’s deep voice cuts through the silence. He’s leaning against the car door, arms crossed, that piercing gaze studying you like he can read every secret you keep.

"Interesting attempt," you reply with a mocking half-smile, flicking away the cigarette and crushing it under your boot. "But you should know I’m not the type to get easily distracted."

"Could’ve fooled me, considering you were the one who asked for my help on this case." His voice drops lower now, almost a whisper, like he's daring you.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. You’re the best detective on the narcotics squad, and you don’t have time for stupid games. But him… he's different. Stubborn. Sharp. Suspiciously attuned to your every move.

"Don’t mistake work for something else, Jun-ho." You step closer, locking eyes with him. You're near enough to catch his scent a mix of coffee and prefume. "I’m not one of those women who fall at your feet."

He smirks, that smirk that makes you want to either punch him or kiss him—and that’s the problem. Because Hwang Jun-ho is dangerous. Not just as a colleague, but as a man. Because he sees past your mask, senses the cracks in your icy walls.

"I know," he murmurs, leaning in slightly, his face just inches from yours. "And that’s exactly why I like you."

Your breath catches for a second. You shouldn’t let him get this close. You shouldn’t allow him to see that beneath all this armor, there’s something fragile. But it’s too late.

Because deep down, you already know.You’re screwed.

“Come on now, we have work to do” you say coldly as you put your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket.

Jun-ho chuckles, the sound almost like a throaty purr that wraps around your senses. He pushes off the car, closing the distance between you in a few effortless strides. His lips curve into the kind of smirk that says he knows exactly what effect he's having on you."Always business first, huh?"

You cross your arms looking at him seriously. “Are you seriously trying to waste time when we have something important to do?”

Jun-ho raises a mocking eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. He knows you’re trying to hold your ground, to keep up appearances. But the spark in his eyes suggests otherwise. “Waste time? No, never. I just happen to believe multitasking is a skill.”He takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “And a little distraction now and then isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Detective.”

You try to maintain your composure, but the way he says those words,a hint of mockery, yet filled with a deeper meaning,makes your heart flutter betraying your stoicism. “We have a suspect to tail.” Your tone is sharp, but it does nothing to diminish the heat radiating between you. Jun-ho simply smiles, a smirk that feels almost predatory. He leans in, his breath whispering against your ear.

“I know a thing or two about tailing,” he murmurs, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “But I was thinking of a different kind of tailing.”You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, despite your best efforts to contain it. You clear your throat, attempting to regain control. This man is too damn confident.

“Focus, Jun-ho,” you snap, trying to keep things professional. “This isn't a joke. Our case is serious.”

He straightens up, a hint of mockery still lingering in his smirk. “Oh, I am focused,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “But I can't help but notice you're a little... distracted.”You glower at him, knowing damn well he sees straight through you. He's pushing your buttons, enjoying watching you squirm.

Jun-ho leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. He reaches up, tracing a finger lightly along your cheek. You try to swat his hand away, but he catches it effortlessly, holding onto it. His thumb grazes over your knuckles, the gentle touch sending electric sparks through your veins."You’re cute when you’re irritated," he murmurs, amusement glittering in his eyes. "But I prefer the look on your face when you’re flustered."

"Let. Me. Go." The words come out in an irritated hiss, but it does nothing to dispel the tension hanging in the air. Instead, it just makes Jun-ho's smirk widen.He leans even closer, his body almost touching yours. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breaths mingling with your own. “No.”

His answer sends a shiver down your spine, but you try to hide it. Even as his touch ignites a fire beneath your skin, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten under your skin. You try to pull your hand away, but his grip tightens. He steps even closer, his breath warm on your neck. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, pounding against your ribcage as if it’s desperate to break free. You’re a detective, for crying out loud. You’re supposed to be strong, aloof. But here you are, struggling to keep your cool while your colleague,your friend,is driving you insane.

"What's the matter, Detective?" His voice is a soft purr, his body pressed against yours now. He knows he's pushing all the right buttons, knows he's getting exactly the reaction he wanted. "Can't handle a little distraction?"His free hand drifts up to your chin, tilting your face towards his. His gaze is intense, almost predatory. You feel like prey.

"We have a case to solve" you repeated, trying to maintain your cool facade, but you didn't seem very convinced by what you were saying. You were hating yourself for being so weak, you're not like that. You've always been cold and closed.

"Oh, come on," Jun-ho whispers, his fingers tracing a path down your jawline, "we both know work isn’t the only thing on your mind right now."He’s so damn infuriatingly smug. You’re trying to keep your cool, to keep things professional, but he’s making it impossible. Every look, every touch feels like it’s designed to unravel your defenses.

"You're reading too much into things," you manage to respond, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. Jun-ho gives you a knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours."Am I?" He murmurs, his breath now hot on your ear. "Or am I just seeing what’s right in front of me?"He's too close, too confident, and it's driving you crazy. Your heart is pounding like a drum, a maddening rhythm that's threatening to drown out your rational thoughts.

Jun-ho senses your internal battle. He steps even closer, his body now flush against yours. You can feel the heat of him, the subtle pressure as he pins you against the car."Just admit it," he whispers, his voice low and intense, "you're not thinking about the case right now. You're thinking about me."

“I hate you so much right now,” you whisper, looking at his lips. Jun-ho's smirk widens, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of satisfaction and arrogance. He knows he's got you right where he wants you, and he's reveling in it.

“You don’t hate me,” he murmurs, his voice lowering into a sultry purr. “You just hate that you can’t resist me.” With a swift motion, he captures your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up towards his. He's so close now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. He leans in, his lips skimming the shell of your ear.

"Admit it," he whispers, his breath hot on your skin. “You want me just as much as I want you. Stop fighting it. Let yourself go." The urge to surrender is strong, but you stubbornly cling to the last vestiges of your composure. You can't let him win so easily. You're not some helpless damsel in distress.

You push against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. "You're cocky, you know that?" Jun-ho chuckles at the feeble attempt to regain control, catching your wrists in his hands. "And you love it," he retorts, his grip tightening slightly. "Admit it. My cocky attitude drives you crazy."

You hate that he knows he's right. His arrogant confidence is infuriating, but it's also strangely alluring. It's as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crumble."You're a jerk," you mutter, but the lack of conviction in your voice betrays you.

"Mmhmm." That cocky smirk again. He's enjoying this far too much. He takes a step closer, his body now pressed against yours. You can feel the solid planes of his chest against your back, the heat of him seeping through your clothes."You can call me all the names you want, but I know the truth," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline. "You're craving this just as much as I am."

The speed and ease with which he pins you against the car takes your breath away. In an instant, you're backed up against the cold metal, your wrists caught in his firm grip. Jun-ho's body presses against yours, his hands pinning your wrists above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy. Every part of you is hyper-aware of his presence:the heat of his body, the strength in his grip, the spicy scent of his cologne. His gaze is intense, his eyes dark with a desire that's making your heart race."You’re so stubborn," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. "You just can't help but push my buttons, can you?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against the hollow of your neck. The touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine. His breath is hot on your skin, making you feel strangely vulnerable."You know I have a weakness for stubbornness," he whispers, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear. "But you're really testing my patience."

You try to stay composed, to act like his touch doesn't affect you, but it's a losing battle. Your body betrays you, melting into his touch, seeking more. With a low chuckle, Jun-ho notices the change in your demeanor."You can act tough all you want," he murmurs, his lips now on your jawline, "but I can feel the way your pulse quickens when I touch you."

Jun-ho's gaze locks with yours, his eyes studying your conflicted expression. He's enjoying this,the way you're fighting to hide your feelings, the way your eyes betray your true emotions. He lets out a low chuckle, his grip on your wrists loosening slightly."You're struggling, aren't you?" He murmurs, his lips hovering just millimeters from your own. "Trying to decide whether you want to punch me or kiss me."

His words hit too close to the truth. The mix of anger and desire bubbling inside you is driving you crazy. You want to push him away, to tell him to back off. But the way he's looking at you,with that arrogant smirk and those intense, dark eyes,makes it damn near impossible to resist.

His lips capture yours with an intensity that takes you by surprise. The kiss is hard and hungry, his mouth claiming yours as if he's been craving this moment. He's still pinning you down, his body pressed against yours, his grip on your wrists now loose but possessive.He deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, and your resistance falter.

You kiss back and moan softly as you cling to him. Your response emboldens him, his kiss growing more possessive, more intense. He releases your wrists, his hands now roaming over your body, exploring every curve with an expert touch. He knows exactly how to drive you crazy.He breaks the kiss, his lips leaving yours to trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. His hands slip under your shirt, his touch searing against your bare flesh.

You moan softly. “Jun-ho,” you whisper, holding onto him. Jun-ho responds to the sound of his name coming from your lips, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He continues his assault on your neck, his tongue grazing the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Say my name again," he whispers, his voice huskier than before. "Louder."

You try to cling to your remaining shreds of control, but your resolve is crumbling under his touch. The way he's commanding you, the way he's making you feel, it's all too intoxicating.You let out another soft moan, his name tumbling from your lips. "Jun-ho." It almost sounds like a plea.

Jun-ho lets out a possessive growl, the sound low and primal. He captures your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more desperate. His hands explore your body with fervor, slipping beneath your shirt to touch skin. His touch is electric, setting your senses ablaze.

He grabs your waist, hoisting you onto the hood of the car with ease. He steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours, trapping you in his embrace. The heat between you is palpable, the tension almost unbearable. Jun-ho's hands slide down your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck once more. "You have no idea the things you do to me," he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with desire.

His lips move lower, towards your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the way. You're melting under his touch, unable to resist the fire he's igniting within you. His hands grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's trying to brand you as his.

The sharp crackle of the radio breaks through the heated atmosphere, jolting both of you back to reality. Jun-ho's eyes dart towards the sound, his gaze sharpening. He mutters a curse under his breath.He looks back at you, conflicted. He's clearly torn between duty and desire, the moment shattered by the reminder of their job.

You give him one last kiss and walk away to the car. "You drive" you say, adjusting your jacket and returning to your detached attitude.

Jun-ho watches you as you compose yourself, his eyes still dark with unspoken desire. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment as you put up your detached and professional front again. But he knows that the moment has passed, that the job takes precedence now.

He takes a deep breath, composing himself, and heads to the driver's seat. "Right. Let's focus on the target," he says, his voice cool and business-like.

[gorillawithautism]

A little over a year ago, on February 3rd 2024, Clark Joseph Harman was murdered. He was 12 years old. Not even 24 hours prior, He had been legally kidnapped by two men from a "transport" or "escort" company that had been hired by his parents. He was brought to Trails Carolina, a "wilderness program" and part of the troubled teen industry. The act of being legally kidnapped in this manner is often called getting "gooned" in survivor communities.

Before I properly start, I have a note: I learned of his name because someone in the r/troubledteens subreddit found it not long after I heard of his case. I did not learn his name because it was consensually released by his family. As such, I will use only his initials (CJH) throughout the rest of this post. I decided to head the post with his name because I think it's important that people know it. It was not consensually released, and that should be respected, but he was still a whole person. He was a twelve year old boy with a name and a family and so much life left to live. All of you should witness what was taken from him.

The medical examiner's preliminary report states that after CJH was gooned, he went through a check-in to process him into the program. He was uncooperative at first, demanding a phone call with his parents, but was able to cooperate after talking to them. He was placed on a 1-1 with a staff member who was with him at all times. The staff member says CJH chose not to eat dinner. Then they went to bed. According to Trails' protocol, he was to sleep on the floor of the cabin with a staff member sleeping beside him. His set up was a thin mattress with a thick plastic sheet folded into a canoe-like shape and set on top of the mattress. Above that, a sleeping bag inside a bivy with a zipper alarm that would go off if he tried to leave his tent. CJH slept but he was restless and mumbling. He had a (staff-permitted) moment outside his tent around 11pm but then goes back to "bed." Around midnight, he is restless and mumbling in his sleep once again, and he begins thrashing. It eventually subsided. Routine checks were performed by staff, but the bivy being opaque meant that they did not actually see CJH. I will note that this detail was against protocol. Normally, the bivy has a mesh interior door and the staff would have been able to see CJH in their routine checks. However, the mesh door on the tent they used that night was broken, so they used the weather resistant outer door instead. Despite these routine checks by staff, the thrashing at midnight is the last noted incident until morning.

And yet morning comes, and a little boy is dead. Staff find him in his tent lying on his right side with his feet at the head of the bivy and his head at the tapered end of it. He is cold and unresponsive. 911 is called, CPR is unsuccessful and a little boy is dead. A little boy is dead and they don't notice until morning. A little boy was kidnapped and now he's dead. A little boy was in the troubled teen industry for less than 24 hours and he's dead because of it. He will never get out of the industry and he will never leave that wilderness program and he will never heal from the trauma he was forced to endure because he's dead. They killed him. The program killed him, the staff killed him, our government killed him, those goons killed him, his parents killed him, you killed him. A little boy is dead, and an uncountable number of people are at fault.

There's an extent to which his parents are victims too. They lost their son because of an awful choice they made. And while I don't know these people personally, I do know enough about how this industry works to know it's highly likely that they believed in what they were doing. Everything they did was legal, and everything they did was advertised to them as something that would help their child who they didn't know how to care for. I'm not saying it was a good decision, but I know how predatory this industry is. A parent who doesn't know where to turn, a child who clearly needs help, and suddenly a web page. Or a hired educational consultant. Or another parent. Or a pamphlet. Something or someone that tells them "There are schools and programs for children like yours. There are options for parents like you." They say "Send your kid to Trails Carolina. It's like a summer camp for kids who need help." According to several cult researchers, the troubled teen industry is much like a cult. The parents are often people who genuinely care about their kids and truly believe this will help. The cult drew them in as cults do. CJH was killed by his parents and their choice to send him to trails. CJH was killed by his parents, and that cannot be changed. They will always have to carry that responsibility, and I cannot stress enough how it was their fault and they do have a part in this. But if I let a single person come away from this with the impression that they are entirely or even mostly to blame for their child's death, I will have failed to communicate just what this industry is and what it does to children and their families.

The system at large is what's at fault. The program itself, Trails Carolina, has killed kids before (Alec Lansing, 17, died of hypothermia after being injured while attempting to run away from the program, Trails Carolina, November 23rd 2014). Other programs have killed kids before, both recently (Cornelius Frederick, 16, killed in physical restraint, lakeside academy, May 1st 2020) and further in the past (Phillip Williams Jr., 15, official cause of death was a "brain aneurysm" but this was determined with no proper investigation and he had been severely beaten in some sort of "therapeutic boxing ring" before his death, Elan School, December 27th 1982). These programs are not made to help us. They are made to fix us. And in practice, all they do is kill us and traumatize us. They manipulate, they brainwash, they abuse, they hurt, they kill. All of them do. Even the ones that supposedly don't utilize physical restraint methods. Even the ones where staff don't sexually or physically assault the kids in their custody. Even the most tame and least violent of programs. Even the ones that don't interrupt our academics, even the ones that don't drug us with excessively or incorrectly prescribed medication, even the ones in tourist hotspots like hawaii, even the ones where a kid can work with horses or dogs or rabbits. They all abuse us. All of them.

And it's legal. It's all legal. Even our deaths are legal. Trails Carolina was forced to shut down after CJH's murder, but other programs still exist and the DA chose not to press charges. Let me say that again. The District Attorney. Chose not to press charges. For manslaughter.

On November 6th 2024, District Attorney Andrew Murray issued a press release where he stated that while CJH's case was "heartbreaking" and "tragic," that it "did not involve criminal intent or recklessness sufficient to warrant criminal charges for involuntary manslaughter under the law." The carelessness of having CJH sleep in an opaque tent where the staff could not get sights on him during their routine checks was not enough. Letting him to sleep in a tent where such suffocation was even possible in the first place was not enough. Having an alarm on the door so he would be unable to get out without consequences was not enough. Forcing him to sleep in this tent despite the fact that he was both "audibly and physically upset" about this sleeping arrangement was not enough. A dead child was not enough. And it will not be enough so long as these programs exist. Everyone that put him in that situation and everyone who allowed it to go without any sort of legal charges or reform is at fault for this child's death.

And that includes you. Every single one of you who is not a victim or survivor of the troubled teen industry. All of you who watch these children die and say nothing. All of you who force survivors and victims to trigger themselves over and over again in an attempt to speak up against the system that hurt us. All of you who don't listen. All of you who listen once and then let yourself forget about us. Every single one of you.

A child is dead, and more will die. And it feels like TTI survivors and victims are the only ones who care. How many of us will die because of you?