#this is the sort of shit that excuses killing minorities

[tearueful]

I'm sorry, what.

...what the fuck do you mean he doesn't deserve to be charged?

He gunned down a man in cold blood in the street.

You have lost the plot if you're trying to make this man a hero. No one gets to have a little murder as a treat.

No one needs to shed one tear for a murdered CEO, but don't pretend like the act itself isn't deplorable.

Please do highlight how fucked up and greedy UHC is, please do continue to circulate and promote the injustice they've caused. Please do continue to highlight how America's private health care system is utter garbage.

-but if you're justifying murder? You're not on the good side. That man didn't kill that CEO for a GLORIOUS REVOLUTION. He killed him for attention and he did it effortlessly because we live in a nation seeped in gun violence.

well, they found him. and unfortunately, he’s a bit weird. posted a bunch of stuff on X. politically extremely hard to pin down. i just want to remind you all—standing united against megacorporations should not be, and does not need to be, a political position. we can disagree with the suspect on other issues and still believe he doesn’t deserve to be charged. let’s demonstrate that this issue transcends other political squabbles

say it with me, everyone: “I’m not interested in engaging with the Culture War. I’m interested in engaging in the Class War. We can argue about that other, petty stuff once multi-billion dollar companies aren’t allowed to kill people indiscriminately under the law anymore.”

[writingouthere]

bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

[angelfoxx]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° “…US?”

…in which their feelings for you become apparent.

FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, & keegan p russ I AM SALIVATING

WARNINGS: suggestive, but nothing nsfw. yet 😇 also so sorry i write k**gan’s name and i just get fucked up. i just can’t behave myself. so i lose my mind a little in his section eek

NOTES: excuse my rather small starting lineup; i’m still new to the game and all of its lore and i’d rather get to know the characters first rather than make horrible headcanons based off of their fanon interpretations. you know, like making a six foot ten war criminal dresses in a fucking executioner’s hood a little uwu baby

— SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.

✧ Everything I see on TikTok regarding this guy makes him seem like a fucking demon in the sheets. I really don’t get that vibe. Especially not at the start of a relationship.

✧ The first time you meet, he thinks you’re attractive. And then he pushes that thought aside, because he’s a soldier. He’s actively at work doing a high-risk, high-stress job. You’re attractive, yes, but he’s not going to pursue you. This is not the right time for that.

✧ Things develop after…like, a long ass time. And it’s not sexual in the start. It’s, like…you’re cleaning your gun down after a mission, and you get a clean rag thrown into your lap. You look up into those hollow soulless fucking eyes and Ghost just shrugs, not meeting your gaze but instead just vaguely gesturing at your gun. “Your rag’s dirty. You’re rubbin’ dirt int’a the thing.”

✧ It’s small things like that. Things that are helpful but always laced with a comment that could be considered sort of rude or abrasive. He doesn’t notice; he only realizes that he’s coming off as rude and probably pushing you away after he makes a comment on your form being lazy and Price, sort of quietly laughing, asks why he’s so insistent on snarking on you. He replies that mistakes like yours could get you hurt. Which, they could. But so could everyone else’s, and he doesn’t make comments about them. So…?

✧ Phase two of him trying to…hit on you? Exist with you? Who fucking knows. Anyways, he just stops talking. He’ll still throw you clean rags, but he won’t make a comment about how using a dirty rag is ruining your gun. He’ll still make a point out of sweeping fallen food and shit off of your spot at the table after you eat, but he doesn’t grumble and scoff at you not to waste anymore. He resorts to silent acts of service to the point where it gets annoying. He’s always quiet, but now he’s unnervingly quiet and honestly, is it still him if he doesn’t catch you for random things every now and then?

✧ The silent stage can go on forever, so a catalyst really saves you. The catalyst comes when a new recruit gets a little too aggressive; a small argument about your ability on the field turns into a minor brawl. Aforementioned brawl immediately ends when the recruit dares to put their hands on you and shove you and Ghost, like some six-foot-one demon cast from the pits of hell, appears behind you and gets very up close and personal with them. Asking what the hell they think they’re doing, asking if they think that’s a good way to have a team on the field, et cetera, et cetera. Basically, he makes the recruit feel like absolute shit. Oh, and he doesn’t look at you the entire time.

✧ So, obviously, now you have a weird situation at hand. You’re getting ready to go to sleep and everyone’s sort of looking at you funny, because there’s no reason for a fucking lieutenant to jump in and break up an argument like that—pulling people apart, sure, but not so suddenly and not so aggressively. The recruit hasn’t spoken to you. Ghost hasn’t spoken to you. So, anyways, you pay him a visit.

✧ You go down to say thanks, and for some fucking reason, the guy can’t take a compliment. Or gratitude. He says you were slower than the other recruit, that it’ll get you killed on the field, et cetera. He can’t just shut up and take the thanks.

“I’m telling you, I…I came down here to thank you, of all things. Can you cut the criticism one time and accept it?”

Ghost stiffens. It’s not a thousand-yard stare anymore. It’s just a wide, pissed-off glare. For a long minute, he’s silent. And then…

“Welcome.” His voice is grumpish. “Happy?”

“Sure.” You manage a little smile. It’s sort of funny; he can’t just take your thank you and drop it. “It’s improvement.”

Ghost nods once, albeit stiffly. “Okay.”

“…so, you gonna tell me why you did it?” You ask it as a joke. You aren’t dumb. You know he wants you gone. You’re expecting a harsh “get out” or something of the like. You aren’t expecting an answer.

“Disrespect makes ignorance. Ignorance makes casualties.” Oh. An actual real, reasonable answer. Surprising. Ghost himself seems a little surprised; he blinks owlishly again, and he doesn’t say anything else. He’s just a big guy standing in a little room with a skull mask on.

“Oh.” You swallow. “That’s…rational.”

“Were you expecting irrational?”

“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.” You scoff. “You’re not exactly chatty.”

“I don’t waste words.” Ghost’s eyes narrow. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t call you dumb.” You shrug. “I’m just surprised you gave me an answer that wasn’t bitching at me.”

“I don’t bitch.”

“You do.”

“I’m not a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, recruit. I don’t bitch.”

“Even Price thinks you bitch. At me, at least. All the time.”

✧ Price thinks he bitches at you? And he’d told you? Oh, no, no. Externally, Ghost is stiff and stoic. Internally, Ghost is shitting bricks. Price had told you that? Straight-up told you that? Oh, no. You and Price talk and he comes up in conversation? Oh, no, no, no.

✧ He addresses this with Price, obviously. Storms in all puffed-out and pissy and asks what the hell he’s doing gossiping about his soldiers and Price just sort of laughs him off, asking what he’s talking about and then why he’s so upset that he’s bringing up one of his best men to one of the recruits.

✧ Oh.

✧ Ghost swears up and down it’s not like that. He swears and he bangs the side of his hand on the table and he curses on his own heart that it’s not like that but the whole time Price is laughing because in all of the years that he’s known Simon, not once has Simon broken through Ghost. But now, he has. The stumbling over words, the defensive aggression, the way he’s pacing so furiously—oh, Simon Riley is melting down inside that big mask and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.

✧ Cue Price becoming a wingman. Ghost swears he’ll kill him every time he puts you two together to spar or puts you two on cleanup duty or god fucking forbid you’re in the doghouse doing some foul task and Ghost has to watch you. God fucking damn the captain, because he knows Ghost will grumble and complain but with you, he’ll eventually stop that in favor of helping you. And it’s sort of heartwarming for him to do his nightly rounds and it’s all quiet but there’s voices coming out of the kitchen and he can hear Ghost in that gruff, grumbly tone telling you how to mop and you snidely telling him that if you can’t do it right, then maybe he should do it instead. And he objects, of course, and then within ten minutes Price watches Ghost’s shadow come up to yours and he hears the mop change hands.

✧ It takes you a long time to realize that you’re really being assigned to Ghost’s side for every fucking thing you do. It takes you an even longer time to realize that Price tends to pass by you two on occasion, and every time he does, he’s smiling. And it takes you a ridiculously long time to realize that Ghost isn’t always radiating heat; whenever he takes the mop from you or takes the gun you’re cleaning from you, whenever he finishes off a task that you’ve started, it’s not that he’s always that hot. It’s that, under that mask, he’s flushed.

✧ It takes you a very, very long time to realize that the legendary Ghost has taken an actual liking to you.

— JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.

✧ Thank fucking god this guy is next. Slow burn ass Ghost makes me want to rip my eyes out. Just have passionate angry sex and talk about your feelings after. Christ.

✧ It’s not exactly a secret that the minute you arrived on base, you gained an admirer.

✧ Soap isn’t someone who rarely gets hooked on someone else. The guy’s a walking heart eyes emoji. The difference with you was that it wasn’t the kind of attraction that had him sweet-talking you over drinks that night.

✧ This was different. Rather than chase, Soap wanted to impress — and, well, he tried. He tried his fucking hardest. He tried so hard the other higher-ups noticed. How embarrassing.

✧ Every time you’re in the room, he somehow gets even chattier. His voice drops. If he’s working out, he starts loading weights onto the bar he’s using to an almost comical degree. He loses his fucking mind. It’s like he short circuits. Which is ridiculous, because he’s a fucking soldier. What the fuck is he doing trying to lift five hundred pounds on a Tuesday morning? Why is he freaking the fuck out?

✧ The thing is, right, is you’re not exactly hovering over the guy. You have your own agenda to adhere to and also, it would be really weird if you just started laying praises on him, so you go about your day as regular and poor Soap is left heartbroken and also achy-armed because you literally could not care less that he’s lifting double, triple his body weight.

✧ Literally every higher-up notices. They make jokes about it and he borders on threatening friendly fire. It’s just a little crush. That’s all it is. Yeah. And so when you’re all doing team sparring and you keep winning, he’s just watching you like a lovesick puppy because it’s just a little crush. That’s all.

✧ Price can’t have his soldiers slacking off. Of course not. He can’t have them getting lazy — so he orders Soap to go up against you. Because, you know, he seems out of it and you’re the best of the recruits, so you’ll go against someone better. Yeah. That’s why he calls him out.

✧ God bless the poor guy. He panics for like three seconds and then makes a very thickly-accented taunt about how it’s unfair to you to go up against him. You, of course, in the spirit of good fun, reply to his taunt and tell him to prove it.

✧ He goes into the circle with you. He goes into the circle with you and he fucking falls apart.

You’ve quickly learned that talking is Soap’s weakness. If his mouth is moving, his feet fall behind.

“Get enough sleep last night, MacTavish?” You dodge a flying fist. “You look a little sleepy.”

“Got plenty.” A wry grin crosses his face. “Don’t worry about my beauty sleep.”

“I have reason to. You need it.” You wrinkle your nose. “Bad.”

Soap’s jaw drops slightly, and — there! — he hesitates. Probably out of surprise, but it’s enough. Deftly, you lunge in at his knees, swipe them out, and…hm. Simple. Almost too easy, actually, to pin him.

Soap’s heart is pounding under your hand. His chest is flat against the ground, but you can feel it through his back, which is wild in and of itself. He grunts when his cheek hits the ground; he mumbles something akin to “bloody hell”, but you can’t quite make out the words.

Grinning, you sit back and kick your heel up against his neck, keeping his head pinned down. The cheering you receive mostly comes from recruits who are impressed with your skill.

The minority is higher-ups, exchanging amused glances. They seem awfully humored with the sight of one of their own being pinned so easily by a new recruit. Hmm…

✧ From that point on, Soap somehow manages to watch more of your sparring sessions. He usually just watches, rather than critique; if you ask, he’ll just say you certainly seem to be doing fine. If you ask for help, though, he’ll help you. Christ, he’ll help you. He’ll genuinely spend time assisting you on whatever is troubling you.

✧ Eventually, after a long training day, you decide to ask Soap to join you in the ring. You genuinely just want to see how you stack up to a “better” opponent; you’ve apparently pushed beating him to the side. Or you just want to do it again. He doesn’t think of that, though.

✧ He’ll come in (after teasing you just a bit) and he will spar with you, just giving you advice and pointers mid-action. He’s whipped, but he’s also still a trained soldier. He knows what he’s doing, and once he gets through the brain fog you seem to weigh down onto him, he is genuinely helpful.

✧ Still, after you’re both hot and panting and finished and resting on the sidelines, you have to ask him why he helps you so much. You have to ask if it’s because he thinks you’re lacking, or bad, or if it’s some sort of personal vendetta for that one time in front of the recruits and the higher-ups.

✧ Soap just laughs and, rather awkwardly, rubs at his neck. He avoids eye contact, and he bites his lip, and he tilts his head around before he dares answer you, tone sheepish. “Consider it a, ah, personal interest.”

— KEEGAN P RUSS.

✧ SHITS MYSELF VIOLENTLY. SO SORRY

✧ i love this fucking man so very much and i don’t know jack shit abt him because i need to play ghosts and get the first hand experience like I don’t want to spoil his character but I URRRGHHGGGGG

✧ imma try to do him justice but sorry if im missing on important lore

✧ He’s not as uptight as Ghost, but he’s not as whipped as Soap. He’s somewhere in the middle; he’s aware that you’re attractive but he does push it aside. He’s working. You’re working. He doesn’t have time for that, and it’s also a safety concern. He remembers what they did to Ajax, and god fucking forbid they try to pull that shit with anyone else to use as bait.

✧ When he’s at base, he’s busy. He’s devoted to his work and he doesn’t cut corners to chit-chat. The most social he’ll really get is at dinner; he’s the kind of person who will eat with the group, but rather than talk, he’ll really just listen. he’s me fr fr

✧ Getting to know Keegan is sort of awkward because he’s just not super outgoing. He’s attractive (if your radio is on and you don’t buckle at the knees the first time you hear his sexy deep pantywetting voice over the thing, are you even real?) and he’s got the whole mysterious quiet guy thing down, and yet when you approach him to try and strike up a conversation with a simple question (“So how was your day?”) he’s prone to just looking at you and raising a brow and answering sort of flatly. (“Same as every other one. What, did something happen?”)

✧ Most of your bonding actually occurs when it’s just the two of you. You’ve bumped into him late at night before — sometimes he’s at the range shooting targets and fiddling with a variety of weapons, or sometimes he’s in the kitchen scouring the shelves, or sometimes he’s in the gym working out when nobody is there to bother him and ogle his fine ass fucking body holy shit his thighs. He’s a little easier to talk to at night, actually. Maybe it’s the lack of a crowd, but the first time you stumble into him making himself a pot of fucking tea at damn near midnight, he actually seems friendly.

“What are you making?” For a moment, you panic, thinking that you might’ve just scared the shit out of poor Keegan by speaking so suddenly and from behind where he’s standing beside the sink, a little humming kettle in front of him. His shoulders god his fuckinf shoulders i want to lick them don’t so much as twitch, though — and then you remember the guy’s entire job is stealth and observation. Hell, he probably heard you across camp.

“Tea.” Yeah, he couldn’t sound less concerned. His voice is as low and gravelly as usual; he sounds a little more relaxed, actually, not so brash and shout-y. “Chamomile.”

“Sergeant Russ drinks chamomile tea?” You laugh a little, sort of tentatively. You two aren’t strangers, but you’ve only had a few conversations…if you can call brief exchanges conversations, of course.

“…yeah?” Keegan actually sounds confused; it’s dark in the kitchen, but you can make out the outline of his head turning over his shoulder. “What, you got a problem with that?”

“No. No, sir. No problem.” You shrug. “I just didn’t peg you to be the chamomile tea type.”

“Didn’t you?” The short scoffish bark Keegan lets out is a brief laugh. “What did you peg me for?”

“Dunno. Black, I guess.”

“Are you calling me boring?”

“No.”

Keegan hums in response to that. He busies himself with pouring his tea and thank fucking god your eyes have adjusted to the dim light in here because god, his fucking hip to waist ratio under that gear is something wicked and you let your conversation slip. You’re in here for a snack, but you don’t want to bother—

“You come in here for somethin’ other than staring?” Oh. Good. This is the Keegan you’d expected after hearing him sass half of his team on comms. You can hear the edge of a grin in his voice; there’s a shuffle as he turns around and then a wooden groan as he leans against the counter. A short second later, you hear the almost exaggerated slurp of tea.

“Crackers. I’m hungry.”

A wooden scrubbing sound. He’s moved over, presumably to let you open the cabinet housing boxes of sort of dry, not particularly good crackers. He doesn’t say a word; he just keeps drinking his tea and pretends to ignore you as you make your way over, crouching down to fumble for a bag of crackers. Pretend, because you can feel that he’s watching you. His presence on the field is invisible; his gaze in the kitchen is not. Still, he doesn’t bother you; he lets you get your crackers and retire to the edge of the counter across from him to snack, and he doesn’t say a word.

“Are you always so quiet?” You gesture vaguely at the slight shape of him. “Is it just part of the job?”

Keegan laughs, more to himself than in response to you. “Sure.”

✧ He is, generally, pretty quiet. His usual demeanor is laid-back and observant; if he’s not under stress, though, and you start talking to him, he’ll respond almost always with something mildly sarcastic. You come to learn that he isn’t actually boring. He’s got a quick sense of occasionally-dark humor. Sometimes he laughs at his own jokes—usually after he’s started to walk away from you. He’s fiercely protective of the Ghosts and any recruits training near or with them. He also doesn’t seem to mind you.

✧ You’d hesitate to say you two were friends — it always seemed like there was something in between you, though you couldn’t name what — but you were friendly, and it was nice.

✧ During group dinners, he’d stand against the wall behind you. Or across from you, though usually doing that meant that he’d make a game out of trying to get you to squirm under his constant staring. He’d run into you late-night in the kitchen and make casual, not uncomfortable, small talk. Hell, at one point he offered you a drink post-training and made a sort of point to always offer you one whenever you had returned to base and were lingering around in the later hours.

✧ After a particularly long day, you find him in the kitchen, just drinking straight from the bottle. He offers you the thing — he seems more than a little tipsy, but when you decline (he’s been drinking directly from it, and…the fuck does army hygiene look like?) he sort of half-laughs and says, sarcastically, “What d’you look so horrified for? Too good to share a bottle, princess?” and then he immediately excused himself afterward.

✧ You know that saying, “drunk words are sober thoughts”? Yeah. Yeah.

✧ i need the fatty part of keegans thigh in my mouth right now i need to bite it i need to bite it and go rrrrrahrhrahrah like a fucking rabid dog

[newnitz]

I saw your whole post about "Dominating the indomitable" and like no, it's that Jewish people act like they are literally the only group who have ever been oppressed, and how all other forms of oppression are actually antisemitism, and how as a result of this Jewish people can never ever perpetuate oppression against other groups. Horrible things have happened to Jewish people in the past therefore any criticism of the actions of Jewish people now is antisemitic, and even TALKING ABOUT the groups who were affected on a smaller scale during The Holocaust is antisemitic, actually. Jewish people, particularly in online spaces, demand solidarity with other minority groups but *insist* that your problems are the only ones that matter. And yet - False accusations of Antisemitism are constantly deployed en-masse, particularly with regard to Israel, to justify doing heinous fucking shit and to treat genocide as though it's in some way complicated. I'm from the UK, and for twelve years we had upper class asshole politicians saying every racist thing you could imagine about Muslims and literally nothing came of it. Then we had a left wing candidate for Prime Minister who criticised Israel ONCE, and the accusations of Antisemitism that followed instantly killed his career. While Antisemitism is real and is a problem a lot of Jewish people are perfectly happy to allow the Right Wing grifters who perpetrate Antisemitism to weaponise it in their name against people they don't like. You deny that you have ANY privelige relative to other religious minority groups and yet accusations of Antisemitism are the only kind that seem to be consistently taken seriously, even when they're overtly bullshit. But it's also the fact that as minority religious groups in the west go a LOT of Jewish people are rich white people, and the Jewish community as a whole refuses to in any way acknowledge the privelige that comes with that because "I'm not white I'm Jewish" as though you can't be both. Like literally right now, a nation of Jewish people are slaughtering a nation of Muslims on the grounds that being Jewish just makes them inherently entitled to the land those Muslims are on. We're seeing Jewish people commit horrific acts of violence and dehumanisation against the people of Palestine on the basis of their religion - we're seeing Israelis posing with dead or dying Palestinians, laughing at them as they bleed out in the street. But everyone in the west is willing to treat the situation as complicated specifically because the Israelis are Jewish and the Palestinians are Muslim - and yet people like you still feel comfortable acting as though Jewish people could NEVER possibly commit imperialism, could NEVER do anything wrong, could NEVER fall into the same sort of colonialist, bigoted attitudes as other groups, because unlike those other groups you simply know better. And Jewish people are STILL acting like they're the ones most affected by what the Israelis are doing to the Palestinians, like this is a bigger problem for some white American jewish person than the people actually LIVING in Palestine right now, because a few people are using the situation as an excuse to be Antisemitic.

So in this anon we have, in order of appearance:

"Jews talk about their oppression too much"

"Jews weaponize antisemitism"

Holocaust universalization

Holocaust inversion

"But whatabout the antisemitism on the right???"

"Jews are just a religion"

"Jews are white"

"Chosen people(derogatory)"

And you don't think there's a cultural antisemitism problem? Worst of all, you don't think you're part of the problem? You just exemplified it with this word vomit made of the copium you take as a culture to justify your millennia-long attempt to exterminate us. Because this shit did NOT begin with the Holocaust. It began with us being stolen from our land, with almost a million of our ancestors' brothers and sisters genocided in the attempt, brought to Europe as Roman slaves, then running from place to place to flee the attempts to finish us off, all the while your holy wars with the Muslims saw our tiny remaining population massacred and dispossessed under most management, with our ancestors funding their return to their own cities, with what little money they could scrounge up between their own escapes and expulsions, because no one else would.

Now, to deconstruct your rancid takes:

"Jewish people act like they are literally the only group who have ever been oppressed, and how all other forms of oppression are actually antisemitism" - That is factually, demonstratively false. Jews as a whole do not claim anti-Black racism or the genocides perpetuated against the indigenous people of Turtle Island are because of antisemitism, because while those two occurred concurrently neither fueled the other. They existed independently. The Holocaust was perpetuated primarily against Jews and Roma. No other group lost >50% of their population under that. Jews were more loudly hated because we greatly outnumbered and still greatly outnumber Roma. There was ethnic cleansing of Poles in some places but no concentrated effort of extermination, as those who cooperated with the genocides of Jews and Roma were safe. You cannot genocide an identity outside an ethnic group or race(which in most cases is a derivative of an ethnic group), but the crimes committed against queer people and political rivals were a much lower priority than the extermination of all Jews and Roma. The Holocaust IS about us and to say otherwise is both antisemitic and anti-Romani.

"how as a result of this Jewish people can never ever perpetuate oppression against other groups." - That is a fringe opinion, and there are massive intracommunity discussions about how we as a whole can and should do better towards other marginalized people, show solidarity unconditionally and so on. It's just not visible to you because the only time you engage with our community is as a threat to our existence.

"Jewish people, particularly in online spaces, demand solidarity with other minority groups but *insist* that your problems are the only ones that matter." Again you are factually incorrect. Jews have been overrepresented in the Civil Rights movement and have been part of the left for centuries at this point. We demand "solidarity" in not perpetuating antisemitic stereotypes, i.e not being actively racist against us so that we can feel safe backing them up as they combat racism against them, which should be the bare minimum. And we've been failed repeatedly as the left and right take on the same flavor of antisemitism.

"False accusations of Antisemitism are constantly deployed en-masse," Who are YOU to say which accusations are false? Which other minority group is assumed to lie about racism until it's proven beyond any shadow of the most unreasonable doubt to be telling the truth?

"particularly with regard to Israel, to justify doing heinous fucking shit and to treat genocide as though it's in some way complicated." There is no genocide. Killing tens of thousands of combatants and civilians in a 1:1 ratio out of a population of 2 million is not a genocide, it's a war. And considering the hellish medium of urban warfare, it's an exceptionally well-managed one. Most importantly, it's a war Israel has been actively avoiding for 17 years until the 7th of October.

"Then we had a left wing candidate for Prime Minister who criticised Israel ONCE" Jeremy Corbyn did more than that. He didn't "criticize Israel" he buddied up with Hezbollah ffs

"While Antisemitism is real and is a problem a lot of Jewish people are perfectly happy to allow the Right Wing grifters who perpetrate Antisemitism to weaponise it in their name against people they don't like." And you're pretending these grifters aren't called out? It's called a "broken clock", and every accusation of antisemitism needs to be investigated. Right now you're excusing your own leftist antisemitism with whataboutism.

"You deny that you have ANY privelige relative to other religious minority groups" - We are not just a religious minority. Jews are an ethnoreligious minority, with most Jews coming from at least one Jewish parent. Outside the US and countries with very small Jewish populations, most Jews come from two Jewish parents, and before the 60s it was almost all Jews. Intermarriage in the US only began with the state-led push towards assimilation following the end of WWII.

"and yet accusations of Antisemitism are the only kind that seem to be consistently taken seriously" Really? Because I haven't seen them being taken seriously by leftists.

"a LOT of Jewish people are rich white people" Whiteness is not conditional. Whiteness does not depend on passing yourself off as something else. Whiteness protects you from having your name, facial features or accent be a reason for lynching, being refused job offers or interrogated by security forces for going about your everyday life. Rich people of many other ethnicities are privileged in comparison to the rest of their community, and that doesn't make them "white". And do you even know how many Jews are rich and white-passing? Especially in countries where Jews didn't assimilate, didn't intermarry?

"Like literally right now, a nation of Jewish people are slaughtering a nation of Muslims on the grounds that being Jewish just makes them inherently entitled to the land those Muslims are on." Again factually false. Israel is counter-attacking the terrorist organization who invaded its territory, raped and murdered men women and children and took hundreds of hostages, and since said terrorist org hides among civilians civilians get killed in the crossfire. It's about religion from Hamas' side, which is what I referred to in the post. There's no "belief that we're inherently entitled", there's a fuckton of archeological evidence showing that we've been living in that land for thousands of years and we want the self-determination that was stolen from us, and Muslims, with their need to dominate the entire Middle East, don't vibe with that.

[lamentofabramo]

Hi I was wondering if you could write a short fic of Jack Nyras (eyeless jack) stalking the reader, from his perspective trying to find a good moment to grab them inconspicuously

this is shit asf icl i apologise <3 MINORS DNI

EYELESS JACK

Why the fuck were you so damn hard to catch alone?

"Can't be normal, have they caught on..?" Jack mumbles to himself, throwing down his barely-smoked cigarette. He couldn't be bothered finishing the rest even if he could, the black tar ruined his joy of smoking as soon as it started becoming evident that leaning forward would cause his eyes to drip all over anything and everything.

He was worried now, anyway. You seemed like an easy target at the start, always alone, always being some sort of loser hiding in the shadows.

"I'm one to talk." He scoffed to himself, feeling the irony in his words. He was a monster now, not stupid. That could be seen just as well in his murders, so well done people imagined some crazed doctor had snapped and gone on a spree. He didn't particularly mean to kill those people, just like how he didn't want to kill you. But when push comes to shove he knows what he'd want in a situation where it became 'you' or him. He was strong anyway, he shouldn't be so hesitant about killing you where you stand. He'd used almost every excuse in the book: Last week when you were at the bar, He'd come up with the excuse that you wouldn't taste too good with Alcohol running through your veins, no matter how easy it would be just to take you away and blame it on the indecent muck around these parts.

Last month when you were all alone in that park you frequented, hell you tripped over a fuckin' branch and fell flat on your face. You seemed to be clumsy enough to kill yourself if you weren't careful. That's when he convinced himself he could wait until you did it on your own accord.

Last year, When he first met you, All alone in the forest like an idiot. You were looking for something, he couldn't even remember what it was. He didn't care, all he wanted was something to feast on. But that look on your face just reminded him of the stupid bitch who started all of this, Not that he wasn't over her or anything but just the rogue adventuristic look in your eyes as you climbed around the foliage got him in someplace he'd describe as his heart.

'Did he even have a heart anymore..?' He wondered, lifting a clawed hand up to his chest, he didn't particularly have the time to check that, nor would he ever probably. It was too much of a human thing to worry about.

He shook his head, realising for the good past minute he'd been thinking about you instead of trying to figure out which tree was closest to your bedroom window.

Maybe this way he'd be able to overcome this weird barrier he had, charging right into your place of sanctity, instead of being so damn passive about it all.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

thoughts on bangelus?

Love it!! Iconic!! Showstopping!!

The Angelus arc is literally the thing that made me actually like BTVS! I was watching it with a fair amount of disinterest as just a thing to half pay attention to in the background. The emotional fraughtness and tragedy goes so hard!

I used to honestly not give a shit about Bangel beyond incidentally how it matters to Buffy. but also idk something has been Happening to me in the last six months and I have been like… clicking through the Bangel tag every once in awhile to look at gifsets lol

I do think Bangel only works with Bangelus on the other side of it though. My general BTVS soapbox is that, first of all, the way they handle souls and vampires is fucking stupid and wildly inconsistent. They just keep breaking their own worldbuilding. But beyond that, that the Angelus arc should’ve frankly culminated in the acknowledgment that like Angel was the blip, the anomaly, and Angelus was the real person. That’s who he’s been for fucking centuries but also on top of that, it more closely aligns with who we see him to be as a human. He has always been a piece of shit awful person and he needs to fucking confront it! Just because he got briefly cursed into developing the pretenses of a moral compass and a shred of empathy it doesn’t mean that actually changed who he is

If we ever wanted to redeem him legit, I think he needed to work his way up from the Angelus persona, even if the culmination of that is simply for him to eventually choose to stay Angel

Anyway the one episode where the ghosts of a teacher and student couple, who died by murder suicide, possess them is honestly one of my favorites. I like Bangel in general more where there’s more acknowledgement of its unsavory elements. But then there’s the bit right afterwards that I really love where, it’s mostly played as a joke, but Angelus, having come back to himself, is like rinsing his mouth out and visibly really bothered by the whole thing. It’s a good microcosm of his reaction to his history with Buffy while-being-Angel. I really like the dynamic where he hates Buffy specifically because she had the audacity to infect him with feelings. That his vindictiveness towards her is a reflection of his disgust for that softer, weaker version of himself. But then he also looks back at it sometimes with a sort of revolted longing because… it was kind of nice to be loved

I like the idea of Angelus as someone who was terrible to begin with! Who then used the excuse of vampirism to become an incredibly prolific serial killer. It isn’t the lack of a soul that made him horrific, or that his demon (stupid worldbuilding!!!) was somehow just exponentially worse than the demons other vampires get. It’s a product of who he was as a human, the values Darla instilled in him as his maker, and then the power and the ability to act with a complete lack of inhibition or consequences that becoming a supernatural creature allowed him. And being forced to think outside of that perspective and to remember that seems to be incredibly disruptive for him

The Judge was one of the weakest Big Bads, but conceptually, I think it’s really interesting that Angelus is literally just self destructing the minute he’s back to his evil self. It’s played off a little as like “he’s evil! of course he wants to end the world” but that hasn’t... ever been his modus operandi? He’s centuries old. If killing himself or ending the world was a high priority I do not think he would’ve made it that long!

Anyway, as for Buffy’s side, I find her turmoil SO SAD but also really compelling. SMG’s acting is so fucking gutting. And the hardening she goes through by the end of the arc is really fun. I would love a hypothetical scenario where Angelus recedes to minor antagonist status or flees for whatever reason. And she just has to like… sit with that emotionally. (That being said I think the sending Angel to hell arc and getting him back from hell arc are really fun so idk how I’d reconcile that but the question was about Bangelus specifically so we don’t have to figure that out rn)

The obvious metaphor the show was going for of like the teen experience of finding out that the person you slept with is terrible, after having been so vulnerable with them, is one that works for me! But I also like how the dynamic literalizes the compartmentalization of loving someone who’s cruel and hurtful. Of not being able to reconcile that they can be capable of such different behavior, but also the undercurrent that it’s maybe not so different after all. Like the Bangel situation is creepy, has always been creepy, though it’s not entirely framed that way. And I really like that Drusilla’s introduction, and the backstory of how Angelus stalked and tormented her, and then the entire Angelus arc where he stalks and torments Buffy, do have the undertones of Angel’s behavior when he’s first introduced and how his relationship with Buffy develops. He was still a fucking stalker! Even if he was a somewhat nicer one lol. He was still playing mind games even if it wasn’t full on psychological warfare. And then there’s obviously how young Buffy was. Like even at his fucking best that man is still a predator lol and lmao

[alexandriastark76]

What is haunting alison or whatever it was in your tags?

Thank you for asking! I’ve been waiting to rant about this for a while now!

Beware though, dear OP cause we go into a deep dive about abusive behaviours, non consensual acts, stalking, obsessive behaviour, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, rape, and overall graphic themes which (sarcastically) is dark romance for you.

Please do not go further if you are a minor or are triggered by heavy topics like these

Stay safe <3

So, Haunting Adeline is a mature themed book written by H. D. Carlton.

According to the summary at the back, this is what you get:

The Diamond.

Death walks alongside me but the reaper is no match for me. I'm trapped in a world full of monsters dressed as men, and those who aren't as they seem. They won't keep me forever. I no longer recognize the person I've become. And I'm fighting to find my way back to the beast who hunts me in the night. They call me a diamond. But they've only created an angel of death.

The Hunter.

I was born a predator, with ruthlessness ingrained in my bones, when what's mine is stolen from me in the night, like a diamond hidden within a fortress. I find that I can no longer contain the beast. Blood will paint the ground as I tear apart this world to find her, and bring her back to where she belongs. No one will escape my wrath, especially not those who have betrayed me.

(In my opinion, this already gets very cliche but let’s carry on I guess)

Actual summary however, is:

The book is about how Adeline forms a “relationship” with her stalker while she discovers who killed her great-grandmother (who also had a stalker), while from the stalker's point of view, he is looking for an organization that kills children while stalking and searching.

This isn’t bad, per se, but it is a very hypocritical setting for what happens later on.

Now, as we move onwards with the book, we see that Adeline Reilly lives in her gran’s house where she is being stalked by her stalker Zade Meadows. She seemingly goes on date (and has sex) with a guy who (she doesn’t know about it though) is a very intimately involved personnel in a child trafficking ring. Zade knows this, so, he kills him (if i recall correctly), cuts his hand off and mails it to Adeline with a rose and warns her to not go on a date anymore.

This happens a couple of times, her doing things (not specifically just going on dates, because she doesn’t go on dates anymore either) that grates him, and so on.

Direct excerpts:

This isn’t disturbing, at least according to the range of ‘dark romance’.

But this is where it gets bad.

One day, Zade comes over blinded by rage that Adeline let another man touch what is “his” aka Adeline herself (let’s not even talk about how dehumanising that is), and rapes her.

And I’m saying rape, because there is no other word with which you can describe it.

He walks in dead of the night, holds her at gunpoint and forces her to undress and then forces himself on her. And proceeds to assault her with that very gun.

Excerpt if you want:

This is where shit gets disturbing and frankly, disgusting, even by the dark romance standards.

Note that I keep saying the dark romance standards because readers have a habit to excuse such behaviours and actions by claiming that it is “dark romance” this is what means to read “dark” romance. That such disturbing themes are going to be there, and we should’ve “read the trigger warnings”.

Now, one might wonder, that there should not be any issue with CNC, but, let’s go back.

The question that rises is, is it truly CNC?

CNC is a kink among the BDSM community, which features Consensual Non Consent.

CNC, is a role play of sorts, which has pre-discussed boundaries, safewords, and proper communication between the people taking part in it. Which, might I remind, did not happen.

Zade storms in, there is no discussion, and assaults the girl who he calls “his” by the way.

Common argument against this made by fans are, “Adeline liked it, so it isn’t actually non consent.” Does reading Exhibit 5 make you feel like she liked it? She literally describes it as:

“My body is full of rage, humiliation, and shame—I know this. But it’s like my brain can’t process those emotions, so it’s just choosing to feel nothing at all.

Is this what trauma does? Knowing you’ve been violated but your body chooses to go numb instead?”

I beg your finest pardon but this does not sound like a person having enjoyed a deliberate sexual assault.

Finally we come to the topic that what is the issue of people with this book.

People, fans, readers, are not only idolising this behaviour (stalking, the apparent “CNC” and the rough way of assault) and before anyone comes to blab that “no one is idolising this blah blah blah”— one simple search on YouTube, Instagram, TikTok and the BikerTok apparently with Haunting Adeline edits will show you how much teenage girls and other people are fawning over a rapist. (If you still have doubts that Zade is not a rapist simply on the account that he helped trafficking victims, then you need to seriously re evaluate your moralities)

Such toxic/stalking behaviours have been labelled “sexy and hot” which frankly disgusts me that there are so many young people seeing this and becoming susceptible to abuse and toxicity.

No one wants to ban this book, we simply want people to stop romanticising it. What he does is not right, and to hold that shitty behaviour on high accord simply because the Stockholm Syndrome setting sets a rapist and his victim together, does not make it right. Real life stalkers are not pretty or sexy, why should we not hold the fictional ones accountable and then?

People will torch up actual morally grey characters for much less and then go lust over a fucking rapist.

Just because other readers are holding him accountable and criticising him does not make them snowflakes, it makes you look like a fan blind to the pretty privilege.

Booktok has developed a bad reputation because of readers like these, and considering most of the booktok does act as an apologist, it isn’t wrong to say that most of the booktok is ignorant to such characters and their atrocities.

In conclusion, we don’t want to censor the book, or criticise rhetoric writer for writing themes like these, it isn’t the worst of the “dark romance”, we simply want the author to tag it properly (it was NOT CNC) and for readers to not romanticise a rapist.

Hope that answers your question OP! Also, note that when I said You so many times, it was simply about the fans of this book series.

<3

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Too little too late (no minors)

Alastor x F!reader x semi Lucifer

Chapter 2

~This hole you put me in, Wasn't' deep enough

And I'm climbing out right now, You're running out of places to hide from me.~

*******************************************

"That bitch doesn't know everything I've done for her. Who does she think she is, doesn't she know all I have sacrificed for her?” The small contents that had been resting on the dashboard in his radio tower now fell onto the floor with a loud crash. He grabbed at his hair, grunting between gritted teeth.

“How fucking dare she?? And with all people him? That pretentious little shit excuse for a king?”. He slid to the floor, claws digging into his hair, trickles of blood trailing down along the sides of his face. What was he going to do? He can't kill the king of hell.. as much as he would love to. He would enjoy tearing the pathetic smile from his lips, ripping his chest open, deflating the smug hot air that puffed from his chest.

Did he know you the way he did? Did he know the way you loved tea with more milk than sugar? The way you hated the hot summer days but loved the warm summer nights. Did he know you've already read every book in the library 10 times and still had something new to say about them? Did he know how you loved your neck licked? Especially the small part close to your collarbone. Oh, the idea of his slimy snake tongue worming its way along your perfectly soft skin, ripping those sweet small gasps from your throat…. Those sounds were for him and him alone. How dare you how FUCKING dare you. That idea alone turned his blood cold, his horns protruding from his head, his eyes transforming into details.

He tried to steady his breathing, and collect his thoughts..his eyes darted back and forth scanning the room..he was lost in his sadness and pure unfiltered rage. Wait.. you never said you didn't love him anymore, you said you can't! Why can't you?? Were you in some sort of deal?? With Lucifer??? Oh Lucifer didn't know who he was up against, no if he assumed he would go quietly he was more stupid than he looked.

The mindset he was in at the moment, he barely cares how this situation would affect his standing with Charlie, I'll rip her fucking throat out too if she gets in my way..y/n belongs to me we promised each other. Maybe she's forgotten that maybe I have to remind her of her promise.

His eyes snapped up his hands, finally leaving his sore and abused scalp. "Yes, yes that's it, she just needs a reminder, it's ok my darling it's ok I'll forgive you, we can fix this". He stood, laughter ripping from his throat, gritty and deranged. "Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming it's time you were reminded, reminded where you belong. Whatever this situation is, I can remove you from it. I can fix it". His large smile returned, not meeting his crazed eyes. Grabbing his microphone, his shadow appeared at his side displaying the same maddened smile, mirroring his masters as they both melted into the shadows.

“Darling, is something wrong with the food?” “hm?” “I asked if something was wrong with the food. You've hardly taken a bite! I can order something else” You weren't sure how long you had been pushing your pasta around with your fork in the dim restaurant Lucifer had taken you to this evening. You also weren't sure how long he had been talking, ranting about Charlie and ducks and overlords.

Your mind was still focused on the conversation with Alastor earlier, the look in his eyes when you had left. You could have sworn you heard a sniffle behind you as you turned and left the room leaving him alone. “No! No, everything is fine!” You lifted your head off the hand you had resting on the table. Moving your fork once again you forced yourself to take a bite, pushing past your nauseousness that had settled in your stomach.

Lucifer eyed you suspiciously, pushing away his place he reached over the table clasping your free hand on his. He ran a thumb over the back of your hand sighing. “Sweetheart please, I can tell something is on your mind, why won't you just tell me? Let me help you lighten your load?”. You looked up at him, his sweet fanged smile, his rosy cheeks and soft kind eyes underneath light purple eyelids. He was truly handsome, the most handsome in hell some would say.

You felt the hot sharp pain of guilt creeping into your stomach, it felt like you had swallowed sandpaper, causing it to suck all the moisture from your throat. Why did you feel this way? You haven't cheated on him, you haven't done anything! You told Alastor it was over between you both, so why did you feel so guilty?.

“I'm ok Luci, truly I think I'm just tired, it was a long day at the hotel that's all! I'm fine”. you squeezed his hand back reassuringly offering him a small smile that didn't meet your eyes. You're lying he thought but he wouldn't push it, not now not here. “You know I am too! What do you say we get the check and head home?”. He looked over to the waiter waving them down. You nodded, not answering him, returning to your thoughts. You had to let Alastor go, it was the right thing to do, you could be happy with Luci, he was an amazing man and he's always treated you with respect, he was kind, funny and handsome anyone would be lucky to be with him.

You didn't speak as you stood watching him pay the check. You slipped on your thin cardigan, pulling it around you almost protectively. “Ready to go hon?” His hands wrapped around your waist pulling you into a side hug, as the bright portal to your shared home opened before you. Walking through you tossed your purse on the floor next to the bed before beginning to undress, you could hear Lucifer faintly in the distance putting the leftovers in the fridge.

This night had exhausted you, you couldn't help but wonder what Alastor was currently up to. Was he angry? Taking it out on some poor innocent sinner somewhere in the streets of the pride ring? Was he sad, was he.. with someone else.. in an attempt to forget your body; lying above another? That thought.. the picture of him touching, feeling, kissing another. Oh it hurt and it hurt bad, but you knew you had no right to be hurt. You had told what you told him earlier and the cards lay where they may.

“Feeling any better?” Their hands in his white jacket pocket, large hats already discarded Lucifer signed standing in the doorway observing your body language. “Did everything go ok at the hotel today? Did something happen?"Crossing the room over, he wrapped his arms around your waist nuzzling into your shoulder. You set your hands on his looking back at him. “No, I promise I'm ok just a long day, thank you for dinner”. You pressed a small kiss to his nose, pulling out of his grasp to finish undressing.

He retreated to a chair next to him, and beginning to remove his shoes he looked up at you, watching you remove your layers slowly. You eyed him in the mirror behind you. “What?” You lightly chuckled meeting his eyes. He shrugged “Just admiring my beautiful fiance is all” his eyes lowered, his forked snake tongue protruding to moisten his lips. You were so beautiful and sexy..neither of you had taken the plunge and fully made love yet, opting to take things slow, but Lucifer was growling impatient. His need to discover how delicious your nectar would truly be was starting to drive him mad. And watching you now undressing before him was torture, the elegant curve of your back, the sway of your hips.. the curls in your hair rippling down your back as you removed your hairpins.

You felt shy under his gaze, exposed and vulnerable. You very childishly felt guilty again. Your thoughts floated to Alastor, you had promised him no man would ever see this way but him. “Say it” his words were staggered, broken as he pumped into you “Say it. “I'm yours Alastor” Eyes rolled back fists clenching his scared tan skin “It's all for you I promise only for you” “Yes” his head scanned your face, clawed hands holding your cheeks so softly so tender “Only for me”.

Holding back the tears that had started to form in the corner of your eyes you pushed that memory away, You discreetly whipped your eyes hoping Lucifer wouldn't notice, you fake smiled back at him over your shoulder “You're so sweet, my king”. You crossed over to the drawer pulled out a nightgown and continued your undressing, you were used to his eyes now always watching and lingering over your body. He raised from his seat behind to undress and change himself.

You took the opportunity to retreat to the bathroom, you splashed some cold water on your face taking in deep breaths. You had to hold it together; this was your life now. Heading back towards the bedroom you hoped that Lucifer would be preoccupied with whatever new project he was currently interested in so you could get some sleep without any further explanation.

To your luck, though he was waiting on the bed for you arms outstretched, “Come here my dear cuddle with me” You crawled in next to him letting him engulf you in his embrace. “I know I sound like a broken record” his thumb lightly rubbing on your arm “but please talk to me when something is bothering you, let me try and help share your load”. You looked up at him and signed “I know and thank you I promise I'm ok for now, maybe a little stressed with all the projects going on at the hotel”. “Has Alastor been giving you trouble?”

The mention of his name was a sharp poker through your heart, you gripped your bottom lip between your teeth shaking your head side to side “Na uh”. Closing your eyes you attempted to drift off to sleep when you felt Lucifer move next to you, soon he was moving down the bed and you felt your nightgown slowly lifting, your eyes shot open “Luci? What are you doing?” He was adjusting himself by your thighs running a hand softly over them. “I know we agreed to take things slow but I wanted to try and make you feel better if you don't mind” his sly smile reaching his half-lidded eyes.

You didn't want him to eat you out, but you also knew if he was to be your husband you would have to get used to his touch. Lucifer wasn't a bad man, a cruel man or anything of the sort, he was on all counts a great man and a great choice of husband. Your body thought your body knew what and who you wanted, but once again you pushed that feeling down. “oh ah sure” you answered in a shaky voice holding your hands in a clasp by your torso. “Thank you” he chuckled “No need to thank me, love, I should be thankful for you allowing me to partake in such an enjoyable activity” he winked at you before spreading your legs slowly. He started to kiss up your leg slowly humming contently.

Despite your best efforts your mind began to wander to past experiences. “Such smooth soft skin my darling” Alastor was kissing and lightly sucking slowly pressing his nose into your leg as he crept up your leg. You squirmed happily, his touch was electrical, lighting up every part of you. His large clawed hands slowly pulled your legs apart, pressing his face into your womanhood and inhaling your sweet scent, “hmmm delicious”

You felt him hook a claw into the band of your panties pulling them down and off your legs, he hooked your legs over his shoulder, claws digging into your thighs, he smiled at you a smile like he had seen the most delectable dessert in his life. He licked a long deep stripe against your lower region causing you to gasp and grip the sheets. “Oh fuck, I love you” You felt him chuckle against your skin “I love you too my firefly” before diving back into your sweet juices.

“Wait! Wait wait I'm sorry” Your whole body seized in response to Lucifer’s hands slowing opening your lap, he froze and looked up with apologetic eyes, he sat back on his heels, “Oh Gods I'm so sorry, this was probably too soon I don't mean to rush you I'm ok waiting!” He pulled back your nightgown over your legs and crawled back to lay next to you, “Please forgive me we agreed to take things slow I just wanted to help make you feel better”. You ran your hands down your face, you felt guilty he shouldn't be apologizing to you, here he was trying to give you pleasure while you think of another man. “No don't be sorry I just I am really tired I'm not feeling up to it right now” You turned over and patted his arm “But thank you for wanting to truly Luci I think I just want to get some sleep”. He hooked his arm around you nesting into the pillows comfortably. “Ok my love, yeah it's time for bed for me too”. You both snuggled into the comfortable blankets and leaned on his chest, hearing the soft pitter patter of his heart and slow breath. Soon he passed out lightly snoring and content.

You however could not sleep. Peeling his arm off you, you slinked out of bed grabbed your robe and headed outside to the gardens. Sitting on a chair in the warm night air, you let the tears fall. “Oh Alastor”, you whispered to yourself “Oh how I miss you”. You held your face in your hands trying to muffle the sounds of your cries. You were so distracted you didn't notice the dark shadow appearing behind you and the tentacles slowly encasing your body"Hello my firefly".

Hope you all enjoyed reading! Please feel free to re-blog but not without credit ❤️

[dcficrecs]

I'm a Good Pretender

By on shipNslash on AO3

I just finished the first chapter of this, so my apologies if the rest of the fic isn't as good, but the last line of the first chapter was actually so genius I had to share. Minor spoilers for how Dick finds out Bruce is Batman, I guess. Although everyone knows that he does find out eventually, so the only spoiler is how. In this scene, Batman is interrogating Tony Zucco's old cellmate. He refuses to talk and Batman just knocks him out.

The whimpering tapers off until it's just blubbering and then nothing but unconscious breathing. Batman drops him with a sigh, stopping only to zip tie his hands to his apartment radiator.

What a waste of his time-

Creak.

Batman freezes, melting into the shadows out of instinct more than any sort of training. He peeks around the corner, ready for- for…

For anything but that.

Crawling in through the seventh story apartment window is a young Richard Grayson, dark jeans and black hoodie the only thing separating him from the glittering Gotham backdrop of flickering street lamps and red and blue sirens. He pads across the creaky floor on silent feet and stops only when he sees the unconscious resident.

The boy mutters something in an unfamiliar language but it's clearly a swear.

Bruce, never one to waste a dramatic entrance, steps forward a foot. "It's a little late to be out of bed, Richard Grayson," he whispers, voice still as loud as a gunshot in the silence.

"Câcat!" To his credit, when the kid jumps three feet in the air, he lands without a sound. Even more impressively, he doesn't have any other reaction besides for dropping a hand almost imperceptibly into his pocket- a weapon? "Holy fuck. You're Batman."

He cocks his head to the side, trying to get a clearer shot with his contacts. "Yes. How’d you scale seven flights of an exposed building?”

"I’m good at climbing,” the boy says dismissively. “You know my name. Why?" Chin tilted back, eyes a bright splash of anger in the dark- Richard is more confident in this moment than Bruce Wayne has ever been in his entire life.

Instead of answering, Batman nudges the man between them with his boot. "I know it's not a coincidence that you're here. What was your plan?" He's burning with curiosity.

"I- I was going to make him tell me where Tony Zucco is. I know he killed my parents and the last person he associated with was this piece of shit." Richard sounds angry. Fascinating. "What'd you do? He’s not dead, is he?"

"I don't kill people, Richard."

"Stop saying my fucking name unless you tell me how you know it."

Bold.

"Your face has been in the news a lot lately. I've been trying to solve your case."

The kid seems to crumple. "...why? The police obviously don't give a shit."

"That's not true. It's not exactly police procedure to discuss the details of a double homicide with the couple’s orphaned eleven year old." Bruce almost winces -that wasn't good socializing- but Batman doesn't care about those types of things so, for now, neither does Bruce.

Richard doesn't seem to care either. "First I'm going to catch him and then I'm going to kill him. And if you think anything is going to stop me, you're not as smart as they say," he spits out.

Bruce almost laughs, if only in disbelief. Who is this kid?

Instead, he pages Gordon with the address. There's usually an officer patrolling this block. "Listen, kid-"

"Dick."

"Excuse me?"

"My name." God, Bruce feels like he's looking in a mirror. For all that the boy doesn't look anything like an eleven year old Bruce Wayne, that burning rage is achingly familiar. "Nobody in this stupid fucking city might care about me, but I have a name and it's not Richard," he spits like a swear. "It's Dick. Dick Grayson."

Okay, now you know how he met Batman. Here's how he met Bruce (The second time, anyway. The first is at the circus, after his parents' murders). And for context, Miss Lopez is Dick's social worker. More context is that Alfred met with Dick at the orphanage and said that Bruce offered to buy Dick's parents' trailer and all their belongings and give it to Dick whenever he was ready.

Carefully pulling on a more refined accent (Mama loves southern France, she thinks their dialect is ‘fancy’), he jerks to his feet and gasps. “Mister Pennyworth! You came!”

“I told you I would,” the old man says simply, pushing the door all the way open.

And behind him stands-

“Do you remember Mister Wayne, Richard?”

Dick almost collapses under the weight of-

Strong arms, wrestling him to the ground. “Don’t look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just don’t look.”

So, yeah, maybe he’s off his game a little, but the first thing that pops out of Dick’s mouth is, “you don’t look like a billionaire.”

Mister Pennyworth laughs in a distinctly British way while said billionaire makes a face that Dick would hazard to describe as a pout. “It’s early,” he mumbles, shoving his pale hands into the pouch of his hoodie.

Aw hell, Dick thinks and suddenly feels guilty. Even though he really shouldn't because it’s true. He’s dressed like a homeless person, layers of old clothes and mismatched aesthetics, and he even has a ratty backpack over his shoulders. Shouldn’t a billionaire have someone to carry his stuff for him?

They’re saved from the awkwardness by Miss Lopez, who sweeps into the room in her usual chaotic way, her stupidly big bag overflowing with all the stuff she never seems to need.

She doesn’t even acknowledge the two men already in the room. “Really, Richard? Again?” She asks, sounding so tired.

“I’m sorry,” Dick whimpers. (He’s not). “I won’t do it again, Miss Lopez, I swear!” (He will.)

He watches her deflate. “Oh, Richard. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Can’t I just go back to-”

“Please don’t bring up the circus again-”

“But it’s where I belong-”

Mister Wayne interrupts, his voice painfully quiet. (Mama says enunciation makes the difference between talking and speaking.) “I'll take him.”

…what?

Dick and Miss Lopez both freeze. She just now seems to realize that they’re not alone and Dick can pinpoint the exact moment she recognizes who’s standing in front of her.

“Oh my god. You’re- Oh my god. Hello, Mister Wayne!” She gushes, the hand not holding up her stupidly big bag reaching up to swipe at her hair.

Mister Wayne doesn’t exactly look like the type of person to judge someone for a bad hair day but even Dick feels the urge to fidget under the weirdly intense stare. He knows better, though, and keeps himself perfectly still while Miss Lopez and Mister Pennyworth start talking about things like state certified foster homes and mandatory wait periods and generous donations.

He follows along with that side of the conversation with perfect ease. People with enough money can do whatever they want and Mister Wayne has ‘more money than God’ according to the cop who brought him in. The only thing he doesn’t understand is…

“Why?” He asks when there’s a lull in the conversation.

Intense eyes lock onto him. “Hm?”

“Why are you offering to help me?” Dick asks. He knows he’s blowing his act. The optimistic orphan would never look a gift horse in the mouth. But he just doesn’t get it. “You don’t even know me.”

Mister Wayne shifts so that he’s facing Dick head on instead of Miss Lopez and Mister Pennyworth, who are looking over a thick legal document. “You don’t have to. I’ll still help in any way I can. If you'd rather try a different foster home, I'll pay for a lawyer,” he murmurs and Dick gets the impression that this is more talking than Mister Wayne has done in a long time.

To be fair, he seems harmless. Dick doubts he’s a pervert or something. There are plenty of less famous orphans he could have snatched up if all he wants is to cop a feel. And he definitely isn’t a good actor, so this has to be at least a little genuine.

When Dick doesn’t answer, Mister Wayne sighs and crouches so that they’re almost eye level. He’s very tall and Dick is very not tall, okay? And he doesn’t say any stupid shit either, like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or ‘how are you doing?’ that everyone else seems so insistent on. Instead, he pulls an envelope out of his backpack and offers it to Dick wordlessly..

“Um. Thanks.” Dick takes it, checking to make sure that Miss Lopez isn’t watching before opening it-

Holy fucking shit.

Mama and Papa’s faces smile back at him, a chubby cheeked Dick balancing on their shoulders in front of the Eiffel Tower.

This time, the tears in his eyes are real. “Mister Wayne…”

“I want to help, Dick,” he whispers.

There’s a long list of thoughts running through Dick’s head right now.

He’d somehow forgotten that Mister Wayne has his parent’s trailer. He wants to kiss the picture of his family, safely sealed inside of a little plastic bag. He knows that he’s going to juvie. He knows that Mister Wayne is his best chance at getting out of juvie. He knows it’ll be way easier to sneak out of some big mansion than it will be to break out of a detention center. He knows that Tony Zucco is still alive and roaming free.

But all he can think about is the fact that he’s only told one person in this god forsaken city his real name and it was Batman. So why did Bruce fucking Wayne just call him Dick?

Literally holy shit. I love obscure details that the reader can miss, sometimes is supposed to miss, becoming important later on. I sure as hell missed it.

This fic is good so far, but one thing I know I don't like is the tags saying that Dick's parents were slightly abusive. That's just too out of character for them for me. But I am really into any 'Dick Grayson becoming Robin' fics right now, so I'm trying not to be picky. If this fic does end up being good despite that, I'll probably post more excerpts here.

[watermelinoe]

Do you feel as though most lesbians on radblr (not all of course) are… you know? Like.. they progressively become more and more biphobic after months or years of being decent. I don’t know if I’m making a lot of sense, but first it was the 22v6 girl, then normallesbian, then menalez, and now heterophobicdyke too.. i know there are more examples but i’m just getting tired of the biphobia on here.. ☹️

honestly i don't think of this as a lesbian problem. afaik 22v6 wasn't a lesbian. i can't really speak on the other users you mentioned bc i don't follow them, i've seen some of the behavior i'm about to describe from some of them but they don't come to mind when i'm thinking of some of the worst things i've seen on here.

radblr in general just has an accountability issue. someone will say something biphobic (or homophobic! afaik that woman who made that homophobic pastor comparison remade and carried right along) and some people will express disapproval, but most will ignore it or try to downplay it and they'll keep interacting with that user. i'll use heterophobicdyke as an example since she's deactivated, but someone in her inbox was complaining that bi women "whine" about our rape and dv statistics, and in her response she completely brushed past it, zero acknowledgement of that being a fucked up thing to say. that's one typical radblr response. downplaying is another. but the worst imo is being accused of being manipulative.

so if we complain about being called dickmunchers on here, we may be told it's just "venting" and to log off and get real problems, but if we mention said real problems (rape and ipv statistics as well as substance abuse and mental illness statistics) then we must be weaponizing those statistics to play the victim in the great lesbian vs bisexual war that we've all been drafted in i guess. bi women are all master manipulators, obviously.

so where does that shit come from? imo, not radblr.

most deranged shit being said about bi women can be traced back to this blackpilled thing. radblr's biggest problem is that instead of saying "hey that's a deranged thing to say," the gyns are more annoyed with bi women for ~making a big deal out of it~ when WE say "hey that's a deranged thing to say." i can make a post documenting some deranged thing someone said and the two responses i will get are: "this is based actually and i hope your nigel kills you" <- some blackpill weirdo orbiting radblr who assumes i'm male-partnered, and "log off if you don't like it" "that's not a radfem" (bonus points if it's about a user that radfems regularly reblog from) <- radfems

and that's not a lesbian thing, the root is just that no one here thinks bisexuality is an oppressed sexual minority. kind of ironic for the "we totally understand class analysis" group. but if it seems worse than before, i think that's because the blackpill thing is sort of in vogue rn, especially with edgy teenagers orbiting radblr.

it would be nice if more women on here would actually stand up for bi women instead of finding a million excuses not to do so. that's what i find frustrating, personally. but it also happens with racism and homophobia all the time. i know it doesn't seem like it bc we have conflict all the fuckin time, but i actually think radblr is overall conflict-avoidant to a fault.

[kamiko1234]

*SWEARING & YAPPING AHEAD. EVERYTHING STATED HERE IS MY SUBJECTIVE OPINION AND IN NO WAY MEANT TO REFLECT THE OBJECTIVE TRUTH*

Hi yeah I just started chapter 14 and- am I the only one who sort of HATES how Thalia's being handled? And also Percy to some degree? Like- Thalia and Percy had just had this a conversation about Luke and ngl? Thalia sounded like such a selfish and entitled BITCH like!? The way she talked about "Luke's bad decisions" and that "they all have tough things to deal with" !? JUST NO! YK WHAT THALIA!? FUCK YOU! Like is she for real here? Really!? REALLY!? Like I get that Thalia is angry at Luke, and that the guy did some stupid and bad stuff but- TO ACT SO APATHETIC TO IT ALL!? LIKE HE'S ACTING UNREASONABLE OR SOMETHING!?

This isn't solely "Luke's just being a brat about something we all had to deal with". Luke's mother went INSANE. He was stuck with a mom having MENTAL FITS TO THE POINT OF HIM HAVING TO HIDE IN CLOSETS. The boy had to run away and live on the streets ALONE.

He had ZERO SUPPORT SYSTEMS IN PLACE.

For the love of GOD Thalia! Way to show you have the empathy of a STONE. And that guy was supposed to be your friend!? Not going to lie Thalia doesn't feel like someone who knows Luke in this book, even if she way mad at him. AND THEN THE COMMENT ABOUT HIM SUPPOSEDLY BEING AT FAULT FOR THEM NOT GETTING TO CAMP IN TIME 'CAUSE OF "PICKING FIGHTS WITH MONSTERS" LIKE??????? Like is the author for real right now? THAT'S what the consense is????? Last time I checked monsters were a bunch of blood thirsty LITTERAL GOD DAMN MONSTERS whose number 1 hobby is hunting and killing demigods. EVERYONE ELSE litteraly fights them ALL THE TIME.

BUT WHEN LUKE DOES IT IT'S SUDDENLY BAD!? THE FUCK???

And then the way she PHRASED it!? "Picking fights" implies that LUKE was the one who started the confrontation when i know DAMN WELL he didn't. Those were MONSTERS, they are KNOWN FOR ATTACKING DEMIGODS. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LUKE IS AT FAULT FOR THE FIGHT FOR SOME REASON! NOT THE BLOODTHIRSTY CREATUREAKNOWN FOR ATTACKING DEMIGODS!?

AND THEN THALIA ALSO SEEMS TO FORGET THE WONDERFUL FACT THAT LUKE WAS LIKE- UNDER 14 STILL WHEN ALL THAT WENT DOWN! That boy was a CHILD.

But I guess defending yourself is bad now! Sorry dude you heared Thalia, you should have just laid belly up and let yourself get killed^ Ands then that stupid ass line about Hermes loving Luke as if somehow made up for something????? LIKE BE SO FOR REAL THALIA WE BOTH FUCKING KNOW THAT HERMES "LOVING LUKE" DOESN'T MEAN JACK SHIT. I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH HE LOVED HIM HE STILL WAS A SHITTY ASS FATHER WHO DID FUCK ALL FOR HIS KID.

And now before anyone comes at me about this. I do not give a CRAP about that rule Hermes mentioned of gods not being allowed to meddle with mortal affairs because A) YOU GUYS ALREADY FUCK MORTALS TO PRODUCE CHILDREN WITH THEM!? THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU "AREN'T ALLOWED TO MEDDLE WITH MORTALS" AND

B) LUKE WASN'T EVEN A FUCKING MORTAL YOU DIPSHIT!? HE WAS A DEMIGOD! A CHILD DEMIGOD AT THAT!? UR A MOTHERFUCKING GOD WE BOTH FUCKING KNOW YOU COULD HAVE DONE ATLEAST SOMETHING. DON'T HIDE BEHIND SOME STUPID ALL RULES THAT ALREADY SOUND LIKE EXCUSES WHEN THEY DON'T EVEN FUCKING APPLY IN THAT SITUATION

I swear to the heavens above the way people act like it was SUCH a surprise that Luke went bad are a bunch of fucking clowns, No wonder did the guy start a war WHEN THAT WAS HIS MOTHERFUCKING SITUATION. And then GOOD GOD THE COMMENT PERCY MADE WHEN HE MET ETHAN UNDER THAT TRUCE!? WHERE HE MENTALLY CALLED KIDS OF MINOR GODS UNIMPORTANT!?

WHAT A FUCKING DICK!?

Say what you want but it takes BALLS to first be mad at them for switching sides and then pull a line like THAT.💀 Percy needs to be HUMBELED real fucking quick omfg, and Thalia too. "Luke's old friend" my ass, I'm just gonna assume she was used as the authors mouth piece here since she was handeled MUCH better in TTC. God that just made me furious, especially Percy's hypocrecy concerning minor gods. (Hopefully I understood or misheared something at that part, otherwise Percy would just be a straight up biggot.) Way to get too deep into something, please don't spoil me. Thanks.

[seat-safety-switch]

Nowadays, it's extremely common for folks to have many part-time jobs. It's basically like an old-school 80s sitcom, where every week has a different gig. Castle cleaner. Nuclear reactor technician. Bartender. Amateur taxi driver. Train conductor. Where there's a hustle, there's a way (to pay your inflated rent, before your landlord has you killed in the street.)

If you believe the media, this is because us modern folk just want something else out of life. More time with our families. Time to start up our Etsy business. Getting ejected from a hockey arena because $12/hr was not enough incentive to keep you from getting into a fistfight with an angry minor league parent. Blood on the ice! Someone's gonna need to clean that up. Hey, if you come back in a few weeks, maybe you can get a job at the arena. The janitor has gotta be pretty busy. That'd be great.

Of course, you know what I think. It's really because we're all too bored of showing up to work in reliable, dependable, modern cars. Back in the 70s and even 80s, you'd have a little bit of surprise factored into the equation. Little cold? Maybe the carb float is frozen up. That's a plausible excuse to take a day off, throwing darts in the neighbourhood pub instead. In the modern day, you get in the car, it starts, then you're at work. And even on the days when your car was reliable, maybe your boss didn't show up in his constantly-engine-out Jag. That's just as good, maybe even better than, a day off.

Even if you do drive an old piece of shit like something out of my collection, the relentless march of progress means that you have to show up to work. Remotely, sometimes through some kind of virtual-presence hologram, there's all sorts of opportunities for you to get fired by forgetting to set your microphone on "mute" before you go to take a shit.

[thelemoncoffee]

about the post of the tropes,i got a ramdom ides that idk if it's that good

Biologist/zoologist kokichi and zoo keper shuichi

I know it might be werid but- HEAR ME OUT

Kokichi has a big ass hunger for knolgment. Always wanting more because his brain can't whitout it and biology has math, chemistry,botanic, calculus, i think some physiology and more. Leaving to a lot o understatment of the world.

Or, zoology with the "i hate liars" and "i hate killing" and many other morals. Might lead kokichi to eanting to fully understand animals. Some sort of safe space that can keep his silly brain active! And the idea of him being one of those sassy animal enthusiastic that judgr the hell out of you if you say something wrong about an animal or don't know a specific sub-specie is funny.

And for shuichi, i imagine him having a minor job there. It will be a job to his frustated dreams of being a detective. To earn some money to study and de-stress, i imagine him at that au studying something by his parents per presure. Probably some sort of acting/modeling related stuff. And he saving money from cleaning outside of aquariums. Considering the helping yacchi and popular headcanon of him loving marine life it just feel rights.

Now. Imagine them, kokichi going to a study trip to a local zoo and woops. Pretty boy works there! And so the other way. Going sll tired to de-stress at some happy side job. Thinking that he looks like shit and then the embarsment of the cutest student analizing an animal while you clean.

Idk if it's that good or original. But wanted to share my idea! I might writte a fanfic about it but i am not sure of it's good enough. Sorry for the lomg description or bad english but be thinking of this for a time,

oooo i like this alot actually. i've played with a saiouma Zookeeper centric au before, but i don't think i ever posted anything about it and it definitely wasn't anything this

i like the idea of Kokichi rejecting humanity and embracing animals honestly. he can excuse animals killing, they have a good reason for all their kills and they're cute.

[kitsun3imp0ster]

Okay, to be completely honest, yeucc sort of rubs me the wrong way

Idk, there are a lot of things tho

Maybe it's the fact that they let their mods and devs get away with literally anything, including bullying their fans and slandering minors over the stupidest shit and they get Zero repercussions. (Both Gregoriah's VA and soda_stuff are KNOWN for being controversial as hell for different reasons, but yeucc still keeps them on the team for god knows why)

Maybe it's how weird the age change for Gnarpy is, since xe went from being a canonical minor to 'up for interpretation' which just feels so fucking weird to me, plus the fact that Gnarpy looks So Much Younger now with the new proportions and model, but that last bit may just be me simply nitpicking (dont even use the 'xey're an alien!!' excuse, you sound like people who say 'they look like a toddler but theyre actually 1000 years old)

Maybe it's the fact that yeucc is trying to make people credit them for the concept of a fucking elevator game when all they did was add the NPC shit, and even then the normal elevator did it first with The Big Cheese

Maybe it's the fact that yeucc blames their fanbase for weird decisions when I've heard literally NOBODY talking about that shit (looking at you, changing the R6 models. If they were to listen to the majority of the fanbase instead of like the handful of people who think R6 models are bad, then they wouldn't be doing this)

Maybe it's the fact that bro was So Fucking Proud of themselves for tricking their entire fanbase into becoming attached to Melanie, just to kill her off before she even got into the game. No, that's not writing a narrative, it's just being weird to ur fans and I guess attempting to make some weird fucked up ARG??? even tho it wasn't at all handled correctly. (There are SOOO many better ways they could have gone about it, but nope. And again they were so smug and cocky about it, like dude???)

Maybe it's the fact that yeucc in general is just sort of. Incompetent.

If the Dandy's World fandom can look at Rox and want them to take accountability, Regretevator fans should too even if yeucc's crimes against humanity arent 'as bad'. 

Maybe they aren't, but god does it suck looking at what the hell is happening and seeing fans being completely put off of the game because of the creator and their team of assholes. Not even mentioning the fact that it feels like some other shit could be brewing under the surface that could be spilling out thru all this other stuff. Idk tho.

I'm not saying everyone they surround themself with are dicks, but a good couple definitely spoils the bunch.

Thank you for listening to my TedTalk.

[the-bar-sinister]

Not Needed, But Desired (3954 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/2 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Baby 5/Komurasaki | Kozuki Hiyori

Additional Tags: Femslash, Rare Pairings, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, genre: pirate slice of life, Background Slash, Third Corazon Trafalgar D. Water Law, Minor Donquixote Doflamingo/Trafalgar D. Water Law, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff Summary: Baby 5 finds herself head over heals for the newest member of the Donquixote pirates, Komurasaki, the runaway princess of Wano. In the aftermath of a minor scuffle with the marines the two women grow closer despite their wildly different backgrounds.

-

The beaches of the small island still smelt like blood and gunpowder when the Donquixote Family started splitting up and fanning out over the small landmass on their various tasks. Some were tasked with collecting marine heads and identifications, others with gathering weapons and any scattered intelligence, and others still to investigate exactly why the marines took an interest in such a small and out of the way little island.

Baby 5 was glad to be in the latter, and even gladder when she and Komurasaki fell in together as they wandered deeper into the island's brush. They'd been fighting side by side! Blood pumping, Baby's power flowing into different weapons as the two of them killed any marine stupid enough to come close to what she knew made an amazing pair. She glanced sidelong at Saki, noticing the spray of cooling blood still lingered on the smooth skin of her cheek.

It looked really fucking hot. Baby 5 flushed and turned her eyes back to the island before she got caught staring. She hoped. 

Too late! 

Saki turned her head, lifting her chin toward her with a thin smile that showed just a slice of teeth– one of the few times that Baby had seen her smile so widely yet. Baby 5 flushed deeper as she allowed herself to walk closer with a flustered grin of her own.

"You were amazing out there, Saki. Like, hooooly shit. I haven't seen bladework like that in a long time, except from like, Dia." 

"Wano is famous for its blademasters," she said, walking shoulder to shoulder with her. "I'm not the best that there is, but I'm proud of my capabilities. Especially as supplemented by my other techniques."

"That ninja stuff, right?" Baby 5's shoulder lightly brushed hers as they walked, scanning the blood trails for anything amiss. She bit her lip, honestly watching Komurasaki fight had been thrilling in a very particular…less than appropriate kind of way. The kind of post-battle excitement that was common in the Donquixote family was not lost with Baby 5.

She wondered if Saki ever got the same way after a fight.

"At least I'm guessing that was ninja stuff." 

"Yes, the ninja stuff," Saki agreed, laughing musically. "If you're wondering, no, it's not considered appropriate samurai etiquette to use smoke bombs, or palmed knives."

Komurasaki casually slipped her arm around Baby 5's waist.

Baby 5's heartbeat picked up in her chest as she looped an arm around her shoulders with a chuckle. 

"I didn't think so. Samurai kinda seem a little stuffy to me. A little too 'decorum' focused, ya know? But smoke bombs and hidden knives give you an edge. That's assassin work."

Komurasaki had only just joined the crew proper, and before that had been in a strange sort of limbo on the Donquixote ship after Doffy picked Law and his two surviving crewmates up out of the drink. One of those two was Komurasaki, the beautiful and mysterious 'oiran' from Wano and the other Bepo, the mink navigator and Law's oldest buddy outside the family.

While Law angested his way through his inevitable return to the family as their lost Corazon, Baby 5 had taken to keeping Komurasaki company. What started as casual conversation over the comatose Law turned into a growing attachment, and Baby 5 found herself making every excuse to spend time with Saki as she showed her around the ship.

Performing chores together, dinners, sharing stories of their incredibly different pasts and circumstances, and playing with her power and seeing the delight on Komurasaki's face—Baby had found herself charmed more than she'd been with even the most palatable of her 'fiances'

And she was pretty sure it wasn't just her. Probably, hopefully. Saki seemed to like her too, especially with the occasional intimate touch they'd shared in the ocean wind, and the fact that not even once did Saki ever tell her she 'needed her' for something. She just…

Made her feel wanted, really. Even Doffy approved.

"It's cool, too." 

Saki smiled, shoulder to shoulder with her. "You think so? Well, your fighting was very 'cool' too, Baby 5. Very impressive. I've never seen someone fight quite the same way that you do."

Baby 5's arm squeezed her shoulders as her smile took on a note of pride. "Aww! Dia said I had a style all my own. Being able to turn into any weapon kinda means I had to find my own way to take advantage of it—you really liked it? You saw that I used the kama, right?" 

"I did. And it was a well timed use. That marine went down hard." Saki's smile hitched into a rather wicked smirk that suited the deadly combatant Baby 5 had seen her to be on the battlefield, more than it suited her carefully poised exterior.

That deadly combatant was gorgeous, too. The way her blade cut through marines in a graceful if brutal arc, the men who fell in the shroud of smoke to hidden blades and tricks, and the wicked smirk that curved below arcs of splattered blood against doll-like skin.

Baby 5 shivered, flushing again at the memory. "Aww…fl-flatterer. I mean. I was just usin' it how you told me how to!" 

"You're a quick learner," Saki paused beside a copse of brush that had been singed by the battle. "May I make another observation?"

Baby 5 lightly rustled it with her foot as she looked up at Saki, her eyes lingering on her smirk for a long moment before flicking up to her eyes. "Sure, whatever you wanna make, Saki!" 

She reached up with her free hand, and cupped Baby 5's face, turning it gently— appraisingly. "You seem flushed."

Baby 5 felt her face heat up even more under her fingers as she quietly sputtered. Very suddenly she wished she'd lit another one of her smokes for its nicotine to still her racing heart. 

"Flushed? Me? R-really?" She looked into her eyes with a lopsided smile. "Just thinking of the fight is all!" 

"So fighting excites you?" Komurasaki asked curiously, her smirk twisting.

Saki was teasing her, she had to be. That smirk crawling across her face said it all. She swallowed thickly and tried to laugh it off. "I mean, doesn't it excite everyone?" 

"Not everyone, admittedly." She leaned in toward her, until they were nearly nose to nose. "But it does excite me."

Baby 5 could feel her breath against his face, and could practically hear her own heartbeat as it hammered in her chest. "...well, it excites me too. T-there's nothing like a fight to get the blood pumping, Saki." 

"And what shall we do with all that blood?" She raised an eyebrow, but didn't wait for Baby 5 to answer– instead she pressed a kiss against her lips.

Baby 5's attempt at an answer, brief as it was, was smothered under Komurasaki's soft lips. She shivered, excitement thrumming through her in the wake of the battle-fever, and practically melted into it with a happy murmur. She kissed back, her lips sucking tentatively against Saki's. 

Saki was an expert kisser. Like– a literal, actual expert, that much was clear. She had had training, and she used it well, artfully. Her lips were as deft and commanding as they were soft, and they teased eagerly at hers, sucking and grasping. She pressed her tongue into Baby 5's mouth like lacing the ribbon of a gift.

Baby 5 had thought she was practiced, practiced around the Donquixote Family as she fooled around and romanced her fellow pirates for years and years now. But Saki was on another level. The command and artful skill worked together to make Baby 5 putty in Komurasaki's hands as she leaned in and eagerly followed her lead.

Her tongue met Saki's, brushing up against it as her whole body shivered and grew warm. Saki gathered her close to her, and her lips lingered on hers, sucking softly on her lower lip. She nuzzled her cheek against Baby 5's as the kiss parted—

But then before Baby 5 could do more than breathe, Saki seemed to change her mind, and kissed her again— harder, rougher, with less practice and more simple desire.

Baby 5 was once again surprised! And once again she was utterly intoxicated in the kiss. She pressed her limber body against Saki's, meeting the hard and rough kiss with equal passionate desire. That was the sort of kiss she had practice with. Hard, rough, drenched in the passion of the moment. She could kiss back with everything she had. Her teeth lightly brushed Saki's lips, nibbling them before deepening the kiss. 

She heard a huff of breath for Komursaki that was almost a growl, and then she bit Baby 5's tongue and lips in rough, hungry little bites. She felt her chest expand against her as she shuddered.

Finally she broke the kiss again, and stared into Baby 5's eyes with her own sea green gaze.

Baby 5 caught her breath in soft little gasps as she met her eyes. She felt dizzy, maybe from the lack of oxygen or maybe from the way her mind spun around in joyful circles as she kept her hands against Saki's side.

She could get lost in the woman's eyes— they were like the ocean, deep and magnetic. Her own dark eyes blinked once before she smiled with reddened lips. "W-wow. You get real excited after a punch up…" 

"Not exactly something I've been able to act on until now, admittedly." Saki's own cheeks were flushed now, and she shifted her legs visibly under the skirt of her borrowed dress.

Baby 5's eyes glanced briefly down, well aware of her own reaction to the passionate kiss. They quickly returned to Komurasaki's eyes as she leaned a little closer. 

"Wano's too buttoned up for that kinda thing?" she asked with a small smile. "The Donquixote's aren't—y-you can act on it any time if ya want. With me, even. That was a hell of a kiss!" 

"I liked it." Saki brushed her hand against Baby 5's face, glancing away from her. "It's nice to just kiss someone I enjoy the company and beauty of."

Baby 5 nuzzled her hand with a deepening flush, her eyes averting down towards her shoes as she leaned into her touch. 

"It is, isn't it? I ah—I really feel the same way, Saki. You really enjoy my company? You think I'm beautiful? 'Cause I sure as hell think you're probably the most gorgeous woman I've ever met. And—w-well, I've been really enjoying all our time together." 

She tucked a lock of Baby 5's hair behind her ear and nodded. "I do enjoy your company. I'm glad you've been enjoying mine. I feel like I must seem odd, and… stiff, perhaps."

Baby 5 shook her head vehemently for a moment, the strand of hair almost falling free as she grabbed Saki's hands with a broad grin. 

"I mean, Saki— you're different from pretty much anyone I've ever met, but that doesn't mean you're 'odd'. Not in a bad way. And anyone who calls ya stiff hasn't seen that smile you make when you're fighting." 

"Then I'm glad that you can see that." She laughed softly, and played with her own hair. "I'm working on leaving my restraint behind, but I fear it's slow going."

Baby 5 chewed her lip, and reached out to lightly brush her fingers against the ends of Komurasaki's hair. "I mean, it's hard to inch away from the way you grew up. But nobody here's gonna rush or judge ya. I won't—" she flushed a bit deeper before she murmured. "I'd like to help however I can, if that's alright." 

"I appreciate the help." She smiled at her, and leaned close. "Ah— but had we better get back to what we were doing, and have this conversation later? I feel I've been more of a distraction than I meant to."do

The fact that they were on a mission to figure out what the hell the Navy wanted on this island—while completely surrounded by massacred corpses— has pretty much fled Baby 5's mind until Saki mentioned it.

"Shit, you're right! But—as soon as we're back on the ship, I'd love to talk more about it, alright?" She leaned close and offered her hand. "till then, we've got a mystery to solve together." 

Komarusaki took her hand, her delicate nails brushing the skin of Baby 5's fingers. "Until then."

-

The resolution of the mystery was not what Baby 5 had expected. Not what anyone had expected. The whole family had converged on the center of the island, where, hidden just past the brush and trees and the marine fortifications, was evidence that the island had once been inhabited for a little while.

Inhabited by pirates, if the jolly roger flag that had been left among the simple, rudely built structures was any indication.

There were some weapons, and some clothes, and a couple of cases of booze. Pica and Diamante were off to the side, discussing whether or not it would be prudent to dig around for treasure.

"I really thought it'd be somethin' else. Like, I dunno," Baby 5 mused as she looked up at the Jolly Roger with a squint, sussing out whose it might be. "One of those big square bastards full of codes, or maybe a hint to one of those superweapons people used to talk about."

"A poneglyph?" Saki asked curiously. She too was peering at the Jolly Roger.

It was a distinctive one. The skull bore a flaming insignia– or perhaps a flaming hat– over a red spade.

"Yeah, the Pony cliffs." Baby 5 nodded with a bounce of her dark ringlets. By now she'd lit herself a new cigarette, and was smoking intently as she squinted at the flag "...I know this one. I think I know it, anyway." 

"To my great surprise it's actually familiar to me as well," Saki said. "This was the insignia of the pirates who arrived on Wano's shores only a couple of years ago."

Baby 5 turned to look at Komurasaki with wide eyes. 

"Wait, for real? The…" The Spade Pirates. They'd caused a stir a while back after burning Whitebeard's flag on Fishman Island, and tearing their way through the New World until they abruptly stopped—when their captain got absorbed into Whitebeard's massive crew, and then later when that very same captain was executed at Marineford. "The Spade Pirates landed on Wano??" 

"Not many know it to be so, but indeed they did. They must have happened upon this island either on their way to or from Wano's shores, by chance I would guess."

Baby 5 rubbed her neck. "By chance is right, Saki" navigation through the Grand Line, especially in the New World was tricky. Special poses were needed to even survive a trip, and uncharged and unmarked islands littered the place. It was common, likely even, to find an island by chance and never encounter it again.

Which left her wondering. "Navigation out here is–insane. I can't even think about how they expected to get back to an island that doesn't register on the pose." 

"Now that's a mystery by itself, isn't it?" Komurasaki tapped her lip. "I wonder."

She turned to look at the small encampment. The rough structures, the old crates. All of it was situated around a hole full of water, circled by stones. It was too shallow to be a well– it looked more like some kind of artificial tidepool.

Baby 5 walked over to it, and dipped down to look into the 'tidepool' with a tilt of her head. "Huuuh…Saki, look at this. They made this, it looks like." 

"It looks like a koi pond," Saki said, kneeling beside it. "A kind of water garden. An odd thing to make in what seems like such a temporary dwelling."

Indeed, there were a lot of small fish in it, and little plants, and sea snails and the like.

Baby 5 squinted for a long moment at it with a tilt of her head. "Maybe they were just really into, I dunno—fishtanks? Maybe they were like 'we're stuck on shitsplat island, might as well make something relaxing until we ship off'?" 

"Mmm… perhaps?" Saki put a hand on a large flat stone that was positioned carefully in front of the little pond. "Does 'Fred' mean anything to you?"

"I think I shot a Fred in the head once behind the pub?" Baby 5 tilted her head to the side. 

"A name, then?" she cocked her head. Baby watched her lift the rock, which she say had 'Fred' scratched deeply into its surface. "There's a piece of paper under here. But it seems to be blank."

"........." Baby 5's eyes shot open wide "OH!!! FUCK!" She ducked down to grab the paper with a grin. "I know what that is! That's how these guys were gonna try to get back!" 

The paper was torn at the edges. It was obvious to her what it was– a vivre card.

Komuasaki startled, and lifted her chin curiously as Baby 5 scooped up the paper. "Oh? What's your insight?"

"It's a vivre card, Saki…it's a special paper that always attracts itself to the person who's fingernail helped make it if you've got a piece. It's a way of keeping track of folks, and a lot of people use it to track difficult to follow islands and the like by following the card."

"Ah! I know of these," she nodded. "But— wouldn't they have needed a person to stay alive on this island? I don't see 'Fred' around anywhere."

"Oh yeah—they would, huh?" Baby 5 frowned. "...unless—"

She peered down at the pool again. 

The crab was missing the tip of one of its claws.

"Yer kiddin' me." she muttered. "They made their own fucking map marker by giving a crab a vivre card and a little fuckin' tide pool paradise to be happy in? That's how they were planning on coming back??? That crab's Fred!" 

Komurasaki stood, and peered at the crab, and then back to Baby 5. "The crab is Fred?"

"The crab is Fred!" Baby 5 laughed as she pointed down to its claw. "...see, they took a snippet of claw, made it into the vivre card and made sure he'd be long lived and happy in his little well stocked tidepool ecosystem. So they could follow the vivre card back HERE." 

Saki paused. "Well. That's actually a very clever plan I think. I wonder why more people don't do something like that?"

"Because it's kinda risky probably. I mean, if that crab wanders off or is eaten by a bird then bam. You're fucked. No way back." Baby 5 mused, "on the other hand, it's just kind of a wild idea." 

"Did I overhear you two talking about something?" Doffy's voice cooed from nearby as he stepped over toward them with Law, from where they had been looking through the crates. "You didn't figure this out, did you?"

Baby 5 looked up with a grin. "We did, pretty much right away thanks to Saki an' me putin' our heads together!"

She saw Law, Corazon, standing with his hand on his hip. "Took you longer than it shoulda, Baby."

"Fuck you Corazon." Baby 5 stuck out her tongue. 

Doffy chuckled at the two of them. "Well done. It's a pretty clever trick, don't you think? Not one that would work in most circumstances, but…"

"But clever enough," Komurasaki nodded. "I wonder why they never seem to have returned."

"Well…" Baby 5 grimaced as she rubbed her neck. "The captain's dead, two years dead now—and I'm pretty sure his whole crew was assimilated with him when he got taken into Whitebeard's crew before his execution."

Law nodded with a low sigh. "Yeah that's about the size of it. Poor bastard." 

"Ah," Komurasaki nodded. "That would do it. Well, I suppose that means no one will be disappointed when they come back and find it empty."

Baby 5 perked up a little. "Huh, that's true—and I mean I think they'd be happy if it got used by another bunch of pirates in need, huh? Instead of it all going to waste."

Law tilted his head. "Yeah, Luffy's brother would probably be fairly happy with that, thinkin' about it." 

"Luffy's brother?" Saki perked up curiously. "Interesting. Are many pirates connected like that?"

Doffy wiggled his hand back and forth. "Ehh…"

Baby 5 blinked. "...Luffy's that psychotic rubber kid, right? He had a brother?"

"Yeah, Ace." Law huffed softly. "Some are, I think the more prolific you get the more little connections like that you start to find," gently, he leaned his shoulder against Doflamingo. 

Doffy chuckled and wrapped his arm around Law's shoulder. "There's lots of connections, but most pirates try to pretend they're purely enemies. It isn't true though."

"Interesting," Saki chuckled. "I shall keep this in mind going forward."

Law flushed with a sharp huff. "It's a good lesson, Saki. I mean, I've got that connection with the Straw Hats, who's got a connection to the Queen of Amazon Lily Hancock Boa, Doffy's got his connection to Crocodile, who has his own connections, and so on."

Baby 5 looped her arm around Saki's shoulders "Pretty neat, ain't it?" 

"It is," Saki nodded. "Connections between pirates. Hah. Such things were forbidden between the different criminal groups on Wano."

"Really??" Baby 5 blinked curiously. "What, you all had to pretend you loathed one another? You couldn't make alliances or connections to, I dunno consolidate power?" 

"There was very little contact allowed at all between the rank and file. And Wano was a crowded criminal ecosystem. Most of what went on between the leadership was backstabbing and stealing territory, rather than divvying power."

Doffy shook his head. "That's what you get for living on such a small fucking island. It was a bit like that in the old days of the North Blue, too. This town ain't big enough for the both of us, and all that."

Law chuckled softly under his breath. "Small fucking island problems. Hell, even when you were pirates you still ran into that kinda shit with local gangs. I remember attending a few of the 'meetings' with you guys as a kid. Putting them back in their place."

Baby 5 smiled nostalgically. "Yeah…those were the days, alright! But—yeah, it's small island problems. Problems it looks like Wano was full of, huh? The high seas are a LOT more interestin'. That or big islands, big cities like Dressrosa." 

"I'm very excited to see new problems instead," Saki said with a smile. She leaned on Baby 5's shoulder. "And new solutions."

Doffy clapped his hands together. "Alright. Now that the mystery's solved, let's get all of this stuff to the ship so that Pica can dig for treasure."

"Yessir, Doffy," Law pointed. "Baby 5, Saki, I'm putting you in charge of gathering up this campsite. Take anything useful, unusual, or scrappable and give it to the grunts to box and haul." 

Komursaki saluted him. "Understood."

As Doffy and Corazon walked away, Baby 5 got to work side by side with Saki. They fell into the same easy rhythm that they'd grown into the last few weeks. As they shifted and sorted through the campsite, she found her gaze lingering on the other woman with the memory of the kiss fresh in her mind.

She wondered if they'd get to continue that conversation soon, once the boxes were packed and the marines supplies hauled to the icebox.

[abyssalpeach]

up against the ropes (a matcha blossom fic). rated e. also on ao3.

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Kojiro's voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

"Positive."

a/n: i promise this started out totally normal and achingly tender before the brain worms whispered The Unholy Headcanon to me. pls forward this to my lawyer for when they come to take me away to horny jail.

anyway cheers to posting fic on tumblr again because somebody around here needs to start clogging the mb tag

Life was slowly returning to normal after the fateful S tournament where Langa had thoroughly whooped Ainosuke’s ass at his own game and Kaoru came out the other end seriously injured.

He had sustained a sprained ankle, a minor concussion, and the big one: a hairline fracture to his wrist.

He’d been lucky enough through the years to be a skilled and precise enough skater to avoid most injuries that would impede his work, but his luck had to run out eventually. Kaoru was honestly surprised it took even this long. He was not immune to bailing every once in a while.

But now his skating had massively affected his income for the first time in his entire adult life. It was a good thing he was self-employed and in an artistic profession where he could make his own rules and use art block as an excuse to push a deadline a little, but it didn’t stop him from feeling uncomfortable with it.

His injuries on the other hand, were harder to explain away when they were so visible. He had to come up with an excuse at some point, and for someone with as much pride and poise as Kaoru, a nasty spill down the stairs was simply not a believable reason.

So, he told the truth. At least, as much of it as he was comfortable telling. He fell off a skateboard. Whether they inferred that he was a novice and simply trying to entertain one of his young relatives was none of his concern. They could think what they like.

He would’ve rather said that he’d gotten hit by a car, but it would surely look suspicious if he wasn’t involved in any kind of investigation or trial afterwards. Best to stick as close to the real story as possible and let people draw their own conclusions.

People were surprisingly generous with him during his time of injury. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, but his clientele always struck him as being fairly rigid. That’s why he took out all of his piercings and did his best to compartmentalize the different areas of his life. The resistance he was expecting to be met with when he was forced to push back dates for demonstrations and signing events was practically non-existent.

These things happen, they would say, as if he wasn’t a twenty-something year old professional admitting to falling off a skateboard. The reactions had him questioning whether or not he needed to be so cautious with his presentation and reputation after all.

There were too many things going on in his life that he was second-guessing now. Nothing was what it seemed to be anymore and he’s not entirely sure what to make of it. Kaoru spent so much time doing calculations, statistics, risk assessments, and not even the data could support the litany of weird shit he was enduring the past few months.

He really had come to terms with the fact that he was always going to be a little bit in love with Kojiro. He was always the nurturing sort, but he’d never gotten to experience it to that degree before. They spent every waking hour together for three whole weeks and somehow hadn’t killed each other yet.

Kaoru knew he was a needy person, and a jealous one at that. If he took it out on Kojiro unnecessarily sometimes, he was met with retaliation, and rightly so. He just couldn’t help himself. Kojiro could slut himself out to whoever he chose, but Kaoru would be damned if any of those women received the five-star treatment from Kojiro that he got.

No one could rile Kojiro up like he could. No one could critique Kojiro’s cooking like he could. No one could understand Kojiro like he could. Sure, they may have his bed for a night if they were lucky, but Kaoru held onto Kojiro’s heart with a vice grip and wouldn’t relinquish it for anything.

If Kaoru was going to be forced to live a life without enduring romance or marriage, he would make sure Kojiro was too. They were in this together, god dammit, they had been since they were in fucking kindergarden. They’ve done everything together for decades, that wasn’t about to change.

Maybe it wasn’t the best mentality for him to have, actually he knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly talk himself out of his own feelings. Lord knows he’s tried to do that enough times over the years. A crush on his straight best friend and the biggest fuckboy in town. It was so embarrassing.

It was honestly kind of sick, this game that he’s been playing with Kojiro in his own mind. Maybe he just liked the thrill of the chase or always wanted things he couldn’t have and wouldn’t even know what to do if he got what he wanted, but these thoughts remained in the back of his mind throughout the years and all their petty squabbles. Life changes, but Kojiro never does.

He really needed to be less selfish. It’s not as though he deserved Kojiro’s kindness. The man has surely spent an ungodly amount of money throughout the years just to feed him. He probably writes it off as a business expense on his taxes, the damned fool.

“You’re my taste tester,” Kojiro rationalized. “I shamelessly use your discerning palette and instead of paying you in money, you would rather be paid in carbonara. You’re doing me a service.”

He’d do him a service alright. Glorious idiot.

It was a special kind of torture sharing space with him for so long. Waking up to breakfast in bed, afternoons spent doing nostalgia rewatches of their favorite stupid childhood shows, elaborate dinners, being bathed by him. It was… intimate. There really was no other word for it. Every night they parted ways after Kojiro had diligently washed his hair and dragged a soapy cloth across his back, every night he expected the tension to get the better of them, and every night Kojiro eased Kaoru into bed and excused himself to the couch.

And that was it. The cast and splint came off and Kojiro went home. His entire routine had been disrupted now. He had gotten used to all of the attention and care. And they still hadn’t killed each other. That part continued to baffle him. He didn’t feel smothered. Kojiro wasn’t sick to death of his neurotic behavior. If anything, he felt closer to Kojiro than ever before. It was like there was a seismic shift in the earth under him and he was, what? Expected to go back to how things were before? Fat chance.

He was able to repeat the same movements as before, going to Sia la Luce after he finished up with clients for the day, going to S together, working on improvements for Carla well into the night before passing out under the kotatsu. But something was missing. Big surprise, it was Kojiro. He hardly needed Carla to spell that one out for him.

It’s later than usual by the time he arrives at Sia la Luce, the lights in the dining room are already off, save for the ones above the counter he’s claimed as his own. The door is unlocked, but Kojiro is nowhere in sight.

He wanders into the kitchen to see if there’s something in the cooler worth raiding, but he finds his best friend casually sitting on the floor.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Kojiro brings the bottle of whatever he’s drinking up to his mouth.

“That’s alright, I was overstepping my boundaries anyway.”

Kojiro lets out a thunderous laugh. “I hardly have boundaries when it comes to you, but good of you to own up to it.”

“Shut up, asshole,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward. They need to have a serious conversation for once, and they both know it. “By the way, I... wanted to thank you.” Kaoru avoided his gaze, weight shifting between his feet.

Kojiro simply stared, not sure he was hearing that correctly. Kaoru continued, “For taking care of me.”

That seems to please him. “Somebody’s gotta do it. Not like Carla can carry you to bed.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m trying to be nice.”

“You could certainly stand to do it more often, considering how much I feed you.”

Kaoru smiles softly, gaze dropping to his feet. “What are you doing on the floor anyway?”

“Having a beer, obviously. Want one?” Kaoru shook his head, moving to join him on the floor. He continued, “It was just a long day. Feet hurt.”

“Chairs too sophisticated for neanderthals now?” It almost sounded like a pet name.

“Is work going alright? How’s your wrist?”

“I’m fine, Kojiro. You don’t need to worry after me, you know.”

“Somebody should.” His answering smile is almost sad.

Silence fell heavily between them. Carla could never give him this. Ainosuke certainly never did. It was just Kojiro. Always Kojiro. “Would it be weird to say that I miss you?”

“I hope not, because I miss you too.”

“We should do something. See a movie, maybe.”

“We should. A movie sounds great actually, there’s one I was kinda wanting to see.” Kojiro pulls his phone out and is looking up showtimes, forwarding him a link to the trailer as he goes. It doesn’t look half bad for an action movie. It looks fun and fairly mindless, as they tend to be.

It’s a bit late and they’ve missed the last showing of the night, but they make a plan to go tomorrow. They settle back into their companionable, if slightly awkward, silence. Kojiro nurses his beer and Kaoru steals glances at his large hands, veiny and strong. His motions are not his own as he reaches for one and holds their palms up together, noting the difference in size.

Kojiro’s hands have always been a morbid fascination of his. He just likes to suffer, apparently. They’re large, but dextrous, with a couple prominent veins down the back. There’s some hair there now, not much, but it certainly wasn’t there when they were younger. What’s always been there is the smattering of freckles. Loathe as he is to admit it, he loves when Kojiro gets really tan and the freckles come out even more.

Kojiro’s hands have a couple burns on them and are a bit calloused from all the cooking and skating and working out. It almost makes him wish his own hands had half as much character. They’re soft and slender, not even particularly masculine, just generic. The only noteworthy thing about his hands is what they’re able to create.

Perhaps in this moment, he could use his hands to express the depth of his feelings to Kojiro. Something to avoid having to say it out loud.

Kojiro is watching their hands with rapt attention, his eyes soft but… pained? Before Kaoru can get the wrong idea about Kojiro rejecting him in that moment, he finds their fingers laced together. He’s never felt so warm.

“Kaoru…”

His face is so close. Kaoru can feel his warm breath on his cheek. He can feel his own blush. He dares a look into Kojiro’s eyes and finds everything he could’ve ever hoped for, but was too scared to imagine.

“Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” Kojiro’s voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

“Positive.”

Kojiro’s hand was in his hair, bringing him close to brush their lips together, breathing him in before sealing his mouth over his. A pathetic noise rose from Kaoru’s chest, barely escaping his throat. Kojiro wanted to swallow it. Their hands were everywhere, tangled in hair, tracing along faces, scrambling at arms and shoulders.

They kiss just long enough for reality to sink in, pulling back with startled gasps.

He supposes astonishment is the best adjective to describe the look Kojiro gives him now. His own expression surely isn’t much different. But Kojiro raises their entwined hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

“Are you hungry,” he asks, as if they haven’t just crossed a line they hadn’t dared tread in the twenty years they’ve known each other. Kaoru nods slowly before letting his forehead rest against Kojiro’s.

“I’ll make your favorite,” his voice is a low rumble, sending shivers down Kaoru’s spine. Kojiro’s knees give an ominous crack when he rises from the floor, making him groan and Kaoru chuckle quietly.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you get carpal tunnel. Don’t forget you’re next, pinky,” his smile is more disarming than ever, with hand outstretched to assist him off the floor. Kaoru takes the proffered hand, but not without getting in a jibe of his own.

“Maybe if you spent a little less time doing squats…”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not checking out my ass.” Kojiro’s laugh is thunderous when he sees Kaoru floundering for a comeback, knowing he’s been busted.

The rest of the evening passes without any more shocking revelations. Mostly it’s just… normal. There might be marginally less bite to their bickering and the glances they exchange might be a bit more tender, but it’s far from unusual. It’s familiar, and he knows that he’s safe, no matter what that kiss will mean for their relationship when tomorrow comes.

He waits next to the front door while Kojiro finishes locking up. The night air is crisp, the breeze cool instead of warm – a sign that the weather is about to turn from scorching heat to mild and temperate. They may not have seasons in the traditional sense, but it’s not as though it can be hot all the time.

Kojiro walks him home, gentleman that he is. Kaoru would read into it if this wasn’t already part of their routine. A routine they’re so entrenched in that they part ways with a “see you tomorrow” and a friendly wave. No fanfare, no trepidatious kiss to the cheek, nothing.

It’s disappointing really.

He’s mostly on autopilot as he readies himself for bed, thoughts consumed by what tomorrow might bring, mixed in with visions of that tender kiss. His toothpaste foams at the corner of his mouth and the blush sits high on his cheeks. He looks insane.

What kind of giddy teenager has he turned into? He’s a grown man , he should not be so affected by a simple kiss that happened an hour and a half ago.

He hunkers down into his futon and tries to shake it off.

His dreams are of crimson eyes, so soft, and lips that are even softer.

*****

They decide to just meet up at the movie theater since Kojiro bought their seats ahead of time. He tried to pay him back, but Kojiro refused.

God, it was like a real date and they were fighting over the stupid check.

He’s wearing pants for a change. Well, they’re still hakama, he isn’t being too adventurous, but he did pair it with a black halter top. He really ought to wear these pants more. They’re a light sage green color and decorated with small white flowers. He knows they look good with his hair and the fabric feels downright sensual against his skin.

When Kojiro rounds the corner, he doesn’t spot Kaoru right away, giving him a chance to drink his fill of the sight of him. He’s got his black bomber on this time, the one with the leather sleeves that he typically only wears for special occasions.

He’s so fucked.

When they do finally lock eyes, Kojiro’s entire face lights up and strides over to meet him. He does not miss the appreciative way he looks Kaoru up and down. He shifts on his feet, unaccustomed to Kojiro being so brazen with him.

“You look great!” He’s honestly such a child, he’s so giddy. It’s charming as hell.

They head into the theater, making small talk along the way. It’s not often they have time off that lines up, but Kojiro closes early on Sundays and doesn’t reopen until Tuesday.

Kojiro spent his day tidying up around the house and planning menus. Kaoru mostly spent his day fussing over his hair and worrying about tonight, not that he would divulge that particular bit to Kojiro. Instead, he claims to have spent his afternoon tending to Carla’s operating system. If Kojiro sees through the lie, he doesn’t say anything.

They’re early enough that the trailers haven’t started yet, so Kojiro stands in line to get them snacks while Kaoru uses this opportunity to visit the restroom. When he emerges, he finds Kojiro leaning just a tad too far over the counter, talking conspiratorially to the snack counter girl. Before he has the chance to get upset though, Kojiro waves him over with a grin so dopey that it rivals one of the seven dwarves.

Kojiro hands him the sour candies he favors so much and pushes off from the counter. He’s got his own popcorn in one hand and the other draped casually over his shoulders as he walks them to their seats.

“Who was that,” Kaoru inquired, hopefully not sounding too jealous.

“Oh, that was one of Rini’s old friends! Haven’t seen her since she was like eleven years old!”

Rini was one of Kojiro’s younger sisters. He hopes his sigh of relief isn’t too noticeable.

They settle into their seats while Kojiro rambles on about Rini’s friend and how she’s getting ready to graduate and move to Tokyo, where Rini has been for the past year. The way Kojiro talks about the people in his family and their circle around them has always left Kaoru jealous. Not in the sense that he wants to be the only one in Kojiro’s life, but wishing he had something like that to call his own.

His parents weren’t exactly the warm and nurturing type, often keeping Kaoru at a distance. No matter how hard he rebelled as a teenager, nothing seemed to make them pay attention. They’d pay for anything else though: toys, skateboards, a car, tuition. Anything to get him off their back.

It had to be why he gravitated towards Kojiro so much. Just being in the Nanjo house, crowded and messy though it often was, there was love and family to be found there.

Kaoru really needed to get a grip. It’s not like Kojiro would be flirting with someone while they’re literally on a date. If that’s what this even is. Surely it must be. The movie plans predicated the kiss, but it was a pretty straight fucking line from A to B. There was definitely a charged undercurrent to this little outing.

Kaoru squirms in his seat, sneaking glances over at Kojiro’s form next to him. Don’t ask him what’s going on in the movie because all he knows is that Kojiro’s body language is open, but his hands are clutching his popcorn container. He offers it to Kaoru wordlessly, getting in his space and leaning over the armrest. He allows himself to indulge, but it’s not the popcorn he indulges in, it’s Kojiro’s proximity.

They remain close for the rest of the movie, still in their own seats and occasionally shifting to a more comfortable position, but their bodies lean towards each other like magnets. Sometimes Kojiro will whisper something to Kaoru and earn them a shush from someone behind them, making Kaoru outright giggle.

Everything is always funnier when you’re not supposed to be talking or laughing. It reminds him of high school, though usually he was the one getting Kojiro into trouble rather than the other way around.

Life has changed around them. They’re practically whole new people now, but through all their evolutions, they can’t shake each other. They always go together, balancing each other out perfectly.

He wonders if this new development of their relationship will throw a wrench into it all. Much as he wants this, he doesn’t know what he’d do without Kojiro. That’s his best friend. No one in the world knows him better. Maybe they’ll be okay.

In fact, he’s all but sure of it now.

The credits come sooner than either of them expects, and they slowly put themselves to rights and clean up their trash. They wander lazily towards the exit, probably holding up the people behind them.

It’s warmer outside than it was the previous night. The breeze blows through his hair, and it has Kaoru feeling wistful. He takes in a deep breath and looks up at the stars. Neither of them has anything left to say, really. They just stand there in companionable silence, wondering what comes next.

Kaoru looks over to Kojiro, and you’d think he never looked away from the sky for how starry his gaze looks. Kojiro steps close, gingerly tucking a loose hair back behind Kaoru’s ear. He has to take a steadying breath.

“Why don’t you stay at mine tonight,” Kojiro asks.

Unsure whether his voice will come out normal or not, he gives only a curt nod. “I brought the bike,” Kaoru gestures to the Carla motorcycle, trying to get his blush under control, “it’s right over there.”

Kojiro climbs on the back of the bike, legs spread wide and inviting. Kaoru slides between him and the handlebars, turning the ignition. Kojiro lets his hands fall to Kaoru’s waist and he scooches himself even further up. If he feels like he’s being smothered now, he has no idea how he’s going to make it through the rest of the night. The engine roars to life, creating encouraging vibrations beneath them.

Kaoru’s sense of urgency to get them back to Kojiro’s place is only heightened when his hands creep up his ribcage and back down to his hips. They get stopped by a light and Kojiro takes his opportunity to pull Kaoru’s hips even further into his own and drop a hot kiss to where his neck meets his shoulder.

The sound of the bike drowns out much of the obscene moan he lets out, for which he is grateful. They need to get home now.

They’re only a block or so away and Kojiro’s forehead is pressed between his shoulder blades as he tries to calm his breathing.

What feels like mere moments later, he pulls up outside Kojiro’s building and kills the engine. For all the build up, the two are frozen in place, still slotted against each other. This is it. Kojiro steps off the bike first, his hand coming into Kaoru’s line of vision. Their eyes connect and Kaoru can’t help but smirk. Kaoru puts his hand in Kojiro’s and lets himself be pulled from the bike. He doesn’t let go of Kojiro’s hand, even as he fishes through his pockets for his keys.

Once they finally make it into Kojiro’s apartment, they’re immediately reaching for each other. The kiss is explosive and they greedily paw at each other’s clothes. Kojiro’s jacket doesn’t even make it past the genkan. Kaoru’s hakama are hastily discarded so Kojiro can hoist him into the air, legs wrapping around his bulky frame. He sucks relentlessly on Kojiro’s lips and tongue, digging his fingers into his shoulders.

The pleased noises Kojiro makes are sure to haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Kojiro steers them into his bedroom, dropping Kaoru gracelessly onto the bed. He wriggles out of his jeans and Kaoru grabs a fistful of his shirt, yanking him down on top of him.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, rolling and writhing together, not an inch of space between them.

Kaoru grabs two handfuls of his plump ass, grinding their hips together in a way so filthy that it has Kojiro practically choking for air. “Kaoru, fuck.” They’re both so hard, panting so heavily into each other’s mouths and they haven’t even gotten to the main event. Kojiro extracts himself from Kaoru long enough to grab the condoms and lube from his side table. Kaoru takes the moment to adjust his ponytail higher on his head and snatches the supplies right from Kojiro’s hands.

“Lay down,” his tone leaves no room for argument and Kojiro scrambles up to the headboard to heed him. “Good boy,” he praises before peeling him out of his boxer briefs and taking every impressive inch of him into his mouth.

He doesn’t even ease Kojiro into it, he’s too greedy. He’s immediately taking him all the way to the back of his throat and hollowing out his cheeks, groaning at the taste.

“Jesus fuck, Kaoru, take it easy,” he cries out, head thrown back. “I’m gonna blow my load before we even get to it.”

“Don’t tell me that your reputation is all bullshit.”

“Hey, give me a break! I’ve waited a long time for you, okay,” he runs his fingers through the ends of Kaoru’s ponytail.

“I’d hardly call that ‘waiting,’ you slept with everyone who fluttered their eyelashes in your direction.” Kaoru rips at the condom package and rolls it on, firmly placing the bottle of lube into Kojiro’s hand. He swings a leg over him, straddling his hips with another filthy grind.

“Of course you even wanna fight during sex,” he laughs into Kaoru’s mouth, pulling him down for a kiss, “can’t believe I expected anything less.”

“Yeah, shame on you,” Kaoru slips his tongue into Kojiro’s open mouth as he sinks a slick finger into his ass. The pressure punches a sharp moan from him, but he quickly relaxes into it, rocking his hips back into Kojiro’s hand.

Kaoru spends the next minutes sucking at every bit of skin he can get his mouth on. He wants to devour Kojiro, leave him without a shadow of a doubt who he belongs to. Kaoru drags the flat of his tongue over one of Kojiro’s nipples, keeping direct eye contact and giving it a few more kitten licks until Kojiro is a restless mess beneath him. He finally, finally sinks back onto Kojiro’s fat cock with a firm nip to his chin. He sits back on his haunches with a luxuriant roll of his neck. He can practically feel him in his throat. “Fuck, you’re huge.”

“God, Kaoru, you can’t say stuff like that,” he is clearly fighting for his life down there, “not if you want me to last.”

Kaoru can’t help but chuckle darkly, “Come on, big boy, I know you can do better than that.” Kojiro thrusts up harshly in retaliation. He takes that as an invitation to start moving, swiveling his hips, grinding down and getting used to the feeling of Kojiro inside of him. Kojiro presses his fingers into the meat of his thighs harshly as they sink into a rhythm.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Kojiro praises.

He wonders how many people he’s called that.

Maybe they should be going slower. Really relishing in the fact that they’re finally doing this after all this time.

Fuck that actually. They’ve waited long enough. They have all the time to go slow later. Now? Now they can be rabid and ravenous, biting and grabbing at each others’ flesh. That’s more their style anyway.

Kojiro throws his head back with a delicious groan. Kaoru only picks up the pace, riding him like it’s his fucking job.

“Kaoru, Kaoru, Kaoru…”

God, he could get used to this. He intends to get used to this, to Kojiro’s enormous body entwined with his, warming his bed, his moans, making his eyes roll back in his head just like that.

Kaoru whips his hair to the other shoulder and brings their mouths together again, panting heavily into each other’s mouths, touching foreheads damp with sweat.

“Kaoru… I’m not gonna last, Kaoru.”

He pours a kiss into his mouth. “Give it to me, Koji. Cum.”

He does what he’s told for a change. Liquid white heat runs through his body and seeps into his veins. Kaoru comes long and thick on Kojiro’s heaving chest, having an out-of-body experience or maybe ascending to a higher state of being.

He watches himself take one slender finger and drag it through his mess.

He marks Kojiro with a singular kanji, drawing it right there on his chest.

Mine.

Mine.

It’s so base of him. And certainly petty. He watches understanding dawn on Kojiro’s face and he worries he’s gone too far.

No. He needs to know.

“No one else.” He leaves no room for argument.

“There never was anyone who could live up to you anyway.” Kojiro agrees all the same, tucking a loose strand of pink hair back behind Kaoru’s ear.

He relaxes and drapes himself along Kojiro’s side, legs still tangled together. Their breathing slowly returns to normal and Kaoru can’t help but smell him. He needs to burn this into his memory in every conceivable way.

Kojiro shifts like he means to get up and start cleaning them off, but Kaoru grips his large bicep and effectively pins him with his gaze.

They can clean up in the morning. For now, they just let it sink in.