#to be fair i was planning on cutting off contact with them as well because of the whole extremely online behavior

[squinch-depraved]

ok. now we need the whole damn gang getting their virginity taken, ted but like he’s a little more experienced (knowledge wise) and understands the female body ⁉️

here you go my lovelies part 5 of the virgin college au (new dividers how do we like them)

so.

ted knocks on your door, only a little bit nervous

and you answer it, immediately rolling your eyes and letting him in just like you did with his friends

"let me fucking guess," you start, already knowing what he's here for

"i can do better than them," he cuts you off

"i've done research, i've talked to my friends that are girls, i know i could make you feel better than they did for my first time."

his refusal to beat around the bush takes you by surprise, and you wince as you look around to see if your roommate heard him

"a-alright, ted. follow me, just... shut up. my roommate hasn't left yet."

he nods, grinning, and trails behind you all the way down the hallway and into your room, setting his stuff down on the floor next to the doorway as you crawl onto your bed

jesus, schlatt wasn't wrong. there are so many stuffed animals, ted thinks to himself as he stands there awkwardly, awaiting your instructions

"he talked about my fucking plushies, didn't he," you chuckle, noticing his expression as he tried to count how many there were

"to be fair, he said it was really cute. and he wasn't wrong," ted replies smoothly, walking to sit on the edge of the mattress

"does he know about charlie?" you ask quietly, unable to look him in the eyes

"the text you sent him. he read it."

"fuck," you sigh, running one hand through your hair

"i hope it doesn't cause problems between you guys. schlatt and i have talked; we're not exclusive. i told him that. he can't be mad."

"i don't think he's mad at you," ted reassures you. "i think he's a little hurt that charlie went to you the first weekend he wasn't here, but he'll probably get over it pretty quickly. he's not the type to hold a grudge like that, especially against one of his best friends and the person who took his virginity."

you ponder his words, shaking your head to clear yourself of the knowledge and focus on the task at hand after a few moments

"what exactly makes you think you could fuck me better?" you ask, reclining onto the pile of stuffed animals and stretching your legs out in front of you

ted stammers for only a second, then swiftly responds with, "for starters, i've heard quite a bit about you from schlatt and charlie. kinda goin' into this with a head start, don't you think?"

"'head start' as in you'll finish first? no thanks," you banter

but ted's quick to quip back

"i don't plan on finishing first. but even if i do, i'll go until i make you cum. i'll use my mouth, fingers, whatever you want. hell, i'll keep going with my cock if that's what you need. probably get super overstimulated but i want to make you feel good. i need to do better than them."

you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right response

"y-you're really competitive, huh?"

he laughs quietly and shakes his head

"i just think someone like you deserves to be treated well. more so than those two can do for you."

"you know, you're really lucky you're attractive? because if you weren't, this whole confident, never-been-touched-before-but-i-know-what-i'm-doing schtick would be incredibly annoying."

ted grins, a goofy smile that warms your heart slightly, and jokes, "it'll get annoying fast. just wait."

with a snort, you motion for him to crawl on top of you, and he does, staring down at you with his gorgeous hazel eyes for a few seconds before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips

"mmmfhhh," you moan against him as he gently bites down onto your bottom lip

ted smirks into the kiss and uses one hand to cup your face as he slides his tongue into your mouth, other hand reaching under your shirt to feel for your chest

once he takes your nipple between his fingers, you gasp and arch your back slightly, desperate for more contact

frustratedly, you withdraw from the kiss, a string of saliva leaving you connected

he watches with a hungry smile as you peel your top off, taking the strings of your sweatpants in one hand and tugging on them gently

"greedy!!" you tease him

but you indulge him, slipping out of the pants and tossing them off the side of the bed

his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you nearly bare in front of him, clad in only a skimpy pair of panties that he so desperately wants to rip off with his teeth

"thought you said you know what you're doing," you snicker, amused by his vacant expression

your joke snaps him out of it, and he pulls his shirt over his head with one arm, reaching behind him to grab the fabric from the nape of his neck and paying no mind as it falls to the floor

"f-fuck," you stutter

he's thrown you off a bit with how smooth the motion is, not to even mention how good he looks just wearing jeans

ted notices your hesitation and grins, spreading your legs open and crawling in between them

"they weren't this forward, were they?"

you let out a shaky breath as he plants a sloppy kiss to your neck

"no," you sigh. "they weren't."

"mm. bet you had to tell them what to do."

"yeah, i did. schlatt was okay, he got the hang of it, but charlie was- agh! fuck!" you hiss when he takes your flesh between his teeth and bites down, sucking a dark mark into it

"ted!!"

"what?" he purrs, pulling away to look at you

usually you were the one that left the bruises

now, whenever you saw schlatt, you'd have even more explaining to do

when he realizes you're unable to come up with anything to say, he smirks down at you and moves to kiss your chest

"you were telling me about charlie?" he asks before taking one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it

"yeah. um, fuck. uhh, he was... he was good," you stammer, rolling your eyes back into your head slightly

"he didn't give a lot of details. i'm guessing he's more of a gentleman than schlatt?"

your face heats up even more at his words uttered against your warm skin

"you could say that." you decide to not say anything else in case charlie was embarrassed

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans as he presses his face between your breasts and brings them to sandwich his head

a laugh escapes you, the melodic sound filling the air and causing ted to raise his head to look at you

"this isn't sexy, is it?"

you giggle again and smooth down a wild tuft of his hair

"not in the usual way, but your awkward eagerness to please is kind of turning me on."

he grins again and sits up, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off

you try not to, but you can't help but stare at his clothed bulge

he looks so sexy in his boxers, a small happy trail now complimenting his chest hair

"what?" he asks, smile faltering for just a moment when you can't do anything but admire him

"n-nothing. i just-"

"doesn't matter," he cuts you off by clambering on top of you again, leaning in to make out with you passionately

a surprised, yet aroused moan slips from your lips, and he uses one hand to tug off your panties in a seamless motion that you swear he has to have practiced before

"so wet for me already, damn."

you can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back and spreads your folds open with two fingers

"gonna taste you now."

"mhm," you answer absent-mindedly, too focused on the way his cock twitches through his boxers

ted stares up at you once he positions himself right in front of your cunt, giving you a look of pure desire

gingerly, he scoots closer and presses a wet kiss to your clit, eyes flicking between your dazed expression and your soaked pussy to make sure he's doing it right

eventually he starts dipping his tongue into your hole, savoring the taste and mirroring you by groaning softly into you

you're whining and moaning and bucking your hips in pure bliss, because, for once, you don't have to teach this fool how to make you feel good

he's incredible; better than schlatt was at first

"ted!! fuck, fuck me, oh my god," you babble, bringing your legs to wrap around his head

"mm, not yet. enjoying how sweet you are on my tongue," he coos into your dripping core

with an agonized wail, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer against your cunt

"this isn't fair," you whine, yet you smile dreamily as you say it

"i think it is. you put up with so many guys that don't know what they're doing, and finally one comes along who did the research to know how to make you feel good, and you just wanna rush things. it's sad."

"research won't mean shit if i get you worked up enough," you chuckle breathlessly

"maybe. we'll have to see," he muses, shoving his face back between your thighs

the unexpectedness of the whole situation makes it surprisingly easy for you to cum

ted picks up on your signals, speeding up when you start arching your back, curling his fingers inside you when you begin to scream his name

a mess is made all over his face, along with your bedsheets, when you release; stars fleck your vision and pulse in time with your heartbeat, which you can hear clear as day in your ears

"see? now i can fuck you," he pants, immense pride obvious in his tone

"shut the fuck up and take those off," you growl, reaching to tug at the hem of his boxers

he laughs and obliges, pumping himself in one hand and absorbing the look of hunger in your eyes

"fuck, ted," you whisper, excited to take his length, but unsure of how much it would hurt

"oh! hold on," he exclaims, rising from the bed and going to dig into his bag by the door

it takes him a second, and you impatiently blow some hair out of your face as you wait, but he returns with a condom

just tears it open with his teeth and slides it on, with relative ease, considering he's never used one before

once he's wrapped, he slides between your legs again, kissing you one more time before pressing his tip to your entrance

"you ready?"

he sounds so loving, so patient

so it's a shock when you mumble a, "yes," and he pushes into you forcefully, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp and wince

"what's wrong??" he asks, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it to his lips to kiss

"nothing. big. hurts a bit. just go," you spit out rapidly

ted grins and proceeds to start pumping in and out of you, head falling forward as he processes the pleasure he's receiving as your walls envelop him

"fuck, baby!" he grunts once he establishes a brutal pace

"this good?"

"you like how i'm fuckin' you?"

unable to speak, you nod and dig your nails into his back, clawing him up and down

"not bad for my first time, right?" he chuckles

"you- fuck! have got the ego of a god," you gasp, locking your legs around him

"good thing i fuck like one, then, hmm?"

you let out a strangled growl, a bit mad that he actually is as good as he said he'd be, and dig your nails deeper into his back

"you're so fucking annoying," you manage to choke out

"hah! see, told you it'd get annoying fast," he laughs

"god, fuck, ted, i don't- i'm gonna cum again- i'm- fuck..." you ramble, squeezing your legs tighter and tighter around him

"you keep- ngh, clenching like that around me and i'm gonna cum too," he groans, more breathless than before

"fuuuck, teddy!!!" you wail, your whole body shuddering for a moment before going limp

ted just grunts and slams into you a bit harder a few more times, burying himself in you and collapsing onto you, chest heaving

"get off me, you loser," you tease in mock disgust, secretly enjoying the scent of his sweat as it drips down onto you

he rolls to the other side of the bed, smiling, and stares up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath

you joke with each other for a few minutes before your phone starts ringing

a glance at the screen reveals it's schlatt calling

ted starts getting dressed as soon as he sees who it is

and good thing too, because as soon as you answer, schlatt's voice rings through the phone, audible to both of you even though he's not on speaker

"i'm on my way over right now. we need to fucking talk."

that's all he says before he hangs up

the terrified expression on your face is enough for ted to toss his bag over his shoulder and rest one hand on your bedroom dorknob

"i should probably leave, huh?"

"yeah."

"...cool. we should do this again, though, right?"

a small smile spreads across your face

"...yeah."

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 4

ch1 ch2 ch3

Kon and Peter: clown to clown communication commences.

New York had some massive craft stores. Peter had to direct Kon to one, which was fair but nerve wracking since he didn't actually know for sure it existed here. 

Luckily it did. 

Kon’s stepdad must have been loaded, or maybe Kon didn’t understand finances the same way that Peter did. He loaded up a cart with everything that Peter pointed out. He got two pairs of sewing scissors, which was a wild decision Peter could barely wrap his mind around. Was Kon planning to cut with both hands at one time, or for buddy crafting sessions? Those things were like fifty dollars a pop!

Some consultation with the staff helped them get metal decorative bits and three different sturdy mesh fabrics, one of which had glitter on it. They were all black. Peter eyed Kon for that, kinda impressed by the commitment to an aesthetic. Kon was like a little kid in the store, rolling down aisles on the back of the cart and tossing everything in without even checking prices. Peter found himself caught up in the euphoria and talking waaaay too much shit about projects he wanted to do, despite knowing he definitely couldn’t afford it. He really shouldn’t have. But Kon actually seemed interested when Peter talked about his design for a spidersuit- in a subtle way! And Kon just wheeled back to the big section and started trying to talk him around on the merits of red and blue tinted leather instead of athletic fabric.

It was funny, so he went along with it. And then Kon tipped the entire rolls into the cart and went in search of thread to match.

Peter stared at the back of his head for a long moment processing. Was he for real?

“Hey, I didn’t mean today,” Peter said, scrubbing a hand through his hair and trying to sound casual. “I don’t have any cash with me. I mean, I’ve got some, but not like that much-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kon interrupted. His voice was a little weird. Almost short. Like he really didn’t want to talk about money. “I have that covered. Luther pays for whatever I want as long as I keep in contact.”

“...Okay, thank you,” Peter said, because that seemed like a great minefield to stay out of. He mentally reclassified Luther to an estranged and possibly financially abusive Dad, not a Stepdad. “Hey, if we’re sewing leather, I don’t think we can do that by hand. You want to look at the machines?”

Two industrial sewing machines and a serger later, Peter desperately and unsucessfully tried to talk Kon down from buying his very own bedazzler. He slouched behind Kon in the checkout line, wondering if this was just the kind of mistake a man had to make for himself. No way was he actually going to get enough use to make it worthwhile, right? Right?

The total made Peter feel kind of green. Kon paid for it all with a swipe and not so much as a blink. Then he bundled up all the bags and hefted them with no apparent effort. 

“Hey, let me help,” Peter protested, strategically snagging a couple. They had two sewing machines for jiminy cricket’s sake, that had to be heavy for a normal guy. 

A moment too late, he realized that Kon was a big strong guy who lifted a lot of weights. He’d probably deliberately taken the heavy bags because he had good reason to think he was stronger than Peter. Aw, fiddlesticks. Should he pretend this was heavy? Had he just given too much away? Kon seemed like a nice guy but Peter really didn’t know-

Kon just let the bags go with a bemused smile and a, “Thanks, dude.” He appeared to have not a single thought about the situation as he started walking to the door. 

Good. He didn’t know that these were like, heavy. It must be nice to be a big strong guy.

Ah, well. Peter trotted after him.

His day had gone off the rails. The library was open now for sure. He had planned to be there by now, refreshing his website design skills. Maybe he’d gotten an email back about a possible job. He really should check-

But it was only one day at the absolute most, Peter justified to himself. And it was really really nice to feel normal again and do something impulsive but harmless with another teenager.

They wound up in an unsettlingly clean, empty apartment. Kon carelessly threw their loot on a pure white rug and walked in without kicking his shoes off. He pulled off his leather jacket and threw it at the couch without looking in a show of coordination that Peter could respect.

Peter shucked his tennis shoes carefully and lined them up against the wall before he ventured in. Kon was already opening up the fridge and pulling out cans. He threw one to Peter. 

Peter caught it without a thought and then blinked at it. Carbonated juice? Weird, but probably good. He said, “Thanks, man,” as he cracked it open. He took a sip and made a face. It was good, but very weird. He looked at it again and noticed that it was also somehow a yogurt drink. Fruit carbonated yogurt was a concept that he had not encountered before. 

‘Don’t be a dork. It’s probably a rich person thing.’

Kon perked up like a dog hearing a car approach. “I have to-” He gave Peter a distracted smile. “I’ll be right back. I have to do something. Could you uh, entertain yourself? Maybe set up our stuff?” He was already edging to the door.

Peter shrugged, confused at the sudden turnaround but amiable. “Okay, I’ll wait,” he agreed easily. 

Kon was gone so fast that Peter almost thought there was something supernatural about it. He shut the door, bemused.

And he did what he said. He cut off tags and threw away packaging. He plugged in the machines and set them up, one on the desk and one on the table. He mused that the apartment was furnished like a fancy hotel room. He sat down on the sofa to wait. 

It took a while. He couldn’t track the time without turning on the evil janitor phone, but Peter was pretty sure that at least like, ten minutes passed. He shifted uncomfortably. Was this weird? 

Kon was awfully casual about leaving someone he’d just met in his space. Peter didn’t mind, exactly. He knew that Kon wasn’t dangerous to him because his spider sense hadn’t gone off at all. But Kon didn’t know that! Didn’t he, like, know about stranger danger? Objectively, Peter could be a pretty dangerous person. Not by temperament, but still…

He sat there for a while and worried about Kon’s self preservation skills. After that, he ended up just getting started on his spidersuit.

Frankly, the leather idea was… Well. He had to rethink some of his concepts, that was for sure. It was easy to make a spandex suit. The hardest part of that was dealing with the endless teasing from Mr. Stark. But leather didn’t have the same stretchiness to it. So he sketched out a few ideas, tossing out numbers and proportions and trying to figure out how much he needed around each joint to accommodate his spidery range of motion. 

And then he remembered that he uh, was doing this with another person present. 

The jumpsuit thing? It made sense when he was wearing Stark tech. There was a big benefit to having no seams. But there was a reason that his first ever suit had actually been in two pieces: that was how normal people dressed. 

‘I can’t exactly tell Kon that I’m a misplaced superhero.’ Peter choked down a laugh and borrowed the leather jacket off of the couch. It would work as a pattern.

He traced the main pieces onto the scrap material they’d gotten. It was a real pain in the ass to do without cutting the clothes apart, but he had a pretty good understanding of how a 3 dimensional object was made from a bent 2 dimensional object and figured out something that he was mostly confident was accurate enough.

Peter put his hands on his hips and looked at his tracing victoriously. Then he frowned. He looked at the jacket again.

Aww, man. He sadly started drawing another line, a couple inches inside the first one.

Kon was big, okay? Kon was a big strong jacked guy! Peter was pretty jacked for his size, too, shoulders way bigger than his waist. But he was uh, just built smaller. The shape would work for Peter, but the size was going to be way off if he just replicated the pattern. He bit his lip as he worked.

“What are you doing?”

Peter jumped four feet straight up in the air and flipped onto the couch. He landed in a spidery crouch on the balls of his feet with both hands splayed down for balance. 

He stared at Kon with wide eyes. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh fuck.

Kon laughed. “Sorry, did I startle you?” He draped himself over the couch backwards, head pointing towards the floor and knees over the backrest. The smell of smoke wafted over.

…smoke? What had he been doing?

“Yeah, sorry,” Peter said slowly. 

‘Did he- he didn’t notice that wasn’t normal? Or maybe that’s something normal humans can do here. I mean, Kon can fly!’

Holy shit, he was in the clear.

“I was going to cut myself a jacket pattern,” Peter explained. He got back off his crouch on the sofa cushion. He tried to be as normal as possible about it. Wow, he was killing this. “I used yours to make a pattern, hope that’s okay. I didn’t mark it up or anything.”

“It’s cool,” Kon assured. He tilted his jaw upwards so that he was watching Peter upside down. “Sorry about how long I was gone. I got caught up helping my neighbor’s cat.”

“...With a fire?” Peter asked before he’d thought about it.

Kon frowned at him. 

“I mean, you smell a little smoky,” Peter demurred. 

The other guy laughed nervously. “Yeah, my neighbor is a bad cook.”

Peter nodded and accepted that. He knew all about bad cooks. “Do you cook?” he wondered. “I’m not great, honestly, but I can do a few things.”

Kon perked up again- and wow, this guy was like the world’s largest, most handsome golden retriever sometimes. “Cooking? I ordered everything in- can you show me?” His eyes sparkled like he had never before considered that he could cook for himself. 

Wow. Peter smiled, but he silently judged Kon’s parents. Why didn’t he have any practical life skills? “Yeah, of course. What do you have for groceries? Your parents won’t mind if we cook?” He started cutting out his pattern pieces in the test fabric. He had 5 main ones- two sleeves, a back panel, and two front pieces. Shit, he’d need to get a zipper, wouldn’t he?

Kon snorted and let his head fall back and hit the bottom of the sofa. “I live alone,” he said. “No one is going to even notice.”

“...How old are you?” Peter asked.

“Two,” Kon lied blithely. 

Peter made an aahhhh of comprehension. Fair enough. “I would have guessed like, 17,” he said.

“Is that how old you are?” 

“...Yes,” Peter lied, remembering that’s what his ID said now. He finished cutting out the back panel and put it aside.

Kon flipped himself up and back onto his feet. “Cool. I’m like, 16,” he said. “Basically.”

…That was a weird thing to say, but Peter noted it. Maybe he meant he was 15 going on 16. That would actually make them the same age.

“Are you from here?” Peter decided to move the conversation into more neutral territory. “I am, I’m from Queens.”

“Baller,” Kon said. “Nah, I’m from Hawaii. I recently moved to the mainland. I still have a place back there, but I have some things to do over here and they’re always kinda last minute, you know?” He scrunched up his face. “Flying over everytime someone has an errand gets kinda tedious.”

“That’s true,” Peter agreed. 

Kon seemed to brighten. “Plus, my friends are here.”

“That makes a big difference.” Peter smiled at him, genuinely happy for the dude. Maybe he had a shit time at his high school in Hawaii. Maybe he got bullied for being too big and handsome and friendly. “Hey, did you think about how you want to add the mesh to your jacket? It is this jacket you wanna alter, right?”

“I want to replace the back panel,” Kon said instantly. “Like, the seams and structure are the leather, and then the back is see through. Wouldn’t that look so fucking cool?”

“It would look cool,” Peter had to admit. It was the kind of look he wouldn’t go for, personally, but he might if he had traps like Kon. Still, he had to check. “You don’t use this for protection, right?”

Kon stared at him blankly.

“Like, for riding a motorcycle or something?” Peter prodded. Wow, he felt awkward. This was dumb. Kon wasn’t actually a 2 year old with no life experience. He should have kept his mouth shut.

“No, but why would that matter?” Kon asked slowly.

Peter felt his shoulders ride up, like he could turtle away from the conversation “Uhhh, well the mesh isn’t going to be as strong as the leather. Obviously. So if you fell, you might get more scratched up. That’s all.” 

God, why did he talk? Why did he ever talk?

“Ohh,” Kon said. Then he huffed out a laugh. “Nah, that’s not an issue for me. I’m tougher than that. Also, I don’t ride a bike.”

“You don’t do anything dangerous, then,” Peter confirmed with some relief. “Cool. So, I was thinking that we should leave a bit of the leather to attach the mesh to. Gimme? Thanks.” He took the jacket. He barely noticed that Kon was giving him a really weird look. “So, if it was my project, I would cut out a rectangle…. Well, it curves by the neck, but still. I would cut out the leather, leaving like an inch beside each seam. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” Kon took the jacket back and picked up one of the sets of scissors. He played with the scissors for a moment, opening and closing them at high speed. “Vroom vroom, let’s go.” He flung himself onto the floor, back pressed to the sofa, and started cutting.

…Peter took a moment to hope that he hadn’t given advice that would ruin Kon’s jacket. He went back to his project until Kon said, “I’m done. What’s next?”

“Which mesh do you want?” Peter asked. Then he sucked in a break. “Ah, fuck.” 

“What?” Kon was standing so fast that Peter didn’t actually see him move. He looked tense and ready for action.

Peter didn’t notice. He was pressing his thumb and forefinger on either side of his nose and wondering why he was such a dummy all the time. “We need to wash the fabric first,” he said apologetically. “Obviously not the leather. But the mesh needs to be washed. Where’s your washer?”

He gathered up the fabric and followed Kon’s instructions. Kon trailed behind, obviously curious. “Why do we need to wash it?” he asked.

“Uh, it’s never been washed before, right?” Peter explained. He shoved the fabric inside and started looking for detergent. “Usually fabric shrinks when you wash it for the first time. So if you cut it first, sew it in place, and then eventually wash it, it’ll shrink and like, warp, and ruin your stuff.” He grimaced at the memory. Kon had bought the supplies like the cost was nothing, but Peter remembered vividly the crushing disappointment and pain of accidentally ruining something he’d made. Fabric wasn’t expensive, but it was expensive when you didn’t have money.

‘I just lucked into this,’ Peter thought, and felt guilty. ‘I’m going to be able to have a spidersuit just because I happened to meet Kon and he was nice enough to spend money on me. Am I taking advantage of him?’

He put the detergent into the load and started the washer. Man… He needed to make sure he was a really good friend to Kon. Because that’s what this actually was, wasn’t it? Kon had immediately started hanging out with him and bought him things because he was lonely. He was trying to get a friend. It was kinda like Mr. Stark, except less pathetic, because Kon wasn’t a super rich superhero with awesome super friends who could just tell them he needed help. Kon was a teenager who lived on his own and had an estranged Dad and maybe like, no one else in his life. Did he even go to school? Was whatever was going on with him even legal?

“...Do you want to get started on lunch?” Peter suggested. He was hungry, but that wasn’t why he asked. They had time to kill and he wasn’t going to make Kon watch him work on the spidersuit. 

“Yeah! What do you want to make?” Kon followed him back to the kitchen and watched with a sort of pleasant curiosity as Peter checked the fridge and cupboards. Literally the only things sitting out on his countertop were a bottle of dish soap and a sponge. That was it.

The fridge had canned drinks and take out leftovers in it. The cupboards had two cups, one of which was storage for a fork, spoon, knife, and pair of chopsticks. 

Peter gave Kon a strained smile and bent to check the lower cupboards.

They were empty and eerily clean. There weren’t even any cleaners in there, so that was wild. “Kon,” he started, and then didn’t know where to go with it. “Do you own a pot or pan?”

“No, why?” Kon cocked his head at him. He honestly seemed just curious and not a bit embarrassed. “Should I?”

“...We need one to cook in,” Peter said. And a few other things. Did– did Kon not own any plates, either? 

‘I guess he wouldn’t need one if he gets take out and uses the containers all the time,’ Peter rationalized. ‘But who lives like that? Why didn’t someone teach him how to live like a person?’

And who was cleaning this place? It hadn’t seemed so weird when he entered. But now that he knew Kon lived alone, this was just bizarre. If Kon wasn’t living with a neatfreak parent and he didn’t own anything but dish soap, how was his apartment so clean? Did he have a maid service or something?

Kon was way weirder than Mr. Stark. Peter gave his new friend a queasy smile when he realized that. Man, this guy needed help. “So, if we don’t wanna do takeout, we need to go shopping,” Peter said. That was an understatement. “A pan, a couple of plates, and groceries.”

Kon pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and waved it around. “That’s fine. Lexy has it covered.”

‘Lexy? Not Luther? Is Lexy his stepmom or something? Or is that a nickname?’

Normally, Peter would feel bad about spending someone else’s money. But this time he felt a kind of vicious satisfaction in the idea of running up this dude’s credit cards. Wherever Kon’s Dad was, he was a dick and he owed his kid some vegetables and a frying pan. “Yeah, okay. Do you have reusable bags we should grab on our way out?”

“I don’t think so. What are those?” Kon asked.

“...We’ll buy some,” Peter decided. “They’re usually made of canvas or something. It’s so that you don’t have to buy the one use plastic bags all the time. Let’s go.”

“Cool.”

Kon in the group chat: guys I have made a CIVILIAN FRIEND. 

Bart: neato im happy for u!

Cassie: big if true

Tim: What’s his ssn i just wanna check something

Kon: I don’t think he knows I'm a superhero. It’s nice, but is that weird?

Cassie: probably because you’re not famous enough yet sorry

Tim: get gud

Bart: get good

Kon: fuck u guys. I’m undercover. I’m being so normal.

[voltronisanobsession]

Being Keith’s Older Sibling

The urges were too strong to not write this💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

Sorry if there’s some typos, my eyes are in a LOT of pain rn

Being Keith’s older sibling is definitely a hard feat in itself

After the death of your guys’ dad, things kinda went downhill for both of y’all

Your general mistrust and attitude towards people brushed off on little Keith, which comes to play later in his life as we’ve seen he was a more troubled kid

So while you tried your best to be a good role model for Keith growing up, it was hard to do so when all he ever saw from you was your aggression towards adults who tried separating you both

Eventually, social services do separate you guys, claiming that it would be best to allow Keith to grow without your negative influences but the damage had been done

Keith would grow up to not trust many people in his life because of your separation, always finding ways to sneak off and see you at the school they sent you to

It was times like those where you would promise to take him away from this place, from Earth, and live a life where you won't lose each other again

Because of this, Keith also developed a habit of lying to his guardians about his whereabouts because of your own attachment to him, encouraging him to continue this behavior 😭😭😭

Man none of yall knew better😭💔💔

But as you grew older, you, unfortunately, were sent away to the city to continue your studies there, cutting all contact with your little brother

Keith would then take an interest in flying and would go on to attend the Garrison to learn to become a pilot while you made plans every day to once again be reunited with him

I feel like it would take some time to leave the city and go back to your hometown because of the lack of resources available to you

So by the time you reach the Garrison after finding out he's been attending the school, it would be around the time he flunked out and disappeared

Fate is not fair to yall (crying)

So you get a job at the garrison while trying to find Keith and some time passes (YAY TIME SKIP)

After following Lance and Hunk while also finding Pidge on the rooftops, readying to reprimand and write them up, you all see the space shuttle crash and explosions go off, shooting off immediately to investigate

All while you're yelling at them to get back to the building cuz you don't want to lose the only job you have that's near where you think Keith is lurking💀

After seeing it was Keith who caused the explosions, he doesn't recognize you until you all get to the cabin

It's kinda emotional on your end cuz bro

This is your little brother... He's all grown up now, but in a way, he still looks the same. He's so much taller now, his hair is longer, and he would look at you with a familiar distrust you recognized

It was the same look he would give others when you guys were younger

The worst part is that he doesn't even recognize you because its been YEARS since he's last seen you

So it's a bit of a shock for him when you reveal that hey! I'm your sibling! And I've been trying so hard to get back to you for YEARS!

Very emotional as you both hug it out

Like really hug it out, tears and everything

"I thought I would never see you again."

"I never stopped looking for you Keith."

URGH MY HEART💔💔💔💔

After that everything is HISTORY

The dynamic between you both is kind of a weird thing tbh

While you're still holding onto the past and the younger version of Keith you remember, Keith has since let go of what the past held, ready to start a new future with his older sibling in his life

Because you're still holding onto this past, you treat him as if he's still a child and appear somewhat coddling in a way

You're just so excited and happy to be reunited with Keith again that you forget he's since then grown up. He's learned to be independent from years spent alone

And while Keith does miss you as well, he isn't used to having this new 'guardian figure' in his life, only used to the freedom and advice given to him from others, especially Shiro

Speaking of Shiro, I think you would go to him for advice on the blockage between you both since he basically raised Keith after you had left.

He knows Keith better, as much as it hurts you to admit it

Shiro would definitely tell you to give Keith space, to give him time to adjust to the new changes in his life. He's still a teen and is still learning to deal with his emotions, so just give him space to fully digest the situation at hand

You take this advice to heart and tread carefully, which Keith appreciates A LOT

Like imagine you grow up with unrestricted freedom, being able to do whatever you want and just learning to take care of yourself, and then one day, an authoritative figure appears in your life and begins setting up these restrictions. Telling you to be careful, making small rules that break your routine entirely

That's what Keith felt when you began making your presence more known in his life since you believed that you had to keep protecting him from the world

But he's grown up

He shows you that he doesn't need you protecting him anymore

It's bittersweet for you to see him not need you and makes you sad that you missed out on basically his childhood

BUT HE'S SO SWEET IN LETTING YOU KNOW THAT YOU'LL BE THERE FOR HIM NOW AND HIS FUTURE ACCOMPLISHMENTS

AND THAT HE'LL BE THERE FOR YOURS TOO😭😭😭

There's just TOO MUCH I can say about being Keith's older sibling, like it's such a complex relationship I would love to develop more on!!!!

This is literally just the tip of the iceberg but imma cut it short for now

To keep it sweet, both of you know that now you're together again, nothing is ever separating yall again

Space wars and all, you guys know you're stronger together and your bond just grows into a beautiful relationship as time goes on😭😭

[anashins]

Hey babes may I request some rough make up smut with husband Doyoung after a heated argument? Perhaps a bit power play and breeding kink? 👀

-✨ℒ

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: drama, fluff, smut

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You and your husband have always wanted children - until he starts doubting himself and you have to show him that he has no reason to at all.

A/N: I think this is my first time writing something with such a specific kink? I hope you like it, L 🥺💗

“We’ve been married for almost two years already, Doyoung. And never have I heard you speak about doubting getting a baby.”

“Aren’t I allowed to voice out my opinion?” he asked coldly, and at that moment, you completely lost it. 

With a bang, you slammed the entrance door to your apartment shut, totally furious. “When we started dating, we talked about this, because that’s what couples do before they vow to commit to each other for a lifetime.”

He hurried into the living room, throwing his jacket into the corner. “Opinions can change, okay?”

“But not in front of our friends during a casual gathering! You can’t just throw me under the bus and flat out tell them you’re unsure about starting a family when I was so excited about it before!” you called out in frustration, stopping him by holding him back by his arm. “No, don’t run away now, this is something serious we have to talk about!”

Giving it all to avoid eye contact with you, Doyoung reluctantly let himself get stopped by you, but you noticed how uncomfortable he had gotten after spinning around. There was much more to your husband’s sudden change of opinion, you just questioned yourself what exactly that could have caused. 

“I’m sorry that I made everyone uncomfortable and forced us to go.” His once maddened features had flattened out, his gaze soft and apologetic now. “I just felt under so much pressure when they asked when we plan on having a baby after seeing them with their children. In fact, lately, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

You bit into your bottom lip, feeling your heartbeat close to your throat now. You were so, so afraid of the answer to this question that could decide over your entire future together. “And to what conclusion did you come?” You swallowed, hard, a cold shudder running down your spine at the same breath. “Don’t you want a family with me anymore?”

“You deserve the family you’ve always wished for.” You finally locked your eyes and saw all the pain and regret in Doyoung’s eyes. “But what if our children will get all of my bad traits? What if I don’t know how to be a good father? What if I will never be able to give them the life they deserve? What if I can never compare to our friends? That’s what I meant.”

You were totally taken aback. “This is what your doubts are about?”

Your husband let out a long sigh and wanted to turn away in annoyance over how you downplayed all his worries, that was how well you knew him. You cut off his way though, got on tip toes and cupped his face.

“Listen to me,” you spoke slowly with a smile on your face. “All your bad personality traits mean nothing as long as you’re a good person. And you are a good person, Doyoung, so every single one of your future children will be too. Nobody is born a parent, and of course we’ll make mistakes along the way, but as long as we’ll raise our children fair and good, and provide them with the best life and with all the unconditional love we can offer, we will be good parents.”

You wished you were able to capture what happened next. The change in Doyoung’s eyes from worry, to doubt, then thinking and finally insight. Then, nothing but love.

“I don’t deserve you,” he finally said, tilting his head and nudging against your warm palm.

“You do.” You let your hand trail down his arm, reaching for his fingers. “Now prove to me how much you deserve me.”

____

“Not like this,” you whispered into Doyoung’s ear and pushed him away from you. 

“I wasn’t done yet!”

“You’ve finished already, now it’s my turn.”

He landed on his back, totally naked and with wonder written all over his face, but when you pulled up your skirt and climbed onto his lap, that quickly turned into desire when it dawned on him what you were about to be doing. 

“You need a pause before round two?” you mocked jokingly. “A glass of water?”

Your husband let out a laugh and pressed his palms into your sides. “I only need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, one moment.”

You leaned to the side and reached for the nightstand to pull another condom out of the box which would later lie next to the used one from only moments before. 

But Doyoung stopped you. “How about we chance it?”

“What?” You looked at him, totally confused.

He smiled and brushed with his fingers over your cheek in an encouraging gesture. “We’ll take our chance.”

“For a baby?”

“For a baby.”

Overwhelming love flooded through your body, and you bent down to him, kissing him passionately while simultaneously raising your hips. Doyoung moaned into your mouth when he nearly effortlessly slipped into you, and you flattened your palms against his chest, starting to move up and down along his length.

Your husband's fingers entangled in your hair, and the way he subconsciously tugged at the strands encouraged you to move even faster. You threw your head back, red marks showing on his skin where the tips of your fingers had grazed.

“Yes, just like this,” Doyoung murmured. “Good idea of you to go on top.”

“Shut up and enjoy,” you chuckled, bending down and kissing him. 

You alternated your motions between lifting and slamming down, going forward and back, and sometimes even drawing circles which your husband liked especially much as he let out noises you had only heard on very few occasions before.

Your breasts were bouncing in front of him, and he loved kneading them, giving you double the stimulation. It was especially intense tonight as you had done it without protection only once or twice in your entire relationship, and those times had only been the products of accidents.

Now, you felt him deep inside you without any barrier, all on purpose, and it felt better than ever before. Whether it was real or only all in your imagination because you were finally trying for a baby, you didn’t know. But in the end, it also didn’t matter.

You came so fast like never before with the rhythmic movements of your hips that caused sweat to collect all in your cleavage and forehead, and lured a scream out of you of which you were sure could disrupt all your neighbors’ sleep.

You collapsed on Doyoung’s chest, your own heaving up and down before he clawed your bum so hard, it nearly made you scream out in pain. But you endured it all when you noticed how stiff his body had become, an indicator for the fact that he was close to cumming himself.

“A-are you s-sure?” he still managed to ask before it was too late, stroking the back of your head. “I can still pull… out.”

“I want it,” you breathed. “I want your baby, please.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he shot his seed all inside of you with a few pumps, and you laid still in his arms, with a content smile on your face.

Shortly later, when you two were cuddling, you were talking about who the child would come after. 

“You know what?” Doyoung declared after a while, hugging you close to him so that you felt his heartbeat close to your ear. “The majority of the time, it doesn’t work out at the first go.”

“I know.”

“That means we have to try often.” You heard his voice changing to a sinister tone, and when the tips of his fingers slowly crawled across your skin, you knew what he was up to. “We shouldn’t lose any time.”

[nyxwanderland]

♡ kiss your scars

pairing → dazai osamu x reader genre → angst warnings → self harm, mentions of suicide word count → 937

it wasn't unusual when dazai would come knocking on your door in the middle of night. this time, however, was much more serious than before.

you slightly gasped as your eyes widened in horror at the awful sight of him. "osamu...?" your voice came out shakily, trying to process the wounds through the ripped shirt and sleeves. blood trickled down and seeped through his clothes, and his drenched body was trembling in the pouring weather outside.

you did not hesitate and immediately let him in, settling him on your couch and leaving him there to go to the kitchen as quickly as possible while distressing thoughts ran through your head. you returned to him with a first-aid kit in your hands. you always had it as a backup plan in case dazai was injured again.

dazai remained quiet as you took his shirt off, but only lightly shivered upon his wet torso coming into contact with the air in the lounge. his head just hung low, his wavy brown hair covering his eyes, as if he were too ashamed to look you in the eye.

you were shocked to see a gruesome slash on his chest that cut through the bandages wrapped around him at all times. the stabs weren't left unnoticed on his arm either. slowly removing his gauzes and discarding them in a metallic tray on the coffee table, you began treating his wounds.

it definitely wasn't the first time you saw him without bandages on, but it wasn't an every-day view. it touched you at the thought of how dazai trusted and felt safe with you with his body exposed, revealing his scars that no longer physically hurt but did emotionally.

you did know that he was out on a late-night mission, so it was fair to assume that he was ambushed on the way back or in the process. you wanted to ask him, but you chose to remain silent for now. neither did he.

as you were dressing his wounds, a few scars caught your attention that you had never seen before. one at his shoulder blade, near his collarbone on the neck, and a few on his abdomen. it seemed like they were inflicted a few days ago, judging from the whiteness that indicated that they had healed. he never told me about these... you thought while tidying up the materials that you used and gathering the unnecessary contents to throw in the trash.

your fingertips gently traced the marks on which you were eyeing as you muttered, "who... who did this to you?" your eyes shifted to the newly treated gash on his chest and you placed your hand on it carefully, making sure not to hurt him any longer.

you received no answer, so you repeated, "who did this to you, osamu?" your voice quivered. "were you hurt during your mission? and these... new scars?"

dazai took a deep breath. "i did." he did not bother to lift his head because he refused to look into your eyes filled with sorrow. "all of it."

"i... i see," you just murmured, ignoring the lump in your throat. you tried to bring your blurry vision back to normal, but tears welling in your eyes made it difficult. you did not want to cry in front of him—you wanted to be strong and be an emotional support for him.

you went into your room to bring his shirt (that he usually leaves in your wardrobe after crashing at your place) for him to wear. "do you want to eat anything? i have some dinner for y-"

"i'll just sleep," dazai interrupted, and you nodded. you extended your hand for him to hold, and he accepted. you guided him to your room, not letting go of his hand.

he laid down on your bed, and you covered him with blankets. you were leaving to give him some space, but you stopped in your tracks when dazai spoke, "i want you to hold me..."

✩

he was now fast asleep, his head on your chest, and your fingers were caressing his soft, wavy hair, occasionally scratching his scalp in the process. you couldn't help but kiss his forehead from time to time, fully knowing he loved it.

without realising it at first, you finally broke into tears, but you continued to nestle his hair as you tried your best to control your sobs. why... why does he have to go through this?

you hated how dazai discarded his needs for the sake of others so recklessly, how he just shut himself out randomly... how he just wanted to die at times.

he was your world, so you wanted to protect him. and there were times when he'd feel so much better. he would let his cheerful mask down and start opening up more. he himself would state that he never wanted to leave you behind so he stopped killing himself altogether, just for you. because of you and your support.

that did not mean at all that he would stop inflicting pain on himself from time to time. but it was never this bad, and you were now afraid it might go overboard.

you always wanted to kiss his scars and tell him they were beautiful, but deep down, you knew that dazai wasn't ready for this. you decided to give him some time.

but the vivid images of your beloved's scars were always going to haunt you. no matter what and when. in spite of all this, you stayed. just so that he can feel better. and you were never going to give up.

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Week 6 Set A (18/12/23-24/12/23)

Model used is Tsonghan Wu

1. 

Man push ups this week were rough in terms of actually being consistent with them. Too many fucking distractions and bad days and just overall misscheduling. It's not too bad tho because on the 1 day it turned out perfect i managed to crank out 50. And even writing that is such a fucking thrill. We got halfway to the goal in 1 month. Its so euphoric.

2.

I am just gonna have to start competing against myself aren’t I? I guess its just a bad time of year for it. Everyones tired and tuckered out and in fairness so am I. New year means a mental refresh and reset, so i’ll be more structured in this one in january. Which sounds like the kind of New years res bs you normally hear. But i’m serious (famous last words)

3.

Nothing to throw out this week but I did FINALLY get that rawgear drop. Its actually very nice and is a good set of replacements for what I’m planning to discontinue as well as some new styles that i wanna try out, like this sleeveless hoodie.

4.

 Fewer opportunities to do this one but the times that I did were super fun. I tried to give brah Jockrs a lesson on it and he got some of it down, but only a few aspects at a time. Truly he just ended up breaking down giggling at the way Americans say Cock lol.

5.

Baki was also a bit shaky this week ngl. i just had several days where the cut was taking its toll and my energy levels were stuck. And then some of the days i had some other more pressing matters to deal with which will be elaborated in Set C

6.

Big gains on this one. New Gym contact acquired

There’s this dude i’ve seen around occasionally since I started. He’s not a super regular but he looks amazing. Shredded, lean, cut. Calisthenics type build. Gorgeous blond bro with a beard,  almost stereotypically good looking. I’ve seen him sorta training other folks. He’s always had this super cocky aura whenever I saw him. Would always be smirking and chatting up a bunch of girls he randomly seemed to know. And when I was more insecure it did also feel like he was showing off and being a bit of a douche on purpose around my former fatass self. Which is kinda hot. But it didn't make me feel good.

Well on a really nice heavy pull day i was sitting waiting for a machine to free up and HE came up to ME and started chatting. He told me that I was looking so much better than I was a year ago. We talked a bit and he said he wants to be a PT but is kinda just doing it unofficially. Got his name, Liam. Very golden retriever.

The shitty thing is; despite looking almost 25 i’d say, the fucker is only 17. That was a little heartbreaking. Obviously we’re training for different goals and different ideals and there’s no real competition between us. But come on, that's catfishing at that point lol.

An additional point. Which sounds a little woo woo This was the day that I received some new pheromone cologne. So I like to think that had a little effect in making me more approachable.

[noona-clock]

Are You Sure? - Part 2

Genre: Exes to Lovers, Fluff, AU

Pairing: Jungshin x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Epilogue | Words: 2,106

You were so close to the finish line, you could almost taste it.

And, of course, by 'the finish line,' you meant 'the car picking you up at the airport to take you to your hotel.'

You'd gone the whole three-hour flight without seeing or bumping into Jungshin, just as you'd hoped.

(Not quite as you'd hoped, though, because you hadn't want to think about him, either. And you'd done more than a fair bit of that. But, oh well. There was nothing you could do about it now!)

You'd stayed in your seat the whole time, sipping your coffee as slowly as possible so you wouldn't have to get up to use the bathroom. You'd politely lied to your row-mates once the plane landed, telling them you had a connecting flight you had to catch, so could you possibly get out of your seat first? You'd efficiently retrieved your carry-on and filed out of the plane. And once you'd entered the airport, you'd made a beeline to the nearest restroom.

Now, as you were washing your hands and feeling your phone buzz in your pocket as the rideshare notifications came through, you couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. The Universe had thrown a huge wrench in your plans, but you'd pretty much successfully dodged the wrench! Your awkward reunion with Jungshin would proceed as expected -- at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night in a room full of people you could hide behind, figuratively and physically.

"Take that, Universe," you murmured to yourself, drying your hands with a paper towel. A smug smirk tugged at your lips while you tossed the paper into the trash bin and grabbed the handle of your suitcase.

Honestly, you should've known that being smug about foiling the Universe would only incur its wrath.

You hadn't even taken five steps out of the bathroom before you almost ran into someone, and immediately after a startled gasp slid out of your mouth, your gaze landed on just who that someone was.

Of course.

"Oh, sor -- Y/N."

Unfortunately, your heart skipped a beat when you heard your name spoken by that voice.

His voice.

"...Hi," you responded bluntly yet also very, very awkwardly. You made eye contact for a brief moment, but couldn't make yourself maintain it. At least not at the moment.

"I thought I saw you getting off the plane," Jungshin said, his tone tinged with congeniality. "I don't know why I didn't immediately assume it was you. I knew you'd be coming here for the wedding, I just thought --"

He cut himself off; you simply replied with a close-lipped and tense smile.

How could he be so... normal? Yes, he had always been and always would be a very amiable and outgoing person, but right now? Seeing his ex for the first time since the break-up?

"...How are you?" he asked after searching your face for a few seconds. You still weren't looking at him directly, but you could feel it. Somehow, you could just tell.

"I'm fine," you answered. "My ride is almost here, though, so I have to --"

"Oh!" Jungshin interrupted, quickly checking his watch. "I was just about to call for one, but do you mind if I ride with you? I'll send you half the fare, or I can pay for a ride back here if you want to share again after the wedding?"

Oh my god, please, no. Surely, this was all a dream, right? Or a joke. A very elaborate prank for some television show.

Right?

Jungshin, your ex-boyfriend, wanted to share a car with you on the way to your best friends' wedding after the two of you hadn't spoken or seen each other in months?

But you could feel your phone buzzing over and over in your pocket, so you knew your ride was either here or very, very nearby. You didn't have time to lament over the situation, so you just said, "Okay, sure."

"Great," Jungshin grinned.

You almost let out a string of curses because his grin made your heart skip a beat.

Ugh! You were not supposed to react that way to him anymore!

Instead of cursing or letting on that his grin had affected you, you simply bit the inside of your cheek and began walking to the airport exit to catch your ride. Hopefully, your driver wasn't too mad for having to wait for you!

You immediately decided to walk as quickly as you could to the airport entrance in hopes that it would eliminate any sort of conversation -- but not even two seconds after you began walking, you remembered just how long Jungshin's legs were. He was quite a bit taller than you, and even though you were known among your friends and family for being a pretty fast walker, he had never had any trouble keeping up with you. That, unsurprisingly, had not changed.

What was surprising, though, was that he did not attempt to talk to you while you booked it to the rideshare area.

You know those relationships, romantic or otherwise, where one person is The Yapper and one person is The Listener? The two of you had most decidedly had one of those, and Jungshin had unquestionably been The Yapper.

You could probably go a whole day without speaking a single word to another person (it goes without saying that you did talk to yourself quite a bit, like every normal person. Right?), but Jungshin would probably combust before being able to do that.

Obviously, when the two of you had been together, you hadn't minded his almost constant chit-chat. In fact, you'd adored it. Listening to his stories and musings and theories and questions during movies had been comforting to you. You could've -- and did -- listen to him practically all day with a goofy smile on your lips and hearts in your eyes.

So, the fact he wasn't yapping away now as the two of you raced toward the front of the airport was not only strange... it was kind of disappointing.

The second you realized you were disappointed, you forced that feeling out of your head and heart. At least, you tried to. You were a bit busy dodging other airport-goers and trying to keep your luggage under control, so if you spent too much energy on squashing your disappointment, you would certainly trip or run into someone or drop your suitcase. And there was no way you were going to do any of those things in front of Jungshin.

No, right now, you would just keep your eye on the prize and get to the car as quickly as possible. ...And also pretend that you weren't disappointed about anything in regards to your ex-boyfriend.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of speed walking and making your way through the maze of the airport, you and Jungshine arrived at the entrance to the rideshare area. Of course, as you approached your driver, you apologized profusely for being late and, in turn, thanked him profusely for waiting for you.

Meanwhile, while you were apologizing and thanking and trying to catch your breath, you felt someone gently take your suitcase from your hand and gingerly slide your bag off your shoulder. When you turned to get in the car after your driver assured you for the fifth time it was fine, you saw Jungshin closing the trunk and heading to the opposite side of the car.

Wait, really? ...Jungshin had just done that? He had seen you were busy talking to (see: apologizing and thanking) the driver, so instead of interrupting you to ask for your luggage, he'd just stealthily taken it from you? He'd taken care of business without asking you if he should -- because it had been obvious it was not a good time to ask you?

Something was not right here.

First, he had been thoughtful enough to change his airplane ticket so you wouldn't have to share a plane with him (you weren't fully certain that was the reason he'd done it, of course, but you were telling yourself it was until you were proven otherwise). Second, he packed the trunk with your luggage without asking you if he should.

Jungshin had never been this astute and attentive in your relationship. That had been your thing, and it had eventually worn you down too much that you hadn't been able to continue.

If you were made of sterner stuff, you would ask him about it. But you currently felt as if you'd been put through the emotional wringer, and you were certain you wouldn't be able to handle the answer he gave you.

It wasn't until you felt the car ease into motion that you were able to let out a sigh of relief.

You'd made it.

You'd made it through seeing Jungshin for the first time, talking to Jungshin for the first time. You'd made it through the flight, and you were in the car on the way to the hotel.

Of course, you still had to make it through the actual wedding, but still. This was a good first step.

But then you heard Jungshin inhale quickly and deeply.

This was a telltale sign he was about to say something, so any relief you felt evaporated instantly. You'd have had to suffer a concussion with amnesia to forget that, honestly.

"I know I already asked, but... really, how have you been?" he asked you, his voice quiet.

You simply furrowed your brow and turned your head to look at him. "How have you been?" you asked in return, your tone making it obvious that whatever his answer was would be the same as yours. You weren't the only one going through a break-up, after all.

Jungshin responded with a breathless chuckle, slowly nodding his head. "Got it," he murmured. "Just to be clear, I thought about calling you so many times, I just... wasn't sure if I should."

You furrowed your brow even more, but this time, it was in confusion.

"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me," he explained, obviously interpreting your expression correctly. "At least not yet."

Well, you couldn't say he didn't know you.

I mean, not that breaking up and not seeing or speaking to each other for a few months meant all knowledge and memories of you would suddenly vanish from his head, but... I mean, come on! He shouldn't be able to still read you this easily!

You bit the inside of your cheek for a few seconds before answering him with a wordless shrug.

"I changed my flight for the same reason, but I guess you had the same idea," Jungshin continued, his lips quirked up into a bemused grin.

So, you'd been right. He had changed his flight for thoughtful reasons.

And you had now thought about it so much that you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out, "I don't understand. You didn't really do things like that when we were together unless I asked you."

It hadn't been your intention to scold him, of course, but the expression on his (frustratingly handsome) face morphed into one that made it seem like you had.

"Yeah..." he muttered, lowering his voice even more. "I won't lie, it was a huge wake-up call for me when you left. I didn't realize you having to ask me those things was a burden."

His eye flitted up to the front seat, and when you shifted your gaze to follow his, you saw the driver was very obviously being nosy.

Could you blame him? Absolutely not. You would've done the same thing!

But, still. You weren't one to air your private affairs out in public, and you definitely weren't going to change your ways today.

"Can we have dinner tonight, maybe?" Jungshin murmured.

You simply nodded and mouthed 'Text me later'.

After Jungshin silently gave you a two-fingered salute, you leaned your head back against your seat and closed your eyes.

Just a few minutes ago, you'd let out a sigh of relief and felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You'd felt like you'd made it.

But the prospect of not only seeing Jungshin multiple times and for many hours over the long weekend but also having dinner with him tonight and having to... talk about your feelings? The relief was vanishing. The weight was settling right back on you.

If it weren't for the fact that your best friend, Emily, would soon be the happiest and most beautiful bride to exist, you just might classify the next several days as the most dreaded in your life.

Part 3

[nadekofannumber1]

Thoughts on Nadeko and Tsukihi's relationship?

I’d say as a base opinion it’s the kind of friendship one only makes in elementary school. The sort of drift of interests to be different people yet when meeting having a sort of strange sort of synergy that makes the two work as a duo is def emblematic of an elementary school friendship that persisted past what many would realistically make friends about when they’re older. I also find it pretty realistic for Nadeko to mentally cling on to Tsukihi and by extension the Araragi household via that loss of a close childhood friend by changing schools and failing to keep contact. Tsukihi was Nadeko’s best friend, so much so she imagined marrying her brother so she could hang out with her forever, a childish interpretation of marriage but a little funny in retrospect imagining that Tsukihi would also be there on any romantic social event she planned with Koyomi bc they’d all be “besties together”. As a social dynamic Tsukihi can be pretty toxic and weird but that’s also part of her charm, Nadeko certainly wasn’t ready for that hair cutting incident but talking to Tsukihi was important bc she can specifically cut through Nadeko’s bullshit. Tsukihi has a lot of friends but Nadeko is definitely also important to her, important enough to spend a romantic holiday with her over her “boyfriend” stating that “you either spend it with a loved one or with Einstein”. Either interpretation of that places value on Nadeko in her mind. You could also in theory imagine that it’s weird to hang out with someone because you like their sibling and want to date them but not only was Tsukihi chill with it but a lot of those feelings were actually physically debunked in arc. They certainly calm down over time and I’m glad for it, part of me feared they’d stay a weird toxic thing forever but it overall just ended up as more of a mellow relaxed relationship when both made it clear what they wanted and went for it.

Really I find how they’re written as a good representation of weird toxic middle school girlgirl friendships that somehow manage to remedy themselves with time. Perhaps maybe even more than remedy depending on how people read them.

The ship is pretty cute as well I think. At times I’m hesitant with them in any form of relationship (even friendship) bc I project on to Nadeko and I see the sort of weird middle school elementary dynamic pseudo weirdness/toxicity of some of these things in it but idk if that’s fully fair to it as a ship so I try to shrug it off and try and remain more objective with it. Dynamic wise they do make a rather nisio style couple, which is fun. Also the romantic subtext is very interesting thing to work with narratively as it can really change a lot of ways one reads the arc, I like seeing it as both a strange middle ground of romantic and platonic bc I think that the weird childhood friendship thing is important to analyze but also the romantic twist sort of sweetens it regardless of requiting or relationship. I enjoy the complexity of it.

I’m not particularly into monogatari shipping as I got into monogatari before I got into shipping, but I love playing with character dynamics so it’s fun to just stick people together and see what happens even if it’s not an OTP or avid shipper scenario. It’s about observing from different angles for me at this point. If I get into a monogatari ship intensely somewhere down the line that’s on me.

TLDR they’re interesting and add to each other character wise in ways that makes you want to see them

[weyrleaders]

here have another one lol the fact that flirting with jax leads to the reveal that yall have been flirting back and forth for ages makes me want to scream in the woods at 3am so thank you for that @vapolis

i have no idea how the prosthetic eyes work so i took some liberties for the sake of what little plot there is

Aster has always preferred to work alone. At the end of the day, the only person you can really count on is yourself. So why risk relying on someone else when they won’t always be there?

That said, he does enjoy working with Jax. They may be acquaintances at best, but Aster does appreciate Jax’s work ethic. He doesn’t have to plan around Ray’s faux impulsivity, or Ray’s knack for wasting valuable time, or the odds that Ray will make a detour to fuck a stranger in an alley. Ray’s unwillingness to do whatever it takes to get results. Ray’s—

Aster sighs. The little fucker’s not even around and he’s still managing to get on Aster’s nerves. And Aster’s fairly certain why that is.

He glances over at Jax. He’s leaning against the ledge, peering down at the mansion below with one hand on his gun. They’ve been waiting for a few hours, but now the guests have started to arrive.

Aster keeps quadruple-checking his gear without taking his eyes off Jax.

“McClair?” He asks, just loud enough for Jax to hear, the first word either of them has spoken since they settled in to watch.

“Not yet,” Jax replies.

“Then we have a few minutes,” responds Aster. Both glocks are loaded and ready, holdout pistol secured in his right boot, holdout switchblade ready to be stashed in his left. It’s redundant to go over it all again. The third time was enough.

Jax is still looking down at the mansion, scanning the crowd as they head inside. It really is strange to see him out of his usual clothes, foregoing designer button-downs for nondescript street clothes. Which are probably also designer, to be fair. Aster wonders how many weapons he managed to fit in his coat.

“Can you please do me a favor and just fuck Ray already?” Aster asks, sliding his knife back into his boot after testing the sharpness.

Jax doesn’t startle easily, and he doesn’t visibly react beyond cutting his eyes over at Aster for a brief second.

“Excuse me?”

Aster sighs again.

“Our staff meetings—”

“It’s hardly a staff meeting with only four people,” Jax mutters under his breath.

“—are getting unbearable. I know you want him, and while I do have to question your taste—”

“You wore a denim jacket with jeans last week.”

“—I won’t judge you for it,” Aster continues. “Please, for all our sakes, take the bastard to bed and get it out of both of your systems.”

Because that’s how Ray operates. Almost always once, rarely ever twice, and Aster can count on one hand how many other hook-ups have become any sort of semi-permanent arrangement. Not because he cares or has any interest, but because Ray’s an over-sharer who never shuts up and Orla has specifically forbidden him from cutting Ray’s tongue out with the first piece of rusty silverware he can get his hands on. He even asked nicely.

Aster is going to lose no matter what, really. He doesn’t know anything about Jax’s sex life and would love for that particular status quo to remain. But having to sit through Ray’s little play-by-play of what they manage to get up to because they’re stuck in the same room would be worth not having to deal with the weird sexual tension that happens whenever Ray and Jax make eye contact across Orla’s desk. At least the detailed summary would only be once. The longing gazes are forever.

Jax glances over again and narrows his eyes before turning back to the mansion.

“How do you think I feel when you fall over yourself to agree with Orla on everything?”

“That’s different,” Aster hisses. “Of course I agree with her, she’s my boss. McClair?”

“I think that’s his car,” he reports. “She said you did well on that last job and you were practically drooling.”

“I was not—”

“As your coworker, I’m telling you—McClair’s here, we have two minutes—that it’s not going to end well.”

“Stop dodging my original point,” Aster says, keeping his tone very carefully flat as he stands. He makes his way to the edge of the roof where Jax is keeping watch just in time to see their target go inside.

Jax makes for the fire escape as Aster takes his original position at the ledge. As soon as Jax is out of sight, Aster taps their joint mission channel on his SocialLink to get his attention. Jax sends back an acknowledgment.

Aster watches the mansion for any sign of movement. His eyes are better, even if he can’t keep up the fancy tricks for long.  Jax is good, but he can’t be expected to watch the front door, the side entrances, and all the windows at the same time.

Jax tracks down McClair’s car once the valet leaves it unattended. It wouldn’t be fair to continue their discussion, since Jax can’t reply, so Aster just hangs back and lets him work. There’s a brief moment where a woman pauses by one of the windows, and Aster zooms in to watch her face and body language while taking mental notes of what she looks like in case they have to track her down later. But she doesn’t show any sign of alarm or confusion and wanders off after a moment, so Aster returns to his patrol.

McClair isn’t actually the target. They’re here for the prototype in his car. Aster doesn’t know what it is, exactly, just that it’s very valuable and very secret. And he’s selling it to Orla for a lot of money, which is in the small case that Jax is supposed to leave in place of the prototype.

It’s not as if McClair can safely meet with any of them without risking his reputation or job—and thus any more interesting toys he may be willing to part with later down the line—so he and Jax are once again on pickup detail. Aster does a lot of that, lately. Mostly because Ray has Orla convinced he lacks the patience for it and would likely fuck it up. Asshole.

“Done,” Jax reports in a hushed whisper.

Aster enhances his vision and hits the override for his eyes so they can move faster. Everyone is still inside and no one has lingered at the windows. The valet is still waiting by the door and hasn’t so much as glanced in the direction of the parking area. It’s still a very long couple of minutes until Aster hears Jax making his way back up the fire escape.

Aster closes his eyes and reverts their settings back to normal, massaging his temples. He’s going to be eating those black market headache meds Echo got for him like candy tonight.

“As I was saying,” Aster grates out, “watching the two of you dance around each other like school children is painful. You’re both adults. Stop making all of us suffer when you know he’s going to say yes before you even finish asking.”

“And as I was saying,” counters Jax, “you should really be careful about throwing those rocks from inside that glass house of yours.”

Aster sighs.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Can I rec like obsessive/stalking shig or Dabi

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Content: Obsession, Possessiveness, Dom/Sub dynamics, Under Negotiated Kink, Masturbation

Dabi's strange little crush was amusing at first. It was funny that he thought Tomura couldn't tell what he was doing, but he had picked up on it immediately. For all of his isolation, he did take a fair amount of enjoyment in people watching and watching his teacher manipulate his pawns. And Toga had smelled the crush on him the moment it solidified, and had been eager to tell him about it to try and get romance blooming. So having Dabi try to pull his pigtails by being so obstinate and insubordinate during meetings had been more amusing than anything else, especially when the other man was always so eager to not only do his job, but do it well. The crush was amusing. And now it isn't. 

Tomura would never say that he was fond of all of his teacher's allies. His teacher always tried to get as much out of the villains he worked with as he could, and he would work with anyone if they had something useful. Tomura doesn't plan on working like that when he takes over, already has a list of contacts he'll be cutting off once the decision is up to him. Ryuya Wakahara is at the top of the list. Wakahara is a thin man with a rat-like face, small sharp nose, sharp chin, and perpetually gaunt cheeks. He was balding when Tomura had been a child, but now has rather poorly done plugs to give him a falsely full head of slicked back black hair. And perhaps, the five eyes, an additional set beneath his normal one, and a single one on his forehead, are also somewhat off-putting. Especially when they can each move individually, especially, especially when he knows his quirk allows him to strip back and ignore different parts of the visual light spectrum at will, giving him the ability to see through anything and in infrared and he's sure other ways as well. Notably can see through walls, through safe doors, and, unfortunately, through clothes as well. Something the man always somehow manages to allude to whenever meeting someone new. Delights in watching them squirm and Tomura has seen his arrest record and is privy to the far worse crimes that his teacher has helped him get away with. 

He hates meeting with him, but unfortunately it was necessary. Hates that Kurogiri was preoccupied with his teacher which means he has to bring Dabi with him as his second. He's fairly good at controlling his distaste when he absolutely has to, and since Wakahara has the blueprints for the summer camp, it is absolutely necessary. Was mild when they made small talk before actually getting down to business, and thankfully, it wasn't long before money and blueprints were changing hands. Absolutely ready to be done with this. 

"We should have a drink sometime, Tomura," his skin crawls. Doesn't know if it's more because of hearing his first name out of this creep's mouth or the fact he feels bold enough to reach out and touch his forearm as he starts to turn back to Dabi. "You've grown up so much since we last spoke," three of his eyes moving over his body, his primary ones locked on his face which he forces to remain passive. "It could be fun to catch up." 

He plans to pull his arm away and rebuff him professionally. He doesn't get a chance. Dabi is moving around him, always knew the arsonist was fast, but he moves too quickly for Tomura to even think about stopping him. And then Dabi is grabbing Wakahara's arm, ripping his hand from Tomura's sleeve with a snarled, 

"Don't touch him!" Before blue flame is erupting in the space where Wakahara was standing. Only screams for a few seconds before his corpse is charcoal and smoldering against the warehouse floor, the air filled with the smell of smoke, burnt hair, and meat. Tomura doesn't say anything for a second, a little too shocked that Dabi's crush has apparently spiraled this far out of control. He doesn't even know what he's going to do about this. But then Dabi moves and picks up the briefcase full of money they'd brought to buy the blueprints before turning and starting to head towards the door. "Oh look, you got a discount, boss. Sure your teach will love that." And he just keeps going, completely nonplussed. Doesn't manage to say anything to him, but the crush is definitely a lot less amusing now. 

///

"Tomu," He braces himself. Toga only calls him that when she wants something, and usually only when it's something she doesn't think she's going to get unless he's in a particularly good mood. Only three days out from Dabi burning someone to death for touching him, he's definitely not in a good mood. 

"What?" And his voice is plenty short enough to reflect that. 

"Can Magne, Twice, and I go to that club your friend's friend owns? Please?" 

He's tempted to say no. They have a lot of work to do, but it's mostly just planning stages right now, and he doesn't really need everyone around for the time being. They also won't have many chances to go out once this job goes off so any scant bit of freedom they have now, is really all they're going to get until they finish their work. "Fine, keep out of trouble." 

"Yay, thanks, Shiggy!" She gives him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. He's never gotten so much platonic physical affection in his life since the League settled. Magne, Twice, and Toga are huggers. Spinner always bumps their knuckles together when they're playing something, Compress is always patting them on the shoulders or back. Dabi is the only one who keeps his hands to himself. She goes bounding out of the room and they only have to wait another half an hour before the three of them are heading out. Compress and Spinner are at their own places already for the night, and Kurogiri still isn't back from whatever his teacher is having him do. So it's just him and Dabi in the bar for the time being. Which means they should probably talk about what happened. Dabi is sitting on the chair beside the couch, looking at the blueprints and smoking.

"You're not going to set Toga on fire for touching me, are you?" 

Doesn't even look up, "No. Toga doesn't want to fuck you." 

Well, he was never under the impression that Dabi was anything other than blunt. "As flattering as the crush is, you can't go around burning anyone you think might catch or want my attention. Especially not people who are supposed to be our business partners." 

Dabi still doesn't look up at him, but his shoulders hunch in a little more and he... scowls. No, he pouts, and Tomura hates how cute he looks being so petulant. "They don't deserve your attention." 

"And you do?" The arsonist hunches in a little more on himself. 

"..no, sir." 

Tomura is not prepared for how quickly heat ignites in his veins. Did not think he would ever be given Dabi's submission so readily. Can't help wanting to push that and see how far it can go. "Stop smoking in here. It's bad enough when Twice does it." Dabi immediately puts the cigarette out against his wrist. He's about to admonish him for hurting himself, but he doesn't press the cherry to his skin, rather against one of his staples with practiced ease. Doubts the heat of the cigarette is strong enough to mess with them if they can withstand his flames. Dabi waits for another order and Tomura makes him. Goes right back to his work without glancing at him. Keeps Dabi waiting ten minutes. Then, 

"Come here." His voice cool, as if this isn't worth his attention either. Dabi moves over to him immediately, moving to sit beside him. "No," snaps his fingers and points at the thin strip of floor between the coffee table and couch. Dabi doesn't even hesitate, kneels at his feet and keeps waiting. Gives him another few minutes to stew as he tries to decide if this is a good idea or not. If he even cares when he could have someone as dangerous and pretty as Dabi at his side if he does. He reaches towards Dabi, still not looking, but he feels his temperature go up a little as his hand draws closer to his head. Wonders if that's fear. If he really will try to burn him if he thinks that he's about to die. He drops his hand into his hair. 

One finger is raised, and Dabi is still too warm under his palm, but he doesn't combust. Gives a little shiver as he starts to run his hand through his hair, nails scratching lightly across his scalp. "You made things more difficult for me by killing him. I'll have to explain his death to my teacher." Glances at him out of the corner of his eye. He's the picture of contrite submission, hands knotted into fists against his knees, shoulders hunched, head down. It's a heady rush of power that goes through him at seeing the other man so willing to take his beratement. "What do you have to say for yourself." 

"You didn't like him. He was making you uncomfortable--" 

"And I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." His voice hard and sharp. Dabi flinches under his hand. 

"...I'm sorry, sir."

He hums in the back of his throat. "If you can't control yourself I'll have to have you leave." 

"No!" And his temperature goes up a few more degrees, hands desperately tangling in his shirt sleeve. "Don't please, I'll be good, don't make me leave, I can be good, I'll be useful, I--" 

He's taken aback by the sheer desperation in Dabi's voice, in the way he sounds so frantic and shaky. He doesn't know Dabi that well, is probably the person he knows the least about in the whole League. But clearly there is something to this obsession and terror of being abandoned. Something he can work with. "Shh." 

Dabi immediately stills his tongue, but he's looking up at him with desperate blue eyes and there's a tremble running through his whole body. Dangerous. The alarm bells are going in the back of his mind. Dabi is dangerous. Obsessive, unstable, deadly. As useful as he can be, as good at his job as he is when he's not just trying to get a rise out of him-- when he's trying to get his attention, he realizes now-- keeping him around is a risk to his plans. Dabi won't give a shit about their goals. He'll do anything for him, though he does think that the other man has also shown he has enough sense to mostly know when to stay his hand. Tomura isn't quite sure what he did to inspire that level of unhinged loyalty, but it does give him an intoxicating jolt. He shouldn't keep him around. He should dust him right now while no one is home and tell them they had a fight and he left. 

"If you want to stay you'll have to prove to me how good you can be. Follow my orders, not act up, be patient. Do you like being like this, firefly?" 

The prettiest pink blush flares to life on the thin strip of unscarred skin across Dabi's cheeks. "Yes, sir." Breathless when he speaks. 

"Then if you're good, and patient, and do your job well, then when I have time, I'll reward you like this in private." Gently tugs his arm out of the other's grasp so he can use a single finger to trace that pretty color across Dabi's cheeks. Not expecting for it to earn him a desperate, thready moan from his lips as his eyes fall closed and he leans forward a little to try and get more. Fuck, this is a bad idea. 

Turns one finger to two, trails them from his temple down along the edge of his jaw slowly, watches Dabi's breath get a little shorter, his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. Tomura traces over the staples in his chin so he can very lightly run the pads of his fingers over Dabi's scarred lip. The other man immediately opens his mouth, tries to flick his tongue against them, but he withdraws, moving down over his chin and tracing the column of his throat instead. His scarred skin is such an interesting texture, and he's not sure if it's more sensitive than the rest of his skin, or if Dabi is just so receptive to his touch, but as he trails along the swell of his chest, just visible above the low cut collar of his shirt, he sees the other man start to squirm slightly. Is tracing over the bumps of staples when he sees that his cock is hardening in his pants. 

"Like having my hand on you that much, firefly?" Amusement, a little mockery in his voice. It makes Dabi tremble a little harder. Looks like it makes his cock a little harder too. This is a terrible idea. This is exactly why Kurogiri is always watching him whenever he's here, can't always be a perfect general. "Touch yourself, firefly." 

Dabi doesn't even hesitate, reaching for his belt as his cheeks darken and his pretty eyes go half-lidded and hazy with his lust. 

"No, not like that." Still doesn't put up a fight as he brings his hand to the swell of his erection and starts to rub and grind his palm against himself. Blue eyes never leaving his face. So wanting, desperate for his touch, his attention, his approval. He wonders how much more broken he could make Dabi if he withheld them. Catches his chin between his forefinger and thumb to tilt his head a bit higher. Wants to see the long line of his throat and how his staples gleam when the light catches them just right. Wonders what shape he would take if he lavished Dabi with all three. What he would do if he wrapped a collar around his neck. If he would even care if he put him on a leash in front of anyone else. 

Opens his hand, pressing his thumb across Dabi's lips and slowly dropping a finger, one-by-one against his neck. Stops at four, but Dabi doesn't even flinch. Doesn't seem to even notice or care because he opens his mouth again and flicks his tongue over the pad of his thumb. He lets out a loud moan as he does, like the taste of his skin is the best thing he's ever known as his hand starts to work over himself a little rougher, a little faster. It's an indulgence that he allows when Dabi takes his thumb between his lips and starts to lick and swallow around it. Is definitely trying to entice him, clearly wants more than just this. Wants to be between his legs, and Tomura doesn't doubt how good his slightly too-hot mouth will feel, how much more of a pretty picture he'll make with his cock fed between his eager lips. But this has to be about control. Unchecked this will go from a bad idea to catastrophic. He needs to make Dabi earn rewards like that. Needs to make sure he knows that bad behavior won't be tolerated. 

He lets Dabi keep touching himself, watches him as he does, would be lying if he said having the other man so at his mercy wasn't making his own cock stir, but he ignores that. And it seems like, so long as his eyes are on Dabi, so long as he's even touching him with a single finger, that's enough to keep him needy and pushing towards the edge. Knows he's getting closer when his breaths start to come in harsher, when he starts to trickle smoke out of his seams, and there are little bitten off moans and gasps falling from his lips. 

"Ah, ah, Tomura--" That gives him a surge of heat. Never heard Dabi use his name before. Hasn't ever heard anyone say it so reverently. But he just hums in acknowledgement. Dabi's hand moves a little more desperately. "Please, sir, please," close, but clearly he wants something else to bring him over the edge. 

"Would you like it if I kissed you, Dabi?" Immediately has the arsonist moaning loudly, nodding his head desperately, trying to get closer without disobeying his order to stay on the floor. "No." 

He whimpers, but his hand keeps moving against his cock. 

"You'll have to earn that. Just like anything else. You misbehaved so badly this week, you're lucky that you're getting anything at all." 

"I'm sorry, please sir," 

"No. You don't even deserve to feel good. All you deserve," and he roughly shoves three fingers between Dabi's lips, "is to know that you're a desperate whore, who isn't worthy of my time." Presses down hard on the back of his tongue, swears to god he feels stitches running across it, as Dabi lets out a sound that might be a gag and a moan. His eyes shut and his whole body shudders sharply and his hand abruptly stops moving. Oh, he's nearly purring with his satisfaction that he was right, and that that was enough to make the other man cum. Dabi's breath is still coming in roughly when he pulls his fingers out of his mouth, wipes his spit away on his cheek before turning back to the blueprints. "Your punishment for this week is that you are going to keep kneeling there in your mess until the others come home. You will speak only if you have something relevant about the job. Am I clear?" 

"Yes, sir," Still a little breathless. Sounds just chastised enough, but Tomura gets the feeling that rewards are going to be a far more reliable way of getting Dabi to do what he wants. 

The crush is certainly not amusing anymore, but it is interesting in a new way that he's eager to explore. 

Thank you for submitting!

[grimmbitty]

Okay guys here’s my writing sample for my current work in progress!

└── ⋆⋅⚡️⋅⋆ ──┘

Shazam: City of Brotherly Love

Chapter one: Work in Progress

(Revision: fight scene fix & grammar fix )

It was an early autumn day. The kind of day where the wind was cool and brisk, but the sun covered everything with a subtle warmth that I could feel against my skin. I was intermixed in the small crowd that was my new foster siblings as we walked down the block, on our way to school. It was my first day at Fawcett High, my second day at the Vasquez house, and my third time getting reassigned to a new home this year.

I’ve done a lot of moving around, especially these past few years, but I don’t let that stuff get to me. I am so close to actually finding my mom this time around. I’m just really hoping the kids in this group home actually leave my stuff alone. I always keep the most important things in my backpack anyways, because I get tired of people rummaging through my belongings when I'm not looking.

As Freddy and Mary talked amongst themselves, the youngest kid in the group home was most excited to give me a tour. Her name was Darla, and it was the easiest to remember because she wrote it on a banner she hung on the wall, over the bed I was sleeping in this past weekend.

She talked the entire time. And I felt kinda bad that she was wasting her breath, because I was only half listening anyways, tuning in and out of her descriptions as we made our way into the school. It was a very familiar scene. A sea of a thousand faces passing by. People talking, people screaming, people jumping, hugging, and twirling each other around as if they didn’t just see each other yesterday.

Darla’s voice pulled me back out of my train of thought. “And here’s the main hallway. This school is pretty big so if you get lost, there's a map over there. But I think for today I could walk you to your first class just in case.”

Freddy cut into the conversation , “Hey, I think he’s got it from here, D. I know you’re excited for him to have his first day at Fawcett, but let’s just give him a little room to breathe for now.”

As we made our way over to their lockers, Darla went with Mary and stopped at her locker first. I continued walking down the hall following Freddy’s lead as we made our way to his locker. He looked over at me with a hint of concern in his eye. I felt his gaze look me up and down quickly before taking a step closer. “Hey dude, you’re okay, right? I know this is a lot for one morning.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose while I took a second to think. Doing the whole “new foster kid” thing at almost every school in West Philly didn’t really phase me, but I was pissed that I got reassigned to a group home on the other side of town. I knew getting caught was going to be a major setback and I still had a lot of work to do if I was gonna keep trying to find mom. Not to mention I already spent what little money I had on bus passes and subway tokens.

I look back at Freddy, “Yeah, I’m fine.” I let myself fall back onto the lockers to lean on them as we continue talking.

“Don’t worry. I know new faces, new school, new home. It’s a lot. I get it, but I genuinely think once you kinda get the feel for things around here you’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

“Everyone says that, Freddy.” I look off to the side, avoiding eye contact as he shoots me an abrupt look of confusion, tilting his head to one side as he furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Look. I don’t mean to be a dick but, I don’t plan on staying here for long. I'm sure you guys are lovely, but I already have a family. I already have a mom. They’re out there, looking for me. I know it.”

Freddy let out a small sigh. “Billy, look. I know this shit sucks, hard. Everyone in this house has done their fair share of running away too. We’ve all tried it at least once. But, you should at least give this place a chance.”

I lightly scoffed at the idea. “Yeah, well whatever, I guess.”

“Listen I know I can’t stop you if you’ve already got your mind set on looking for your mom. But, just between us, I would just try to settle down somewhere until you age out of the system so you can at least keep a roof over your head.” I could see his expression grow more concerned as he spoke. “I just don’t want you to run out of places you can fall back on.”

As I opened my mouth to reply, I was interrupted by the loud crash that was two upperclassmen barging down the hall. To my unfortunate surprise they slam open the locker door next to Freddy, nearly crushing his hand in the process. Freddy scoffed, annoyed as we saw them jam wads of crumpled papers into their lockers.

“Hey Freeman, you wanna keep your crutches to yourself bro?” One of the guys said as he pushed Freddy’s crutch with his shoe.

“Seriously man, how many peoples toes do you smash with that thing in a day?”

Freddy took a step back. “Dude, I was here first, and I was almost done anyways. What’s your problem?”

Both of the upperclassmen started to smirk at each other in amusement. “It was just a joke man, you don’t have to be so soft all the time.” Then he pushed Freddy backwards into me and I felt the weight of his body hit me like a bag of sand. I helped him regain his balance so he didn’t get the chance to fully hit the ground. But these douchebags were seriously just okay with doing this?

“Freddy, who the hell are these guys?” I whisper to him as I hear Mary shout in the distance. Slamming her locker and starting to yell at them as she stomps over.

Freddy says, “They’re the Bryers. Most annoying dudes in school.” He rolls his eyes. “They’re both technically in my grade but one of them is a super senior, so he should’ve already graduated by now.”

“Yeah, that guy who shoved you looks like he’s pushing thirty. He should probably worry more about figuring out his plans for retirement instead of being a dick.”

Freddy covers his mouth with his free hand as we both start to giggle to ourselves. Then as we regain our chill we start to tune back into Mary’s scolding. “And another thing, literally half the things you guys say aren’t even “jokes”. They’re just shallow insults you guys laugh after saying because you guys are assholes.”

Freddy seemed a little taken aback by Mary calling someone an asshole, especially since Darla was standing only a few feet away.

“You guys need to grow up. You’re not funny, no one here likes you, and you guys need to learn to keep your hands to yourself and leave people alone!”

I started to wince a bit at the scenario playing before me. I could tell that Mary was pissed, and that she meant every word she said. She was standing up for her brother, and I respect that. But, after every word the Bryers just smiled and giggled to each other more and more. They didn’t care about anything she was saying, they were just getting entertainment out of the fact that she was so mad her face was turning red.

They continued to take turns taunting. One of them jumped back into the conversation, “What are you gonna do about it Bromfield? Give me a lecture? Send me to my room? Mary please, you’re such a baby. Just because you like to boss people around all day and play pretend mom for your fake siblings doesn’t actually make you the boss of anyone. It just makes you look like a massive dork.”

Mary recoiled in disbelief. Any red in her cheeks that she lost catching her breath in the passing moments came back twofold.

I spoke up from behind Mary as she whipped her head around, almost seemingly like she forgot that Freddy and I were witnessing these boneheads too. “You guys are being total assholes for no reason.”

The brothers pushed Mary out of the way and walked over to me and Freddy. Their faces etched with both disgust and confusion. “ I don’t know who this guy is, but let’s get one thing straight. We weren’t being assholes, you guys are just babies. Do none of you guys know what a joke is or are you guys just soft or something?”

“At least I’m not soft in the head, like you two are.”

Freddy shot me an alarmed side eye as the brothers talked amongst each other. Under their breath I could hear one of them say. “Did you just call us stupid?” He said as he shoved me with annoyance.

“Get your gross-ass hands off of me!” I fired back as I shoved the younger brother into his older brother as a taste of his own medicine.

Then they both started to walk closer to me, their figures blocking out the lights in the hall as the smell of body odor and old milk started to creep into my nose. I took a step back to try and preserve my personal space.

“We’re not soft in the skull, dipshit. But you might be.” One of the brothers said as he grabbed my head and slammed it into the wall of lockers behind me.

A sharp jolt of pain shot through every inch of my skull as I grabbed the back of my head in sudden agony. I accidentally let out a small yelp as the feeling erupted through all my nerves. Overwhelming me before I could even process what just happened.

The loud crash of the lockers made everyone in the hall start to look in our direction.Their faces slightly blurred as a sudden wave of dizziness tuned out the shouts of the growing crowd. It was time to go. I ducked under one of the brothers arms and tried to make a break for the exit, only making it two steps before I was yanked backwards by the hood of my jacket.

I tried to squirm around to break free, trying to focus more on escaping than landing any hits, but I was hardly able to keep my feet on the ground. The younger brother put his arms underneath both of my armpits, locking me into place and forcing both of my arms out to the side. Leaving me in an extremely unfavorable position to win this fight.

The older of the two brothers started to roll up his sleeve as he stomped closer to me, winding up his fist to punch me as hard as he could. The faint sounds of Freddy and Mary shouting at them to stop faded into the distance as I saw his fist come hurtling towards me.

I had only seconds before I was either about to lose either some of my teeth or some of my breakfast. So I had to think fast. As the younger of the two brothers was still struggling to hold me still I reflexively ducked just in time to hear the *click* of his brother’s knuckles colliding full force into his jaw.

The feeling of the icy cold floor was an immediate taste of relief that I never thought I’d feel as I got up and started to make a run for it. The bell for first period rang throughout the halls as I saw a flock of adults running over to the Bryers. I escaped and made my way out the front two doors. As I sprinted out to the sidewalk I heard the Bryers burst out of the school’s front doors right behind me, cussing me out as they began to chase after me.

Not the best first day I’ve ever had, but definitely one of the most entertaining ones.

End.

[practically-an-x-man]

trying to plot the story so thought I'd ask my first question now XD since you know more about this kind of forensic stuff, if you were Ricki what would your next steps be? :)

Oooh, good question!

(fair warning, this got LONG)

(and again take all this with a grain of salt since I'm not a professional forensic scientist, it was just my major before I dropped out of college. If you plan on going deep into the science/technical side of things, I'd definitely suggest asking people who are active in the industry)

So I think there are two sides of this: how the case will proceed, and how Ricki will proceed. Those are two different things, since Ricki absolutely defied crime scene protocol in that first chapter and the forensic scientists will have a different protocol. But let's get into this!

The case: At this point, further law enforcement will be called to secure the scene. Extensive photos of the scene will be take both before any changes are made and after the evidence is identified and labeled, and these photos will include close-ups, mid-range shots, and shots that encompass the whole scene from various angles. They also will investigate well around the scene in order to identify any further evidence or directional clues. Because the scene is outdoors, they don't necessarily have a set size to make the active scene (it's a little simpler with indoor scenes, since they'll close off the room, floor, or whole building), so it'll depend on the size of the event and where potential evidence may be found. Sketches may also be drawn of the scene, as a second measure to identify interacts between pieces of evidence.

Anyway. Since Ricki and her partner were first on the scene, they should be the first to call it in as a crime scene, and should stay to keep watch over the crime scene until other enforcements arrive and the scene is closed. Technically, they should have avoided tampering with the scene entirely upon discovering it, since they aren't forensic scientists (the one exception would be if they were able to save the victim's life - medicine can supercede preserving the crime scene if it's time-sensitive), but since they haven't...

Ricki and her partner will both be fingerprinted (they should already have prints on file, but a new set will probably also be taken in case of temporary changes such as cuts or calluses), and will likely have DNA samples taken (so their DNA can be ruled out when other evidence from the scene is sampled).

Assuming it's known that Ricki entered the crime scene herself and came in close contact with the victim, she will absolutely have her DNA and prints taken, and her clothing may be confiscated as evidence for analysis (especially if there's visible blood, toxin, or other evidence staining her clothing). She will be questioned about her role in the scene, and will likely be reprimanded for diving right into the scene the way she did. She may also be given a physical exam - those are typically given to victims, witnesses, and potential suspects present at the scene when the crime occurred, but since Ricki entered the scene before it was closed and the age of the scene could not be fully determined when she did, they may choose to give her an exam as well.

As for the scene itself, all points of potential evidence will be identified and assigned a specific number. Photographs will be taken, using numbered plastic "tents" to label them as well as small rulers placed near (but not touching) the evidence to get an approximation of size. Small pieces of evidence, such as hairs or clothing fibers, will be given a number and a written description, and will be placed into a bindle. Liquid evidence will be swabbed and placed in a sealed container, which will also be labeled. Wet or bloodstained clothing will be wrapped in paper, taking care not to touch or wipe off the evidence any more than is necessary - liquids that are still wet are easier to identify than dried liquids, especially when it comes to blood or other biological substances. Evidence that cannot be transported, such as footprints or those claw marks at the scene, will be extensively photographed and logged, and will be left as intact as possible for the forensic scientists to examine more thoroughly at the scene. If possible, a small portion of the sample may be removed for lab testing (i.e. a bloodstained patch of carpet from a carpeted floor), but this depends on the substance.

Everyone who enters and leaves the scene will have to clock in with an assigned manager (someone whose only job is to record everyone who enters and leaves, and when). There is no food, drink, or smoking allowed on the crime scene for risk of cross-contamination, and all who are in the crime scene are to avoid coughing, sneezing, or even talking more than is necessary to avoid biological contamination. All evidence will also have custody forms, detailing who had the evidence at what time - you want as few different people handling the evidence as possible, to reduce the risk of loss or cross-contamination. Evidence will be given to lab technicians as needed for analysis, and the scene will remain sealed until all analysis is complete (it's important that more samples can be collected as needed without the risk of cross-contamination).

The body will be strictly photographed, verbally described, and labelled before it is removed from the scene, but once it is removed it will be sent to a coroner or medical examiner. Those two are NOT the same: medical examiners have a medical degree and extensive training and are the ones you WANT to have examining the body, while coroners are elected positions that require minimal to no training.

In a city like Gotham, I'd expect MEs rather than coroners. They will determine the identity of the victim, assess any damage done to the body and label all injuries, and assess the age of the body based on rigor mortis, livor mortis, forensic entomology (for example, blowflies can colonize a corpse in as little as 5-10 minutes when undisturbed!), and other means. They will almost certainly bring in a toxicologist to examine the poison on the knives. The victim's clothing, as well as the knives themselves, will be taken as evidence for analysis as well.

Particularly if it's a large crime scene or will draw a lot of attention (this would qualify), a defined area for journalists will be assigned OUTSIDE the active scene. The information released about the case will be extremely limited at first, but news personnel are still given their own area for whatever information they are allowed to gather.

It's a PROCESS, and you can see how long this got even when I'm trying to simplify it. And of course, this is the best-case scenario as well - even with these guidelines, evidence may be missed or cross-contaminated, detectives may bring food or drink into the scene, and other fallacies may happen. Hell- one already did, with Ricki jumping into the scene, and that's bound to have some repercussions both for her and for the analysis of the scene. But that brings me to the second part:

For Ricki: She has her own piece of evidence, doesn't she? Now, technically speaking she SHOULD NOT have done that, for a variety of reasons. For one, that wasn't standard collection or identification procedure, and it could make that substance harder to identify (due to cross-contamination, age, being stored improperly, etc.). And on top of that, depending on how observant the other technicians on the scene are, they might notice that the blade was tampered with after the crime was committed, which is a wrench thrown in the plans. Either Ricki needs to fess up and face the consequences of tampering with the scene, or she could be sending the other scientists on a red herring. And it's not just the knife - her footprints, her fingerprints, lost hairs, fibers from her clothing that got caught on the scene, and any accidental nudges to other pieces of evidence could also throw off the analysis.

She needs to get this chemical identified. Forensics labs are not standardized, which is a problem with the system as a whole but benefits Ricki individually here. The Gotham City Police Department likely uses a city-wise, state-wide, or federally-sponsored forensics lab, but Ricki could take her sample to a private lab and have it analyzed... well, not off the record, but at least without the police department getting involved. There may still be contact between labs, and having analysis done on the same chemical from the crime scene could still stir up some trouble for her, but she reduces that risk by going to an independent lab.

I'm honestly not sure where she should go from there. It depends on what she wants to get out of this - is she trying to solve the case, or just get a lead on who did it so she can Nightwing up and take them down? There's only so much information she can get from having that chemical analyzed, even if the analysis turns out to be successful. I'd say from here, her best bet is to try and lay low, follow the forensic examiner's lead, and get her story cleared - being reprimanded or written up is still better than having her cross-contamination misinterpreted and being seen as a potential suspect. It helps that her partner saw her interact with the scene, having that witness strengthens her alibi even if the situation is a little messy overall.

And of course... this is Gotham. It's a fictional city, and a city that's known for having superpowered crime on the regular. They may very well have differing procedures and responses to the ones we have here in the real world. Forensics as a science is constantly undergoing revisions and is subject to human error in a vast multitude of ways - it might benefit your worldbuilding to think about how analysis may differ in a science-forward, superpower-adapted world like this.

[ruewrites]

Kinktober 2022 Day 26: Leather and Latex

AO3

Ship: Mammon/Mephistopheles

Word Count: 1021

Warnings: Suggestive/Mild Sexual Content

A/N: I had a teensy bit of trouble starting this one (originally it was completely different characters) but today the ball was really rolling! I hope you enjoy <3

Mephisto could feel the eyes on him before he bothered to turn his head. He shifted uncomfortably, but not because of the stairs. No. The cursed material clung to his skin in less than ideal places, leaving very little to the imagination for any onlooker throwing a glance his way.

He'd wanted only the best for this party, and he'd be giving only the best.

The original plan had been to show Diavolo what he was missing, to make him remember all the parts of Mephistopheles that he would never see again. Now that he was at the party, however, he was starting to feel a bit exposed. Of course, Diavolo didn't seem to be paying him much mind either, he was too busy fawning over every move that fallen angel was making. The more he watched the pair, the more he realized how much better Lucifer was wearing the material than him. His ass was more than well defined, and if his dick twitched as he watched Diavolo take a handful, well, now that was no one's business but his own.

His jaw clenched and he started to turn his attention elsewhere. Diavolo hadn't even noticed him. The rubbing of the tight material against his surprisingly hard member was making walking a bit difficult, and each pleasurable twitch certainly wasn't helping. The thought of the pair together like that seemed to be driving his body further. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. Why should he be plagued with thoughts of the two of them, especially when he hated Lucifer more than anything? Wasn't existing enough for him? Why did he have to invade Mephisto's thoughts as well?. Did he truly wish to be near him that badly? It was pathetic.

Pushing open the doors to the balcony, he let the chilly Devildom night air bite at his skin. Perhaps it would make him calm down. Instead of feeling stone as his hands met the railing, he was met with flesh. He almost screeched, almost. 

"Hey hey! Chill out dude! Are ya tryin ta get me caught?"

Oh. Oh no.

As if this night wasn't bad enough already.

"Mammon?"

"Shush!" Mammon hissed, "What part of 'I ain't tryin to get caught' don't you understand horse boy?"

"You aren't supposed to be here," Mephisto's voice was flat.

"Yeah. That's the point."

"I'm getting Lord Diavolo."

"No!"

Before Mephisto knew it, his back was pulled flush against Mammon and the railing. He didn't even get the chance to utter a cry of indignance or demand his release before Mammon lost his balance and sent them both tumbling over the edge. 

The pair landed on the ground below with a thump and a groan. Mephisto didn't even give himself a chance to recover or process the bruises his body would be feeling in the morning. He couldn't let himself be seen like this, being ignored by Diavolo was shameful enough as it was.

"Hey, quit that! I gotta move too!" Mammon whined, "Yer turnin me into a demon pretzel!"

"Well if you hadn't grabbed me we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Well if ya hadn't made yourself grabbable, I wouldn't have done it!"

"You miscreant! You-" Mephisto was cut off by a groan that left his own lips. Perhaps he should be struck down now, the humiliation was too much. Mammon's knee had made contact with his crotch. With the commotion, Mephistopheles had almost forgotten why he had stepped out in the first place. 

Mammon froze above him, and Mephisto was able to take in his attire for the first time. His eyes were immediately drawn to the leather straps across his chest. They were sturdy, and brought out the defined muscles of his chest. Now, he had two choices: push Mammon off and pretend none of this ever happened, or-

He was already here, he had already suffered the humiliation, how much worse could it possibly get for him?

Catching Mammon off guard, Mephisto grabbed him by the straps and yanked him downwards. Shock couldn’t even begin to describe the look on the greed demon’s face as he stared down at Mephistopheles, and perhaps under different circumstances, he would have allowed himself to enjoy Mammon’s face more. He had a mission though, and he needed to fulfill it before anyone else noticed them in the garden below. 

“Listen to me now you villain, you’ve gotten me into a predicament, and you’re going to help me get out of it,” he hissed, the authority in his voice almost shaking him. It wasn’t often he spoke like this, if at all. His predicament must have been impacting him more than he realized, “You are going to keep your knee right where it is, and I am going to ride it until I am  satisfied. Understood?”

Slowly Mammon nodded, eyes fixed on Mephistopheles, and that was all he needed to start. Closing his eyes, he started to move his hips slowly. The friction was heavenly, a much needed reprieve after the frustrating evening he’d been having. When his eyes opened, he noticed Mammon still staring, eyes fixed on his neck. Well, he was already here, might as well make things more pleasurable for himself. “If you would like to touch me, I could possibly find it in my heart to allow it.”

Craning his neck to the side, Mammon gave a glance to Mephisto and back towards his neck before leaning in. The little nibbles against his flesh coaxed a sigh out of him, and his eyes shut once more. As he continued to grind against Mammon’s thigh, his own leg raised. Suddenly Mammon was groaning against his neck. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t be done quite yet after he finished. 

Despite his frustrations from the night thus far, he might still be able to end on a high note after all. Despite the fact that Diavolo had chosen to ignore him this evening, he would continue to relish in the fantasies of Lucifer’s face if he ever found out Mephisto fooled around with one of his brothers. That would be a sight he would like to see.

[namine-mixi]

Sayaka never once loses her composure, reciting her day's progress with practiced ease. She ticks off the tasks she still needs to do next, along with her expected timeline. 

The CEO merely nods his head at her, and she understands, turning on her heels to exit the expansive office.

Fujiyama, meanwhile, stutters and trips on his words. You wince, but at the same time you totally understand how intimidating it is to be stared down by the famed Kaiba Corp Dragon himself. He somehow gets through his report, his shoulders dropping as he reports a timeline much later than Sayaka’s. You keep your eyelids low, but you peer at him from the side the best you can, curious to see how this will turn out for him. 

“I expect better next time, if you don't want to suddenly find yourself jobless.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, your gaze whipping up to him before you even knew it. 

Fujiyama stutters out a “T-thank you so m-much, sir!” as he practically sprints out, leaving you alone in the Dragon’s lair. The Dragon… Who was making direct eye contact with you. 

Was he waiting for me to look at him? 

You furrow your brows, but you're fairly confident your progress and your projected timeline were leagues ahead of Fujiyama’s. You've got nothing to be afraid of. 

“I'll be expecting overtime for making faces at me. Is that any way to act around your boss?”

“H-huh?”

“‘Huh?’ Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

You grip at your notes, trying to get your expressions under control because— is he smirking right now?? 

“Sir, I… I've scheduled your allotted personal time off around your tournament appearances and board meetings,” you've decided to stumble through your report regardless, “making sure to include at least 6 hours off at the minimum for rest—”

Kaiba steeples his fingers and rests his chin over them, “Did I ask you to do that?”

“Well, no, but—”

“But?”

“Surely everyone sleeps, sir!”

His smirk widens, looking almost slightly evil, “So you're saying I'm just like everyone else?”

You are this close to baring your teeth at him, “No. I will cut down on rest time and coordinate with the secretary team to reschedule your itineraries to start earlier in the day, if that's amenable, sir.”

He leans back in his high leather chair, clearly pleased with himself, “It is.”

“With the change in plans I project your adjusted schedule will be available the day after tomorrow.”

Kaiba opens his laptop and starts presumably working, you quietly sigh in relief, figuring this was all over. 

“No. I expect the new schedule effective immediately. Take charge. Coordinate with your staff.”

Your smile, fake as it already was, starts quivering, “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and,” You pause, already a few paces closer to the door. Kaiba glances at you, nonchalant, “I expect you in this office when I am, early as it may be. Understood?”

How is this fair? Not to throw him under the bus but wasn't Fujiyama far more deserving of having to render overtime until he gets his act together?”

You turn your head instead, throwing him the sweetest, saccharine smile you could muster, “My pleasure, sir!”

You stomp away, your heels barely clicking on the carpet, unknowingly leaving Seto Kaiba mildly stunned. 

[noisytenant]

personal story, regarding my adoption. poignant? don't know how to describe/warn for this.

first: kind of worried this is tmi? not in the sense of making others uncomfortable, but. "is it wise to share this information online to a sizable audience?"

but, well, i'm probably going to talk about it in a more coherent form eventually (i actually started a zine but didnt continue it; it was 2020, you know the drill), and i don't think it poses much risk to just share.

anyways.

i was adopted from birth, and was aware of my adoption from the beginning. my birth mother was 17(?) when she had me. not hard to see why she wasn't keeping me. never got the sense that i was rejected or abandoned or whatever.

with this knowledge i never really had any problems with being adopted, and mostly thought it was really cool, and that i was lucky. if anything i probably had a chip on my shoulder about it, and this has made me an extremely normal person.

anyways, in the office closet, shoved far in the back corner on a high shelf, was a baby bag that i assumed had things from my childhood.

but it actually had plushes, a doll, and letters from my birth mother--from her to me, and also from her to my parents--that i was unaware of and had never accessed. so it sat untouched for 20 years, i guess. to be fair, i never really asked about my birth mother at all, but... man, bit late for that, isn't it? but better late than never.

anyways, i'm rereading the letters now. some darkly(?) funny parts:

"...I know you guys [my parents] are everything you said you would be, and probably more." The "probably" is really fucking funny to me

She mentions that they (collectively) didn't negotiate how much contact they planned to have after the birth and adoption, which I think is really funny and typical of my parents. She was thankful about it, but whatever amount of pictures and letters my parents sent (I get the sense not many--maybe 3? 4?) was evidently not ideal. Really, what a situation to be in. When DO you cut the cord there?

She attached some printouts of "special emotional needs" for adoptees. The very first: "I need parents who are skillful at meeting their own emotional needs so that I can grow up with healthy role models and be free to focus on my development". Lol. LMAO.

Another: "I may appear more whole than I actually am. I need your help to uncover the parts of myself that I keep hidden, so I can integrate all the elements of my identity." Oh buddy... MISSION FAILED!

some observations and more poignant parts:

It's really weird to think that she was younger than me when she wrote these.

I think there is a photo of her and the father, but I'm not sure if we were certain about him. She was seemingly going steady with him since they got engaged after I was born, and I do have similar eyebrows (for the record, one of my best features). But the resemblance is challenging to discern. Neither of them seem to have as prominent a nose as mine, that's an index original.

She was evidently into scrapbooking/stationery; several of the cards are handmade. Thick cardstock, fancy hole punches, embossing powder and delicate stickers. It's easy to imagine the process of them being made. You can kind of feel the love coming off them, or whatever.

She mentioned struggling to write a letter for me. It's somewhat reassuring because I also struggle to write letters for people. In the end I think the pictures and craftsmanship did much of the speaking for her. The letter is three sentences long.

In the "special emotional needs" pages, one also says, "I suffered a profound loss before I was adopted." I get frustrated when people assert adoption trauma at me without considering my circumstances. I dislike the sentiment that blood relations are less traumatic when I think that the family structure itself is traumatic. But I do have this strong sense that I was born into grief, and reading some of these pages (and sidestepping the multiple Christian-specific ones, damn you) provided some interesting reflection on that.

She apparently made a scrapbook for me, presumably including the pictures she received from my parents. I am quite curious about their letters. I guess if I reach out I could see, but it's difficult to know what to say. ...And I'm transgender.

lastly:

there's a photo of her the day after she had me, standing outside and smiling. she has what appears to be a cigarette in her hand. This is, I like to believe, the source of all the problems in my life.

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group C Round 2: #C1 vs #C2

#C1: Friendship over nostalgia for the past, and moving forward

#C2: High social anxiety girl has to befriend her whole class

Details and poll under the cut!

#C1: After the Rain (Koi wa Ameagari no You ni)

Summary:

Akira Tachibana, a reserved high school student and former track runner, has not been able to race the same as she used to since she experienced a severe foot injury. And although she is regarded as attractive by her classmates, she is not interested in the boys around school.

While working part-time at the Garden Cafe, Akira begins to develop feelings for the manager—a 45-year-old man named Masami Kondou—despite the large age gap. Kondou shows genuine concern and kindness toward the customers of his restaurant, which, while viewed by others as soft or weak, draws Akira to him. Spending time together at the restaurant, they grow closer, which only strengthens her feelings. Weighed down by these uncertain emotions, Akira finally resolves to confess, but what will be the result?

Alternatively: The main girl works at a diner and misses being able to run. Main guy is the boss at the diner and misses writing.

Propaganda:

It feels like a lot of folks didn’t give this a fair chance because they thought it would be an age gap romance, when it really is more about friendship between the MCs. Don’t be turned off by the opening. It’s cute, but all from MG’s POV. The art is pretty, and Aimer’s “Ref: rain” is one of my favourite songs now, besides it being a beautiful ending theme. Depending on how old you are, you might relate more with one MC over the other.

Trigger Warnings: One-sided age gap. Depending on your views, MC’s friendship with her boss could be uncomfortable

#C2: Hitori Bocchi’s ○○ Lifestyle (HitoriBocchi no MaruMaru Seikatsu)

Summary:

Many of us know what it is like to transition to a new school with few to no friends in a new environment, going through the arduous process of getting to know people again. Bocchi Hitori knows this struggle all too well, having just graduated from elementary school and thrown into middle school. Unfortunately, she suffers from extreme social anxiety: she faints when overwhelmed, vomits when nervous, and draws up ridiculously convoluted plans to avoid social contact. It does not help that her only friend from elementary school, Kai Yawara, will not be attending the same middle school as Bocchi. However, wanting to help her, Kai severs ties with Bocchi and promises to reconcile with her when she befriends all of her classmates in her new middle school class.

Even though Bocchi has no faith in herself, she is determined to be friends with Kai again. Summoning all of her courage, Bocchi takes on the daunting challenge of making friends with her entire class, starting with the delinquent-looking girl sitting in front of her…

Propaganda:

This is a fun and lighthearted show. Watch it if you need something cute to chill out! The art is cute and colorful, the music lively, and the animation fine enough.

As it's adapted from a four-panel gag manga, the story is simple and focuses on the various characters. They all have pun-based names related to their main personality trait, so they're easy to remember if you know some basic Japanese (Hitori Bocchi means all alone, for example). The girls are all adorable and fun in their own quirky ways, and I loved seeing the heroine doing her utmost best to overcome her fears -and other challenges- to befriend them in the hope of fulfilling her promise. That's the power of the Do-Your-Best Fairy! They all care for each other (despite some teasing) and help Bocchi with her monumental task, never pulling her down for her struggles but gently pushing her in the back when needed.

But most importantly, Hitori Bocchi is a very relatable character. As someone suffering the same trouble, I related a lot with Bocchi, from her silliest worries to her escalating panic and weird schemes in an attempt to prevent anything wrong. Anxiety is faithfully represented, mixed with the right amount of laughing to how far Bocchi can get to avoid fearful situations in her very cute ways. It feels good to see a character like me in a such positive light! The struggles are real and acknowledged, and it’s really moving to see our heroine overcome them little by little in a very humanizing way.

This series has become one of my comfort materials, and I come back to it when I need hope and inspiration in everyday social interactions! If you need one last thing to be convinced, listen to that most adorable and silly song that will give you the Power of Motivation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGoGwlNmZUQ 

Trigger Warnings: None.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how they’re presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.