#this was suggested to me and I had to draw it

[keyaho]

.summary. a continuation of the previous chapter. Terry makes a bold move on Nami and gives her some well earned softness.

.kinks. choking, collaring, implied oral, sexual intercourse, suggestive language. 3021 words

.warnings. minors do not engage, you are responsible for reading material that is age appropriate. this story is written for those 21+. this chapter is a bit shorter as it's a continuation.

“Give me that pussy,’ Terry growled. 

The sound was deep in his throat. His already low voice was deeper, richer, hungrier. Nami could only moan as he stuffed her pussy with his dick. On her hands and knees, Terry’s hand pushed down on her shoulder and pulled up on her hips. 

She wiggled her hips backwards, swallowing his thickness in inch by inch. It was a little past two in the afternoon and she was fucked out. How he was able to draw out pleasure from her made Nami cross her eyes. She focused on his hips, the way they pounded against hers, and how his balls slapped up against her clit. She was salivating herself, drool coating her chin and chest, wetting up the sheets.  

"I know that shit feels good,' he cooed, his tongue lapping at the shell of her ear. 

Two orgasms in and he was fucking her towards her third. He’d already filled her with his cum and was itching to do it again. She was a mess between her legs. A creamy white mess. 

“Sir,’ she whined as his stopped moving. 

“Mh?” He asks coolly, ‘whatchu’ need besides this dick, Nami? You shouldn’t be asking for anything else right now.” 

Her lips puckered together as she whispered so breathlessly he barely heard it. “Okay.” 

Terry had given her a little more vocal leeway. Her replies had to be respectful with no cursing. He’d let her little, okay, slip because he could feel her shaking in his hands. She was still sensitive from this morning and he knew it was pushing on uncomfortable. Terry brought her back from sub space a while ago and was keeping her engaged to avoid a second slip so soon. 

“Can I share something,’ he says, his thrusts quickening as he pulled her up and threw his arm around her neck. His other landed on her belly, locking her in place while supporting her lower body before he rallied his strength and fucked into her. 

Nami stared up at the ceiling. His bicep and forearm applied heavy pressure to her neck, the choking method felt like a boa constrictor. His arm was so thick. He applied just enough pressure for her to feel it while cutting off just enough air she soaked his dick from the pressure and he could feel it leaking on his thighs. 

“There you go,’ he whispered, very close to her ear, ‘wet that dick up, pretty girl.” 

He listened to her cries and screams. Egged on by her vocal offerings, Terry rubbed hand down between her legs, thumbing the sensitive clit that was swollen and needy. 

“I can’t wait for you to touch me,’ he grunted. “Those soft pretty hands on me? I. Can't. Wait.” He punctuated his words with hip shattering thrusts.

“Please, please, please,’ she begged, voice thick with desire just for the simple act of touch. 

“And that’s why I’m making you wait,’ he hissed. “I like hearing you beg.” 

Nami was at his control, arched back into his vice grip as her pussy fluttered around his dick. “Because as soon as I do, I’m at your mercy,’ he admitted, ‘and baby, I just can’t have that.”

Terry leaned against the cart, his attention divided between the cart filling with Christmas ornaments, a Oreo Frappuccino he kept secretly sipping, and Nami, who was pacing the isle. He made the mistake of eating the last of her doughnut holes and when he slid his seat back in the car, egging on her on to suck his dick, she got out and walked towards the store, a pout on her lips. The last thing she needed was more sugar than her frappuccino and the doughnuts had been grabbed from a street vendor back at the market. Though he bought them, he denied wanting one, until his hand dove into the bag and pulled out the last one. It just so happened to be raspberry filled. Her favorite. 

"Nami,' Terry called out, bumping her thigh with the cart. 

"You ate my doughnut." 

"I can go back to get you more,' he offered, again. 

"No. I don't want them anymore." 

"Then come drink this,' he said, holding up the cold confectionary drink. 

Nami frowned. "It's melted and I don't want it anymore." 

Terry let out a small laugh, his face twisting into a smile. "You're upset over the doughnut?" 

She placed the pink ornaments back on the shelf and faced him. 

"You said you didn't want any!" She replied, voice just above a whisper. 

Nami grabbed the cold drink from him and wrapped her lips around the straw before taking a long sip. She yanked it out her mouth as her head began to chill. 

"Do you want more?" 

"You already asked me that." 

"No, I said I would go back. I'm asking if you want more." 

Nami walked around him with her cup, disappearing down another aisle as he tapped his fingers on the cart before following her.

It had been her idea to decorate a tree at his place since he didn't have one. She had her own, but the chance to get a new tree and ornaments took over. After Terry and her had showered and dress, she begged him to bring her out to find a tree. Though they were at her place, she wanted to put the tree at his. The cart was already filled with ornaments in green and silver. She had asked for his input and he was terrible at it. Picking out ornaments that didn't match in color. Left up to him, the tree would have been neon orange, black, and gold. 

"You mad at me?" 

He had stepped up behind her, his hand on her waist as she looked through the different color and shape of boxed lights. The drink in her hand chilled her palm. Blocked by his body, Terry slipped his hands down the front of her skirt. 

"Sir,' she mumbled, 'someone can see." 

He looked around at the semi busy store and shrugged. Pulling his hand back, he patted the side of her thigh. 

"Then hurry up. I have something for you anyway." 

It was a few things actually and he was glad she pushed him to put the tree up at his place. Everything he had for her would stay there unless he moved it. Nami watched him walk to another aisle before she followed behind him. 

"Wait,' she tossed the drink in a trash and caught up to him at the stockings. "What do you have?" 

She stood there with her hands behind her back. Looking up at him, Nami pursed her lips in question. He hadn't given anything away and she wasn't sure where they were in their relationship to buy him gifts. That must have shown on her face because he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

"Don't worry about it Nami,' he said.

Her shoulders dropped a little as the tension released. She would still get him something, but she at least had time and another opportunity to view his place to see what he might like or want without directly asking. Terry was a quiet man and his house looked like a page from a minimalist magazine. From what she saw of his room all his things wer put away, shoes lined up perfectly along the wall, no stray clothes, and even his fridge was organized. Everything had it's place, including her. 

Nami, anticipating what his surprise were, found the lights she wanted and tossed enough in the cart to string around the 8-foot tree. 

Nami made Terry move the tree around five times before it ended up back where it first started; by dining table right before the hardwood floors changed to tile. Her black tree skirt stood out against the frosted leave christmas tree. She hadn't paid attention but the tree also came with little red berries on some of the branches, giving it depth and character. While he found an extension cord, Name began placing the pink and white ornaments. When he came back, he knelt beside her and plugged in the extension cord for her. He kissed her bare leg and up her thigh before wrapping her arms around her waist.

"You are distracting me." She mumbled.

She clenched the ornament in her hands and looked down at him. He pushed up her shirt and kiss her belly, mouthed around her waist as his head disappeared under her shirt. The warm air sent chills over her body as Terry's tongue licked at her inner thighs.

"Finish the tree, baby,' he replied.

This was the first time she had spent a holiday with a man in almost four years. It was weird, considering their dynamic, and comforting. This past semester had been hell before Terry came into her life. The balance and structure helped her flourish. She didn't dread going to class. She was present and focused. She wiggled her toes and leaned forward, trying to put the balls on the branches, but he was taking up space.

"Sir,' she wiggled her legs, his forehead was resting on her stomach.

"Nah,' he says. His fingers pinch the back of her thighs and she yelps. "Try that again."

"Oh! Sorry, Daddy,' she relaxes in his hold. It was hard to tell of his changes when she couldn't see him.

Nami leaned forward again and was startled when Terry picked up her leg and hooked it on his shoulder. He held her tight so she kept her balance, but she hated she couldn't see his face. Nami twisted around, searching for other ornaments when her leg buckled. Terry's tongue had slipped out his mouth and pressed against her clit.

"How am I supposed to,' Nami whimpered.

Terry had started to lower her to the floor, the ornaments were out of reach at this point and her legs were pushed apart. She reached down and pulled up her shirt, his dark green eyes and focused on her. As handy as the no panty rule was, sometimes she wanted to throw them on. His mouth was lethal and she knew when he locked in on her like that she wasn't going out without at least two orgasms.

Terry tilted his head upwards and she followed his gaze. Rolling over, Nami crawled towards the decorations and let out a small 'oof' when Terry grabbed her ankle. She had one of the boxes in her hand and laughed as he dragged her and the box back towards him.

When he finally let her finish, he was watching her from the couch. She moved around the tree with ease, changing the spots where she had placed an ornament or flower. Terry watched Nami admire the tree when she was done. His apartment looked a little more festive and it wasn't a total eyesore among his cleaner aesthetic.

"Come sit."

She moved towards Terry as he sat up. He reached into the table and for a second Nami thought he was getting her cuffs. Instead he pulled out a black square box and placed it on her lap. She knew it was kink related, but what else could he have? The anal ring he given her earlier was replaced with a slightly larger one already.

Opening the box, she shut it just as quickly and then gave him a surprised look.

"I was not expecting this,' she says, opening the box to stare at the diamond tennis necklace. It was very simple, dainty, and perfect.

"Collaring is important. We'll be in spaces of like minded people and I want them to know you're spoken for. Permanently."

He took the box from her and had her kneel between his legs with her back to him. She moved her curls out of the way as he latched the necklace around her neck, officially making it her collar. She turned around and he admired it. The way it sat against her collarbones, how it sparkled just enough, and the goofy and apprehensive smile on his subs face.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing wrong,' she says, 'I….its a bit overwhelming."

It was a representation of their relationship and her acceptance of it. Nami reached up to touch it while excusing herself to the guest bathroom. She looked in the mirror at her collar. She could feel his expectations now. The necklace was beautiful and light, but it was heavy with responsibility. After about ten minutes, Terry knocked on the bathroom door.

"Nami,' he said, 'are you okay?"

She looked away from her reflection and opened the bathroom door. "Yes. I just needed to process what this means."

"It means you're my only submissive. It means you trust me with your body. I get to call you mine."

Nami nodded, but he knew what the problem. She needed assurance. She needed to be told.

"You're my submissive in bed and when I need you to be otherwise. You're also my girl,' he saw the change in her eyes, the way the softened to him. "I'm going to take you out as much as I slut you out."

Nami next surprise made her overly excited to the point she bounced up and down when he told her. Now that he had been able to indulge in her the least he could do was really reward her for being so good. It made shivers slide down his spine, but the pleasure on the other end of it kept him hard from the moment he told her until now. In the guest room, her last surprise was in his, he told her to get comfortable. Her back was against the headboard and her legs were spread. Terry had crawled between them and kissed her gently before exhaling deeply. He could see the excitement in her eyes. He’d finally given her permission to touch him and she instantly had been over zealous. She was bubbling with excitement as he complied with her want. He turned his body, his back to her chest, and she adjusted herself some so that he was partially on the pillows beside them. Nami ran her nose along his neck and watched his hands begin to clench at his sides.

Her tongue flattened against his neck and he jerked to the side away from her.

“You playin’,” he hissed.

Her ten minutes of exploring his half naked body were winding down. Nami kissed his shoulder, her right hand rubbing down his chest and stomach. The muscles clenched and the tent in his sweat grew.

“Oh?” She whispered, her fingertips snaking beneath the waist of the sweats. “Can I touch?” She asked. “Pwease, Daddy?” Her nails made small circles on his lower abdomen and Terry stared up at the ceiling as he tried to pull control from thin air. He was shaking as pleasure coursed through his body and he knew if she touched him what would happen.

“Yeah, go ahead baby. Touch Daddy.”

Nami slipped her hand in his sweats and he watched then felt her dainty palm wrap around the base of his dick. Pre cum leaked from the top and her thumb swirling the mess down to the base of his dick on one long and slow stroke.

“Oh fuck,’ he groaned, sinking into her embrace.

Her other hand was on his neck and she wrapped her hand around it to apply some pressure. She didn't waste time pulling him free from his sweats. Instead, she stroked him and they both watched the way his body began to tremble each time her hand moved.

"Shit." He cursed, his foot planting on the bed.

Nami stopped her hand at that, her index finger tapping his neck. "Put that leg down,' she said, a little commanding essence in her sweet voice. Terry did as he was told, grinning, but softly moaning as she resumed playing with his dick because that's exactly what she was doing. Playing.

He could feel her breath on the side of his face. Her breaths were long and drawn out to match the slow stroke of her hand. Downwards, she breathed in. Upwards, she exhaled. Her hand around his throat tightened and he could feel the points of her stiletto shaped nails dig into his skin. The pinch of the acrylics made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He melted into her arms, his hands clenched the sheets and the moving tent in his sweats pulled deep guttural moans from his chest.

“You’re so big Daddy,’ she whispered, her tongue dancing around the shell of his ear. “So thick,” she mumbled in awe.

Her hand barely wrapped around him. Nami glanced at the timer and began to slow her strokes. As much as she was enjoying it, she didn't want to get caught up and have to stop. Terry sat up, slight confusion but then the timer went off and they both jumped at the shrill sound. Nami pulled her hands away and placed them in her lap. When Terry turned to look at her, she wore a large grin on her face. She was more than please with herself for making him feel the way he did.

She noticed his face was scrunched up and he hd turned so his boyd was face her. Between her legs, Terry grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head with his own. He took the other and tugged her down so he could rest between her legs. He added the other hand to his grasp, and she dropped her legs to the bed, creating more room for him. Terry's dick was hard pressed against her sex, heavy, and hard.

"You're getting some rules for touching tomorrow,' he says while tugging down his sweats.

"Oh,' Nami replies, already lifting her shirt towards her head. She couldn't hid her smile from finally wearing him down.

He stoped it at her hands and twists it to keep her hands bound. He could feel the heat from her sex and with one well practiced stroke, he was buried in her cunt for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

I went through my tag list and removed blogs with no ages, lack of interaction, or the blog just looked empty. If you were removed and would like to be added back at least have your age in your blog.

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair @nubiagurllll @zillasvilla

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

[winterstelltales]

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then. 

 The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you. 

 You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath. 

 His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared. 

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

 You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders. 

 Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection. 

 You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap. 

 “What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

 But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more. 

 You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s. 

 “It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

 “Sorry,” you said softly.

 The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

 “Is something bothering you?”

 You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. 

 “No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

 Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them. 

 He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit. 

 You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth. 

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air. 

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him. 

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

 “You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

 “Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you. 

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him. 

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke. 

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry

[evajzcks]

between light and shadow ── tom riddle

summary: you ran away after discovering you were pregnant during your final year at hogwarts. three years later, you and your son are in danger, and to protect your child, you must return to him, your past lover, tom riddle.

warnings: tom riddle x reader, the timeline is a mess, both tom and reader are 21 in this

word count: 1,8k

the grand dining hall of the manor was illuminated by a cascade of floating candles, their warm glow contrasting with the heavy, imposing decor. you entered with mattheo’s hand in yours, the little boy wide-eyed as he marveled at the room’s grandeur.

tom was already seated at the head of the table, his piercing gaze softening slightly as he saw them approach. he gestured to the seats beside him and mattheo immediately climbed onto the one closest to tom.

“is this where you always eat?” mattheo asked, his voice filled with innocent curiosity as he looked at the vast table.

tom’s brow furrowed, clearly unprepared for the child’s inquisitiveness. “most of the time,” he replied carefully, his deep voice tinged with an awkward stiffness.

“do you eat alone?” mattheo pressed, his head tilted.

tom hesitated. “yes.”

“that’s sad,” mattheo said matter-of-factly, his bluntness drawing a stifled laugh from you. you quickly masked it with a sip of water, though your eyes sparkled with amusement.

tom shot you a look that was equal parts exasperated and confused before turning back to mattheo. “it’s… practical.”

“what’s practical?” mattheo asked, his small face scrunched in concentration.

tom blinked, clearly unused to being questioned so persistently. “it means… useful. efficient.”

mattheo nodded solemnly, as if tom had just imparted a great wisdom. “do you like being alone?”

this time, tom hesitated longer, his gaze flicking to you as though searching for an answer. you raised an eyebrow, smirking at his discomfort.

“sometimes,” he finally said, his tone quieter.

mattheo tilted his head again. “do you have any friends?”

you nearly choked on your water, quickly covering your mouth to suppress the laugh threatening to escape. tom’s lips twitched, his patience wearing thin.

“i have… associates,” he answered stiffly.

“what’s an associate?”

you let out a soft giggle, unable to hold it in any longer. “mattheo, darling, why don’t we let mr. riddle eat his dinner in peace?”

“but I like asking questions,” mattheo said, looking genuinely puzzled by your suggestion.

“and mr. riddle isn’t very good at answering them,” you teased, your grin widening as you met tom’s glare.

tom’s jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—an unfamiliar warmth, even as he fought to maintain his composure.

“perhaps i’m simply not accustomed to interrogations during meals,” he said, his tone dry but lacking his usual sharp edge.

“that’s because you’re not used to dining with company,” you quipped, reaching over to ruffle mattheo’s curls.

tom watched them, his gaze lingering on you as you laughed with their son. for a moment, the cold, calculating mask he always wore seemed to slip. he looked almost…human.

“mattheo,” he said, his voice softer now, “do you enjoy living here?”

the little boy shrugged. “it’s okay but mama says we won’t stay forever.”

you stiffened slightly, your eyes darting to tom, who had gone very still. his gaze was sharp as he turned to you, the unspoken question clear in his expression.

“we’ll discuss that later,” you said quickly, your tone firm as you focused on your plate.

mattheo looked between them, clearly sensing the tension but too young to understand its weight. “i like the library,” he said cheerfully, breaking the silence. “it has so many books! did you read all of them?”

tom’s lips curved into a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “most of them.”

“wow,” mattheo said, his admiration genuine. “can you show me which ones are the best?”

“perhaps tomorrow,” tom replied, his voice softer now, though his gaze remained locked on you.

as the meal went on, mattheo’s questions continued, ranging from “do you like cats?” to, “if you’re so tall, can you touch the sky?”. you found yourself laughing more than you had in months, your heart lightened by your son’s innocence.

but every now and then, you would catch tom watching you, his dark eyes unreadable. you couldn’t tell if he was irritated by mattheo’s endless chatter or if he was quietly mourning the time he had lost with his son.

as they finished dessert, mattheo yawned, his head nodding sleepily against your arm.

“i think someone’s ready for bed,” you said, smiling as she scooped him up into her arms.

“goodnight, mr. riddle,” mattheo mumbled, his eyes half-closed as he rested his head on your shoulder

tom nodded, his gaze following them as you carried mattheo out of the dining hall.

when they were gone, tom leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty space where they had been. he was unaccustomed to the warmth that had settled in his chest during the meal, and he didn’t know whether to embrace it or push it away.

all he knew was that y/n and mattheo had a way of making him feel things he thought he had buried long ago—and it terrified him.

tom sat in silence for a long moment, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the table. his thoughts swirled with confusion and something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. the little scene with you and mattheo had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.

he had lived his life by control, by power—everything within his grasp, manipulated and ordered. but tonight, with mattheo’s innocent questions, the laughter in y/n’s voice, and the unspoken bond between them, it was as though everything he thought he knew had been turned upside down. the reality that he had a son—his son—was still too raw to fully comprehend.

he hadn’t expected this. he hadn’t expected them to feel so… normal. so human.

“this isn’t what i wanted for you,” he whispered to himself, though the words were not directed at anyone in particular.

what was it about you? why did you make him feel things no one else could? the thought lingered in his mind, clinging to him like a shadow. even as his cold, calculating side tried to push it away, something in him resisted, drawn to the warmth you provided despite everything.

minutes passed, and eventually, he stood up, smoothing down the fabric of his robes. his fingers brushed the edge of his wine glass, but he didn’t drink—he wasn’t thirsty. his mind was elsewhere.

fhe sound of mattheo’s soft laughter echoed faintly from the hall as you tucked him into bed, and for a brief moment, tom considered going to check on you—just to see, just to… but the thought vanished quickly, replaced by a sharp twinge of anger.

what would it even mean? to go to you now, to step into their world? was he really ready to acknowledge the life he had never asked for, yet was bound to in a way he could never escape?

he needed to focus, to remember his purpose. his empire, his power—those things mattered, didn’t they? everything else was secondary. everything else was just a distraction.

and yet, the more he tried to focus on his plans, on his goals, the more mattheo’s innocent voice echoed in his mind, asking questions about cats, the sky, and his tallness. it’s ridiculous. he wasn’t even sure how to answer a question like that, but the way mattheo had looked up at him with such trust—it had nearly broken him.

when you returned to the dining hall later, your footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floor, you found tom standing by the grand windows, looking out over the darkened grounds. the moonlight cast long shadows, the silence in the room almost suffocating.

you watched him for a moment before speaking. “you’re thinking too much, tom.”

he didn’t turn, but you could hear the soft exhale of air he released in response.

“i always think,” he replied, his voice low.

you took a few steps toward him, pausing just behind him. for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to watch the way the light hit his profile—the way the years had shaped him, the hard edge of his jawline that once seemed so cold, now softened in the moonlight. despite everything, despite his darkness, there was still something that called to you.

“i didn’t expect mattheo to… be so curious,” he said quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. “he doesn’t fear me like everyone else does.”

you took a breath, your hands folding in front of you “he’s just a child, tom. he sees the world through different eyes.”

“i suppose.” his voice was distant, but you could feel the tension building in him. “i didn’t expect him to want to talk to me.”

“he’s a little like you,” you remarked, your voice soft. “he doesn’t know any better.”

tom looked at you then, the intensity in his gaze sharper than you remembered. “and you? do you still think of me as someone who can be reasoned with?” he asked, his tone suddenly more biting.

your chest tightened, but you met his gaze steadily. “i think of you as a lot of things, tom,” you replied, your voice calm. “but the truth is… you’re not the person i thought you were. you’re not who you showed me you were back then.”

his eyes darkened, but you noticed the flicker of hesitation before he spoke again. “what does that mean?”

“it means that i’m not so sure about you anymore,” you said, your words carrying the weight of the past three years of uncertainty, fear, and betrayal. “you’ve changed… but so have i.”

tom’s gaze hardened, and he took a step closer to you, his presence consuming the space between you. “you still think i’m capable of the things i’ve done,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “of course, you do.”

“i think you’re capable of more,” you answered, your voice steady. “but that doesn’t mean i trust you.”

tom’s jaw clenched, but there was something else there, something unreadable in his eyes.

“i never wanted you to trust me,” he said, his voice softer now. “i wanted you to understand me.”

you looked at him for a long moment, your heart heavy. “i don’t understand you, tom,” you admitted quietly. “i don’t think I ever will.”

there was silence then, a pregnant pause between them as the distance stretched thin, and yet, despite everything that had happened, there was something that lingered in the air—something neither of them could quite grasp. tom’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for you, but he held back.

and in that moment, you realized that you might never truly understand tom—you might never be able to. but perhaps, just perhaps, that was the very thing that made him so dangerous.

this is my christmas present to y’all. got so excited writing this that I already wrote the part 2 but i might only publish it in 3 days, so comment if you want to be added to the tag list !!!!!

[taylor-titmouse]

2024 Book Retrospective

i did this last year for all the books i released in 2023, and i've been looking forward to doing it again for this year because it was Such a wonky ride. i released 3 new novellas, collected 3 old ones in a new illustrated release, put out a new freebie, and dipped my toes into artbooks for the first time. that's not even including the multiple extra things i wrote this year but will release next year. it felt to me like i barely got anything out in 2024, but looking back i really did plenty.

anyway let's get into it! these will probably contain spoilers for the books because i want to talk about them openly. if you haven't read them yet... they're on sale for 40% off until the new year!

The Masson Circle Collection (1-3), released in January

so! we started out the year with this updated version of some of my earlier works. daffodils, carnations, and laurels were among my first forays into publishing novellas, and were the last of my romances before i transitioned more deliberately into erotica. the distinction is practically arbitrary since i do still write about people in love, but it's not the focus so much as the sexual titillation.

but anyway. because these were romances and not Porn (despite having explicit sex in them), and because they came out before i'd really hit my stride as an erotic author/illustrator in 2021/2022, they never got the attention i'd have liked for them! they were the last before i made the switch to properly illustrating my books; they had sketchbook sections at the back instead. i started the roger crenshaw series shortly afterward, which is when my work really took off. so it's like these stories just missed their window.

but i wanted people to read them! these stories and characters are dear to my heart and i felt like they deserved a fair shake, so i spent a month or so at the end of 2023 revising the text to be closer to my standards (though they were pretty good to start with!) and made 30 new illustrations for it. i kept myself Busy getting this ready. it would be a huge release to kick off the new year!

.... and then it didn't do very well anyway. lmao. maybe i priced it too high, maybe i didn't hype it enough, maybe it's because as much as i love all the characters, they're hard to draw and not as exciting as a monster of the day. who knows! but i'm glad i did it, if only for myself. as i've said, these stories were important to me and my growth as an author. if you like historical queer romance with a crime thriller edge, something like kj charles (because she was my biggest inspiration at the time) you should check these out! i promise they're really good despite being on the older side.

The Long Road, released in May

boy that's a big gap between january and may. so what happened there is i actually wrote the night guest first in january-february, and then the long road in march-april. but IMPORTANTLY, i learned my editor @petitemortality was going to become available for work again in april. it'd been probably a year since i'd had his hands on my work and i was Gasping for it. i've compared it to receiving the sponge treatment--just being put through the wringer and coming out So much better for it after a year of bad habits and complacency building up. so basically i put all publishing on hold until he could Fix Me.

and then i ended up rewriting both of those books practically from scratch based on his advice and godddd they really Were so much better for it. it's AGONY in the moment, but the work is worth it. anyway let's talk about the actual work huh.

the genesis of these characters is So funny, because i don't think a single one of them was created for the purpose of this story, rather they all existed as various mobs/nobodies to draw. the goblins and bandits beside vanesse were just designs i used a few times when i wanted to draw characters getting gangbanged. vanesse and angre were created Just for a patreon suggestion of "trans femme bandit queen fucking a trans masc knight". and tourmaline only exists because i wanted to draw a princess getting gangbanged and eveline didn't feel "right" for it anymore. and i ended up with this perfect mishmash of characters that slotted together into a story so naturally that i remember waking up in the middle of the night and banging out the outline in the notes app before falling back asleep and starting to write it the next day.

and it was received pretty well! it had a ton of buildup from me drawing the characters constantly for the duration of the writing and doing a ton of public worldbuilding for dwarves. god i love the worldbuilding for the dwarves. i'm desperate to get deeper into it, i just need to find the story for it. and the goblins. everybody loves the goblins and so do i. and vanesse. ahhhhh.... i'm just so fond of everybody in this book lol. just a big confluence of Toys.

oh yeah and since last year i picked favorite scenes, i think my favorite is angre's internal monologue at the start of his chapter. we get a lot of the worldbuilding there (so of course i like it) but also the Point of the book comes together. i'd struggled a lot with that whole bit in the first draft, but the final draft really just *chefs kiss* it works, for me.

The Night Guest, released in July

as i mentioned before i actually wrote this one much earlier into the year! and immediately had known it wasn't ready, and so backburnered it for months until my editor could essentially fix it. and he fixed the hell out of it. it was a directionless mess in the first draft because i hadn't figured out the characters' voices, what they actually wanted, why they behaved how they did, none of it. it was his idea to structure it more deliberately like an old folktale of a woman outwitting a best, and it snapped into place. of course it was a nearly total rewrite that added like 7000 words (and to this day i'm still not sure how) but it was completely worth it. i feel like i've said that multiple times in this post but it's always true. i cannot stress enough how much i was gasping for a good editing. it's like a cleanse.

this is another story that just sort of Happened out of nowhere. mrs. arakawa was a side character in the dragon double feature 2, and people liked her, and asked about her getting her own monster boyfriend, and so toru was born. partially to get practice drawing that bodytype, partially because i think onis are hot, and then the general shape of a story came to me and i started writing it. without a perfectly clear vision of what it would be. and that's how we got to where we were at the start of this. oops.

i have two favorite parts, the first being this illustration:

when toru is describing the oni woman he was supposed to marry. his entire narrative arc and personal struggle was constructed for the purpose of this joke. i agonized for DAYS, maybe weeks, trying to make his motivation of "i didn't want to get married" work with mrs. arakawa's own feelings about marriage and him having to leave at the end and come back and all of that. it was killing me. but it worked out in the end and i'm so happy it did because i still think the joke that he didn't want to marry a shoujo nadeshiko archetype because he thinks she's ugly is fucking hilarious.

my actual favorite scene is him and mrs. arakawa telling each other stories about themselves. i had a lot of fun trying to ape the rhythms of kabuki performance and rakugo with it.

Spring with the Unicorns, released in June

technically this ought to go before the night guest because it came out first but considering i wrote the first draft of the night guest in january *waves hands* it's all loosey goosey anyway

so this came about because i had the idea to do a book called Season's Breedings (so many of my books happen because i thought of a title and worked backwards from there) and it was literally just going to be the breeding habits of fantasy fuckworld creatures arranged by season. i wrote this one first because it seemed the easiest and then it was less than 4k words, and every other story i had in mind was going to be Much More than that and also didn't come together as easily. so on a very last minute whim i illustrated this and threw it out for free on the last day of pride.

it's me at my loftiest because i was going for a sort of third person omniscient fable type beat, because that's what unicorns deserve. i like it, and it's a good little treat to give out for free. especially because everybody loves the unicorns and loves asking me the same four lore questions and i can just say 'go read the free story' lmao.

it's too short to really have a favorite Scene but barberry is my favorite unicorn. just love everything about that guy. angry little bastard.

Poker Night with the Arizona Dogs, released September

it's not prose but it counts! this is the first artbook i've ever released, though technically not the first i ever made. the unicorn stockades series came before it but will be released sometime next year. it's a bit more spring-seasony. but anyway.

these are a lot of fun to make! i am, at my heart, a comic artist (my day job is graphic novels, buy my graphic novel it comes out in february) so telling a single story in multiple illustrations is kind of my bread and butter. and free use/gangbang stuff is like. perfect for it. everybody has to get a turn! and on top of that it lets me play in a space in a way prose doesn't. prose feels so much more official, more canon (which is how i think of the difference between my drawings and my books--books are canon, drawings are not). but with something like this it's easier to say it was just for fun. because it was! it was a lot of fun.

my favorite illustrations were the jackie-ralph licking ones (because i think i did a good job with the mouths and the folds and all) and the one with johnny with his hand over roger's face and hiding his own. jackie-ralph is probably my favorite of the dogs to draw because he's easiest but johnny is certainly my favorite of the Boys.

Objects of Affection, released in December

boy, this one huh! there is so much to say about this one. this one has like three separate catalysts that blasted together at the end of the summer and it just Happened all at once. there was a person requesting variations on "a mechanic taking advantage of an android they're repairing" for a few months on patreon that i kept meaning to do because it kept winning second place. there was another story i wrote that was too short to publish alone that i was like "okay what if i make a sci-fi anthology and one of the stories is robots..." and then i started rereading chobits for inspiration and it Pissed Me Off So Much how little it wants to engage with its own ideas.

and then the sci-fi anthology idea became only about the robots and i never published the original little short (which will come out next year as a freebie). and then my editor's computer Exploded for two months and he wasn't able to edit it ; ; the wait was Agony because this was one i really, Really did not want to release without proper feedback. something fucking Possessed me with this book and what it says about women and consent and masculinity and all the shit. like those are themes i've already touched in my other works, but in this one it was like turning the knob on a pressure cooker.

it's tough to think of what to say about it that i didn't say in the days after it was released. i've always been frustrated with robot stories that preoccupy themselves with the Theory of rights for artificial life and not the reality of rights for the people we already have. i'd watched astro boy 2003 and pluto shortly before starting (so i guess that's actually 4 things that came together) so Robot Rights!! stories were fresh in my mind and i'd found astro boy particularly frustrating with its insistence on pacifism from the oppressed robots as the government and populace kept abusing them. it is very hard to watch something that says "violence is never the answer! don't fight back, choose peace!" while your own country is aiding and abetting a genocide and obsessing over retribution for a single attack born of decades of settler violence as if they are in any way equivalent.

breathes out

so anyway that's why i chose to write about robots who undeniably do not have sapience, humanity, or rights. because we haven't come even close to solving the issue of rights for ourselves, particularly women (an admittedly easier topic to approach in an erotic work than the horrors of racially motivated war). and between chobits, which suggests a world obsessed with androids but doesn't deeply explore the social ramifications of a female-shaped servant class, and my research into real dolls, the closest thing we already have to fuckable brainless androids, there is a lot of material to draw inspiration from. how a person treats an unperson, particularly one shaped like a woman, will reflect upon how they treat a real person, a real woman.

to be less of a bummer and talk about the Stories, ratna's was the first i wrote, and went through the most revisions between drafts as i tried to figure out her whole deal. she was always going to be a stone butch dyke mechanic, so how would that sort of person feel in her line of work? would she be a stereotype of man-hating lesbian, and sympathetic to the android girls she has to send home with them? or would she be an unrepentant sleeze, just as bad as everyone she works for? i think i ended up somewhere in the middle. she doesn't like men, but doesn't think of herself as better for not being one. she thinks she's better because she isn't better, but at least acknowledges it. and figuring that out was important to figuring out the character. and also going in way harder on the beauty of the mechanism. that was mainly for You Guys, but it was crucial to her character working.

touma and shima's story came to me like a lightning bolt as i was leaving for a vacation. it was going to be, if you can believe it, Even More toxic yaoi. touma ws going to jerk shima off from behind as he fucked mari-ko, it was going to be way more explicit that he was mainly attracted to shima. but ultimately none of that served the actual purpose of the book, about treating people as objects and tools, so i dialed it back. but don't get it twisted touma is still insane and obsessed with shima and wants to touch his cock. but the story as it exists is a more realistic place for him to be at.

and samart and marinette's story was pretty much unchanged from first to final draft. the concept waffled a bit before i started writing, where my first idea had been that he makes her participate in taboo fantasies (calling him big brother, telling him no etc) and the narrative basically asking the question--is this wrong? is it better because she's not real, because he's doing it with her and not a real woman? does her 'no' matter if it's a 'no' she was ordered to say? is it worse because she can't meaningfully consent to the play either way? does any of it matter beyond the effect it has on him?

but as much as i'm interested in unpacking those concepts, i decided they would be too difficult for the audience and potentially open me up to scrutiny and abuse, because you can't even breathe the word "incest" without having your doors beaten down. the book as a whole is difficult, and i want it to be difficult, but i didn't want it to become about That. so instead i went with exploring the sort of loneliness and misanthropy of a person who lives the way he does, and i'm satisfied with it. i think it's the sharpest of the three stories.

wow i had nearly twice as much to say about that one than the rest. lol.

but that's it! that's everything i released! as i hinted throughout there were several other things i wrote this year that will see release next year. i have a free short, a $3 short, a novella awaiting editing, and at least two more artbooks to release. there'll be plenty for me to write about in next year's retrospective.

my writing goal for 2025 is to finish a novel. i did actually reach a finished draft with starbuster, the novel i've been pecking at for the past two years, but having done so and mapped out all the work it needs to be submission-ready, i've put it down semi-permanently. it simply needs too much and it's a bit too niche for traditional publishing, and it's in a genre (contemporary) i don't really want to write more of. so the best use of my time is on something else. it's a shame, but it's for the best! hopefully something will crack me upside the head with inspiration and it'll just Happen like all my best work seems to, lmao.

but if you've read all of this, or just read some of it, thank you!! thank you for supporting me for another year, or the first year if you just got here. if you haven't read everything i put out in 2024, it's on sale until jan 1st! go pick it up for cheap!!

[xxcrumbxx]

Dca slasher au belongs to @wyervan :]

Hehehhe im happy to report I finished some ruff outlines for the fellas ,im thinking about redoing the lineart agin thats why im calling it "ruff" lol also moons lookin at sun he duse not have snake eyes I just noticed it kinda looks like he duse lol . I wasent shure what there wepons would look like +i dont draw wepons alot so ehh .

Anyway hears anouther wip , Ive been crankin out wips scents the day bf crismas eve bc i got my present early and its a drawing tabllit:0 shes so pretty and fun to work with named her blueberryand I hope we can make wonderfull things together :] . Hehhe

also ofc @wyervan you diserve kind words :] anyway l hope you have a lovely time and that im not bouthering u with the amount of lore im giving my y/n also i gess you added to ur slasher au playlist or i just didnt lisen to it fully (bc my phones a lil janky and pauses things when i listen to long) idk why but man you got some good mf songs on oh and i have a suggestion that might fit the fellas its.

slipknot -viruis of life. *and ik its maby just couenceadence but somesongs lind up so well with my y/n and boy oh boy thats what kick started me into the purfume wip( the masks name is purfume bc when i was making it i was inpashent and tryed it on bf the paint was dry and it was aird out from the meltd plastic where i reshaped it anyway the fumes gave me a headake lol i made purfume a in 2023 and have been doing tutch ups and reinforcing it ever scentse :]

@r0tting-rat hheh*seth rogan laghf* so i just read ur kind and lovely tags when i was about to post , im so happy u think that :] and the thing about them in full body in my stiyle welll hehehaha I love when shit lines up lol ,im glad yall like the cuddly fellas, so um hope you injoy them ik its not full body ill get around to that when i get use to drawing them .im still figureing em out :] heheh yay moots lol. Btw i raad youre writing prompt thing fore the slashers and dude that guy so desurved it like dont sell drugs to kid mf .. SELL EM TO ME >:] lol ( just weed and shrooms plz jack ass jake or what ever the loud ass's name was ) i love moons little song and how freekiy cute sun was at the door dude was sutch a distraction lol :]]

Lil tid bit about what i did last night bc I had fun [ affter cut ]

Okay so I was drawing for awhale affter coming back from a eve party at my stepdads moms place ( idk what to call her) and around like 1:23am I got bord and so I walked to the park in my town bc its just down the rode . On my way there someone was playing Abrahcadabra ( good song ) on speekers in there house so I took my earbuds out to listen to it bc it ecod nicely down the street anyway I swung for like awhile whal smoking then went down the wet af slide ( it rains alot hear) and then i just kinnda swang a bit more .i also found gold and silver confetti on the ground whitch i obveusly keepd bc pretty( and it reminded me of the Dca's Anyway i walked around for awhile listaning to misic and "dance walking" awile as in 3 houers and found new trash every time i tryed to leave so i threw it away which i had to walk back to the biger side not far away but still a good bit

( i fucking hate litter) but it started to feel like someone was messing with me bc like when i whent back to the spot i picked trash up from there was new trash . I kid you not there where 12 fuckin burger king shuger packits on the ground and shoved in the crevis of the sidewalk ??? They where full to and i just >:0 who even has 12 unopend packs of burger king suger packiets ???? Why would u even have that ??

[leighsartworks216]

Knitting Hands

Zayne x gn!Reader

Sometimes you be knitting when you have chronic joint pain and wish a certain doctor was there to help soothe the ache

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, knitting

Word Count: 821

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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The metal needles click quietly against each other. Gentle scrapes as you draw the needle through the stitches. Alongside it is the occasional turn of a page. The soft thwip, the whisper of fingers sliding along the page, the transfer from one side to the next.

The silence should be suffocating. It should be unbearable. There was a time when it used to be. Back then, neither of you really knew how to handle the silence, assuming your own expectations from past relationships or the advice of others (friends, colleagues, and movie characters alike).

Now, it's welcoming. It's warm.

When your thoughts slow and the world comes back into focus, you can rely on the slow inhale and exhale of Zayne's breath. You can look over and see him reading. It’s a book you recommended to him after relentlessly teasing him about needing to branch out from medical texts. Sometimes, he'll even look up at you, too, with a grin reserved only for you.

Your world is brought back into focus now by the strain on your hands and fingers. You slot the right needle into a stitch on the left, wrap the yarn around it, and hook it on, dropping the old stitch. Repeat verbatim until you reach the desired length.

It's not a difficult project - a simple scarf, built with rows and rows of knit stitches that fade between different shades of blue. The only issue is the size of the needles you work with. They're smaller than you're used to, requiring more precision than your normal set. But this yarn was just too pretty to pass up, you simply had to use it.

The clicking of the needles gets slower, but more forceful, as you get through this row and to the end. Your left hand is beginning to severely cramp by the time you transfer the last stitch over. It creaks and tenses as you place silicone stoppers onto the ends of the needles to keep the project from slipping off.

Similarly, Zayne slots a bookmark neatly into his novel and sets it aside. He takes one of your hands in his before you can even set your needles down in your lap, massaging the sore tendons and muscles with practiced fingers.

You lean your head on his shoulder, watching as his thumbs press into your palm.

"You should take more breaks," he says, speaking low to avoid breaking the atmosphere. He rubs along the sections of your fingers, easing out the lingering tension there. "It won't all unravel if you take a second to rest."

You let out a pleased hum. The soft knit of his sweater caresses your cheek as you nuzzle further into him, closing your eyes and basking in his care. "And what if it does?"

He sets the first hand down and lifts the other. He goes through the same movements as before. "Then you can make it all over again, with well-rested hands."

Since when were you this tired? It seems like the longer you stay there, resting against Zayne, the heavier your eyes become and the foggier your brain gets. You stifle a yawn. "How's the book?"

"I like it," he answers. He kisses your head knowingly, setting this hand back in your lap. He doesn't pull away, and you twine your fingers together in your lap. He draws them closer to his leg. "The main character acts a lot like me, doesn't he?"

"Ah, you noticed?"

"Is that why you recommended it?"

You shake your head lazily against him. "No, I thought you'd like the plot." Your words are beginning to slur together.

He hums thoughtfully as he rests his cheek on your head. Your mind feels as though it is floating on water. Bobbing in the waves, lost to the rest of the world.

"We should get you to bed," he suggests, "before you fall asleep here."

You rub mindlessly at the ring on his finger. "If I did, you'd carry me anyway."

"Mhm. Is that what you want?"

"Hm?"

"For me to carry you?" Zayne smiles to himself. There is a special kind of sweetness in watching his beloved fall asleep. The way your brain slows down, uncomprehending, as you give in. The fight you put up trying to speak until the very end, until you can't anymore. The way your body unconsciously clings to him, ever pulling him closer. It's an honor, truly.

"Hmmm, maybe."

He kisses your head, almost as though apologizing for having to let go of your hands. You let him go. You sit back up, sort of, and let your hands sit limply in your lap. The couch shifts as he sits forward and moves your knitting project aside. He makes sure the silicone stoppers are on there well, ensuring it won't all unravel in the night.

He's pretty sure you're fast asleep when he stands and lifts you in his arms.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[burntheedges]

Bits and Baubles 🎄

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader | 2.8k | masterlist | ao3

summary: it was towards the end of the Christmas market season, and at first it seemed to be a market day like any other. That is, until the man in the green robe whirled into your life.

a/n: happy @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa, @whocaresstillthelouvre! I loved learning about your Christmas decor. I hope you enjoy learning about Dieter's! 😂 thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me figure out this idea!!

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, suggestive and/or explicit Christmas ornaments, dildos, meet cute

...

You were working your stall, talking to a customer, when you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. Dark hair and a lurid green robe flashed by, but he was gone before you finished packing up the ornament. By the time you looked around, he’d disappeared into the market.

A few minutes later you were putting out more stock when you saw him again. This time he was dashing through an open area between rows on your left. You got a better look, but it only inspired more questions than answers – he was wearing plaid pajama bottoms, an old t-shirt, that lurid green robe, all topped with messy curls and sunglasses. 

Whoever he was, he seemed to be in quite a hurry. He dashed from stall to stall, sometimes chatting briefly, sometimes running off before the vendor could even get a word in. 

You had to look away when another small group approached your stall, and you put the strange man out of your mind.

The market was going well for you. Like most years, it was popular and crowded, filled with people doing some last minute holiday shopping. The stalls had a wide variety of holiday decor, gifts, crafts, and more.

Your ornament stall – Bits and Baubles – usually made people do a double take. You had a wide selection of ornaments, from the typical shiny balls to funny jokes to a special annual one you made each year (and you loved that people had started collecting them). They were all handmade by you over the course of the year, including the non-holiday decor you didn’t usually bring to markets like this one.

The biggest draw, though, and the thing that made people look twice, was the adult selection at one end of your stall. These were also handmade, and usually drew a wide variety of reactions – laughs, raised eyebrows, offended huffs. But they were also your most popular items, especially the wooden vibrators (painted in shiny colors) and “double baubles.” You loved when someone let out a genuine laugh at the sight because they usually bought at least one.

The small group moved away (after a nice assortment of purchases) and you looked up to find the man in the green robe staring at your stall. He was standing about 15 feet away and seemed to be scanning your offerings from one end of the table to the other.

When his gaze reached the adult section, he froze. You wished you could see his eyes, but they were still hidden behind his sunglasses.

His jaw slowly dropped, gaze locked on your small display of vibrator ornaments. He started to move towards you and you realized he was walking straight towards the display.

When he reached you, he looked from the ornaments to you, and then back to the ornaments. He reached out with one gentle hand and brushed his fingers over the golden dildo ornament. A huge grin slowly took over his face.

“These are amazing,” he breathed, looking from the ornament to your face. “Did you make these?”

You grinned back at him. “I did!” You waved your hand around your stall. “I made all of these.”

His mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as he looked in surprise around your stall. “Shit,” he murmured, taking it all in. “That’s fucking amazing.” He turned back to the adult section, and turned the vibrator ornament display. “Do you have more like these?”

You tilted your head, surprised. There were about 30 ornaments on the display, and more of different kinds on the three next to it. “More than these?”

He nodded. “I need two hundred and fifty ornaments. And these are so perfect, I mean, I never expected to find anything like this!” He smiled again.

Your jaw dropped. “Two hundred and fifty?”

“Yep,” he agreed absently. He started poking through the neighboring displays, face full of delight. “So I’ll definitely take all of these and more.”

“Wait,” you said, head spinning. “All of these? What… what for?” You couldn’t believe it. That was… more than you expected to sell at the market, for sure.

He blinked, and seemed to realize he hadn’t explained well. “Oh! I’m having a party. A holiday party! I used to have them every year, but it’s been, um.” He grimaced. “Well anyway, it’s the first one in a while, and I need party favors. The party is famous for the party favors, or at least it was, before. We were decorating and getting set up and then oh, Dieter, where are the favors? And suddenly I realize I don’t have any. I forgot! Can you believe it?” He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “We’ve got a completely empty tree that is supposed to be covered in party favors. So I ran over here, hoping to find something. For tonight.” He gestured at the market around you, and you nodded, a bit stunned. “I think I looked at every stall in here. And then I saw you… your booth.” He grinned. “And these,” he pointed at the vibrators, and nudged a hot pink wand with his finger, “are perfect.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. You still couldn’t believe he wanted to buy basically your entire stock. “Ok. Well, I’ve got about eighty out on the table, and I probably have enough to get to two-fifty. But they’re not here, I didn’t bring my entire stock.”

His brow furrowed. “Oh, is that alright? I really will buy them all.”

You nodded. It was late enough in the holiday season that you knew most of your regulars had already gotten what they wanted, anyway. “Of course. Let me pull up my inventory and I’ll get you a price.”

He waved his hand dismissively, and when he did his green robe fluttered around him. “Whatever number you find, double it. Wait, could you possibly deliver these? Tonight?”

Tonight? You considered. The market would be over in a couple of hours, and then you were planning to head home and get ready for a night out. Not one you were particularly looking forward to, but you’d bought the ticket ages ago to give yourself something to do the Saturday before Christmas. “Deliver where?”

He gave his address, and you realized he must have a massive house, judging by the neighborhood. But it wasn’t too far out of your way, so you nodded. “I can do that. What time is the party?”

His shoulders sagged in relief as he said, “8. So maybe you could come before, then, by 7?”

“Sure.” That should work for you. “Let me get you a price, and we can do half now, half tonight.”

He waved his arm again. “I’ll pay it all now. And go ahead and triple it, for the delivery.”

You hesitated with your hand on your computer. “Triple?”

He nodded, smiling. “And wait, can you box these three separately?” He pointed at the shiny gold dildo, the sparkly rainbow suggestive clam, and the bright purple double baubles. “I think I want these for myself. Oh, um, assuming there are enough, otherwise.”

You had already pulled up your inventory, so you nodded. “Of course. Here’s the price.” you angeled the screen towards him as you started to pack up his ornaments. 

By the time you looked up, he had added another zero to his payment. Your jaw dropped.

“You… you really don’t need to–”  you started, shocked. 

He just smiled at you. “Yes, I do.”

As you fought to keep your gaze from tracing his smile, you smiled back. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

He nodded again. “And please bring as many of your business cards as you can! Or something like it. I can’t wait to share these with everyone.” He grinned at your display. Suddenly he moved, so quickly it startled you as you were starting to box up all of your displays for him. He smacked his hand into his forehead. “I never introduced myself. What was I thinking? I’m Dieter.” He shoved his sunglasses into his hair and held out his hand to shake. You gripped it slowly, meeting his eyes for the first time and trying not to notice how cute he was. He held on with both hands as he shook it. “It’s so great to meet you, you have no idea! I have to go, though, before I get yelled at for taking too long.”

You smiled as you shook his hand and introduced yourself. “You too, Dieter. I’ll see you later.”

He turned to leave quickly after that, as much of a whirlwind on his way out of the market as he’d been while searching for favors.

…

At 7:00 pm sharp you pulled up to a large, gated house, a bit taken aback by its size. It was even bigger than you’d expected.

You were waved easily through the gate, and when you pulled up behind a catering van the front door flew open. Dieter stepped out, grinning, and you were suddenly glad your reaction to him was hidden by your tinted windows. 

Gone was the robe and pajama pants outfit from earlier. He was clearly dressed for the party in a black velvet suit and a deep green lace shirt that drew your eyes like a magnet. His hair was still messy, but it seemed purposeful this time. He’d been attractive, of course, earlier at the market, and now somehow he was cute and devastating. And he was smiling at you like you were the best thing he’d ever seen. 

“You made it!” He said, hopping down his front steps. You smiled at him as you stepped out of your car, nervously adjusting your outfit. You were dressed up, too, for the show later. It was one of your favorite outfits, one that made you feel hot and sexy and mysterious, and you felt your cheeks start to warm as he gave you a once over. When his eyes returned to yours, you were both smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. But did you have plans? I’m sorry—“

You cut him off. “No, I was going to see a show downtown tonight, but it doesn’t start until later. And I’m not meeting anyone so there’s no rush.” You decidedly did not mention that you’d changed your outfit plan at the last minute. 

Dieter smiled again. “Ok, good. I mean, not that you’re going alone. Or maybe you prefer it that way! Just, I’m glad I’m not interrupting anything. Um,” he trailed off sheepishly.

You smiled again as you gestured towards the trunk of your car. “I’ve got everything ready for you. Should we take it in?”

He nodded, and soon you found yourself standing inside his foyer next to an absolutely massive tree. It was only decorated with lights. 

“This is the tree! I was hoping, that is… would you like to decorate it with me?” He looked at you hopefully. “I’ve been banished from the kitchen and told to take care of this, and I figure you’ll be amazing at it.”

You agreed, deciding not to examine your urge to stick around too closely. Dieter went and got you both a drink before you got started. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize that decorating a tree with Dieter was the most fun you’d had in a while. He giggled as he opened every single ornament, crowing over each one and praising your skill and ideas. By the time you’d gotten through the first box (of mostly dildos) your face felt hot and you could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up from all the praise and close proximity. 

“Ok I think we spread those out pretty well,” you said, gesturing towards the dildo-covered tree. “Now we can spread out the double baubles, too, and then the others.” He nodded, giggling again, and you smiled back. 

“These are so ingenious,” he said, holding a double bauble and a shiny clam with a pearl in his hands. “Did you come up with the ideas yourself?”

You nodded, ducking your head a bit. “Some and some with friends. I have more ideas, too, that I’ll make someday.”

Dieter seemed to light up at the idea of more ornaments. “Will you tell me when you do? I want to buy them all!” He grinned as he hung a “jingle balls” ornament on the tree, a double bauble with bells attached. “I had no idea people even made ornaments like this.”

“I’m not the only one, for sure, but it’s definitely fun. They’re some of my best sellers.”

At that he seemed to wince, but he didn’t leave you to wonder why. “I didn’t buy them all, did I? Is that bad? Will people be mad?”

You smiled, a bit touched by his concern, and laid a hand on his forearm. The velvet of his coat was soft under your hand. “Well, first of all, you overpaid for them, so I can’t be mad at you. Second, I’ve still got a few more. And third, it’s so close to the holidays, most of my regulars have already gotten what they wanted. My shop isn't that big. There’s nothing to be worried about.” You winked at him and squeezed his arm, and watched with amusement as he flushed. “Besides, you already promised to tell everyone where they came from. What more could I ask?”

He grinned. “Of course! Everyone is going to love these, you’ll see.”

You kept chatting as you decorated the tree, learning that his party planner and best friend Leah had been the one to banish him from the kitchen (“she’s such a tyrant, I don’t know what I’d do without her”) and that it had been about five years since he last hosted his famous party (“my life was pretty different, then, so this is kind of a triumphant return and a new start”). He waved his arm towards the living room as he said that, and you glanced over and did a double take. 

There was an Oscar sitting on his mantle. 

As you put it together, you wanted to kick yourself for how long it had taken you to do so. He was Dieter Bravo — that Dieter Bravo! The famous one! You could only blame your absolute obliviousness on how ludicrous it would have seemed a day ago that Dieter Bravo would buy out your entire adult ornament stock. 

Your mouth kept moving without conscious input from your brain. “Oh, you’re Dieter Bravo,” you blurted, and then winced as he stiffened. “Sorry, I’m an idiot, I just didn’t realize. I promise not to be weird about it.”

He tilted his head, considering you, and then started to smile incredulously. “My name was on the order,” he pointed out with a laugh. 

You winced again. “I know. I think I was too distracted by you to think about it.”

Dieter seemed to think about that for a moment and then stepped a little bit closer to you. “Distracted? By me?”

You nodded, just then realizing what that sounded like. “You, um... pulled your sunglasses up. When you told me your name.”

He grinned. “And I only forgot to tell you my name because I was so distracted by you, the cute ornament seller who grinned so wickedly when you told me about the dildos you make by hand.” He reached down to grab your hand and lightly teased at your fingers with his own. 

You felt your face start to heat again. “Cute? Me?”

He nodded. “And then you showed up here in that,” he gestured at your outfit, “and I almost fell over in the driveway.”

You laced your fingers through his and squeezed. Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Lace Shirt!”

Dieter laughed, unrepentant. “I was hoping you’d notice.” He squeezed your hand, looking suddenly shy. “I know you said you had plans, but do you want to stay for the party?” He looked at you with big, pleading eyes and you felt yourself start to melt. “I promise it’ll be fun. I’ll show you off, of course, but…” he trailed off and tugged you closer. “I think I’d like to keep getting to know you.”

You grinned. “I’d love to.” 

He lit up like the tree he was standing next to, and you felt warm all over at his obvious excitement. You quickly placed the last few ornaments before he dragged you down the hall to give you a tour. 

The party was, in fact, a great time. And so was the mistletoe you found yourself under with the host at the end of the night.

...

a/n: I hope you enjoyed it, Mallory!! 🧡🎄

[peasant-player]

Molinde the sewing Lady of the Noldor

This is from my friend her original Noldor OC .

She wrote a funny and lighthearted post about her here!

I love drawing original characters and I had tons of fun!!! More of that please ❤️

The details behind a OC are so adorable and I love the passion behind such works!!

Don't be shy to introduce me to your OC. I'm always open for suggestions to draw and I have a paid week vacation so plenty of time ~

I add some face close ups and chibi here

Have a great day my lovelys ❤️

[goodluckclove]

I just remembered I have more updates on my newest in-progress tableau of famous media characters drawn entirely from my own memory. I've decided to make the setting a mall food court and I'm working out from the first drawing - which, if you remember, was a T4T Shadow/Sonic the Hedgehog requested by @mercuryytheraven. August saw and described my depiction of the notable hedgehogs as "terrifying".

As you can see, the nightmare has grown in detail.

Pencil for now until I know I'm done with the rest of the detail. Let's go through and take a closer look.

Below is a Pikmin, requested by @xarrixii. I think I was essentially right right these guys. No notes. He works at Panda Express.

Above him is supposed to be one of the Krogans from Mass Effect, which @mushroommanchanterelle kindly allows me to call "Frog Man". I also tried to remember what Krogans are called, and by the looks of the name tag I guess I went with "Grogbert".

I would say my Krogans are...

Listen. All roads lead back to Egg in Chinos. That's not me talking, that's evolution. Moving on.

@mushroommanchanterelle also requested Waluigi, and I had to respect their common law marriage by depicting him with Wario. I LOVE this Wario I created. He is a quiet man and he's eating a slice of pizza with a fork and knife. I love him. He looks Polite. This is his treat for the day. I have no comments on Waluigi aside form the fact that I gave him near Slenderman-esc proportions and assless chaps.

So my Link was a suggestion from @themuseinthewoods, who seems just so sweet and when you see this please know I did not intend to start our friendship off by taking a well-meaning ask and turning into some nude, dummy-thicc puppet abomination. I saw Link and immediately was like "hey dynamic posing is important and I know Link loves to eat trash" - which, in retrospect, was probably the cough syrup talking. I started mouth-first, another poor choice. He was actually going to wear clothes, but then I asked my wife what Link wears and Riley insisted that Link is occasionally nude. They then went on to say I had to make the ass bigger.

They added the fart. Art is collaborative. I am sorry.

Anyways I need more suggestions if anyone has them. I'm looking for famous characters to draw in terrifying ways. If I know them I'll draw them from memory, and if I DONT know them I'll put them in my second tableau of guys I have no visuals for. The setting is a hospital, and so far it's just a terrified Piplup suggested by @fukurouonthesea.

This guy's seen some shit.

[jadasmp4]

★ PAIRING: ARTIST!MADISON X FEM!READER

★ warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content ★ a/n: shit writing but im bored so like why not ★ SYNOPSIS: Madison gets the idea to tattoo reader while they're hanging out.

The rough scratch of a pen against paper filled my ears as I laid on one side of my bed with my eyes closed. Near the edge of the bed was Madison, sketching whatever her mind could think of on a random piece of mail that was thrown onto the table, either earlier today or maybe a month ago. Who knows how long ago? Its anybody's guess. We’ve been laying around in my room for like, 2 days. Doing whatever really. Watching rick and Morty, doing each other’s makeup, etc etc. I open my eyes to glance at her once I can't hear the pen anymore. Madison's by the edge of the bed, laying on her stomach and swinging her feet back and forth in the air. She's admiring her work, or maybe critiquing it as she scribbles a part of the drawing out. I'm drawn to the way her slender fingers hold the pen tightly. "Would you ever want a tattoo?" She asks, with a soft voice like she's scared to penetrate the silence in the room. "Mm.. yeah, why not? I just don't have the time to go out and get one." I say, turning my head to give her my full attention. I examine the thoughtful look on her face as she gives her drawing another look. "Now's a good time, right?" She turns her head to me. Her eyes flicker over my face, taking in every feature as if searching for something. "I dunno, mads. I hate needles and I don't think you have any tattooing experience.." My thoughts were cut off by her scooting beside me. I feel my heart rate increasing slightly. I've always been a little scared of needles, but the thought of getting a tattoo from Madison… That's different. "Take off your shirt." She says, so demanding I almost want her to keep directing me. I watch her lips move when she speaks. They're glossy and perfect. God, I'm soaked. Okay but seriously, what? Like, huh? "What..??" I say out loud this time. I can feel my heart beating. Definitely faster than it was a few minutes ago. She gives me a look like- 'I'm not repeating what I said,' so I just do it. I'm not fully exposed, i still have a bra, but it stills feels weird. Like, forbidden for your friend to see you almost naked. But I kinda like it. The shirt had some random indie rock band on it that I couldn't care to listen to. Can't tell you the name since I threw the shirt on the floor. Whatever, who needs shirts when Madison Beer is telling you to take yours off.

She straddles me right after successfully pulling my shorts down long enough so that they're now low rise and I swear I'm going to have a heart attack. I feel her thighs rest on the sides of me and not to mention her slowly lowering herself down on me? I think I just saw the light. I swear I could cum right now from the view of her on top of me. Madison's eyes rake over my bare skin, and I can feel myself blushing under her gaze. She grabs some chunky ass pen from somewhere on my bed and the piece of mail she was sketching on before. She also puts on some gloves. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Madison says, sensing the worried look on my face. She traces a medium sized image in the bottom right area of my waist. It kinda tickles. I have goosebumps. While she traces the image on my midriff in pen with one hand, another is laying right below my bra. If only she would move her hand up just a little bit, rip the cloth right off and jump my bones right here, right now. She looks up and scans my face, her lashes flicking up and down with her eyes. "Gosh, y/n, you're so red.." She smiles smugly. "Gosh, Mads, you're so annoy-" I gasp quick, feeling a kind of quick pricking, or a burning sensation on my midriff. My gaze falls on the chunky tattoo pen shes holding in the air. "don't move." Her voice was low, a bit raspy maybe, as she focused on my skin, dropping her hand and the pen back down on the outline. I would let out a guttural moan at the sound of her voice if it was socially acceptable between friends. "Maddie, seriously, go easy on me. This hurts like hell.." I whine, no lie I'm being dramatic about it. "It would hurt a lot less if you shut your pretty mouth and stopped moving. Maybe like, 15% less.. 20%, give or take." "only 20..?" Pouting, I swoop some hair out of her face so she doesn't fuck up my perfect skin if she can't see. Minutes, or maybe an hour passed of Madison tattooing me and she was finally finished. She fully sat up to admire her work while caressing up my waist and around the tattoo. Her fingers trace gently along my skin, sending small electric shocks through my body. It's like she's mapping me out, learning every curve and scar. The butterflies in my stomach were having a boxing match and I swear with how silent it was she could definitely hear them. I shiver involuntarily under her touch and she notices. Hazel eyes snap to mine and with a provocative smirk she leans in close to the shell of my ear. Her warm breath on my ear mirrors the warmth I feel growing in my panties. She leers, enjoying the effect she's having on me. Her hand continues to explore my body, skimming across my ribs. "What's the matter? Can't handle a little teasing?"

[guilty-pleasures21]

The last of the real ones

No context, no explanations. Just words and emotions spilling onto my keyboard. Listen to the songs for the full experience.

An only child of the universe

The waves

Wet concrete pt II

This whole damn city

Does your therapist know?

Too good to be true

The only one

Warnings: eventual descriptions of grief and sex.

----------------------------------------------------------

"I was just an only child of the universe ... and then I found you."

     “So what’s the deal with this Bruce Wayne guy?” X asked him, hopping from crunchy leaf to crunchy leaf as Jason kicked a pebble on the ground beside her. He shrugged, still unsure what to make of the situation. 

     “I dunno,” he replied honestly. “He’s kind of weird. But he seems nice!”

     He turned to face her, his green eyes wide with excitement as he thought about the man who’d formally adopted him and taken him in. “He has this huge house with all these books and he lets me read any of them! Oh! And he also has this guy, Alfred, who’ll cook me anything I want! It’s pretty great.” 

     He nodded knowingly, as if he’d suddenly become decades wiser than his mere eight years of age. X paused to consider his words, trying to imagine an enormous house with an endless room filled to the ceiling with books. She’d been left at the orphanage when she’d been too young to remember and would sneak away on occasion to roam the streets, begging for spare change with her wide, almond eyes and her helpless little pout. She always managed to draw the attention of passers-by with her cute and innocent demeanour and Jason had taken advantage of the distraction she provided to pick the pockets of some of the people who’d stop by to help her. She’d caught him immediately after the first time, racing after him and grabbing the back of his shirt before he could run away from her. She’d demanded that he split some of his earnings with her - since she’d technically contributed to his success - and ever since then, they’d been inseparable. 

     “Wow,” she finally replied, her voice soft with awe. “Even chicken?” 

     “The good kind,” Jason agreed, causing X’s jaw to drop even further. He snickered at the stunned expression on her face and reached for her hand, easily slipping his fingers between hers. “You should come over! Alfred’s going to be making a roast tonight!” 

     “Like the kind those rich people always have on TV?” X asked, swinging their hands together. Jason nodded vigorously and the two of them began making their way back to his new house.

“You are the sun and I am just the planets, spinning around you.” 

     The two of them sat next to each other in the batcave, puzzling over X's new vigilante name. Jason had convinced Bruce to adopt his best friend a while back and the both of them had quickly begun their training to become the next protectors of Gotham. 

     “What about ‘Batgirl'?” Jason suggested, keeping in line with Bruce's chosen theme. X twisted her lips in disagreement. 

     “I want a bird name,” she argued, turning to Jason with wide eyes. “Like you! Then we can match!”

     Jason shook his head as a smile tugged on his lips, but he shuffled a little close to her anyway. “Hmm … What about ‘Dove’? They're small and cute! Just like you!”

     X's frown deepened. “But I don't want to be small and cute! I want to be scary! People will be scared of you because they already know Dick!” 

     Bruce's other adopted son always took good care of them when he came over from Bludhaven. He wasn't as bossy or serious as Bruce and he could do so many cool gymnastics tricks! Jason and X had quickly decided that they liked him and were always following him around in awe whenever he dropped by Bruce's place to visit. 

     “And it's too short, too!” X continued, rocking back and forth as she mentally listed all the problems with the name. “People probably won't even hear it the first time. ‘Look out, it's Dove!’ ‘Love?’ ‘No! Dove!’ Who's going to be scared of that?” 

     She turned to Jason in question and he had to agree that she made a good point. They sat in silence for a moment longer,the both of them thinking. Then finally, X spoke up. “What about ‘Nightingale’?”  

     It had been a year ago, when X was still living in the orphanage, that Jason had been abandoned at home alone by his mother again. The two of them had been playing outside when the sky had begun to darken, signalling an incoming storm. X had gone home with Jason, whose house had been just nearby, but when they'd gotten back, they'd found it devoid of any adults. The two children had huddled quietly under a thin blanket, trying to block out the raging fury of the storm outside. But it had banged on Jason's windows so viciously that their little hearts had pounded with the fear that it would burst through the already fragile panes of glass. Finally, X had broken the tension with a melodious tune, her voice so soft at first that the thunder had easily overpowered it.

     ‘I can't sleep tonight, wide awake and so confused.’ Jason had curled his arms even tighter around her as she sang, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and X had raised her voice in response. ‘Can you be my nightingale? Sing to me, I know you're there. You could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep. Say you'll be my nightingale …’

     Finally, the storm had slowed, as if soothed by X's reassuring words, and Jason, too, had relaxed his grip on her. 

     ‘Can you be my nightingale, X?’ he'd asked, his words muffled by where his mouth remained pressed against the side of her neck. 

    ‘Of course, Jay Jay,’ X had promised him, patting his back reassuringly. ‘I'll always protect you when the storm comes.’

     Jason took her hands in his, his little face set into a serious expression. “I like it.”

[claraswritings]

chef luca x reader, where they met at Ever the resteraunt during training and they are having sex for the first time once they finally start dating

Omg yes, I love this idea 🥰🤤.

Warning: pure smut, Reader is smaller than Luca (but he’s like 6’2” so that’s most people), Luca is very attentive and caring, no real reader description, Luca’s big (it’s me writing him so of course he is), no mention of protection, Luca uses lots of pet names (darling, my love, babe), cute little confession at the end.

With Luca it was so easy

Any other guy you’d dated it had felt like a chore to go out with them, you’d twist yourself inside out over the idea of meeting them, dread of having to fake laugh at their jokes, worry that they’d talk you through their ‘alpha-male’ podcast and then walk home at a half jog in the hope they wouldn’t invite themselves in.

But with Luca? It just made sense. You’d met at Ever and as soon as you’d seen him your stomach had flipped. You’d expected him to be cocky, arrogant and a workaholic. He was gorgeous and talented how could he not be… but as you’d became friends you’d realised he was kind, generous, funny and sweet. Then he’d asked you out.

(Accidentally, you joked- he’d suggested that you go to a food market in the city to try a little of everything for research-although he insisted it was on purpose).

You’d never looked back after your first date. He’d been a total gentleman. He’d always walk you to your train station and kiss you goodbye, he’d bring you in cakes he’d made to sample, but he was also spontaneously romantic and he’d squeeze your hips in the kitchen as he went behind you or dip kiss you when you were alone.

He was just perfect.

****

The dress you’d worn was discarded somewhere in the corner of the room as he’d had it unzipped and pushed down as soon as you’d both entered his flat.

You’d stepped out of it, too lost in trying to unbutton his shirt to remember exactly where it was. He pulled off his shirt and scooped you up high with one strong muscular arm with ease, lifting you til you were closer. His lips found yours, meeting them in a soft, open mouthed kiss.

Your legs wrapped around his middle and you pressed kisses to him urgently, one hand around a toned bicep and the other cupping his face as he held you close.

Luca walked around the room, lost in your kisses until he met the bed and carefully laid you down, showering you with kisses across your skin. He lay between your parted legs as you made out slowly.

“Luca…” you muttered. “Please….”

“You sure about this?” Luca whispered as his lips brushed the hollow of your throat. voice was lower than you’d heard it before and it made the heat pool between your legs.

“Yes,” you nodded distracted as he kissed across your clavicles and gently unclipped your bra without removing his lips from your skin. The straps slid down your shoulders and he carefully removed them and dropped it somewhere off the side of the bed before moving back to graze his lips down the hollow of your neck.

His hands came to your breasts, squeezing softly before he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking and grazing the hardened peak. The elicit moans he pulled from you only encouraged him, and he moved across to your other breast, drawing more incredible sounds from you.

Luca drew back only for a few moments to kiss your lips before he was back kissing your breasts again and teasing lower and lower until he gently reached the line of your underwear. He kissed along the curve of your hip and down your thighs.

Can I take them off?” Luca murmured, his breath hot against your now damp thigh. If he moved his head slightly, his mouth would be ghosting over your folds, through the underwear.

You nodded “Yes, Luca, yes, please…please take them off.”

His hands went to your hips and gently pulled down your underwear.

“Lu-,”

You wouldn’t have time to even be self conscious. You were cut off as he pressed his mouth against your folds, his tongue parting you and lips pressing into you as he lapped up the wetness soaking from you, desperately.

The gasp that came out of your mouth was sudden.

“Fuck Luca…” your hand carded in his soft wavy hair as his tongue worked against your core, making his mouth with you as he delved into you.

You arched back as he moved to circle your clit with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard and slowly before picking up the pace.

Had it ever felt this good? You’d had a few boyfriends before and some that you’d even loved but even with them it didn’t feel like this. Luca continued lapping his tongue in a stripe from your core to your clit, circling it, as he pressed two fingers in and out of you.

“You taste amazing” Luca groaned into you and the vibrations caused you to whimper as he moved his fingers faster in and out of you before delving back in, his mouth working you, his tongue unrelenting until you arched up climaxing against his lips. “God I could stay here all day”

“Oh fuck Luca” you whimpered as he emerged from between your legs “that was incredible”

Luca came back up and started kissing you almost instantly. Open mouthed and gentle.

“You did so good for me babe” he said into your mouth and you whined again. How was he this perfect.

His mouth met yours again and you made out, with Luca grinding his hard cock against you, only his boxers between you.

“Luca…” you gasped into his mouth “Luca please”

Your hands broke away from his hair and fell to his hips, pushing down his underwear, releasing his length. You gave him a few pumps with your hand and your mouth fell open as you pulled back to see him fully. You’d felt him half hard before when you’d made out but seeing him ready for you, leaking from his tip was another thing all together

Luca was big to say the least, thick, and you couldn’t tell but you’d guess around eight inches.

“Fuck Luca…” you said and not for the first time that night. “You’re…wow.”

He smiled knowingly. “We can go slow my love”

As you nodded, he carefully leant his hand down and gently spread you, coaxing you open with the tip as he pressed into you a little.

“This okay?” He asked carefully, cautiously not wanting to move further inside you until he was sure. His hand squeezed your hip reassuring you and you nodded, giving him permission to push further inside, letting out a stifled groan as you did.

“Don’t hold back, darling, I want to know if you feel good, I need to know I’m not hurting you”

You smiled and gave him another nod.

“Your words, love.” He said, leaning forward and slipping more of his length into you, stretching you out in a way that felt like he was made for you and you for him.

“Yes…You feel so good Luca, please fuck me baby.”

Your enthusiastic words was all he needed. With a slow and deliberate movement, he pushed even more into you and gasped out at the sudden tightness of you enveloping him and of the elicit moan you let you.

Luca leant in and cupped the back of your head, leaning in and pulling you in for a kiss, giving you a moment before he started to make thrusts in and out of you, pulling almost all the way back before snapping into you with his hips.

His hands found yours and lifted. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, locking your ankles at the base of his spine to keep him close to you.

“Fuck darling you’re…wow”

He was gorgeous but now, with his soft dark blonde waves tousled, perfect lips slightly open and blue-green eyes locked onto yours, tattooed hand holding your hips steady, perfectly toned arms flexing, you swore to yourself you’d made him up.

“God Luca, yes please, please please please” you were begging at this point and you didn’t care “Don’t stop”

He picked up the pace, holding your hips in a way that would definitely bruise as he thrust in and out of you, as you rolled yourself against him faster.

“God baby girl, you’re amazing, so perfect…keep looking at me that’s it.”

As your eyes met his, you felt your core clamp around him, soaking him even more than you thought possible and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Where do you want…” he trailed off “I’m close darling”

“Inside me Luca, finish inside”

“God, fuck babe” Luca gave a few more thrusts as you seized around him, arching back and grinding out your own climax. It was enough to tip him over and with a moan of his own, he pulled back into you and released deep into your core, before kissing you as the last of his orgasm washed over him.

“Wow you’re…” he carded a hand through your hair as he pulled out of you, the groan you made low. “You’re incredible”

Luca planted another few kisses.

“I’ll be right back darling, I’m going to get you a warm cloth and some of my clothes to sleep in and then I’m going to cuddle you”

God he could not be real

***

If it was anyone else, you’d have felt a little exposed and uncomfortable but with Luca, he was so tender and gentle with the warm cloth that it made your heart swell and true to his word he’d brought you a pair of his own flannel pyjama pants and even brought you tea.

“Here” he said gently. “Lift” He edged them up over your legs and hips and then kissed the spot they rested on the middle of your stomach.

Your heart completely melted. “You’re annoyingly perfect, you know” you giggled as he slipped back into bed with you.

“Perfects a stretch, I’m just treating my girl how she deserves”

He pulled the covers up to cover your exposed breasts and stomach and tucked himself behind you “Youre sweet, you’re adorable, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re six foot two!”

At that Luca laughed but you weren’t done “you make me tea after getting me off multiple times, you remember my favourite pastries, you do after care, you’re a giver… you have a huge…”

“Darling!” Luca cut you off laughing, although you wouldn’t see his blush and then kissed your neck.“you’re pretty perfect yourself…”

“Maybe we’re perfect together” you hummed as he wrapped an arm around you. You could feel his smile against your skin and loved it.

“Definitely.” He put kisses along your shoulder. “I love you.” Luca said. There was no way he couldn’t not tell you not after that not after how…he couldn’t help it.

After a moment you spoke

“Luca?” You said with a smile, getting a muffled ‘yes my love?’ in response.

“I love you too”

[crimsondoesstuff]

OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT

HEAR ME OUT, CHAT.

Crossover idea between Mouthwashing and Five Nights at Freddy’s where the FNAF characters take over the places of the preexisting crew. The events go down the same, with some small changes in the scenes and dialogue to fit with the different character’s personalities and shit.

Not convinced? WELL I MADE ART TOO (this was the big project I mentioned in my last post)

BEHOLD! The crew of the Ursine!

I put a lot of love and thought into every little bit of this crossover. Things like the symbolism seen in the original game are referenced (the flowers symbolism, the board game, the attraction to cartoon animals /j), but there are also all new kinds of symbolism I threw in to really bring it all together. I’ll let you figure that out on your own, if you really want to.

(If you want a hint, the directions the characters are looking aren’t just stylistic.)

If you really wanna read more about my idea, I’ll be including more below the line. I just had to pitch this somewhere, I spent a week drawing this and I’ve already written parts of this that I could possibly post here or on AO3. Who knows.

HENRY EMILY, CAPTAIN.

Takes the place of Grant Curly.

The similarities between Jimmy and Curly / Henry and William’s dynamics was one of the main reasons I even got this idea in the first place. Specifically, listening to the song Brutus was when I really started to see the song as both Jimmy and William, and the rest devolved from there. I’ll go into more detail about that in William’s section.

Henry’s kindness, compassion, and dedication to his craft makes him the perfect candidate for captain of the Ursine. Problem is, he never knows when to stop. He’ll work himself until he passes out, only to wake up at his station and go right back to work. He’s on top of all of his responsibilities as captain, but with all the work on his plate, he doesn’t have as much time to handle the personal issues that seem to be arising among the crew.

Henry isn’t completely sure how he got to the level he’s at now, in all honesty. He was once a simple engineer on an older ship called the Tulpar, before being transferred and promoted to Second in Command. Fazbear Express said something about how he’s “good for morale” and “gets things done”, but they didn’t really account for Henry’s introverted personality. He’d rather hide out in the cockpit handling the controls, but that puts him back into a workaholic cycle that Charlie is working to break him out of. He’s lucky he has a daughter like her, and he’ll never stop saying it to anyone who will listen.

After the crash, Henry’s completely incapacitated. Not much else to say. He can do nothing but tremble and cry in pain, trying and trying to form coherent words and sentences, but it isn’t clear enough to the people around him. He feels more alone there on that medical bed than he has in his entire life. And he can do nothing but watch as everything falls apart.

WILLIAM AFTON, SECOND IN COMMAND.

Takes the place of Jimmy Zare.

Like I said before, I got really inspired to make this crossover by the song Brutus, but that was specifically the connection between Jimmy and William. I knew when I started making the ideas for this that the borderline obsession William has with Henry was a perfect fit here. Just utterly disgusting. I hate him. He should die.

William doesn’t have time to put up any sort of front like we see in the books. He has work to do on the ship, and he plans on getting it done as soon as possible with the highest efficiency possible. He wants to look good. He doesn’t care if he looks like an asshole while doing it. After all, he sees the rest of the crew as more of a burden on him than anything, obstacles dragging him back from reaching his full potential. From climbing to the top of his ladder. And yes, that includes his own children. He sees their presence on board the Ursine as a distraction.

Just like it’s suggested in the game, William and Henry were friends before the events of the story. Childhood friends who relied on each other through thick and thin. They both went into engineering, and William followed in Henry’s footsteps. But he was eager to get ahead, to pave the footsteps his old friend would walk in instead. It didn’t help that Henry always seemed better than him. Henry didn’t even want to become a captain, but there they were, running a god damn ship. William hated it. Hated them. It was so annoying how perfect he was all the damn time.

He doesn’t really care what happened to Henry in the crash. He didn’t make them run into the cockpit as the ship ran straight into an asteroid. That was their own stupid decision, and he had to clean up after their mess. Now that he was captain, just like he wanted, he planned on doing things right. Keeping the crew together. Despite the utterly hopeless situation at hand. It doesn’t help that emotions were never his strong suit.

CHARLOTTE “CHARLIE” EMILY, MEDICAL OFFICER.

Takes the place of Anya Musume.

I don’t know if I want to keep the more serious parts of the character’s story, but I think it’s too important to the plot as a whole to remove it. As someone who’s gone through a similar situation, it was a hard decision to make, but I have to respect the importance of a character’s trauma that makes them who they are.

Like Anya in the game, Charlie did make it to medical school, but never completed it. Her poor mental state combined with the overwhelming workload and the sheer number of years she’d have to be focused on nothing but schooling was too much, and she wasn’t getting the help she needed to keep up. So instead, she dropped out and sent an application to Fazbear Express where her father worked, getting accepted as a field nurse in training. Eventually, she was promoted to medical officer, but without a degree in nursing she was prevented from becoming chief.

Most of the shit she has to do on the Ursine is just scraped knees and the occasional dislocation, all of which she can handle with ease. She’s very confident in her work, and when she first started working on her father’s ship, she wasn’t afraid to show it. But something changed. Slowly, her demeanor shifted, and she lost that lively confidence that made her her. Nobody knew for sure what happened. At least, not at first.

After the crash, Charlie was absolutely distraught. She can barely look at her father when he’s in so much pain, and her job as a nurse is compromised by the rule of not treating family members. Since they have no other nurse or doctor on board, she’s left with the responsibility, but it’s debilitating. She often has panic attacks and break downs in the back corner of the medbay, hiding behind her desk where Henry and the other crew couldn’t see her.

MICHAEL “MIKE” AFTON, ENGINEER.

Takes the place of Swansea Hotard.

When I was deciding who to put in the other character’s places, I instantly thought of Michael and David (the crying child) and the tough love Swansea gives Daisuke in the game. I wanted to take that and make it so Michael is especially cruel to David to try and get the kid to quit. He doesn’t want David to work at this dead end job, stuck the rest of his life in this monotonous lifestyle with little to no time at home on Earth.

Mike is an incredibly hard worker, but he isn’t really sure why. He doesn’t like his job. He never wanted to be a mechanical engineer, and he never wanted to work for Fazbear Express. But when times got especially rough, his father showed up out of nowhere like some kind of stupid white knight and offered to teach Michael everything he knows. With William’s experience, Michael easily got a job with the company afterwards. But he feels indebted to his father for it, which- in the Afton household- is never a good feeling.

After the crash, Henry- who often acted as a sort of father figure for the younger members of the crew- was down for the count, and people were more afraid than ever. Nobody wanted to go to William, so they came to Michael, who tries his best to offer comfort (despite not being very good at it). This is especially true for Charlie, as she relies on him and goes to him to cry, since her father is in no state to worry about her as well as himself. Mike can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sense of obligation put on his shoulders, but nonetheless, he keeps his head high and stands tall as an anchor for the group. Completely unwavering and stoic. Despite the pain he’s feeling as well.

Tensions between Michael and William are constantly high, and the two definitely don’t get along, just like Jimmy and Swansea in the game. And I can clearly imagine the pure hatred and rage in Michael’s eyes as he screams William’s name and chases him down with the axe. If I were to make this into a fanfic, I’d beat around the bush for most of the story, avoiding Michael calling William “dad” or “father”, at least until the part with Swansea’s/Michael’s monologue. Where he’d end it with the simple line, “Fuck you, dad.”

DAVID AFTON, INTERN ENGINEER.

Takes the place of Daisuke Juarez.

Funny enough, despite sharing the same role in the story- the new kid on the block, the intern who’s still getting his ropes- Daisuke and David couldn’t be any more different. David’s weaker, more timid, usually letting others speak for him and scrambling to hide when feeling in danger in any way. And we all know how Daisuke is. A free spirit with a gentle heart and a smile that can light up a room. Despite their apparent differences though, their stories end the same.

Unlike Daisuke, David’s mother didn’t believe he was a slacker. She thought he was too timid. She thought it would do him good if he put himself out there and got himself a job outside his comfort zone. She actually didn’t want him to get a job anywhere near his father (the two are divorced, and things didn’t end on good terms), but William practically stepped in and insisted that David work under his guidance at Fazbear Express. Ironically enough, William didn’t end up even being the person to train David, it was Michael instead.

After the crash, David didn’t know what to do. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he could barely keep himself from crying every time he passed by the infirmary and heard the captain’s cries of pain. He grows more clingy to Michael and his father as time passes on, rations grow slimmer, and painkillers run low. He’s scared, and he wants to keep the rest of the crew safe like his dad and his brother, but he feels too weak and pathetic to contribute anything.

Of course, David gets stronger throughout the story, and begins to believe in himself more thanks to Mike’s tough love teaching style. But it all leads to him getting manipulated into pushing his limits and going in over his head. We all know what happens in the vents.

FREDDY THE TEDDY, FAZBEAR EXPRESS’ MASCOT.

Takes the place of Polle the Pony.

You’d think there wasn’t much to the silly little mascot of the multibillion dollar industry behind the Ursine and its crew, but little Freddy the Teddy is a reminder of everything the crew stands for. Hard work, dedication, passion for the craft. Every poster around the Ursine reminds the crew that they are only a cog in the machine. And no matter what they do, they can’t escape unless Fazbear Express lets them go.

Luckily for them, Fazbear Express indeed let them go. Let everyone go. Just like that, everyone didn’t have a job. After their last shipment was over, that was it. Donezo. I sure hope that doesn’t cause any tension on board!

I’ll finish this off with a doodle I made to celebrate Henry’s birthday!! At least, my headcanon

I thought it was especially fitting, considering the impact of the captain’s birthday party on the crew. (More specifically the events that transpired and the news that was dumped on the crew with little to no warning. Imagine!!)

Thanks for reading this long ass post, I hope you all have a very happy holidays, merry whatever and all that

[swallowerofdharma]

Sorry, I failed to espress myself again. I was answering you but I was not trying to change your mind, just showing how I looked at things.

What I take issue with is the suggestion that readers who approach this story under a romantic lens would be distorting it into something it isn’t, which is what your original post appeared to suggest.

I didn’t say that tho. I made the new post to answer you on this and I am sorry I failed to clarify. I did say that the novel Lolita has been distorted into something else. And that made me think that with Saezuru we can have entirly different frames in mind as well. When talking about Saezuru I was then pointing at the arguments about consent because again, I am not trying to convince you to change your mind: the more you romanticize Doumeki’s intentions and problematicize Yashiro’s previous choices, the more you are shifting the scrutiny on the person who was at the bottom in that scene and who was asking to stop to the person who had taken charge. Stigmatization of Yashiro’s sexual past is the same as victim blaming. Without the romantic lens on, sex isn’t more morally acceptable if it’s gentle and the parts involved love each other, and if consent was revoked then it isn’t right in any case.

Frankly, I’m confused about why me holding the opinion that there is a lot of ambiguity about Yashiro’s consent in those chapters seems to be such a point of contention. I never argued that Yashiro gave any clear consent, nor that he has no right to object, I’m sorry but if that’s what you think that’s purely an assumption you’re making.

Please, don’t take it personally. I am purely looking at the arguments in the debate, not at who made them. I’m questioning the approach of analyzing in depth Yashiro and bringing all the attention to him instead of Doumeki in this case. That’s why I was talking about victim blaming: why you consider Yashiro a victim of his father first and of himself after, but you don’t consider him victimized by Doumeki too, which some of us do. Using Yashiro’s trauma or his past as arguments or putting responsability on him because he came on Doumeki first is taking away attention from Doumeki’s responsibilities and I don’t agree with that.

I like Saezuru because I like that Yashiro, a victim of domestic and prolongued CSA, is portrayed as a strong and independent adult, with problems sure, but not incapable. If you think that he can’t control himself or doesn’t know what he wants when he wants to have sex (which is not the case in every example given in the story), then you must think that maybe Doumeki could have had better control of his own sexual desires and could have waited. We are looking at the same pages, yet our emotional response is different. But at the end of the day, I look at the way Yoneda draws Yashiro after sex with Doumeki and he is always at a low point. To me, it seems that the point was to bring him to break, to experience a crisis. And I am having a hard time romanticizing it.

Personally, I refrain from conflating fiction with reality too much, because fiction doesn't operate under the same premises as reality; I believe to know what Yashiro actually wanted or didn't want based on my understanding of the story and in turn I base my opinion about chapters 23/24 on this belief.

The “I believe to know what Yashiro actually wanted” is a big theme in the manga as of the later chapters too. I find it interesting, because it is a possibility that this is Doumeki’s motivation now. And I am so very critical of it! Hugely critical of this approach, while also understanding that it is deliberate in the story.

In my analyses I will continue to be critical of things, and I can’t see that as a misuse of fiction. I am grateful that you took your time to read my arguments. This remains a place open to discussions as long as we are aware that romantic views about love and sex are not superior nor compulsory to read Saezuru.

Third to last page of ch 25: breaking the fourth wall

Following the discussion from here. Hoping you don’t mind if I make a new post so that the other one doesn’t become too heavy. I’m answering some lingering questions, but I am also saying that I won’t be dissuaded from treating this manga differently. As said recently*, Yoneda takes such care to give details and context to the story, that it is intriguing to look into things with analytical eyes and I can’t see the problem with it. For those who maybe feel like “the story isn’t that deep”, that is more offensive to the author tbh than to me or others in fandom who write commentaries. * @dragomfry said: “It makes our analyses of her work hold extra weight because there are things that she wants us to look for and derive meaning from (rather than us trying to derive meaning from nothing to begin with)”.

So to clear this first.

I can’t quite see why this story would be distorted into something it’s not intended to be if we approach it under a romantic lens.

I am not debating people for approaching the story romantically, but - because some troubling arguments were made about the recent poll - I will say this. Rape culture takes some arguments from romantic and patriarcal views to defend the aggressors and blame the victims instead: this isn’t romanticism’s fault, but the very fact should be at least taken into consideration. [More on this below**]. So several of the reflections I was writing about framing the manga as romance rather than literary realism were prompted by this issue. And reading your thoughts about the story, I can understand where we differ so much: and that is in how we view Doumeki especially, rather than the rest. Maybe you are not romanticizing Yashiro and his trauma, but you are especially romanticizing Doumeki. For example:

I allow myself to indulge in the romanticism of it all; both of them falling in love at first sight, depressed Yashiro finally finding someone who truly cares about him, Doumeki who doesn’t back down when Yashiro rejects him, Doumeki still having feelings for Yashiro even after he shot him in the leg and pretended not to remember him, etc. There’s so much in this story that’s blatantly romantic, almost corny.

There are many aspects of the manga that I do find realistic in it’s portrayal, such as the CSA, what I don’t find realistic, however, is the portrayal of love, the romance. I find it very idealised and romanticised for the most part (i.e the falling in love at first sight (I’ll get to that), Doumeki being Yashiro’s exact type, Doumeki happens to be impotent which allows Yashiro to develop feelings for him, the fact that Doumeki is completely accepting of everything Yashiro does regardless of how Yashiro treats him, the fact that Doumeki is still in love with Yashiro after he shot him the leg, maybe he even stayed in the Yakuza world just to be near him (although who knows why exactly he did that?) Idk maybe it’s just me but I find it very unrealistic. It’s this romantic idea of „there is this perfect person out there who accepts you just the way you are and you don’t have to do anything to keep them happy, you can even shoot them in the leg and they’ll still love you, they’ll stick around no matter what it takes to be with you“.

I can’t pick and choose what I want to romanticize or not, I have chosen to look at things differently, and I am keeping the same approach when looking at characterizarion. When I look at Doumeki, I see as many problems as those Yashiro has. He is the one depressed imo, at the beginning of the story, he is in much worse shape than Yashiro. Yashiro has a support network, Doumeki was isolated in prison and kept family away when he was released. Doumeki isn’t this strong and stoic person who is in love with Yashiro and is therefore shouldering a burden or enduring abuse in the name of love. I have been misunderstood before on this, but I want to say that I look at these characters without romanticizing either of them. I am not so much interested in looking at who is right or wrong, or to paint one character in a better light and bashing another: I want to understand their differences and how they came to be, how the relationship is affected by those differences. This is why I don’t take a shipper’s approach either, I am not solely focused in their relationship, but in the story as a whole.

There are several posts where I talked at lenght about these characters, because Yoneda gave a lot of backstory, and I encourage who may be interested in checking further. Doumeki has trouble facing or recognizing reality, until reality kicks him in the face, and that is happening to him since the nurse and Aoi. So he is only observing when it suits him. Yashiro established his emotional boundaries plenty of times, and Nanahara is there to corroborate and reinforce Yashiro’s prefereces. Here are some examples, and these are from volume one alone. It is a pretty clear situation, and Doumeki understood it.

I know that people are objecting to the very idea of framing Doumeki as the aggressor in this case, but the power dynamics had already shifted at that point when things went down in ch 24-25. It is the result of an escalation that sees Doumeki hiding his feelings and his arousal, and becoming more aggressive and unhinged towards others during the investigation into who ordered the hit on Yashiro. Yoneda was painstakingly building towards that scene, while also painting a bigger picture and external plot, and there are so many details that I haven’t even touched upon yet, but nothing is filler. And the parallels between Doumeki’s arousal and his violent behavior can’t be easily ignored.

Again, I feel quite powerless and unequipped to persuade those who already formed their opinion. But when given arguments in favor of dismissing Yashiro’s right to object or arguments that shift the focus away from the simple topic of consent, then I have to ask myself why this is happening. **Rape culture does play a role, and as I said, rape culture can and does weaponize some romantic ideas about love. Or against the autonomy of the person, against choice and so on.

I find it very important that Yoneda chose to put those words in the mouth of an ex-policeman, while dressed up as a policeman, and of another abusive detective with the police. Or the fact that Inami commented on Doumeki’s father building a career to cover up his crimes. See these statements from the Wikipedia page on rape culture:

With how difficult has become to search on the web for unbiased results, I am just giving the Wikipedia page not as a source of authority, but as a peer reviewed summary that provides a starting point for research and some bibliography on the subject. For example:

I want to add that I don’t agree with the way the article frames “men” as perpetrators and “women” as victims. That should be corrected and can be misleading. Men have been historically and consistently discouraged to speak up about being victims of rape themselves and often the law didn’t even consider them. And the gendered approach contributed to make so many victims invisibile. There is so much we have to learn.

Again, this post is solely for the purpose of answering arguments or points made directly to me about how we interpret the story in Saezuru. These are my observations and reflections, the links I see, and it is possible because these things are in the manga. And last, I love love-stories. But romance - especially romantic tropes, often reinforced by fandom shipping culture - don’t always equal love to me.

[queddadraw]

Old habbits

[saragrosie]

Sketching while streaming s5...

Jonathan Sims I will learn to draw you (this is my doing. I could draw him however I want and I choose to stick with an image of him in my brain that is difficult for me to draw. Masochism.)

Not s5 Mahtins below I enjoyed drawing cuz hes neat:

(Edit: I yassified Martin in the do not separate cuz I wanted his hair fluffier)