#ultimately though i think this is much healthier than whatever the hell i was doing

[sootnuki]

sorry that art’s slowed down so much over the course of this year. the grind went extinct and now i spend all my free time playing minecraft and drawing random shit i’ll never post just because i feel like it. peace and love

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

sometime in this last week, or this week coming, my blog has turned/turns 10. god. a decade old. a whole ass chunk of my life i’ve spent on this hellsite. when i began on here, i was a kid. a lost, lonely, depressed and anxious 15/16 year old kid. a kid scared of her future. a kid confused about her future. what to do for uni. to change schools or not??? to do drama/acting at uni or english/philosophy or to move 8hrs away to another regional uni to “escape” her “washed up, dead end hometown” that was so typical of all the pop-punk music that she was listening to at the time.

she was a tad overdramatic, loud, “funny” (as described by her school friends) and terribly forgetful in regards to homework and school assignments. she was angry at the world, most especially the catholic school she was fucking sick and tired of attending. but she was convinced that since she was the so-called “funny girl”, that she simply couldn’t be depressed or anxious. she believed herself unloveable because she didn’t look like a weird mixture of hayley williams and emo-pop queen lights. but now, i no longer believe that i have to look like the women that i looked up to in the ~emo scene~. fuck beauty standards. i am loveable.

in the years since joining tumblr, i’ve managed to get through business college, my undergrad degree and, well, failed out of postgrad due to obvious burnout and health issues amongst other things. although i’ve lost many friends irl and many followers/mutuals online on here. for those who’ve stuck around to see me get through all of this, thank you. to all the friends/casual mutuals that have since deactivated or only followed me for a short time then unfollowed; thank you.

like obviously i was never/have never been a massive popular blog on here, like thebootydiaries or vampireapologist (who has since deactivated a couple of months ago) with tens of thousands of followers. my follower count is still close to the 8,000 range at 7,892. obviously that’s still a lot of people (and of course, porn bots lmao and many, many non-active blogs), enough like one super old post from like 2012 tumblr pointed out, enough for a small to medium sized city or town, or something like that. i don’t know how many people i’ve really reached. i really don’t know how i actually amassed this small army of people.

i am aware though, that on other platforms like snapchat (lmao does anyone even use it anymore in 2021???)/instagram/youtube/tiktok etc, i’d PROBABLY be considered as some type of ~micro influencer (🤮🤮)~. hell, i actually had a bot slide into my notes about being one on here on this hellsite back in 2019. i don’t know if i’ve ever actually ~influenced~ anyone on here with my shitposts (when i started making some) or my personal posts. i don’t know my reach. even though, now, i do occasionally get featured on buzzfeed listicles (although pay me buzzfeed along with the OPs of those original embedded posts), i still don’t know how many people i’ve reached… and even with my very occasional checks of google analytics lmao. on top of this, grappling with the loss of followers at times is much, much easier than it was when i began on here and the first few years following that. i know that my follower count doesn’t determine my worth and stuff.

but over these 10 years, i have grown. i turn 26 this year. back in 2011, 15/16yo me never thought she’d be here. she was partially down the suicidal thoughts hole, with things about ~picturing her funeral and wondering who’d bother to turn up. if only she could pretend to be dead for a day to see who’d give a fuck~ and 16-18yo me was defs down it with her HSC hellscape thoughts in 2012/2013. that 3rd floor tafe/tech women’s bathroom window drop and the thought of scarring her class for life (and that cool dude from catholic school that she crushed on who ended up at tafe with her) with jumping out of it onto the concrete below. instead, she just posted on fb about ~being a failure~ etc which ultimately did lose her a bunch of facebook friends lmao. it was practically the same thing. her mental breakdown after the end of her hsc, where she let her earrings go green and get infected in her ears because “fuck self care, bc what the fuck is it??? i’ll never get better! let me fucking wallow in my self loathing bc it’s the only thing that i’m fucking good at!!!” so i no longer have my ears pierced. oh! it was just all too fucking much!!

i am happier today. i no longer have those semi-suicidal thoughts. hell, i almost died in 2020 from a fucking bowel aneurysm, after my stomach tumour excision surgery. that forced me to put things into perspective. i appreciate the little things . i appreciate the very few friends that i actually have. yes. i’m still depressed and anxious. some days are still shitty and hard. but nowhere as hard and shitty as they were back when i began on here 10 years ago.

how the fuck last 10 years have gone past, with my ass on here; clearing out my blog and caring more about doing that than my uni work (lmao whoops); having made some lifelong friends both internationally (from the US) and long distance domestically in australia, it’s been a long ride; i honestly have no fucking idea. obviously over these past 10 years, i’ve debated with myself over and over and over again whether i should delete/deactivate this account or not. would it make me healthier??? more than likely. but then when i have meltdowns or just inner ramblings i have to get out somewhere, where else to post??? on fb?? obvs not. it’s “attention seeking” or the like on there. no one will read them. no one will resonate. but on here??? even if i got/get one “like” in the notes or one “yo i feel this” response in the tags or replies, it feels like i’ve reached someone??? okay yeah. i know this place IS NOT therapy and i’m not using my followers as amateur (or probs even actual professional) armchair psychologists…. which is a thing i think people need to stop doing internet-wide: but that’s a whole other post that i reblogged a few days ago lmao. i really need to get another therapist, actually lmao.

but it’s the community i’ve found hard to leave. i have what feel like friends, when i’ve never been employed (still as of yet); and when all of my irl friends/acquaintances are working and doing the whole ~adulting~ and ~grown up life~ thing right. it’s also the frenzied rabidness of spite with hating staff’s godawful ideas. the memes. oh the memes. and also the RaWrInG 20s XD emo scene reemergence on here that’s kept me here. the messy petty drama from time to time of big blogs fighting it out.

this place really is bizarre and fun sometimes. and also the fact that i can still hide behind the ridiculous “roaring pikachu” URL that i made all those years ago. i am anonymous. it’s freeing. but on fb it’s all like “WHY WONT YOU ADD A BANNER IMAGE AND TELL US 20 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOU!!!!!???? LET PEOPLE WHO HAVENT SPOKEN TO YOU IN 10 YEARS KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!!” and the same goes for Corporate Hellscape Facebook™️ (linkedin) but in the professional sense instead. y’all know fuck all about me really. besides my posts. and i love that and live for that. okay yeah. y’all know more about my mental health than my fb feed obvs… which is probably a terribly unfortunate thing. but still.

over the last 10 years then, my superiority complex for being ~so original and intelligent~ or whatever the fuck i had in high school, has all but ebbed away. i’m not that smart just because i went to uni. hell, i literally did NONE of my in-class work and none of my philosophy readings in uni….. so i have fuck all idea of how i got through undergrad like that lmao. i’m not original when so many people can articulate the same thoughts that i have, but like, sometimes better, on a post (even though sometimes/most of the time the Tumblr User Hot Takes Tuesday™️ takes on here are fucking awful lmao). but still. originality is not something i really have anymore. or really had in the first place lmao.

so will i deactivate after these 10 years, like i’ve been saying for so, so long??? i honestly have no idea. but just know. thanks guise. have a nice gpoy selfie day XD. grab your wands. your tardises. grab your war paint. grab your whatever the fuck other fandom specific stuff that was one that hella cringe post from 2011 til 2015 random tumblr. that relic is as old as time itself. just as this mysterious roaring pikachu is for someone whose too loyal to leave this W E B B E D H E L L S I T E that’s just as much of a train wreck as she is. lmao.

[lavendertwilight89]

Far Away

Posted here on AO3!

No smoots today--maybe in another chapter depending on how this one is received?

Tag Wall:

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It was a long day after Kagome had emerged from the well. After Inuyasha and her embrace, they were almost immediately interrupted. The only words between them were them asking if she had kept him waiting and him asking what she had been doing during the time they were apart…

When they pulled apart, he wore a soft smile of contentment. He hadn’t complained or even shown embarrassment from their disruption. She found him at her side after she had run off to greet everyone. He was a silent shadow as they journeyed into the village with the others. 

Once they reached their town, everyone had to talk to her. EVERYONE. It was crazy! Not that she didn’t want to see her friends, their kids, Kaede, even Rin… But her mind was utterly consumed by the half-demon who pulled her up and out of the well. She had so much to say--so much to ask… even so many desires to be fulfilled.

His presence never left her; that at least helped her a little bit as they walked through the village together. He likely wanted to talk to her too. Afterall, it had been three long years since they had seen each other. Maybe he had things to say as well.

They met more strangers on their walk through the village. People Kagome probably should have paid more attention to--but the hanyou was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of him. Even though she could sense his youki, actually feel him by her, she couldn’t help but check to make sure he was still standing there. That it wasn’t a dream--that he, in fact, was physically present. Her hand often found his, to make sure this wasn’t some weird delirious psychotic break. That he was tangible and very real. She thanked all the Gods when his hand brushed and caressed against hers, sometimes even blessing her when their fingers would intertwine in return.

After the long afternoon of greeting people, saying hello to new and old faces, they found themselves sitting in Kaede’s hut, just like last night before her middle school graduation; she felt pure nostalgia. It was just like old times. Sango, Miroku, Shippo, Kaede, and Inuyasha along with Rin and of course the twin girls and baby boy. While the feeling of the familiarity comforted her, she was also hurt--their lives had kept on going. It wasn’t like when she would go into the well to restock on supplies for their travels or if she had to go take a test at school; they hadn’t just stayed at the village awaiting her to return to restart their mission. This time they had kept on living and growing. Because she wasn’t there--and they likely thought she’d never return. 

Kagome couldn’t fault them for that, nor could she hold envious or jealous feelings towards them. If anything she was hurt; hurt that she had to even pause her life with them in the first place. That she had just pushed through trying to finish school. She was more or less forced to move on because the well wouldn’t work. Or rather try to keep living her life in her own era. Obviously that hadn’t worked. Nor did she want it to, for that matter. She had fought like hell and managed to get back there.

But it felt like there was so much time lost. There were three years between who they once were and who they were now. Were things still the same for her friends? Was she still family? Did they still see her as an important part of their group? Or was she pushing herself into a place where she no longer belonged? Like she had forced herself into doing back in her own era…

She became a broken puzzle piece--something that never quite fit but almost did. What was depressing about everything is that no one seemed to notice. Well, everyone but her mom. Sadly her mom couldn’t take the pain of the loneliness away. The feeling of being a misfit--not belonging without everyone else, knowing only made her feelings of isolation worse.

Were things still the same with Inuyasha? If she had stayed would she and Inuyasha--would they have a hut? Would they have children? Or at least a child? Would they have continued traveling? Would they have-- claws danced on her wrist and she locked eyes with amber hues of concern. She smiled softly and shook her head but took his hand, firmly erasing the negative thoughts that had begun to consume her.

It wouldn’t have been the first time she allowed that to happen. The separation had been hard on her. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually… even physically. Seeing that they had moved on made her happy. It meant they didn’t go through what she did--not really.

But Inuyasha seemed to be able to show her it was possible he left his life open to her with just the single press of his hand. It was funny how they were always so bad at communicating, yet somehow, one look and touch, she knew exactly what he was saying. Or at least she hoped.  

“So Kagome, do you intend to stay here with us tonight? Or will you be traveling back to your time?” Miroku asked as he bounced his son on his lap.

“Huh? Oh… Uhm. Well--the thing is--ah…” Why was she so nervous? Was she already having doubts about where she belonged?? No. This was her home. They were her friends--they just spent all day with her for goodness sakes! They could have very well allowed her to walk about the village all on her own but they escorted her the whole way. Why was she being so insecure about all of that?! “I think it was a one-way trip.”

Gasps filled the hut and all went silent. Well… that was awkward. She began nibbling at her bottom lip when Inuyasha pulled her chin to face him directly. He gazed at her in disbelief and awe.

“You really mean it Kagome?!!” Shippo shouted from in front of her, gaining her attention and stealing whatever words Inuyasha was about to say as he dropped her chin much to her disappointment.

“It’s--something I’m not going to test, actually.”

“Kagome--that’s wonderful!” Sango cheered standing and hugging her tightly.

“We have all missed you, Kagome,” Miroku said fondly. “Some more than others,” his voice dipped as it laced itself with playfulness leading to the smirk she saw adorning his face.

“Ye are more than welcome to sleep here child, or there is a spare hut ye can more than happily claim at the edge of the village until we can have one fashioned for ye,” Kaede suggested

“Really?” Kagome said in wonderment. They were really--that excited and happy to have her back?

“You’re also more than welcome to join us--we have a large hut and a spare room currently,” Sango offered.

“Th-thank you. I’ll take some time this evening to decide,” she mumbled. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so out of place? It was just like--no. She belonged HERE. That’s why she came back. 

“Kagome,” Inuyasha said. She looked into his imploring eyes and nodded at the unspoken question.

“We’re going to take a walk,” she informed everyone; said information earned them smirks and giggles. Kagome blushed but rolled her eyes as she took Inuyasha's hand while they left the hut together.

They walked in companionable silence until they reached their ultimate destination--the sacred tree. Everything always led back to there. It was where they first met, where she released him from his imprisonment, where he got his kotodama, where she had seen him with Kikyo and thought there was no room in his life or heart for her, where she realized she loved him, where he refused to abandon her even when she was possessed, where he told her he needed her by her side, where they spent long lazy afternoons… This place meant everything to them. 

She idly ran her hand against the trunk and hummed happily from the sensation. It was thicker and healthier than the one that stood in her time. But it was like she could still feel where her family was--and the ultimate realization she was there--with him.

Turning back, she looked into his beautiful golden eyes that lit up her heart. She had been so afraid she’d never see them again but here she was, standing before him, the sky pink, purple, and orange from the sunset, the brisk cool air of night flowing around them.

And she had no idea what to say. She had rehearsed everything so long--when the well would finally open and she’d be able to tell him exactly how she felt, what she wanted, how she would put it all on the line for him--but standing there in that moment, she froze. Was it fear that stalled her? Uncertainty? Probably a little of both. 

Three years hadn’t necessarily aged her friends in a bad way--but it did give them families and new focuses. What if he had a new one as well? Doubt seemed to eat away at her for no real reason. But she was older than she was when she left; she had felt so secure right before time ripped them apart. Now… she questioned her place.

Not that she would have regretted coming back and not like she totally expected everything to be the same as when she left but… she just felt so far away from the girl she had been at fifteen.

“Inu--”

“You came back.”

“What?” The way his words brushed against her, the whisper of his words… They hurt her. Not like he had meant to hurt her, no. It pained her to hear the longing and desperation in his confession. His admission of her being in such close proximity he too, felt it was unreal.

"You're… really here. This isn't some weird convoluted dream I made up--I’m not dead---I--” It slightly comforted her he was just as at a loss for words as she was.

She stepped closer to him and released his hand; she really looked at him. How had she not even seen the differences when she had seen him in the golden rays of sunlight? Why just now, in the hues of red?

He looked older, more mature, softer… his face no longer wore a permanent scowl. It showed understanding, longing...love. Her heart skipped a beat and began beating erratically. She was nervous, happy--elated that she finally found somewhere to belong. Someone she could belong to. And of course she started crying. Because why wouldn’t she ruin the moment? She was a fool to think she could ever make something perfect--

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest. “Fuck--shit--what did I say?? Did I fuck this up??”

She let out a choked sob and clung to his arms, “N-No--I-I’m sc-screwing this u-up!”

“Not even possible. You’re here… You’re the one making this reality.”

Her legs gave out as she wept into his chest. She was so pathetic letting herself get so caught up in her head and self doubt that she was making this reunion a shit-show. Shockingly she had thought somehow he would have said something stupid and she would have had to be the one to brush it off and reassure him. But no. It was her. Three years obviously switched their roles; but would he honestly be okay with being the emotionally stable one?

He held her up without question or further comment until she was done. She hadn’t even noticed they were sitting on the larger roots of the tree until she lifted her head and saw their position.

"I'm sorry," she said sadly--embarrassed of her actions and display.

“Don’t be. I’d take your tears over your absence,” he whispered softly into her hair making her flinch. She knew how much he hated when she cried. 

“I--I missed you,” she started lamely. Missing him didn’t actually articulate half of how she felt. But she also didn’t want to scare him off. Maybe he’d want to take things slow… after all, they had only just kissed when she was ripped from him.

He had just lost Kikyo and yea, she knew she held a place within his heart but… but therein lied her insecurities. While she had returned, while she dreamt of that moment over and over--standing there in the moment, she was terrified to hear that she was just a replacement. Even though he never treated her as such, at least not that she saw, the anxiety still was deep within her heart.

Every fear, every dark thought she had about herself was festering and threatening to spew from her lips. Those three years broke her. She knew that they had both grown, obviously. But…did that mean everything would change? Or could they possibly pick up where they left off? 

But that also meant they had to ask, where did they leave everything. They shared a kiss. He swore to protect her with his life, not that he hadn’t already been doing that anyway but, where did that leave them?

Were they together? Would they court like a normal couple? Or would they… get married? 

“Kagome. I can’t--” He shifted so that he could look into her likely puffy eyes. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I… Fuck. I’m not good at this shit.”

“It’s okay…” She sighed. 

“No. Kagome-- I--I went to the well. Every three days. Just to see if there would be some fluke, to see if you had returned. I knew you were safe with your family. There were others who needed you; there were others that loved you. I made peace with you never returning. The fact you were safe and loved was enough for me. But you’re-- you’re back.”

“Yes. I’m back,” she confirmed.

“Do you know what--what that means?” His eyes were glazed over with an unrecognized emotion she had never seen. Not even with Kikyo.

“I--I--” She stuttered, unable to come up with words. “I--don’t?”

“No?” He rumbled.

“N-no. I--don’t want to say something that may be untrue. Or overthink anything. I--don’t want my hopes to be dashed,” she said as she realized she was unconsciously licking her lips in anticipation of his heated gaze.

“Yea, guess I deserve that,” he muttered, closing his eyes and exhaling. His forehead pressed to hers.

“No! No! This isn’t--damn--” Again, here she was ruining everything about this moment. She grabbed his cheeks and tried to get him to look at her.

“Kagome, I know I was a jerk. An asshole. I just--it’s hard for me to be honest about my feelings,” he admitted as he opened his beautiful golden eyes. “But I want to. For you.”

Her breath hitched and she probably was the same shade of his haori. Her heart raced rapidly in her chest as he pulled away slightly. She didn’t even stop the whine from the lost contact regardless that she was still within his arms in his lap. “Inuyasha--”

“Kagome, I never, I couldn’t stop thinking about ya. Yea, I was kinda emotionally stunted when we traveled together. But I had just literally got my heart trampled on--when even then I was willing to give up half of myself to be with the other person. Yea, it was all deceit and fuck--I don’t know what would have happened if it had come to pass and I used the jewel to become human; who knows if it would have actually worked or not. But I do know, as shitty as it sounds, That I’m kinda glad that’s not how it all played out. I--I’m grateful we met. I'm thankful you gave me a chance when I didn’t deserve one. That you loved me in spite of all that I am and do.”

“Inuyasha…”

“I know three years have passed. I know you came back, no way back home… And as selfish as it is, I really fucking hope it was to be with me. Yea, our friends are great and all but--I want you. All of you. Your time, your presence, your attention… everything.”

“E-Everything?” She echoed in awe.

“Only if that’s what you want… But for me, nothing has changed.”

“Nothing?” She couldn’t help but let the disappointment drip in her voice. 

“What I meant was--my feelings for you--they haven’t changed. You’re--fuck--I’m--why the fuck is this so hard?!” He growled in annoyance. She couldn’t help but sob lightly with laughter. He was the same at heart. He was still her gruff hanyou.

“Because it’s us. We always were bad at communicating. These three years… I can’t imagine what it was like for you. I know it’s so selfish of me to even say any of this--but I know how you felt. Or at least, I think anyway.”

“You are the least selfish person I know, Kagome. I’m probably the most self-centered out of our little ‘team’.”

“But you had reasons for that Inuyasha. I don’t. Not really. I just--the well--I didn’t appreciate what I had here until it was too late. You all are my family. And yes, I needed to go home and finish school for my family. But--I just. I’m sorry,” she started crying again uncontrollably.

His arms wrapped tightly around her and tucked her head under his chin as he let out a soothing rumble from his chest that could have put her to sleep on the spot. But they had so much to talk about. So much she had to say still. 

“Don’t be fucking sorry. I’m the one who tried to keep you from that life and why you ended up having to stay here in the first place--”

She pulled away and cut him off placing a hand over his mouth, “--but I don’t regret that. Ever. Falling down the well, destroying the arrow, traveling with you… I--I was so happy I could be your first real friend. That I could bring others to you to trust; a person who made you realize you didn’t have to be alone.”

“You’re right. Inside the jewel--I realized you were the only reason I have friends, friends I can rely on and trust. Without you, I don’t know where I would have ended up. I don’t want to know. I just know--I just know I’m where I am meant to be. Kagome, you were born for me and I was born for you. Not Kikyo. No one else but you. I’m sorry I ever made you ever feel second to her. It was never--it wasn’t like that.

“She and I never trusted each other. The moment Menomaru possessed you--I knew it wasn’t you. But with Kikyo… I didn’t even think about how her scent didn’t match. I didn’t question why she had betrayed me. But you and I--I just knew. Same with Tsubaki. There was no doubt in my heart. Yea, I was fucking confused and hurt--but more at the fact they would use you like that.

“When she was brought back--I was confused. But I never had any intention of leaving your side. Well, until you saw us together and the look in your eyes… it broke me. I knew I couldn’t put you through that. It wasn’t fair to you to know that I wanted to protect Kikyo. That I still cared about her even though I… I really cared about you. 

“But you still put me first. I honestly can’t say I would have done the same because I’m a selfish bastard. I finally did and of course, it looks like it not only fucked me, but also broke you,” he added as he proceeded to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

“I didn’t belong in that era anymore. Not when my heart was here--with you,” she admitted as she brushed her hand over his heart. He clasped it tightly and exhaled.

“You’ve always had mine--even before I knew it. And it will always be yours.”

She didn’t even try to stop herself from raising up and kissing him fiercely. He returned the pressure just as fervently and held her close. Their kisses remained chaste, but with clear intent of promises of love and commitment. When they finally parted they were breathless and smiling. He kissed the top of her forehead and tucked it back under his chin.

“So… you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to this whole time, stupid?” He asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” she laughed, feeling like a thousand kilos had been lifted from her.

“Keh, sounds about right. Nothing,” he smirked.

Rolling her eyes she lightly swatted him and he chuckled deeply. They continued their conversation of what they had been up to for the past three years, how they both coped with their loneliness, things they did to pass the time--then proceeded to plan their future. A hut they would build. Marriage. Mating. Everything.

“I--I want to court you. Like I should--and don’t fucking argue with me. It’s something I want. You don’t have to want it but it’s gonna happen. And then--then we can go to the headmen and marry us or whatever.”

“Tell me about Sango and Miroku’s wedding.”

“Not much to tell really. They did it with the celebration of Naraku being vanquished. Didn’t want the spotlight. They were just ready to be married and done.”

“I--do you think we can have something small?”

“Keh--not as the village priestess or protector.”

“It won’t be too much for you?”

“Fuck no. I just want to be married to you. If I had to kill my asshole brother to wed you, I’d do it.” His words caused her to giggle in response. 

“So…” She blushed, feeling slightly nervous at the idea of them maybe exploring more intimate things. Not that she wasn’t ready. But she wasn’t sure--

“What part of ‘I want to court you’ slipped out of your ding-bat head? Even if you wanted to--which I can tell you don’t at the moment-- I’d say no.”

“But--”

“Not yet. But we’ll get there because I’m going to prove to you I’m worthy of you.” Gods. His fiery burning golden eyes literally sent waves of heat through her.

“O-Ok,” she agreed without a fight. It was probably wise they dated before they actually mated. It was a ‘forever’ kind of thing. Not a ‘oh yea, let’s have sex and then go our seperate ways’ proposition. Not that she had any doubts about being with him forever. She left her childhood home, her family, her school friends she had grown up with to be here. With him. If he wanted to ‘prove’ to her he was what she was looking for, she’d let him until he was confident they were ready.

They ended their evening with another passion filled kiss under their favorite tree and walked back to Kaede’s hand in hand. They’d tell the others in the morning. Until then, they relish in their time they had together again.

[asagi-s-garden]

It’s time for Dumb Headcanons-

For whatever reason, Kara is the one to carry her and Lena’s first born child, she can’t just vanish for almost a year without saying anything though, I mean what kind of hero would do that?

So she makes a public announcement right after officially finding out that she’s pregnant that she’s “going away for a few months on a personal journey”

Now the thing is, Lena knows her wife, she knows her very well, and she knows that her watching from the sidelines as Alex and the others keep the city safe is going to be incredibly painfull for her, so she decides to take Kara on a vacation for the first few months of pregnancy

Once they get around the second trimester they’re going to have to go into seclusion in a special fortress that Clark and Kate built for her that’s like half Fortress Of Solitude and half Batcave that’s structured to both keep enemies out, and keep Kara in, because they know their girl as well as Lena does (Alex tunes in from skype from time to time to tell them what they’ve done wrong specifically because she knows how crafty Kara is and is just “mmm nope you see that little crack in that wall right there? Yeah she could get through that, I don’t know how, but she could”) Ofcourse freinds and family are welcome to visit because it’d just be cruel otherwise but anyway

Lena knows Kara, she knows that staying cooped up in one place for 5-6 months is going to be hell enough as it is, the full extent of her pregnancy would be a NIGHTMARE, but she also is a little afraid to stay in National City during the first 3-4 months because that would equally be disasterous on Kara’s mental health, seeing shit go down and not being able to help, so she decides to take them on vacation instead, to some of the most peacefull places on Earth, like the New Zealand countryside and a small town in Switzerland and a tiny island that she may possibly own, it seems like a solid plan to begin with, until....

Proof That Lena Luthor Is Supergirl

That’s the headline that starts popping up about four days after they leave and it’s just everywhere, conspiracy theories that Lena is Supergirl because she “vanished“ at the same time that Supergirl left

Kara thinks it’s hilarious, it’s the best laugh she’s had in a week and that’s saying something considering how much time she’s spent watching cute cat videos on the private jet

They have to cut their vacation short so Lena can go back to National City every few weeks, show her face for a few days, and then leave again

Everyone starts making it into an inside joke that they have to be very carefull not to share outside of The Circle of those in the know because otherwise something might slip, Brainy in particular thinks it’s bizarre that Kara just keeps getting more pregnant everytime she comes back and yet somehow no one has tried to pin Lena’s wife, who’s pregnant, as the superhero who has to mysteriously vanish for nine months (because against her better instincts Kara does mention at the press conference that she’ll be returning in June, wich is about nine months from when she announces her departure, somehow no one has picked up on it, until they start with the Lena theory and go “AND HER WIFE IS PREGNANT AND DUE IN JUNE, COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT-” evidently they’ve decided that Lena is leaving because Kara is pregnant, wich isn’t wrong, but still somehow off)

By the time baby Kira Zor El Luthor is born (they made the conscious decision to break from the ���L” tradition in Lena’s family only to end up with the “K” tradition in Kara’s completely by accident; their second born will be named Luka and Alex is going to headdesk so hard she bruises) half of National City has started to believe that Lena is Supergirl, somehow, and she and Kara- as Supergirl- have to actually appear together in public and shake hands with people to prove neither one is a hologram before anyone lets the theory die

Other less cohesive headcanons about this insanity-

-Kara insists that she take care of Kira when she wakes up in the middle of the night because to be 100% honest sleep is a luxury, not a necessity, for her- that’s not even being careless with herself, that’s just.... a legitimate fact... she doesn’t really HAVE to sleep very much as long as she’s under the yellow sun so why on earth should she deprive Lena of it???

Lena: Really, it’s ok, I’ve had a lifetime of being denied sleep so at this point I can actually function with out it :)

Kara: That.... that in absolutely no way makes me feel better...... also I have super hearing so I’ll hear her first anyway, there’s no need to wait for you to wake up..

Lena: Oh no that’s fine, I’m hypervigilant and paranoid so I’ll wake up as soon as she starts crying, no superpowers required! :)

Kara: That just makes me feel even worse?????? B-Besides I have a Kryptonian lullaby I can sing to her that works like a charm

Lena: Oh that’s so lovely, I have an old Irish lullaby my mother taught me right before she died that I can’t wait to sing to Kira as the literal only good thing that comes from my family legacy :)

Kara, near tears: ...Have I done something to you today????? ;_;

Lena: ...no?? why???

-The amount of food they go through during Kara’s pregnancy probably could have sustained a small country for atleast a month, it doesn’t seem to matter how much Lena thinks she’s stocking up ahead of time, it’s never enough and she inevitably always has to buy more the very next day, it takes the combined efforts of Barry and Kate to help keep things stocked so Lena isn’t having to constantly be leaving the Bat Fortress (it was the name Kate and Clark finally decided on and no one has the right to veto it no matter how much certain people want to) to restock, they start this Superhero Delivery Service as a Bros Being Bros type of thing, just freinds being freinds and loving their pregnant super freind so very much but after a week it turns into a ruthless competition of what, ultimately, is the better resource- speed or money, Barry has the Speed Force but Kate has every method of transportation imaginable and also drones and by the time Kira is born a rivalry has slowly simmered between them, the likes of wich goes right back to the type of “Who’s faster?” rivalry Barry has with the Supers, that probably won’t end even after they both die, Kara has mixed feelings about being the inadvertent catalyst for this but Nia thinks it’s the best thing that’s ever happened and she and Mary are placing bets

-Lena knows that Kryptonians don’t exactly have the same health issues to worry about that humans do but Kira is going to be atleast part human isn’t she? So Kara has to be willing to step up her health game wile she’s pregnant right??? Nice theory, no dice, Alex tried to warn her but Lena Luthor doesn’t lose and when she wants something she gets it................ unless that something is getting Kara to have a healthier diet, then there’s no force on any planet in any universe that can help

Lena: An apple

Kara: A dozen doughnuts

Lena: One apple

Kara:  ...Sixteen doughnuts

Lena: *gently places an apple on the table*

Kara: ....*stares intensely at the box of doughnuts, unblinking*

Lena: ....What are you doing?

Kara: I wonder if I try hard enough if I can develop telekinesis

Lena: No-

-True panic is Lena taking care of Kira at the office wile Kara is off doing the superheroing for the first time in months (nanny? nope, not in this house, the child never leaves our sight, we die like moms) and Kira starts giggling and levitates out of her bassinet wile Lena is on a conference call so her investors are met with a frantic Lena keeping her voice astoundingly level and clear wile running around the office chasing her floating baby, they mostly just get glimpses of her jacket from time to time and, if they ask, are only met with “I have a child now” and absolutely no other explanation

-For the first time since being on Earth Kara is faced with the cosmic joke that is Earth’s gravity during her late months of pregnancy because everything is wobbly and waddly and holy RAO HOW IS IT SO HARD JUST TO GET OFF OF THE FLOOR!?!?! SHE COULD FLY TWO MONTHS AGO AND NOW IT’S A MAJOR STRUGGLE TO PULL HERSELF OFF OF THE COUCH WHAT THE FUCK!?

-Kate has managed to live through four years of having actual freinds who have started to reproduce and never once has she reacted with more than marginally more interested than what she had during Crisis when Kara tried to hand Jon to her, but in those four years all of those freinds have been straight, to be fair, and there’s something a little different about seeing other lesbians with babies that’s mildly more tolerable, first it was Alex and Kelley, then it was Kara and Lena, Sophie and Mary keep cooing over the babies and Kate doesn’t really get that........ until she’s visiting Kara and an alien attacks and Kara is just “hold my baby-” and flies out the window and Kate is Stuck with a sleeping four-month-old and no ability to get to a phone without waking Kira up so she’s just kind of frozen like that for the foreseeable future and when Kara comes back Kate is laying on the couch, Kira sleeping on her chest, looking incredibly relaxed

Kate: Oh you’re back, we’ve had a lovely time

Kara: Awwwwwwwww, see? You are good with babies <3

Kate: Mmmm still going to have to disagree on that but your’s is... not... bad...

Kara: Sooooooo you’ll babysit sometime? :3

Kate: Nope, this last half hour was enough thanks

Kara: Wait until Sophie hears you lasted an entire half hour ;)

Kate: Just hold off telling her for about fifteen years or so, I don’t think we’re ready to live in a world where I can tolerate this for an entire thirty minutes yet

Kara: lol ok

Years later when she eventually ends up taking after her cousin and having a couple of orphans with her name on them she insists to Sophie that it’s Kara’s fault because “that time she made me hold her kid for half an hour did something to me I just know it”, Kara pops in one day after hearing this and just goes “You’re welcome~” before flying off again

And finally-

Kara: Lena honey I think Kira is a little too young to be getting her first suit tailored...

Lena: But she’s already a year old...???

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG|M|JIMIN|3|

SMUT/ANGST

***While out at a bar…one of Jimin’s “customers” finds out the hard way that he’s not one to be fucked with! And you find out he looks reallyyyy hot when he’s angry! Like..let’s have sex in the bathroom hot***

-JIMIN’S YOUR PLUG…AND HE’S KIDNA BECOMING YOUR MANS!

The OC is finally getting to see him in his...element...but can she handle it?

Dark haired Jimin has arrived…

The OC is officially his baby, he’s soo damn soft for her

Jimin’s smooth and fine AF and he knows it

Tatted and pierced Jimin’

Slight cliffhanger.....

7k -

***This can be read as a stand-alone, without confusion but the topic of “TIM” which is discussed towards the end... Won’t have the same effect....until you go back to the previous chapter! ***

NOTE- I’m not sexualizing violence, what I AM saying is, yes it’s sexy when your partner can hold their own when provoked. Let’s be real nobody wants to see their man get his ass beat!

WARNINGS:Bathroom/ Public sex,Dom Jimin, Oral  I.E you let Jimin fuck your throat, then he goes down on you from the back, Dirty talk, Overstimulation, Light praise kink, Light daddy kink, Implied cumplay (it will make sense once you read it) A ton of teasing prior too soo ugh yeah, have at it!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you ladies mind if we join you?” The sound of his voice alone had you shifting in your seat, a slight arch curling up your spine, subtly crossing your legs, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. Well, isn't this a pleasant little surprise? Already well aware of who it was before you even turned around, there was only one person that could have this kind of effect on you without even seeing their damn face.

Trying to play it cool as your gaze fluttered to your left, eyeing him under your full set of lashes though you failed miserably! Once your eyes finally took him in, like..really took him in, it’s just...fuck it’s only been two days...since you’d seen him! Two fucking days man! Apparently, within those two days, Jimin decided to wake up and choose violence, and his main attack was apparently opting against being a bottle blonde. Obviously, you knew that wasn’t his natural color, I mean...duh, but that's the only one you've ever known when it comes to his appearance.

And if you thought that look was lethal apprently you aint seen shit yet..

Currently standing in front of you with an almost jet black mane of hair on his head, holding it’s usual slightly tousled look, a couple pieces falling in his face. Though you can’t even deny how much healthier it looks, full of volume, damn near a Panteene commercial at this point! The dark contrast only amplified his features especially his cherry-stained lips and caramel complexion. Bouncing against a barely buttoned leopard dress shirt and distressed black jeans, you had to give it to him, Jimin had style. He’s a subtle flexer if you will, far from the stereotype that probably pops in your mind when you think of your “Local plug” A little less gaudy monogram designer, and a little more... Urban Outfitter. He didn’t want you to look at him and just “know” who he was or what he did…

I’ll tell you one thing, there wasn’t a damn thing subtle about how hard you were staring, eyes undressing him from head to toe without even trying. A slight hiss leaving your lips in the process, the smirk on his face proved he was pleased..gazing back at you, eyes demanding your undivided attention which you gave effortlessly. Head cocked to the side as he appraises you, piercing teasing at the corner of his mouth as it runs along his bottom lip. 

“Hi” Lashes fluttering in there direction, Melissa’s delivery was strong enough for both of you and you didn't blame her, I mean fuck, you really couldn't! Not when he was standing in front of you looking like the whole damn menu and the dinner mint! He was also accompanied by an equally attractive slightly taller gentlemen, dark wavy hair, dressed in all black. Thankfully he seemed to be the one she was automatically drawn too, would've been kinda awkward if her eyes swayed in the other direction.

“This is Tae, and I’m Jimin…” Licking his lips slowly teeth grazing his bottom lip, eyes locked and loaded in your direction, this man just really wasn’t trying to give you room to breahe! Just permanently keeping his foot on your neck and there wasn’t shit you could do about it. Thankfully your already sitting, so he can’t tell your knees are knocking together. Though, you already knew the game you just walked into, almost feeling like an unintentional form of roll play if you will. As both of you decided to keep this very, very low key until you figured out what “This” actually is.

“Melissa..”

“Y/n..” Purred off your tongue, casually flipping your hair over your shoulder, cocking your head to the side slightly as you continued eye fucking the hell out of him. Let’s just say you were a little more than thankful that this was just a little “Game” and Jimin’s already going home with you tonight if you even let him make it that far. Thighs already humming, you’d be down to bend over the bartop right now to be honest, fuck before the nights over you just might.

A pleased little humm leaves his lips in response, eyes flickering down to your almost empty martini glass. Bracing his weight on the bartop, diaglog to yours, fingers gently grazing your arm.Blunt nails teasing against your skin in the process...

“Aye Kol,” Flicking his head twords the four of you, indicating he wanted the bartendrs attention. “Let me getttt..mmm” Whisitling absently filling the silence while he contemplates on his posion of choice. Though all your thinking about is how good his lips look pouted out like that, and the way they feel wrapped around your-

“Four shots of Don..add it to my tab... “ Eyes drifting away from the bartender, only to shamelessly let his gaze drop down to your breast which you currently sitting and on full display in your LBD. “You are absolutely stunning by the way…”  A slight smile tugging on his lips as he raked his fingers through his hair. Casually invading your space placing a thigh between your legs just enough for his cologne and body heat to slowly consume you. I swear your a second away from melting against your seat as we speak! There was just something about the current gleam that laced within those big puppy dog eyes of his that just had you melting in your seat.

You couldn't even help the giddy, almost nervous chuckle that left your lips at that, feeling almost uncomfortably flustered actually, finding it hard to even hold steady eye contact with the man before you. 

Jimin shakes his head absently “Fuck adorable” Rolls off his lips low and warm, more so for him than anyone else, though you heard and it instantly rips you right out of whatever little world you were just floating in. Smacking him in the chest playfully, eyes rolling with all the sass in the world which only has him smiling even wider. So fuckin fond it’s ridiculous! 

I guess becase in all actuality the two of you technically skipped this phase in a sense. So having Jimin walk up to you at a bar, smooth as can be, flirting as if it was his first time meeting you, as if he was trying to make a lasting impression, was one of the sexiest things he’s ever done.

Before you could even respond the drinks were placed in front of you,and these were the biggest “shot” glasses you’d ever seen but okay, pop off I guess. Nose burning from the smell alone, a second a way from growing chest hair.

 “Are we toasting to anything?” Your eyes snapped in his direction and holyshit, that was the first time you heard this Tae human speak and his voice did NOT match his face! Like at all...the deep baritone caught you completely off guard, and that was clearly all it took before Mel was damn near in his lap doubling over.

Jimin shrugged short and nonchalant, waving the class around as he speaks ”Shit why not..” Pausing so you could all raise your glasses “Here's to us having a damn good night” Eyes wandering in your direction, gaze dropping, right along with his voice...  “...with two beautiful women…” Yup, theres a slight chill moving up your spine.

“Ohhh” Eyes flickering between both men “The toast is in our honor? Aren't you charming” Mel bit back playfully, something a little wicked playing within her iris which earned a quick wink from Jimin. Leaning in to click your glasses together,taking it straight to the head and instantly regretting the shot all in one gulp! Chest burning slightly once it slid down your throat, you watched Jimin bite into the lime with a smirk, clearly liquor was equivalent to water when it comes to him. He didn't even flinch, just as you were about to grab yours he grabbed your jaw, holding it ajar as he slid his tongue into your mouth. Letting the two of you volley the tiny piece of lime against your tongues before he ultimately ended up swallowing it. A slight moan leaving your chest as you relaxed into him the bitterness of the lime and tequila melting along his tongue.

Before you even knew it, your hands are hangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, he was pulling a way and you were damn near chasing after him. “God I can’t wait to take you home…” Slurred off his tongue, never fully pulling away from you..the admission ripped a smile from your lips.

“Who's to say I’m going home with you?” Eyes heady and full of mirth as you rake your nails down his neck “We just met sir…” Breaking away from the kiss, reclining in your seat,lashes fluttering up at him far to innocently for overall motive. Coly teasing the pointe of your stiletto up his inner thigh and the level of smugness that curled up his face let you know you really didn't wanna hear a damn thing he had to say.

Leaning down so his lips were brushing over yours, halting your motion, with a  hand firm around your thigh, spreading them apart slightlu. Teasing towards your heat which you know actualy feels like heat because your currently sitting here clenching around fucking imagination as his hands briuse against your skin. Fingers trickling up twiards the edge of your panties, toying ith the lace,and it took every once of self contraol not to grind into his hand. Not that  You already knew he got what he wanted, you were already wet … question answered! Brow arched arrogantly, pulling back signaling for you to hop off the barstool.

Casually dusting his tongue over his fingertips though you know in all actuality theres nothin there...but fuck man!

“That’s, how I know your going wherever the fuck I want you too…” Grabbing your hand to pull you in front of him before letting his hands find their home on your waist. Leaning don to pres another firm kiss along your lips. Now that ”Introductions” Where out of the way, Jimin didn't need to censor himself anymore. Realistically if you really had just met..this is the perfect setting for the two of you to be all over each other with no questions asked. “

“Aye Tae” flicking his head to the side slightly gesturing he wanted them to leave, Jimin lead the way..guiding your hips where he wanted you to go.

“Sooo, is this the part where you actually do something about the current situation you caused between my thighs orr”  Tilting your head up so your lips brushed against his ear, nipping the lobe between your teeth, the bite wasn’t the most playful to be honest, he sensed how impatient you already where. Not that he cared, Jimin loved getting you riled up, needy, begging...all the things you hate because you HATE to be teased.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, hands stroking up your sides, nosing at the rook of your neck “Not yet baby...daddy still has some business to handle first…” Fingers trickling down your forearm before intertwining your fingers, leading you through the sea of people. 

Business? What kinda business are you handling at Orleans on a Thursday night? You knew better than to ask, so you just conuntied walking. You weren’t expecting to see him until close to midnight. if you even saw him at all so just his presence alone was welcomed, sexual or not!  

Jimin lead the four of you to this area in the back of the bar, it was tucked into a niche within the wall, you’d noticed it before typically reserved for private parties. Once you enter you see about 10 people spread out around the black leather couches, a couple bottles sitting in the middle. The majority of them were girls, as expected but that’s when you realize you've seen this group of guys around before..with Jimin actually. Eight months ago at Jhonnys wasn't the first time you’d ever seen him it was just the first time the two of you actually spoke. Considering these faces were very familiar you couldn't help but wonder if two of them where Yoongi and Namjoon, especially considering the way they looked at you. As if they knew you weren’t just some random chick from the bar that Jimin planned to take home for a one night stand! A combination of a smile and a smirk tugged on there lips as you walked past.

“Business” Is exactly what this was though...a business outing if you will, Jimin was here for a reason, more than just drinks and domb brick oven pizzas! Since he lives almost 40 minutes away from where it appears he does most of his business which is probably intentional and really smart actually. Once or twice a month to cut down on the commute he stays stationary in a public..crowded place, like a bar or a club...and make himself accessible to his regulars. That’s also the reason he’s not alone..why he has backup if need be!

Giving daps to a couple of the guys sitting around, you noticed the way some of the girls attempted to size you up. Not that you gave less than a damn, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you swayed in Jimin direction. Little did you know they all took turns throwing themselves at him one by one  and he respectfully declined...nothing but salt dusting along there face.

Letting your hips get lost in the music as a mix of “LUV” By Tory Lanze came on...dancing your way back to him, eyes trailing you before head to toe. “Come’re” Biting down on his bottom lip as he signaled for you to follow him as he walked backwards. Actually he swayed backwards, body rolling effortlessly against the beat, luring you away from the group.  Leading you towards the back of the room until he was happy with the amount of ‘Privacy” the two of you had, pulling your waist against his, until your lashes were almost touching. Eyes leveled, while both of you found the rhythm of the song. One thing you knew for damn sure is Jimin could dance, and he danced just as smooth as he fucked! You found that out the first night you met him, in a setting very similar to this actually, pressed against one another in the back of a bar, grinding the night away.

He was a smooth, effortlessly sexy.. he knew how to grind against you without just slamming his hips into you, like he was playing bumper cars! The dim lighting in the bar only added to the overall aesthetic. Adding the perfect glow to both of your skin, making you look even more alluring than usual..almost mysterious the way the lights hit your features.  Brining your hands up to caress the back of his neck, eyes prying into Jimin’s merrsically as you rolled your hips with the beat. Effortlessly matching your rhythm with his hips as they swayed along with yours, letting you take the lead for now. Lips purposely ghosting over yours, refusing to give you what you needed..just enough to drive you insane.

Jimin’s hands were itching to get closer to you, soothing them down to take a possessive hold on the curve of your ass. Tiling your lips up to ease at his ear ”I need to feel you closer than that…” Purred off your tongue while your nails clawed at his scalp. Not even bothering to respond, grabbing your wrist to spin you around so your back was flesh against his chest..ass at perfect height to grind against his hips. Resting your head on his shoulder, gaze slightly hazy, caressing the back of his neck in one hand. Lips trickling up the side of his neck “You look really sexy tonight by the way…” left your lips in nothing but a moan. Pushing your ass back to grind into him even deeper, Jimin's hands taking a firm grip on your waist,

Now it was his turn to be in control.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re practically fucking me right now?” Breath hot and heady against your skin “ You’d let me have you right here wouldn't you?” An all-knowing chuckle rattled through his chest, fingers teasing the hem of your dress, edging it further and further up your waist “ You’d let me do whatever I wanted to you..” Nipping at your ear, guiding your hips to match the deep waves of his, lips panting into the side of your neck.

A low whine leaving your throat, eyes fluttering shut “You already know I would…..fuck your so hard right now…” You could literally feel his dick pressing into your ass, the imprint was so strong you almost questioned if he actually whipped it out! Slipping your hand between the two of you, cupping him in your palm until you were satisfied with the slight whimper that left his throat.  “Thatt’a boy..”

The two of you carried on like that even into the next song,,breathing each other in, hands gripping onto any and everything they could reach. Jimin started whispering in your ear , everything he wanted to do to you tonight everything he was going to do to you tonight, and at that point it was game over! Your entire body was aching for him, one more deep roll of the hips was all it took to snag his last ounce of self control. Swinging you around so your back was flush with the wall “Jimin fuckk-please..” Whined from your lips and you weren’t even sure what you were asking for...were you asking for him to fuck you!? NOW!? In the back of a VIP room..hell yeah you were, a second away from begging for it actually...until

“Tae-TAE! Aye...come’re man, come look at this shit!”

The words, more importantly, the delivery had Jimin halting momentarily, it was actually scary how quickly he could switch gears. While you were left totally breathless and a little confused as he pried his eyes from yours letting them flutter over his shoulder. Observing the way the younger slid Melissa off his lap so he could see what was going on. The voice flooded from behind the set of deep red curtains which acted as the “door” if you will.  Letting your hands smooth up his back, naturally you find yourself intrigued by the situation just as much as Jimin.

“Who is that by the way ” Eyes flickering in the tallers direction observing the way he actually almost appears to be arguing with whoever he’s talking too.

A slight smirk tugging on Jimin’s lips as he brought his focus back to you, caging your body between his and the wall with one deep roll of the hips. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. In an attempt to distract you as he knew you wouldn’t like his response. Trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, teasing your skin with the cool metal of his piercing until he pulled a restrained moan from your throat. “Just… one of my boys baby…”

His very VERY vague response triggered an exasperated huff to leave from your chest eyes rolling to the back of your head. This only made Jimin chuckle unbothered as ever, as he continued trailing kisses up the side of your neck.

“Listen, when it comes to my feelings I’m an open book, whatever you want from me you can have.” Pausing slightly smiling at how adorably bratty you looked, a slight pout moving up your face.Flicking at your bottom lip with his thumb, soothing over the soft skin. 

“Buttt, when it comes to my business…” Brow tilited in your direction “For your safety as much as mine…for now…the less you no the better.” Leaning down to place a kiss along your forehead “ He’s a good kid though, if he wasn’t I wouldn’t let him within breathing distance of anyone you know…trust me baby..” Lips heading south until they finally met yours, the strong bite of tequila still laced against your tongue as he kissed you!

You wanted to continue pouting and argue but realistically you had no right so you checked yourself real quick ! This was still fresh, and Jimin’s not some pretty boy in a suit, he’s a pretty boy who also happens to be a drug dealer!

Hands slowly soothing up his chest before letting them have free reign to get lost in his freshly dyed locks! Hiking one of your legs around his waist so his hips could be buried as deep as possible. Yet Jimin couldn't focus, as much as he wanted too..and he really wanted too,he found himself constantly distracted by the bits and pieces of conversation that kept bouncing in and out of his ears! Hoping Tae could handle it on his own, but considering the way things kept escalating he knew he’d be forced to step in..and just like clockwork.

“Nah fuck that! You're not running this game one me! He’s right over there, I’ll just go take my issues up with your boss..” Jimin was waiting for it, it was clear as all hell he wanted to be heard to begin with. “Since you wanna act brand new! AYE PARK!”

Pulling away from you with a growl that made your chest tighten. Tossing his head back, taking a couple slow steady breaths as if he's tryng to recenter himself. Doing some form of inner “Don’t kill this motherfucker” mantra, the pause is so baited it’s almost as if he was debating weather to respond  or not! 

Once Jimin’s eyes fluttered open his entire aura changed withi seconds... “There better be a damn good reason for you to be interrupting me right now...” Gaze daggering in the duo’s direction  jaw tight, brow arched. Gently unwrapping your leg from his waist, ushering you to sit on his lap as he sat on the couch.

“No there's not! Ignore him he’s fucking wasted!” Tae tried, oh he tried, to cut in and end whatever “This” was but clearly that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“Yes there is-”

“No there’s not-”

‘What the fuck is the issue!? I don't have time for dumbshit.” Though he wasn’t yelling the sudden grit within Jimin’s voice was something completely foreign to you...his demeanor was something completely foreign to you. “Who the hell are you, and what’s your malfunction?? “ Flagging his hand haphazeradly as if to say “Hurry the fuck up!”

A dry scoff left the mans chest at that, almost charging in your direction, Jimin didn't flinch but the grip he held around your waist tightened on instinct. You’d be lying if you said you didn't get a little nervous, body tensing slightly under his hold.

“Fix this shit!” Pouring out an entire eight of weed onto the table...just casually...in the middle of a bar, throwing the black plastic bottle in the process. Making it rithoche off the table, almost hitting you in the face actually, Jimin’s reflexes coming in without a second thought, swatting it out the way.  The way Jimin’s eyes cut into however the hell the idiot was..let you know he just royally fucked up! The sharp breath that slipped past your lips did not go unnoticed…it’s like the sound suddenly set a bomb off inside Jimin’s head.

“Joon…” Sliding you off his lap gently almost ushering you to the left, but it was clear you had no idea what he wanted that’s when Namjoon spoke up.

“Over here sweetheart..” Signalling for you to sit next to him, the warmest smile on his face, his gesture not at all matching the setting, but you couldn't complain. His voice extremely soothing which helped since you were feeling a little more than uncomfortable right now!

“Min, Escort all of the ladies out of the room please…..”

Jimin’s delivery mirrored Namjoons, calm, collected, unbothered actually... which had you questioning if stuff like this was a common occurrence for him! Just as you went to get up Namjoon grabs your wrist.”Not you..stay where I can see you love…”

Ohh..Ohhh..Kay??! I mean to be fair you’d prefer not to be here right now but sure okay!

Mellissa’s eyes searched yours cautiously because again, she didn't know your history with Jimin but you flagged her along. Thankfully Tae whispered something that must've put her at ease because she left.

Jimin's eyes cut down to all the contorbant lying out in front of him, he knew it would only be minutes before the smell flooded the entire back area of the bar. His crop was cured to perfection, every batch.

“I paid for an eighter , look at that shit! That’s not a fuckin eighth...I want my shit fixed, and weighed out in my damn face!”

A sigh of almost embarrassment left your chest at that, you could see the issue off rip, so could Jimin.  Outside of the fact that you could literally smell the cheap vodka pouring off his tongue as he spoke…Whatever strand he got was dense...so on the surface until it’s broken apart it may not “look” like an eighth. That’s why you weigh your weed...the nugs weren’t even open. All he did was open the cup ...poured it out ...and bitch!

Jimin raised up from his seat slowly, walking in his direction, nodding actually..almost as if he was genuinely taking in what this guy had to say. Not stopping until the pair were eye level, yet surprisingly whoever this dude was, he didn't back down. Eyes narrowing in Jimin’s direction, as you sat back anxiously, waiting  for someone to say something!

“Get the fuck outta my face.” You damn near choked when you heard that,who the hell is this man and where's Jimin!?

 “After all that...” Flicking his hand around as if to reiterate all the previous bullshit as he pointed down at the table “I don't give a fuck what you paid for what you THINK your missin!” You could see his jaw twitch from where you were sitting, you’d never heard his voice that dark, stern, this level of dominance was a completely 360 of what he’s like in the bedroom. This was “The Plug Jimin”,  the one that lies beneath the pretty face when you push his buttons...and he was a different type of beast, literally!

“I just paid your boy $80.00, weigh my shit and fix it! I’m not fuckin leaving until you do...I got all night” Shoulder taut, chest puffed, though he still looks a tab bit ublanaced, you could probably knock him over right now. 

An almost inconvience sigh leaves Jimin’s throat, merely risiting the urge to smooth out the crease forming between his brows“I’m not askin. But for the record, what you paid for is lying on the table…” Pointing at the gangle of weed just chillin, again in the middle  “And that’s exactly where it’s gonna stay-”

“The fuck if it is …” Pressing both hands firm against Jimin’s chest, not knocking him back hard enough to earn the reaction he was clearly looking for though!

“Oh shit…” Accidently slipped past your lips thankfully in nothing but a whisper but Namjoon heard you, a low chuckle forming in his chest.

Leaning over to whisper in your ear ‘Yeah, he’s fucked…”

Jimin stagers back into frame, fingers clenched at his sides..“You came in here, disrespected me and my space, threw a bottle that almost hit my girl in the face…” There was a slight pause and you swore you heart about fell out of your ass, did Jimin just call you

  “His girl”!?

‘And you think I give a flying fuck about your eighth?” Head cocked to the side, looking genuinely perplexed as he posed the question “Again. Get. The. Fuck.Out.Of.My.Face.” Jimin’s push had more impact, damn near shoving him out of the room

At this point Tae stepped in standing in between them holding Jimin's arm slightly once he noticed the guy attempt to walk back in.

Ohhhhkay, now you were nervous, I mean you assumed Jmin could fight right!?HE IS a drug dealer pretty boy or not he has to be able to hold his own right!? RIGHT!?

“So this is the way you run business Park?” He has the nerve to look amused, a dirty little smirk tugging on his lips “Pulling slick shit on your customers ?! What you thought you could scam the white boy from the burbs and I wouldn’t notice? That's a bitch ass move even for you!” An arrogant chuckle leaving his throat “I bet you Tim’s reallllllllll  fuckin proud, such a fuckin joke!” Shaking his head mockingly…

Did he just!? Tim? Really!? Hell you were ready to knock his ass out yourself at this point, you wouldn’t even fault Jimin for whatever happens next! EVEN if he swings first, drunk or not there’s fucking boundaries!

Tae could feel Jimin’s body go completely rigid, it was almost scary how quickly he switched from frustrated to straight furry. Jaw sitting so tight yours was throbing at just the site alone, “What the fuck did you just say!?” You swore Jimin’s eyebrow was damn near touching his hairline it was quirked so strong, God you were hoping he wasn’t stupid enough to respond..the shit-eating grin and arrogant chuckle that feel from his lips said otherwise though...

“I said-“ The smile was knocked right off his face , literally Jimin's fist connected with his jaw so hard you almost felt the need to stroke your own! Especially with the amount of rings he had on, you knew that impact was nasty as he hit the floor, the little shit was resilient though! He tried to pop back up and Jimin literally pounced on him, you weren't even concerned or scared anymore you were lowkey cheering him on in your head! Not saying you want to see anyone get physically abused but fuck, he knew what button he was pushing when he mentioned Tim’s name and that’s exactly why he did it. He wanted this kind of reaction from Jimin, maybe he felt as though that was his “Win” if you will, being able to pull Jimin out of his typical calm, restrained persona! Well, you won...now you get to get your ass beat, and go home weedless so good on you sir good on you!

All you could hear was blow by blow, as Jimin’s fist repeatedly connected to his jaw, each grunt that left Jimin's chest deeper and darker than the last! The boys had somehow managed to step out into the main area which is what caught the bouncers attention. Jimin’s men were the ones prying at him, while security tried to free whoever this clown was from Jimin's wrath. It was clear at that point he gave up, not even trying to fight back.Your first instinct was to try and hide the weed that was literally laying across the table because you didn’t know his relationship with the club employees. The last thing you wanted was for Jimin to possibly get arrested thanks to whoever this asshole was!

That’s when you realized the guards were calling him by his name, which let you know they were very comfortable with Jimin, even there tone as they tried to calm him down. All you could hear was them saying was different variations of  “Relax man, relax, he ain't even worth it!!”.  

To be honest, it seemed as though Tae and yourself were on the same page as he was only half heartedly helping! Jimin was clawing at every piece of clothing he could reach, he was not trying to let this man walk free. What made it even worse is it was like he enjoyed this? You swore you could still see that shit  eating grin on his face once they finally pried Jimin off! A gritty chuckle leaving his lips as he spit on the floor nothing but blood leaving his lips, aiming in Jimin’s direction. “Bitch” Slipped past his lips, as they rangled him to his feet, funny how that's the first thing to leave his lips as he just got his ass beat!

Yoongi ended up being the one to actually get Jimin to let up, arm wrapped around the front of his chest, pulling his backwards by shoulder. Finally able to see how hard Jimin was panting as Yoongi whispered something in his ear which you assumed was in Korean because you couldn't even remotely understand what was said.

“Get him the fuck outta here!!” Growled from Yoongi’s chest with so much rage,and unrefined emotion,and that alone let you know how much he cared about Jimin. You could feel his anger as held his friend, who finally appeared to be calming down. Reclining almost fully into the man behind him, essentially dead weight as he tried to calm his body down. Not even notcing once the bouncers pulled the “customer” out of the room, he was still yelling some obsenary but that this point nobody even cared enough to feed into it! The room slowly started to clear out, I guess everyone got the unspoken memo to give the two of you some space! The air felt almost suffocating once they all left, not sure what to say, or how to approach him after what just took place.

Jimin just stood in the middle of the room for a minute, hands braced on his hips, head slouched slightly as he tried to pull himself together. Little did you know he was actually nervous, wondering if he just comepley shattered any and every chance he had with you after what just happened! Walking over to plop down next to you on the couch panting heavily, ruffling his fingers through his slightly damp locks. For some reason the minute he sat down, you could sense his body language, how uneasy he felt, so you made the first move. Silently playing with the strands of hair behind his ear until his eyes fluttered over at you. Before you even had time to say anything he moved you onto his lap, a slight squeal leaving your lips in surprise. One hand finding its home on the curve of your ass while the other caressed your jaw, a deep exhale leaving his chest before he posed his question.

“You okay?” Tone slightly weary as if he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know the answer to his own question.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you gazed down at him with nothing but fondness! Already well aware he wasn’t just referring to the bottle almost hitting your face he meant in general, especially where he was concerned!

Leaning down to kiss his nose, not even caring that he was slightly sweaty, keeping your lips in place for a moment, feeling the way his entire body lax around you. “I’m good baby…. but I’m also an educated weed  ...connoisseur, who understands density levels...within different strands soooo.....”

The ugliest cackle ripped from Jimin’s lips at that tossing his head back in pure amusement, the entire vibe took a complete 360 which is exactly what you were aiming for! Yeah, shit got crazy, your original plan when leaving the house was just to grab some drinks with your girl but hell here you are!

The smile that laid along his face was short lived,it was written all over his face how mentally and physically disturbid his spirit was! And it had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with you, cocking his head to the side slightly so his eyes could lock with yours....

 “I know-I don’t get to pick and choose but fuck, I really didn't want this to happen this way, I keep telling you “For you safety the less you know the better” yet... I damn near walked you straight into it tonight! You didin’t ask for this shit!” You could hear how frustrated he was with himself as he spoke, tone getting extremely gritty!  “I-You sure your okay? You sure your still down for all this?” The intinisty that laid within his eyes as he said that was almost stiffeling, Jimin was searching for even a flicker of uncertainty. He wouldn’t find it though,your mind was already made up! “I wouldn't blame you if you weren't at this point!You havent even gone a full month with me and your watching me step out of character on some dumb shit!” 

God you hated how hard he was being on himself right now, especially considering tonights circumstances “I literally got into a fight because some drunk idiot can’t weigh his own weed, and I physically brought you right in the middle of it, I told myself to leave you alone. Let you just chill with your girls but I just-couldn’t” Shaking his head in almost disgust as he relived the past half hour in his head,hearing how shaky and vunerable he sounds had your heart sinking “Fuck- I dont know, I don’t even knnow what I’m trying to say right now, I mean I can’t apolgize because this is my life, yet I feel like I owe you one…” Tossing his head back ruffling his fingers through his scalp hastily.

Jimin’s never promised you rainbows and butterflies, and he damn sure never once sugarcoated his lifestyle!  All he promised you was him...all of him, and he’s delivered every time! Cupping his jaw between the palm of your hands “Jimin, baby stop, I’m not goin anywhere.... don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl! I got this, plus “that” Gesturing at the weed still sprawled out along the table “ Was NOT your fault, the last thing you owe me is an apology,that asshole deserved everything he got! You warned me what I was stepping into with you, I CHOSE, to say yes, nobody forced me into this...and I still want it , I still want you! You never promised me a cake walk... you promised me you...as long as you give me that, I’ll figure the rest out on my own!”

You could litterally feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the couch while you soothed your palms, down the side of his neck, over to his chest, fuck he was so damn soft for you! You could see it in his eyes how much that confirmation meant to him, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of your palm. “Thank you” fell from his lips in nothing but whisper.”You already know you got me, in anyway you want me....I told you..you can have anything you want from me” Pulling you down for a kiss, just letting his lips linger against yours...not in any rush to do much else, he just wanted to feel you!

That alone had you moaning into his mouth, he had you wrapped around his finger jus as much as you did him! “I’ve missed you by the way, my beds been a little lonely” letting your hands have free reign under his shirt, your warmth pressing against his skin. “Plus.” leaning down to bury your face in the crook of his neck “I really want your dick in my mouth..,I still can’t get over how sexy you look when your angry... ” Sinking your teeth into “Your spot”, with a moan grinding your hips down into him.

“Babyyy, fuck” Moaned from his lips bucking his hips up into you making sure you felt how hard he was,but more importantly reminding you who was in control .

“You still feel really tense baby...I think we need to do something to release all this pent up adrenaline..” Rolling your hips into him even deeper

“God yes, you dont even know how bad I wanna fuck you...how hard I wanna make you come”  Just like clockwork, bedroom voice activated, panties completely soaked!  “Babyyy let me fuck you!”Not even attempting to pose it as a question because he already knew the anwser!

“Fuck, I’m not stopping you!”

~~~~~~~~

Within minutes your back was slamming against the bathroom stall so hard the divider was shaking, Jimin threw his entire body onto you, as he slid his tongue into your mouth with zero warning. Not even bothering to ease his way into it, he started off deep, needy, both of you needing so much from each other all at once .Hands romaing up your body, hiking your dress above your waist, not even caring to be quiet, if someone heard they heard, fuck it!

His hands were everywhere and so were yours tugging on his hair, his clothes, any and everything you could reach! Damn near ripping his shirt open you were growing so impatient to feel his skin against yours. Guiding your hand down to work his zipper, sliding his jeans down his thighs, while he pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the ground in front of his feet.. ‘Knees baby….” rolled off his tongue and to be honest you couldn't drop down fast enough, you already knew he was rock hard. No “Prep” was needed, this was solely for his pleasure as much as your. Mouth watering the minute you freed him from his boxers, he was thick and veiney, and just fucking perfect.

Glancing up at him almost doe eyed, adding a deep arch into your back as you blew on the tip “Fuck my throat…”

A smirk moved up Jimin’s face at that, letting his hand stroke your cheek“Open up, show me how much you can take baby”

Wrapping your lips around his tip, suctioning your lips around it, slowly massaging the head with your tongue. Eyes fluttering up at him, reaching over to dig your nails into his thigh, until his hand moved over to your hair, moaning out around his length at his tight he gripped your scalp. It was literally throbbing but that's why you wanted, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth “Oh fuckkkk..” head hitting the wall as he felt your jaw lax. Not stopping until he hit the back of your throat, pulling back tentatively, you could feel his muscles tensing beneath your hand. Not expecting you to start off that deep, you decided he needed a little push so you slowly started sucking him deeper, and deeper, until he yanked your head back. Holding you in place the smirk more than evident in your eyes “God I’m gonna fuck you sooo damn hard..” Growled from his lips as he slowly started to roll his hips into your mouth, everytime your mouth came flesh with his pubic boone his hand caressed the back of your head.

“Babbyyyy fuckkkkk” there it was, your favorite sound ...Jimin whining! Glancing up only to find him completely lost in the moment, eyes shut, jaw slightly ajar. His opposite hand soothing it’s way up your back as he started to pick up momentum. Rolling his hips into your mouth at a deep steady pace almost making you gag, making him feel like you were almost swallowing his dick. “Mm, your soo good baby that feels so good” the words were so faint, the fact that you already had him THIS GONE, in combination with his words of praise had your entire body tingling. Jimin’s dick was throbbing from how tight your lips were wrapped around him, fluctuating the pressure you applied, while stroking his length with your tongue.  His fingers taking an even stronger grip on your hair, as he bucked up even harder into your mouth. “Fuck stop, baby stop, stop!” Almost begging at this point, and when you decided to be a little shit...he pulled you up by your hair. Lips swollen and wet, licking his way into your mouth just enough to say  to tease you, spinning you around, letting your face almost slam into the wall in the process.

“You reallyyy fuckin askin for it tonight!”

Dress sitting mid stomach, “Well, I have been ask-fuckkkk” hand connecting to your ass with such impact you literally screamed, your skin was throbbing under his palm. Somehow you missed the part when Jimin dropped to his knees the realization came once you felt his teeth sinking into the curve of your ass. Sucking down on your skin until it was the shade of his liking, keening out in the perfection combination of pleasure and pain!  Spreading your cheeks, leaning up to bury his face within your heat, Jimin wasn't teasing tonight he was on a damn mission. “Jimin fuck-”  Reaching up, to hold onto the top of the stall devider for support, actually you were falling into it! Jimin's tongue was every damn where, the perfect angle to get his tongue deep into every crevice within your folds.  Body jerking, at every lingued stroke of the tongue, still not used to the added pressure Jimin’s piercing added, and honestly you never wanted to get use to it!   ‘Oh my godddd..” Eyes squeezed shut as his name fell from your lips repeatedly as if that was the only thing you knew how to do right now.

You could fee the tip of his nose brushing against your lips as he worked your entrance with his tongue, waving it in and out until you started trying to clench around him for more stimulation. You could hear how wet you were, how messy he was, the sound of your juices sliding around as he laped his tongue from top to bottom, teasing at your ass slightly. Moaning out as your juices slide down his face, the added vibration almost had you  toppling over yourself. Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking, hard..as if he was trying to suck your soul out of your pussy you couldn't even breathe. “Jimin-Jimin-fuck please...just fuck me pleasee…..”

Soothing his hands up your thighs, laying his tongue flat against your heat, taking a couple long slow strokes, kissing his way up the curve of your ass as he finally got off the floor. Pressing down on your back “Arch for me baby….” Spreading your legs apart, as you lowered your spine “Put your other hand up here...your gonna need it..” God you could hear the arrogance within that but you were too needy to be a smart ass right now! Running his fingers up and down your lips which were currently dripping down his hand sliding in three fingers deep, with ZERO warning. The high pitched  moan that left your throat bounced off every wall in the bathroom, and you couldn't even get yourself to care.  Not wasting any time as he curled his fingers upwards pumping them in and out, just enough to have your walls slightly at ease. “Fuckkk…baby “ face contouring in nothing but pleasure as he felt  how wet and warm you were. He knew you really weren’t stretched out enough but fucking you open with his fingers felt like pure toture at this point. Sliding his fingers out, using your juices to coat his length, making sure he was nice and wet before he slid in.

Lips kissing along your shoulder as his tip teased up and down your folds “Jimin pleasee fuck me!”  

You were getting bratty, and impatient as you rocked your hips into him. Forcing his tip in slightly rocking back until his hands met your scalp, pulling your neck back onto his shoulder. Sinking his teeth into the base of your neck “Don’t fuckin rush me!” Growled against your neck as he dug his nails into your thighs, finally sliding in completely. You almost choked, as you felt him force his way through your heat in one steady stroke.His body flush against yours. Even though you were dripping , you still needed a moment to adjust to his stretch and he could tell. Massaging your ass gently kissing his way up your neck. He could feel you pulsing around him as you tried to adjust both of you moaning from how good he felt inside you. You couldn't help it, you were just sucking him in, involuntary clenching and releasing, and you heard him wince every time. “You ready for me baby?.” His tone was different this time around, more..intimate if you will ...instead of physically responding you just rolled your hips back into him which was all he heeded, to get him going.

Suddenly the two of you heard the stall open, the person actually into the one to your right “Good luck with that…” before you even had time to process what he meant he slammed his hips into you, a gritty chuckle leaving his throat once he heard the squeal that left yours! “Sorry...”Nothing about that even seemed sincere, considering the way continuously kept pounding into at that pace. The grip he held on your waist was so tight you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. “Shhhh” taunted off his lips with a smirk as he pounded into you …

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was enough of an indication as to what was going on, not to mention you weren't even close to quiet at this point which only added fuel to the fire.  “God your so fucking loud!” gritted through clenched teeth “You like having daddy cock inside you that much baby? Hmm you don’t even care people can hear me fucking you right now? Hear how wet your pussy gets for me” He was right you could physically hear your wetness as he slide in and out, you were dripping down his balls.

“Yes, fuck, feels so good-” you were practially whsipering you were so winded Hhs strokes were long ...deep, but fast, he was trying to ruin you and he was succeeding.  Everything was hazy you didn't care who was or wasn’t around, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body so desperate for realise you were milking every inch of him. You could feel him hitting every spot, unraveling you never by nerve, he was all you needed, and more right now. You felt high when he was inside you, everything was just hypersensitive, It was like you could feel every detail of him. From how veiny he was  to the way his dick curved,as he coursed through your walls,coating every inch of him in your juices. And the best part is, he wants some fling at a bar he was yours..alllll yours!

“You wanna come so bad don’t you baby, look at you..dripping down my cock, such a good girl for me . I can feel you sucking me back in, fuck…” His hand smacked against the wall, as he continued to roll his hips into you, one hand digging into your hips, neck reclined, jaw extremely tight. He was just as fucked out as you were trying to hold it together,until he had you were he wanted you.

“Fuck, please, please let me cum god I can't-” You legs were starting to give in, you needed him to give you that little bit of stimulation you needed or let you do it yourself. You felt his hand move over to your bottom lip, eagerly sucking  them into your mouth, moaning against skin. His hand finally meeting the area that’s been crying out for him, and your body almost caved in, at the sudden stimulation and he wasn't gentle. Attacking your already overly sensitive bud, moving his fingers in a counterclockwise motion as he kept steady pressure on your clit. You felt the familiar feeling start to build up in your core again, you were clenching around him so tight you almost felt light headed . His lips met the side of your neck again as he flicked the skin with his teeth.

Not even able to fathom how you hadn't passed out and how he was able to continue at this pace, as he slammed into you. He’d rock his hips into you fast and hard, yet almost rolling them out of you, so it felt like he was almost..curling upwards..hitting every inch perfectly . “Right there baby? Is that what you need? You wanna make a mess all over my dick???” Nodding frantically, because you really couldn't hold it anymore..”Fucking cum then…” That was all you needed your body was quaking, clenching down around him so hard, you almost lost you balance. Eyes squeezing shut, you skin was on fire, not even able to fully process all the feelings that were taking over your body you were in such intense pleasure. Almost cumming in silence, because you forgot to breathe..”Fuck yes, that’s my baby,soo good for me..keep coming” 

“Oh my- fuck, god...yes...” Your cry wasn’t even audible as you pressed your face into the walls. nails clawing at his clothed thighs, surprised you actually didn't rip a hole straight through ..as pure pleasure rang through your ears feeling yourself drip down your thighs. You felt his hand take a firm grip around your neck, almost knocking the wind out of you as he rolled his hips into you.. deeper..teeth grazing the skin beneath your ear .

“Louder..” The command coming out in the form of a growl coursed through your veins as his opposite hand stayed connected to your clit almost making your knees buckle. You were already so swollen and beyond sensitive ”I said..LOUDER.. You've been begging to come let everybody hear you..let everyone know how good I’m fucking you, and how wet, your pussy gets for me..fuck baby your so wet..” Still amazed how he could sound just as needy as he did dominant, because all of that rolled off his tongue in nothing but a moan..half of his words slurred together. 

Continuing to rock his hips into you as you rode out your high, you felt limp at this point your body was drained..Not even able to cry out anymore instead you were just dry heaving. You honestly weren't sure, how much more you could take, you were starting to get extremely sensitive. Every stoke made your body shudder around him, each stoke made you clench even tighter. Luckily you also felt  how hard he was and how sparatic his thrusts were becoming so you knew he was close. He finally removed his hand from your clit, which allowed you to pull yourself together enough to coach him on “Is daddy gonna come for me? You made me come so fucking hard, You fill me up so good baby..” You started rocking back against him slightly, you felt his damp head of hair hit your back, as his faint moans grew stronger as they got lost against your hair.

“Is that what you want? You wanna feel me between your thighs until we get home??” He was so damn close you could hear it in his voice

Wrapping his arm around your waist his thrusts slowed down but got deeper , reclining  your neck, reaching back to grab the back of his head, making him look at you. Eyelids heavy, skin damp as he sucked his bottom into his mouth, fuck he looked so good. “Yesss, come for me baby pleaseee I need it, fuck you feel so good, ” A deep husky moan left his lips at the sound of your parise,, he fucking loved, it, damn near melting at your touch.He crashed his lips into yours. Tighten your walls around him, as hard as you could and that was all he needed, hearing him moan against your tongue was probably one of the sexiest things you've ever heard. The harder he came the deeper he kissed you, as the grip on your waist got tighter.

Even after he came, while his breathing was still erratic, his lips never left yours, just letting his tongue play with yours lazily and he sucked it into his mouth. You honestly lost track of how long the two of you stayed like that, both of you were sweating hard as hell.You felt his hands sooth up your thighs, as you massaged his scalp, you could the mixture of both of your arousals still running down your thighs.”Your fuckin amazing…” Something about his delivery let you know he meant that more than just sexually! Smiling into the kiss he pressed along your lips as he pulled out,spinning you around so you were finally facing him. “My pretty baby..” Fell from his lips, as he gazed down at you, eyes glazed over, skin dewy, hair a tousled mess over your head..your loose curls now long gone.Panting hard as hell yet in his eyes you looked fucking perfect! 

The feeling of both of  your arousals slicking down your thighs, had you ready to come all over again, Jimin filled you to the brim. Holding onto the top of the divider for support, thighs still shaking especially because you were wearing heels!  “W-What are you doing??” Staring down puzzled once you saw him sink to his knees….

“Look how much of a mess I made…” Teasing his fingers up your folds, playing with his cum that was currently seeping down your thighs “Your drippin everywhere baby..I gotta clean you up a little before we leave..”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you walked out of the bar hand and hand, both still head and body high, legs feeling like complete mush in your heels as you clung to Jimin for dear life. Face nuzzled in his side, the cool breeze was more than welcomed, while the two of you maneuvered through the lot. Still full of druken people moving far too slow for your liking! Alll you wanted was to get Taco bell, shower, and crawl in bed with Jimin...in that order!

“Fuck where the hell did I park!?”

Slapping Jimin’s chest playfully ‘How the hell should I know I rode here in a Uber! I swear to god Jimin I’mma make you carry me in a minute my thighs are not set up for this right now, hit your damn panic button!”

“Aye Park…” A voice whispered through the parking lot, the sound alone had Jimin head spinning, squeezing your hand a little tighter, pulling you behind him slightly. Almost as if to shield you from the gentlemen that was currently posted on the hood of a lime green Camaro.

“What’s up?” You could read it in his tone, it was friendly but somewhat cautious all at the same time...clearly, you weren't the only one who picked up on it either. Am amused chuckle rumbled in the stranger's chest, as he wrapped his lips around a cigarette.

“Don’t sound too excited to see me...I drove all the way from Cleveland  JUST for you, you should feel special. Plus..ya boy needs a favor”

You watched Jimin’s eyes flutter shut briefly, reaching into his pocket to hand you his keys “Hey baby..go wait in the car for me...” His blatant shift in demeanor had you a little concerned, more so now than earlier, you weren’t good at hiding your emotions either so he read it all over your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute….” Flicking his head to the left, indicating you needed to dismiss yourself..so that’s exactly what you did! Slipping the keys from out of his hands, scurrying to find his car. A million and one scenarios spinning through your head in the process! 

“Who’s that?” Cocking his head to the side slightly, eyeing your ass, as you walked off...Jimin didn't say shit though, and it took everything in him not too! He didn’t want him to know that he cared enough about you to say something, the less he knew about you the better!

“Don’t worry about it! What do you need Jay?”

  THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE FOR NOW! IF YOU LIKED IT “LIKE IT” COME HIT UP THE ASK AS LONG AS THE SERIES KEEPS GETTING LOVE  I’ll CONTINUE IT! LOVE YOU GUYS AS ALWAYS,

ROCKI!

FINAL NOTE- OH, IF YOU FOLLOW THE SERIES THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER 21 QUESTIONS BUT THERE WILL STILL BE A PART TWO.THE QUESTIONS THAT ARRISE WITHIN THAT MINI SERIES WILL CORRELATE WITH THE MAIN SERIES...HINTS WHY TIM WAS DISCUSSED IN PART 1! SOOO IN PART 2 THERE WILL BE A HINT AS TO WHO “JAY” IS AND GIVE YOU A IDEA OF WHAT HE WANTS. 

MASTERLIST

[ufonaut]

Icemaster/Sportcicle prompt: Larry’s POV: Larry cares, at least a little... not that Jordan would believe it. An attempt to steer Jordan into a healthier mindset is rebuffed. Maybe post-Brainwave in coma, or immediately before or after the season 2 finale?

immediately after brainwave’s coma/wizard’s death. based heavily around this neil jackson interview

---

It’s the mention of ice that has Larry glued to the TV until midnight, enduring Denise Zarick’s tears and Sharpe’s stumbling statement on behalf of the American Dream with a decisive sort of bored indifference. It’s only a step above mindless channel surfing, a habit Larry’s never had and isn’t about to fall into now. Still, a fighting little thought compels him. They’d said, somewhere between all the whining about Councilman Zarick, that little Joey had slid on ice when he’d been hit head-first. A slip of the tongue, maybe, but Larry’s heard of weirder things than snowstorms in September and he knows a certain someone’s expected into town.

By the time Larry crawls into bed and wraps an arm around Paula, he’s convinced himself of the obvious. “Pretty sure Jordan killed Wizard,” he mumbles into Paula’s shoulder and gets a kick for his trouble.

---

With the ISA, it’s often been a matter of novelty. Larry’s dedicated the vast majority of his time to the pursuit of seeing how it all plays out and he’s yet to regret it, even if he ends up speeding through his morning routine and runs a couple red lights on the way to drop off Artemis at school. He’s excited. There’s no other way to put it.

Henry’s out of the game for the foreseeable future and while Larry’s not about to pack up and take off at the first sign of disaster, he’s got an inkling of what it might mean for Jordan. For the plan, too. It’s nothing good. The inevitable carnage strikes him as invigorating. Beyond that, it’s been a little too long since Jordan’s graced Blue Valley with his presence and Larry has grown very nearly enamoured with the notion of his nonsensical plan, the way he seems intent on moving past impossibility on the stupidity of hope alone.

It’s adorable.

In Larry’s world, Jordan’s idealism ranks somewhere between kittens and the picture of Artemis, aged three and dressed like Jason Voorhees, he keeps in his wallet.

The drive to the Mahkent house drags on like never before, though the town’s frustratingly small and easily traversed blind. It’s not the enthusiasm of a hunt but it’s close enough to count, thoughts of Zarick’s death at the hands of a man Larry’s never once known to lash out swirling around his mind. Jordan is not a puzzle to be solved nor full of surprises but, every now and again, he manages to impress.

Larry parks in the middle of the driveway, almost certainly blocks any approaching or departing cars and, past awkward greetings exchanged with Jordan’s parents, takes the stairs two at a time. Blue Valley, located in the vicinity of nothing and nowhere, presents few means of entertainment. It’s only right to seize whatever opportunity comes his way, Larry’s even willing to settle for a second-hand look at all the gory details. Wizard has barely been considered a colleague, let alone a friend, and with nothing to mourn, Larry likes to think he’s opting for the next best thing.

Ultimately, there’s no need to hurry.

Jordan’s bedroom is a dismal affair that carries the distinct impression of having walked into a darkened freezer to the bitter end. The minute he steps in, Larry’s greeted by the sight of his own breath in the chilled air.

“Hey there, bud,” he says, bright because he’s capable of little else, as he slams the door shut hard enough to knock some ice off. It’s hardly his intention, unaided by the cold. Somewhere underneath the frozen covers, Jordan stirs in bed. He’s perplexingly normal, a little worse for wear than Larry’s last seen him and passably in need of a shave but-- not tinted blue, for a start. “What, it just starts snowing when you’re moping around?”

For the longest time, Jordan seems to consider that. He makes a deceptively pretty picture in the midst of this snow-angel spectacle. “You didn’t call,” he decides, at last, hoarse with disuse.

In hindsight, the thought should’ve occurred to Larry much sooner. Jordan gets like this, disappears into the vacuum of a hole that’s been gnawing at him for nearly a decade now when he forgets to stitch his life together the best way he knows how. It’s guilt or remorse or a sadness that’s never been familiar to Larry. For convenience’s sake, it’s easier to wrench him out than see it through. Larry wouldn’t call it a great concern of his but he wouldn’t be running Ripped City if he didn’t harbour some passion for seeing people improve. He’d like that for Jordan, he thinks.

“Aw, Icy, I’m real sorry,” Larry says and clears a space for himself in the snow, sits close to where Jordan’s peeking at him owlishly from his frosty cocoon of tangled bedsheets, “we all just thought it’d be for the best if Sharpe broke the news. Y’know, so he could book you a plane ticket on the spot an’ all that. You wanted to come home right away, didn’tcha?”

Jordan nods, only slightly hesitant, and Larry takes it as permission to brush a hand through his hair. The cold mellows out.

“Listen, sure, Brainy’s out of commission just now but it doesn’t mean he’s gonna stay that way! You think a bump on the ol’ noggin is gonna take him out? C’mon, he’ll be back to annoying us in no time.” Larry chuckles and nearly believes it himself, though his grin’s all real at Jordan’s wet little laugh.

He props up a pillow and settles back, fingers still carding absently through Jordan’s hair. Larry hasn’t forgotten what he came here for, as much as it’s taken a backseat to the abrupt despair Jordan’s sunk into. “Hey, what’s the deal with Wizard anyway?” Maybe it’s the timing that’s all wrong, though Larry likes to think he always gets it right. Jordan stiffens and makes to turn, stopped only by the grip Larry’s got on him.

Eventually, he relents.

“I didn’t want-- I can’t lose Henry, Crusher, not after--” Christine. It goes unspoken. Jordan’s breathing picks up like he’s fighting through an abrupt sense of panic. He pushes through it all the same. “The plan wouldn’t work without him. If William isn’t-- wasn’t with us, then he was against us. Sacrifices had to be made for the mission, he was-- he had his wand pointed at me, I-- I had to do what’s right.”

Larry wants to laugh. Almost does, really. Jordan’s spiel must’ve been rehearsed a thousand times before, justifications upon justifications because he’s never quite learned not to let it get to him, because Zarick was a friend to him, because-- he’s himself.

“Sure you did, champ,” he says, just nice enough.

On days like these, Larry’s all action. Not that it differs much from the norm. He takes a moment to pad into the en-suite bathroom and get the shower running. “Alright, Icy, here’s the deal,” he calls out from the bathroom, making sure the water’s all nice and hot, “I’m gonna get you ready for the day and you’re gonna put up with it. How’s that sound?”

“Crusher, you don’t have to--”

“Nah, I think I do.” Larry smiles and, as he makes it back to where Jordan’s sat up in bed, he offers a hand. There’s always a sense of accomplishment in the face of progress, be it out in the field or at the gym. “You just gotta shower and I’ll take care of the rest, bud. Hell, I’ll even dress you up, if ya need it.”

Something tells him it might just come to that.

He does yank Jordan out of bed then, a firm grip and enthusiasm to match. “C’mon, bud, you got this!” Larry says and slaps Jordan’s ass as he pushes him into the bathroom.

It’s a start, if nothing else.

[lukesxbitch]

The Masseuse

A/N: I wanted this. So I figured you’d want it too.

Words: 6k

Rating: NC-17

You tried rolling your neck to rid the discomfort caused by not only the lack of sleep, but the quality of it too. You need a new mattress, bad. The job you’re currently located at was not paying you enough for that. So it seems that you’re stuck with the discomfort for now.

You let out a groan when the tension didn’t ease up, now trying to dig the tips of your fingers into the muscles to calm them down. It did nothing. You sighed in exasperation as you threw your hands in your lap. It’s just something you have to deal with right now.

Standing up from your desk with a few papers in hand, you make your way to the photo copier to make a few copies that your boss had asked you to. “5853,” You mumble to yourself as you type your password in. You hear someone down the hall call your name, and turn your head to face them.

Groaning at the pain you almost forgot about, you once again bring up a hand to rub at your sore neck.

“You okay there, Y/N?” Calum asks once he finally made his way to you.

“I’m fine,” You grumble, a little annoyed at your lack attentiveness to your issue. “I just didn’t sleep too well, and my neck is giving me the consequences of that.”

“That bad?” He asks again.

“You have no idea.” You answer, once again groaning at the thought of dealing with this any longer.

“Uh, I- uh I have a friend who is actually a masseuse, I go to him sometimes when my muscles are giving me a tough time. He’s really good and it definitely doesn’t hurt that he gives me discounts.” He informs you, laughing at the end. You join him, but are ultimately intrigued.

“I don’t know, aren’t they usually expensive? I’m not sure about you, but this job doesn’t really give me that extra spending money.” You inquire, interested, but still a bit skeptical.

“That’s the thing! If you tell him I sent you, he’ll definitely give you a discount too. It’s so worth it Y/N.” Calum adds.

You think about it, almost seeing no reason to say no.

“Alright, if you can get me in, Calum, I’ll definitely go. Just let me know the time and place.” You agree finally. You’ve never been to a legitimate massage place, you were kind of excited for this.

“Sounds good, Y/N,” He smiles, turning to walk back down the hall. You see him stop in his tracks and come racing back to you, a bit sheepish, you might add. “I almost forgot what I came to talk to you about, did you finish the expense reports that were due?” Calum chuckles at his near mistake.

You hold the papers you just finished with in your hand, showing them to him.

“These?” You ask with a grin on your face. Calum nods with a small smile still on his face.

“Yeah I just had a few questions, can I ask you over our lunch?” He smiles, and you can immediately tell he hasn’t started them.

Sighing, you agree telling him to meet you at your desk in 5.

Calum, already down the hall, screams a thank you, as you just shake your head.

You sit back down at your desk waiting for Calum to show up, thinking about the friend he referred you to, excited at just the mere though of no longer having to deal with the pain in your neck.

~

Sitting at your table, with a glass of cheap wine you had in your cupboard, and the microwave meal in front of you, making you feel a bit healthier than just making ramen, you sigh, feeling that the tenderness in your muscles have not let up one bit.

“How bad did I sleep to do this, jesus.” You mumble, really annoyed it hadn’t gone away yet.

At the though of your neck, as if by coincidence, you hear your phone ding with the sound of a new text. You glance down at it on the table, seeing Calum’s name as the sender.

Picking it up, you unlock your phone and open your messages clicking on the conversation with Calum.

‘I talked to Luke, you’re all set for a massage with him tomorrow at noon’ It read.

‘Oh wow that was fast, thank you!! Do I just show up and tell them my name?’ You replied.

It was another minute or so before your phone dinged again.

‘Yeah that should be good, hope it goes well’

‘Thank you so much Calum, I owe you coffee for a week’

His reply came quicker this time.

‘Nah you’re good. You helped me with the expenses :)’

Laughing, you close your phone and finally relax a bit, finally knowing you’re going to get the relief you’ve been craving.

~

You woke up the next morning, glancing at the clock and seeing 10:30 flashing in bright red numbers. Thank god it was Saturday.

Sighing you roll out of bed, wincing as your head turns slightly.

“Fucking hell.” You groan. Why is it still so tender? Your arms reach up as you try to stretch your limbs, hearing a crack coming from your back. You relax a bit at the slight relief the crack brought.

You plant your feet on the ground and get up, padding over to you door that leads to your hallway. You were glad you had the weekend to relax, starting with the coffee you were about to make.

The coffee pot fills with water from your tap, until you pour it into the back of your coffee machine. Adding the coffee grounds, you turn the machine on, ready to wait.

You turn to your fridge, which was nearly empty, but you grab an apple that was kept in there. You lightly rinse it before taking a bite.

Your coffee was almost ready by the time you had eaten the apple to the core. You grab a mug from the cupboard and fill it with the fresh coffee.

Sipping it, feeling the warm liquid go down your throat, you sighed in contentment. You checked the clock again seeing 20 minutes had gone by since you woke up.

I should probably get ready, you thought to yourself.

Grabbing your coffee, you started down the hall again to your room. Taking a few more quick sips, you set it down and make your way to your closet.

Loose clothes, right? It crossed your mind when you remembered that this guy will most likely use oils with his massage.

You grabbed a pair of sweatpants, as well as a loose fitting t-shirt. Clothes you wouldn’t care for if they got stained by the oils.

Slipping them on, you grab your coffee again and chug what ever was left. You went into your bathroom to brush your teeth and do whatever else you felt was necessary.

About half an hour later you felt it was appropriate to leave, wanting to make sure you got there early, but not too early.

You grab a jacket, and leave your apartment, locking the door after you’ve closed it. You make your way to the stairs, taking them down to your car.

Hopping in, you turn it on and pull out of your spot, getting onto the road and heading to the place where Calum’s friend worked.

You parked the car and made your way inside the surprisingly very nice building. Yeah, you definitely couldn’t afford this if you didn’t have a discount. Thank god for Calum.

At the thought of the dark haired boy, you pull your phone out shooting him a quick text letting him know you’ve arrived, and that you’re very thankful.

You walk up to the desk where a very pretty lady sat, typing at a computer.

At the sound of your footsteps she looks up, immediately throwing a huge smile on her face. “Are you here for an appointment?” The words leave her mouth, in a very soothing voice.

“Y-yeah my friend Calum helped set me up.” You replied, a bit nervous. A small blush came to her cheeks at the mention of Calum.

“Ah yes, Calum. He comes in often. You must be Y/N,” She says while already grabbing a few forms and a clipboard with a pen attached to the top. “We just need you to fill this out, let us know any problem issues, or any allergies or skin conditions. Also, please sign at the bottom once you’re done.”

You took the clipboard from her hands, and went to sit in the chairs to fill it out. Your eyes scanned the paper noting that you had some tension in your neck/shoulder area. You added your lower back too, cause, why not.

Once you finished filling it out, you signed at the bottom, and stood to give her the information and clipboard back.

Her eyes scanned over the papers, a smile on her face. “Perfect, thank you Y/N, please sit, until Luke is ready for you.”

With a nod you did as she instructed, and made your way back to the seat you were at before.

No longer than 5 minutes later, you heard your name being softly called. Your eyes shot up and your breath almost caught in your throat at what you saw.

A tall man, with the most stunning baby blue eyes, a sharp jaw, only being shown off further by the slight beard he had growing. Full pink lips, that you could just imagine on your own. With hair that fell in golden curls around his head, broad shoulders that tapered off into narrow hips, accompanied by legs that went on for days. His body was covered in black slacks and a tight white shirt, doing everything to show the muscles he had beneath. You could’ve audibly moaned at the sight of this man, this god. You had never seen someone as ethereal as him before. You were quite honestly stunned.

You staring had caused a blush to form, starting at his neck and making its way onto his cheeks. God he was beautiful.

He cleared his throat and repeated your name, instantly causing you to blush yourself and rise to your feet. You grabbed your jacket you had temporarily taken off, and made your way towards the back rooms with him.

You trailed behind him, taking in the beauty that was this man. Why hadn’t Calum told you he was so attractive. He was by far the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

He eventually stopped at a door marked with a 4. He led you inside and quietly waited by then entrance as you placed your belongings on the floor.

He opened his mouth to speak, and god his voice only made him hotter, “I’m going to step out of the room so you can undress. I’m Luke by the way, I’m sure Calum mentioned that.”

“Yeah he did,” You smiled at him, confirming his thoughts. As Luke turned to walk out you mumbled under your breath, “he didn’t mention you’d be so damn cute, though.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Your eyes widened as you stumbled over your words. “I-I didn’t say anything, sorry.” Your heart was racing.

Luke chuckled, but closed the door anyways. You started to remove your clothes, starting with your pants. You couldn’t remember if you were supposed to keep you underwear on or off, so you just took them off to be safe. Once you removed the rest of your clothes, you laid face down on the massage bed, laying the towel over your lower half. A few minutes passed before Luke knocked on the door.

“You’re good.” You called out, hoping he can hear even though your head was stuffed in a hole.

The door squeaked open, as Luke walked into the room.

“Alright, so it says here that you’ve been having neck and shoulder issues, as well as lower back?” He inquired while reading the paper you filled in earlier.

You let out a small ‘mhm’, finding it hard to talk in your position.

“Okay, sounds good, this should take about an hour, if anything doesn’t feel right let me know right away.” Luke concluded before starting the massage.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him. You heard the footsteps as he made his way closer to you, with a small cart rolling beside him. He picked up a bottle of oil, squirting some on his hand, before putting it back down. He rubbed his hands together to warm it up, the sound itself making you blush again. Luke brought his hands to the skin of your back, making you jump, even though he had warmed the oil up previously. Luke chuckled a bit under his breath.

“Sorry.” You spoke sheepishly.

“It’s alright, love.” It was just now you had noticed the hint of an Australian accent, can he get any hotter.

It got quiet again as he continued to work at your body, you can feel every stress fade away. He made his way to your biggest concern, your neck.

Luke’s hands applied the pressure where it was needed, but rubbed over the areas that didn’t. Oh my god, it felt so good, I could feel each muscle just melt, all tension just dripping away. A small moan left your mouth, due to the pleasure Luke was providing you. You felt his hands falter slightly at the sound, but almost immediately got back to work.

Not long after, your neck was feeling much better, his hands doing better than yours could’ve ever hoped to. His hands started to move lower, still applying that delicious pressure you’ve been receiving the whole time. The feel of his hands on your body has sparked something in you, a heat starting in your lower abdomen. His hands reached your lower back, relieving the slight pain you’ve been feeling there for years. A content sigh left your lips, in this moment you felt completely at bliss.

Luke’s hands, still working on your lower back, accidentally swipe under the towel laid over your bum. His brows furrow before he gasps quietly, realizing that you’re not wearing any underwear. You’d heard the gasp, but you weren’t quite sure why, so you ignored it. Little did you know, the only thing on Luke’s mind as he finished your massage, was that just underneath the towel you were completely bare.

You had similar thoughts on your mind, as his hands were rubbing your body, you could only think of them rubbing you somewhere else. The though alone ruined you, you knew you were soaked under the towel. You were just praying he wouldn’t notice. Or were you praying he would? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you needed to get home to take care of it.

Luke quickly finished up the rest of your massage in silence. Clasping his hands together as he finished.

“You are all good to go, Y/N. Thank you for coming here.” Luke said, as he smiled towards you. He quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

The floor felt strange on your feet as you placed your weight back on them. Being pampered while lying down had shifted your gravity a bit. Wow he really threw you out of it.

You put your clothes back on and walked out of the room towards the front, getting your wallet out. You had a spring to your step you didn’t have before.

“Someone’s seems satisfied.” The receptionist you had spoke with earlier chimed.

“Yeah, I’ve never felt this good before. I don’t know what he did, or how he did it, but I’m amazed.” You replied with a smile on your face, that you couldn’t take off even if you tried.

“That’s great, Y/N! I’m glad we could help.” The smile on her face seeming so kind and genuine. You quickly paid and left the building, getting into your car.

Driving home, you just noticed that you were much happier, just more comfortable, singing the lyrics of the song on the radio as loud as you could.

~

The rest of the weekend flew by, not only due to your chipper mood, but it mainly consisted of you just hanging around your apartment watching movies.

Walking into work Monday, it seemed everyone could tell you were in a better mood. Typically you would walk straight to your desk, head down. Today however, your head was up, giving smiles and greetings to everyone you passed. The confused looks they gave you went completely over your head, your mood not allowing the slightest negativity.

You saw Calum on your way and you immediately stopped, turning towards him.

“Calum! Oh my god, Luke was so good you have no idea. I feel so much better than I ever have. I can’t believe it. I’m in a-” The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you realized, causing Calum’s hands to shoot out to your shoulders.

“Woah, woah, slow down there. You wanna say that again?” He laughed.

“Okay,” You breathed. “Luke was amazing. I feel so much better than before, he’s so, so great. Wow.” You finished, letting out a breath at the end.

“You sure he just gave you a massage, Y/N?” He chuckled. A blush immediately coming up to your cheeks.

“Calum! Oh my god, just a massage, but you did not tell me he was going to be so fucking attractive, I damn near jumped his bones.”

“I’ll let him know.” He smirked, as you screeched out shocked.

“No, no, please don’t, please.” You pleaded, trying so hard to not let him embarrass you to the hottest guy in the world.

“Okay, okay, take it easy. I won’t. But I know what you mean, I always feel so great after one of his massages, it also doesn’t hurt that his receptionist is a total hottie.” Calum said, revealing his thoughts on the sweet lady you met a few days prior.

“How often do you go? I need to see him again.” You asked him, already planning a day that would work. Like tomorrow.

“I go usually 1-2 times a month, depending on how I’m feeling. Do you want me to set up another appointment for you?”

“Yes, please!” You thank him, turning to go to your desk to finally do some work.

~

It had continued like that for a few months, you getting a massage from Luke, and raving to Calum about it.

The massages as always, were amazing, any stress you had slipping away into nothing but content-ness. Yet there’s something there that you can’t quite put your finger on, a tension slightly sexual. Luke has made a point to swipe his hands underneath the towel every time he massaging your lower back, never failing to get you hot, and never failing to do nothing about it.

You figured he was too shy to do anything. You wished it’d change, but it didn’t.

You were due for another massage, your appointment being in about half an hour. You’ve been particularly sore lately, basically all over, but strangely, mainly your legs. You were still at work, actually, being too caught up to be able to stop at home and change your clothes. If these ones get stained so be it, you’re already running late as is. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you ran out of work, getting into you car and heading to your favourite man on earth.

Arriving with 10 minutes to spare, you run in noticing Katie, the receptionist, behind her desk as per usual.

“Hey Katie, I’m so sorry I’m almost late, but I’m good to fill in the form, I’ll do it quick.��� You rushed out obviously winded from your 30 second sprint.

“No worries Y/N, here’s the form, you know what to do.” She replied with a smile on her face. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen her without a smile. It suits her.

You did as you were told and sat down filling it out quick, noting that your legs were bugging you particularly, signing the bottom, and handing it back to Katie.

“Thanks Y/N, he’ll be right out.”

As if on queue, Luke strolled into the open area of the building, quickly glancing at you, before looking to Katie, just to do a quick double take back at you. You were not wearing the normal clothes you came in, no, not at all. You were wearing a tight black skirt, with an almost sheer dark green blouse tucked in, it complimented your eyes beautifully. Luke’s eyes racked up and down your body a few times, obviously shocked at how different, at how good you looked in professional clothing. He licked his lips, before softly biting the bottom one, so many thoughts coming to mind, just seeing the sleek heels you were wearing.

Smiling at him, you cleared your throat, like he did the first day you met, rising to your feet to follow him.

“Y-yeah, right this way Y/N.” Luke stuttered out, a bit embarrassed at his obvious ogling.

Yet, you followed him back to your usual room, doing the standard routine of taking off your clothes, even your underwear, as he stood outside.

Once you were ready and covered, Luke came in the room with the form you’d just filled out in his hands.

“So you mention your legs are bugging you recently? You haven’t said that before, what’s going on?” He asks quite professionally.

“Well, uh, they feel like they’re always flexed, I’m not sure. It just recently started happening. I was hoping you could help me out.” You answered, being a lot more comfortable to talk with him in here now. The past few months have definitely helped with that.

“For sure, Y/N, I’ll see what I can do.”

And he did. First starting with your back, because he was more familiar with the area, he quickly got through any sore areas you had. Not missing the little swipe of his hands under your towel. You wonder why he did that, but he knew what he was doing, it’s best not to ask. Besides, you loved the feel of his hands on you, so you really couldn’t complain.

Next, came your legs, which was new for you. Luke started at the bottom, working into your ankles and calves, immediately solving your issue.

“I think the muscles were just tense, felt as if they were constantly flexed. It’s different for your legs since you’re always on them. Also maybe you need a bit more potassium.” He sounded so smart when he spoke, fuck it turned you on.

Just Luke’s hands on your legs itself was completely different than your back, it felt like he was teasing you, just gently caressing your leg before he moves between your legs to claim what’s his.

Oh, god, you thought to yourself. You have to get it together.

But, as soon as his hands started moving upward, you couldn’t help it. The tender area of your thighs craved his touch. They were begging for it.

A certain area around your mid thigh, had been particularly tender though. Causing you to flinch when Luke touched it.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, obviously worried.

“Yeah, Luke, I’m good. Just was a bit tender, maybe just move past it.” You told him, getting an idea in your head.

“Okay, just let me know where it feels okay, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Of course, Luke.” You said, innocence coating your voice. Your thoughts were anything but.

Luke brought his hands back to your leg slightly above the area that you found tender.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly.

“It still hurts a bit, can you go higher?” You reply.

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his hands raise, getting closer and closer to your core.

“Here?” He asks again.

“Higher please.” No response, but you feel his hands moving up your leg. Your heart is beating so loud, you wonder if he can hear it.

“How about here?” His voice changes a bit, losing the professional tone, and developing something a little bit huskier.

“I’m sorry, Luke, it’s still a bit sore can you go a bit higher?” You ask even though his hands are so close to your pussy, you wouldn’t be surprised if he can feel the heat pulsing from it.

“You got it, Y/N.” He answers for once, his voice low and dripping with arousal.

Before you can question it, his hands in between your legs, swiping at your folds. He immediately starts pressing tight circles into your clit, using your arousal as lubricant. A moan ripping out of your throat at the sudden touch. Luke’s fingers sped up at the sound.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this why you wear no panties every fucking time? You’ve just been praying for me to play with your pussy, huh?” His lips are by your ear spitting these filthy words into them. “Y/N you’re fucking dripping, is it always like this?” You nod your head unable to answer vocally from the pleasure he’s giving to you.

Luke’s hands find your jaw and he life your head to look him in the eyes, “Answer me.” He demands. You don’t need to be told twice.

“Yes, Luke,” You cry out. “anytime your hands are on me, I’m soaked. I normally go home and deal with it there.” You found the words hard to say, having to moan a few times in between.

The thought of you touching yourself wrecks Luke. He groans into your ear, again. The sounds just making you wetter. He flips you onto your back and suddenly his presence is gone from your side, he dropped to his knees, hiking your legs on his shoulders. Luke’s eyes are fixed on your wet pussy, taking in the sight.

With a growl he dives in, giving a long flat lick on the length of your core, flicking the tip of his tongue once it reached your clit. You cry out, the sight, the pleasure being too much. Your hand finds his hair and you give a tug when he flicks his tongue again. He groans into your pussy at the feeling, making you moan with the vibrations.

Luke suddenly takes your clit into his mouth, sucking hard. You want to scream but the sound doesn’t even make it out, your mouth just dropped open, with your eyes shut tight.

You feel him give it a few more sucks, before he zigzags his tongue down towards your hole. You’re practically gasping for air at this point, your body not being used to receiving so much pleasure.

He straightens his tongue and pushes it inside thrusting it a few times. This time a moan leaves your lips, and it’s long and loud. Luke’s eyes snap up to yours, drinking in the sight of you naked, looking absolutely fucked out.

“You like that baby? Like my tongue in your pussy?” He coos with his mouth still pressed against your slit.

You can feel yourself growing close, the constant working of his tongue on you making your orgasm approach way faster than usual. His mouth attaches to your clit again giving the long hard sucks that have been driving you crazy. Luke’s hand makes its way to just above your mound and stretches his fingers till his thumb rests above your clit, and slowly pulls his thumb up, exposing your clit even more. You explode with pleasure, never feeling anything like this before, and when he grazes his teeth against your now exposed clit, your entire body freezes and you feel your orgasm hit you like a train. It starts in your toes sending shocks throughout your whole body, you could do nothing but whimper, and moan Luke’s name as your world was being changed.

As it started to die down, and it just felt really sensitive you had to pull Luke up to you, or else he wouldn’t have stopped. You latched your mouth onto his, not caring about the taste of you on his lips as you still tried to catch your breath.

Luke’s hand travelled to the back of your neck grasping you and pulling you in, demanding the kiss.

You pull apart for a second to gasp out, “Fuck, Luke, how the fuck can you do that?”

He just smirks at you and whispers in your ear, “my hands aren’t my only talent.”

You wasted no time taking his face in your hands and reconnecting your lips, finally getting to feel his lips, when they’re all you’ve been dreaming about for months now. He wasted no time bringing his tongue out and darting it across your bottom lip, you immediately open you mouth letting his tongue in, as he dominates your mouth, claiming it as his. You fought little for dominance, but he easily overpowered you and devoured the kisses you were giving him.

You had just now realize you were fully naked, while Luke was still fully clothed. You tugged at the bottom of his white shirt itching to get it off.

He realized what you were trying to do and pulled apart for only a second to rip it off and immediately take your face back in his hands and continue to give you the most dominating kiss you’ve ever experienced. Your hands trailed down to the waist of his jeans, wasting no time unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down. Luke surprisingly shook out of the pants without parting from you. Finally he took his lips off yours, just to trail them down your jaw to the side of your neck. He gave you open mouth hot kisses, before finding the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, and began to sink his teeth into your skin.

Your head rolled back so you were looking at the ceiling, trying to fathom how, shy, reserved Luke, was talking to you how he was, much less doing the things he was doing to you.

Once satisfied with his mark, Luke licked over the hickey and stepped back from you.

He looked you up and down with his dark eyes, breathing in heavily, taking you in.

Your eyes had trailed down his body, perfectly lean, and his dick, covered by his boxers, but it was begging to get out. You can see him straining against the material. Your mouth was watering at the sight.

Luke saw the look in your eyes and brought his hand to his waistband pulling them down with no hesitation.

Your jaw dropped, the view being too much.

“I wanna taste.” You begged, dying to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m gonna cum too fast if you do that, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, I’m gonna savour it.” Luke spoke, eyes fixed on the place between your legs.

“Fuck me, please.” You blurted out. Shocking both Luke and yourself.

“You’re so polite.” He spit out, mocking you, but you didn’t care. You needed him inside of you.

You grab his shoulders and pull him closer, your legs opening to fit him in. His tip brushed at your pussy, making you gasp.

Luke chuckled darkly, grasping his length and guiding it to your entrance. “You ready, love?”

“Yes, please, yes.” You pathetically begged, you don’t know what you’ll do if you don’t feel him inside of you soon.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait much longer. Luke lightly rubbed his cock up and down your slit coating himself in your arousal, before easily sliding inside of you.

The moans the 2 of you let out were in perfect harmony. Once fully in Luke gave you a second to adjust before pulling out nearly all the way and sliding himself back in.

“Oh my god, Luke, fuck.” You moaned out.

“Yeah, you’re taking my cock so well, love, so fucking well.” He choked out, the pleasure filling him just like he was filling you.

He wasted no time in setting a proper pace, pistoning his hips into yours again and again, filling you so deliciously with his thick cock. Luke grabbed one of your legs and threw it over his waist, the angle change causing a moan to rip out of your throat, the sounds music to his ears. He pumped himself in hard and fast, holding your hips like his life counted on it. You hoped there were bruises left, you need to have something to remember this by, something to prove it wasn’t all a dream.

His cock was constantly hitting your g-spot, giving you no chance of leaving here without coming twice.

Suddenly he pulled out.

“Get up, and turn around.” He demanded, giving you no room to argue, not that you’d want to.

You quickly rose to your feet, and turned around, placing your hands, and laying on the massage table. You felt Luke press against the back of your legs before you felt his cock at your entrance again, he slid in once again, though this time not giving any time to adjust. You didn’t want it anyways.

Luke once again set a quick pace, leaving you breathless. You needed his dick inside of you at all times, he felt too fucking good.

You felt his hand slide up your back and grab your shoulder for leverage. Just the feeling of his hand on you caused another moan to leave your mouth.

“Fuck, I need you closer to me.” He spoke between grunts before you felt the hand on your should travel to your stomach to pull you up, so your back was against his chest.

“You’re so fucking deep.” You whimpered out, not believing how deep you can feel him.

His thrusts started back up and you nearly blacked out at the feel of it, every thrust was a constant jab at your g-spot, bringing your second orgasm of the night closer and closer.

“Oh my Y/N, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me, I can feel you fucking clenching fuck,” He growled after a particularly hard thrust had you clamp down on him. Your head was going dizzy from the pleasure, “you gonna come? Gonna come all over my cock?”

You can hear the taunt in his voice but you couldn’t do anything but moan, or scream his name, and a few hard thrusts later, all of which hitting your g-spot with a force that had you shaking, your orgasm had hit you. Full fucking force. You screamed his name out and clenched so tight around him, he almost couldn’t move, ripping the orgasm out of Luke.

“Yes Y/N, just like that, fuck, oh my, fuck, yes.” He moaned.

His thrusts sloppy, he milked both of your orgasms, until you couldn’t take it. Luke pulled his softening cock out of you, and moved to grab a few tissues to help clean you up.

After wiping up the mess he helped you get dressed, both of you not saying anything quite yet.

The silence only lasted a few moments longer before Luke opened his mouth, “Holy shit.”

“I agree. Holy shit.” You added.

You both looked at each other and a few giggles escaped you, as he questioningly looked at you, joining you not long after. The two of you just enjoyed the afterglow of your mind shattering orgasms, and you just enjoyed each other. Knowing this was the start of something wonderful.

[ambidexterous-lesbian]

A different approach to gender

Hi, here is the low-down on who I am and why I’m posting this: I’m a 22 year old trans woman from North Carolina. I grew up in a backwards ass town, and I got into philosophy when I was about 15. When I was 20, I had several things happen (life events, surfacing memories) that lead me to the conclusion that I was transgender. I’ve been in transition since then, and the whole time I have searched for some sort of philosophical justification about why I am this way. Why it is that I can have this identity, and it be respected. I’ve been through all the iterations of transpolitics, talked to other trans people, talked to GC feminist, and turned ideas over again and again in my head. Ultimately I don’t aim to invalidate anyone, in fact the opposite is true. We, the trans community, aim to welcome and validate all identities, and yet, the current state of discourse is appalling. We’re arguing left and right, and the thing that we all want to believe, that we are all valid, often gets fucked and twisted by the people who stand against us. It is truly my belief that this is because the most progressive policy (that people simply *are* what they identify as) has no philosophical backbone. So, this post is going to try to take you through my own reasonings on the matter, and how I did in fact arrive at the conclusion that people are what they say they are.

### Part One: The Female Brain/Soul or some other shit

When I first came out, I latched onto the classic narrative of being “trapped in the wrong body” it was simple, it was to the point, and it provided a since of validity by staking some claim that gender exist in the soul. Now there are other variations of this stance, some of which argue the same from a biological stand point. Regardless, most of these views break down into some kind of essentialist thinking. In my case, I believed I was a woman, on some plane of existence was my soul, and that was the soul of a woman, but what does that even mean? What are the essential qualities of womanhood? Was it the fact that I liked doing dishes? That I saw myself as weak? Or was it that I liked to be held? I do not see how any answer to that question doesn’t harken back to the olden days where white men wrote books about “the fragility of womanhood”.

Now, there are other issues here. For example, let us say that sometime in the next few years I reexamine my life and come to the conclusion that all this trans shit was hogwash and detransition. I wouldn’t be the first, and I wouldn’t be the last. Hypothetically, every trans person could come to the conclusion that they were wrong about their identity, and change it. They apply some other label to themselves then what they currently use, and hell every cis perosn could do the same and become trans. Here is what I know, I spent twenty years shamelessly living as a man. For a lot of that time I was happy, and I was secure in my identity. Now, because I identify as a woman *now*, some trans activist will argue that I was ALWAYS a woman, and therefore invalidate my identity as a man. Alternatively I could start identifying as non-binary, by doing that do I retroactively invalidate myself as a woman? Is the conclusion to be drawn that I was just trying to figure things out? Now, all of these are possibilities, so how is it that we can make the assertion that the “X is a Y” in any immutable sense? We simply can’t.

There are also some arguments in this vain that propose that there is some inherent biological thing that makes one trans. Conveniently, this mystical structure has yet to be identified. Even if it was I find it hard to believe that the trans community will accept it, because inevitably someone, lacking in the component, will identify as trans, and then we’d make up some other reason as to why they’re valid. So, here’s the skinny: arguing that transness, or gender, is anything more than something socially constructed has some pretty terrible implications. Either it breaks down into something sexist, or some kind of unenforceable gate keepery that we have fought so hard against.

### Part Two: Whateverism and Performativity

Performativity is a school of thought that was originally presented by Judith Butler in 1991, the basic premise being this: Gender exist as a set of socially constructed roles and expectations, and ones gender is determined by how they fit into and fill those roles. When co-opted by trans people though, this creates a bit of an issue. A trans woman is only valid assuming she fills the societal ideal of womanhood, thus reinforcing the sexist ideas found in that ideal. Meaning that when asking a trans woman why she is a woman, she parrots back all these sexist ideas about fragility, and daintiness, it is because, according to this paradigm, that is what being a woman is.

There are a lot of trans people that recognise the sexism here, and the fact that it invalidates many trans people who fail to live up to a societal ideal, as well as non-binary individuals. Because of this, there is a new school of thought that I've dubbed whateverism. This is the one that makes little sense to most people. The idea that it's whatever, that it doesn't matter what people wear or look like, but simply that they say they are a thing and are therefore a thing. This is the one I take the most issue with, because as of right now it exist as a liberal attempt to be all inclusive, and in doing so renders language almost entirely meaningless. This is the school of thought that 52 genders exist in, not as 52 cumulative categories and sub-categories, but as a multitude of distinct separate entities. This is the biggest divide among trans individuals right now, and for that reason it is what I'd like to argue for.

### Part Three: Pragmatism

There is a school of epistemological thought known as pragmatism. It preaches that a thing is true if it is beneficial to consider that thing true. The best example of it being used is in the field of psychology. A person is not schizophrenic because of some inherent brain issue, or because they simply present the symptoms of schizophrenia, rather they are schizophrenic because they do have a set of experiences, and it is *beneficial* to consider them schizophrenic. Put another way: We label someone as schizophrenic because it allows us to contextualise their experience a certain way, an prescribe treatment based on that experience.

In the same way, gender exist as a framework through which we contexualise our experience, it is a tool that provides us with a way of understanding ourselves. Most of us have had that framework handed to us at birth, and conditioned to think and behave in a way that conforms to the behaviours and experiences in societies framework of that gender. Now, I'm not arguing that this isn't bad, or that society wouldn't be better off without it, instead I am simply saying that everyone, trans and cis alike, uses the framework of gender to think about themselves. Some people are able to overcome the worse aspects of whichever set of ideas they've been handed, and some people are not. For some people the act of labeling themselves non-binary, allows them to think of themself outside of the shitty framework they've been handed. This is the source of all the female non-binaries, of all the people who choose this label and profess themselves to be enby, without changing much about their presentation or physiology.

So, it's obvious that I agree that gender is bullshit, that it's a made up thing that is oppressive, and yet I still identify as a woman, and see my identity as valid. The reason being is that for some reason, the framework of masculinity is not something I can overcome. Maybe it's because I like to wear dresses, maybe it's because I like dick and harbour some internalised homophobia, but ultimately it doesn't matter because it is healthier for me to identify as a woman, that identity conflicts less with the person I find myself to be, and all the hormones and the dress-up serve to validate that view of myself, and put me in a better state for fighting the oppression that all of us face under gender.

[toxicpineapple]

is there a specific reason u dont like oumota?? or do u just Dislike it

oh boy anon you’re really gonna have me go into that kinda conversation alright... i guess it’s no secret that oumota is my least favourite pairing, so i don’t mind talking about it. all that aside please keep in mind that these are my opinions and i have a lot of respect for people who ship any pairing (aside from the problematic ones, obviously, pro-ship dni) and i have zero desire to start any fights with anybody.

i’ve never been a fan of enemies-to-lovers as a trope. i think it’s good to start there. one of my earliest fandoms was the death note fandom, and there was a LOT of lawlight (l x light) content. still is, i’m sure, i just haven’t been by the fandom in a while. i just, i absolutely hated it. i was in fifth grade at the time so i was a bit... oblivious, to chemistry between characters as a whole, but also, it just didn’t make any sense to me! they hated each other! why would you think that’s a good relationship! light LITERALLY wanted l dead and i’m not gonna say any spoilers in case i have followers who haven’t seen the show yet but the way things go down... it just didn’t make sense to me. there was the homoerotic foot rubbing scene, of course, and l tells light that they’re friends, but light was being ACTIVELY MANIPULATIVE the entire time. i didn’t see why people would want to ship people who are enemies. i couldn’t wrap my head around it.

after being in fandom for a bit longer, i think i’ve managed to figure it out, lol. i am (and will always be) of the belief that any pairing can be done well, given enough time and attention. (again aside from the problematic ones i’m not here to engage with incest or pedophilia okay that shit is nasty and i don’t need your “it’s fiction!” bull that kind of mindset perpetuates abuse.) if you can sell me on it, then damn, sure, i’ll be into it. i’m still not big on enemies-to-lovers, that fifth grade mindset of “it’s so weird to ship people who hate each other” hasn’t really gone away, but i’m open to it. if you can sell it, i’ll buy it! that kind of thing.

i still prefer friends-to-lovers though. in the danganronpa fandom, i’ve always prefered naegiri and hinanami over naegami and komahina. (oumasai and saimota are the exception, i go back and forth on them but ultimately i love them equally, ouma being my favourite antag and all) i just think that positive interactions are healthier, and communication is easier when you’re not at each other’s throats all the time. this is obviously my opinion, subject to debate and all that, yadda yadda yadda. i’ll take shy smiles across the breakfast table over homoerotic pauses in the middle of arguments any day of the week.

i think you’re starting to get the reason why oumota isn’t my cup of tea. still, i like naegami and komahina, like, a LOT. enough that i would write them on my own time, extensively, just because i feel like it. there are pairings where i wouldn’t be so willing, where i’d just shrug and do it if requested but ultimately keep to my side of the playground. even if i don’t immediately jump to shipping people who dislike each other, that doesn’t mean i should have an avid hate for this pairing! so what gives?

it comes down to this, anon: ouma and momota HATE each other in canon. with a lot of enemies-to-lovers things, there’s like, a brief moment of mutual appreciation to give people steam. byakuya and makoto have that!!! byakuya is there to help makoto as much as he can after their killing game, and from post-chapter four onwards byakuya is unreservedly on makoto’s side. they work together!!!! at the end of the game byakuya says he’ll help if people need it!!!!! (through the byakuya translator ofc.) and then he DOES!!!!!!! he went into the neo-world program to help makoto!!!

and komahina has that too!!! all of chapter one, for example? nagito’s ftes? at the end of nagito’s ftes hajime starts to really, truly understand why nagito is the way he is. he doesn’t agree with his actions but he gets it! and he feels BAD for him!! so bad that nagito lies and says what he’s been talking about didn’t really happen. not to mention 2.5, and post-canon, all the potential for slowburn while the remnants are living together on jabberwock island.... they make me soft.

saiouma has that too, i mean, i wouldn’t call saiouma enemies-to-lovers necessarily if only because shuichi is so passive for most of the game, but they have those, like, those small moments. ouma calls shuichi his beloved, and i do believe his behaviour in chapter four was just manipulation, but still, y’know, he was flirting. ouma’s love hotel shows that shuichi is LITERALLY his ideal, and shuichi puts up with all these death threats and games throughout ouma’s ftes in an attempt to understand him-- the final fte is so sweet, how shuichi bandages his finger after he cuts himself.... pique chaotic dumbass energy but they’re adorable as hell.

and i’m sorry to say this, but in my opinion and as far as i can remember... oumota...... doesn’t have that. not once does either ouma or momota show anything but cool distaste for one another. momota PUNCHES OUMA IN THE FACE in chapter four, which is the first real time you see the two of them like.... interacting? (aside from kaito begrudgingly, secretly agreeing with kokichi about people watching the motive videos, but that’s not shipping fuel imo.) and it only gets worse from there. throughout chapter four kokichi goads kaito, trying to pick at his insecurities-- not to mention he tries to get closer to shuichi, someone who kaito has been very close to this entire time!!! he insists that shuichi investigate with him, rather than with kaito, and keeps egging him on throughout the entire trial, mocking him and praising shuichi, the like. and after the trial kokichi PUNCHES KAITO IN THE STOMACH!!! AND KAITO HAS A COUGHING FIT SO BAD HE FALLS TO HIS KNEES!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! sorry i’m trying not to be akdljflk about this it just... gah. i dunno. ouma absolutely SLAUGHTERS kaito and shuichi’s relationship, deliberately picking at kaito’s insecurities in order to tear down the group as a whole, and i just... it rubs me the wrong way.

chapter five is even worse for me. i know it’s like the biggest shipping fuel people have for them, and i,,, i get it? it’s poetic, the villain and the hero, these two purple dudes who represent opposing ideals, in this scandalous romance behind the exisal or whatever. i just can’t with it, though.

let’s talk about what ouma does to kaito in chapter five :)

-he knocks him out with an exisal and takes him hostage -he sends all his friends (except maki, beautiful, erratic maki) into a DEPRESSION so that the audience will get bored and stop watching the killing game -sorry i already said this but he KIDNAPS KAITO!! HE KIDNAPS HIM!!!! AND TRAPS HIM IN THE EXISAL HANGAR!!!! -he forces kaito to be indebted to him by pretending to drink the antidote and then giving it to him -he THREATENS MAKI!! HE THREATENS HER LIFE!!! IF KOKICHI DIES MAKI WILL BE EXECUTED AS THE BLACKENED AND KAITO KNOWS THIS!!!! i don’t care if you ship momoharu those two had A relationship regardless of whether you saw it was romantic or platonic and kaito cared about her??

he essentially held both maki and kaito hostage and BLACKMAILED kaito into going along with his plan. at the end of the chapter five trial kaito states that he went along with it because he thought it was brilliant, not because kokichi threatened maki, but i still just... it kind of horrifies me.

(i want to be perfectly clear that i LOVE kokichi ouma, he’s a brilliantly morally ambiguous character who did a bunch of fucked up things to try to achieve a noble cause and in no way is this me shitting on him, i’m just saying that given the things kokichi did to kaito i just, can’t get behind it.)

i should also address that even after kokichi did all that, even started BREAKING DOWN in the exisal hangar, kaito maintained that kokichi was a bastard who was difficult to understand. kokichi was being perfectly clear about his intentions. he wanted to end the killing games. i don’t think he ever wanted anything else, in the game. after all of that, for some reason, kaito still just didn’t get it. and i don’t think it’s because kaito is stupid-- kaito is NOT stupid, as funny as the memes are-- i just think that he was genuinely unwilling to try to understand kokichi ouma. he was sympathetic towards a lot of people. shuichi and maki and kaede and gonta and all of them. but he just, he didn’t like ouma. and i feel as though (this is just my speculation so don’t take this as anything real) kokichi never held anything towards kaito except resentment, either. because here’s this THICK DUMBASS who is ruining EVERYTHING that he’s trying to work towards-- not only that, but everyone absolutely adores him, the one thing that kokichi can not, no matter what, hope to achieve. because in order for his plan to work, he needs them to hate him.

all this is canon-compliant, though. i think ouma would’ve been a lot more mild in a non-despair au. i still don’t like the pairing in any aus though, regardless. i just don’t feel like they have the right kind of chemistry. ouma is, he’s like, he’s childish! he likes picking at people, trying to get reactions out of them. y’know who’s easy to get reactions out of? kaito. and not because he’s some funny stupid man, because he has CRIPPLINGLY LOW SELF ESTEEM. kaito is DEADASS afraid of ghosts and i know it’s a funny haha but he nearly shits himself whenever they’re so much as mentioned and ouma is the type of person who would just continue to bring them up to get the reaction out of him. it’s like shipping hiyoko and mikan, y’know? mikan gives hiyoko the reactions she wants and mikan takes it because she’s desperate for attention of any kind. they both feed into each other’s worst tendencies. kaito is easily challenged. all you have to do is imply he’s not a man and he’ll do whatever you want. that’s not HEALTHY!! and ouma would take advantage of it. not because he’s a bad person, but just because, he like,,, he messes around and he takes things too far because he’s a child and he hasn’t seen any real repercussions. that’s what i believe.

this is more of a petty, unrelated reason, but i also used to follow this really annoying oumota shipper who was constantly shoving the pairing down everyone’s throat and absolutely slaughtering kaito’s characterisation in the meantime. in a lot of fics i read before becoming actively against it, i saw ouma being a sniveling crybaby, totally unable to defend himself from anything, and kaito being this callous asshole who was mean to everyone but ouma. i just, i don’t see it? and then maki is always portrayed as so abusive, threatening and hurting ouma all over the place because kaito likes him and not her and shuichi is borderline obsessive if not outright creepy, either jealous of kaito or kokichi because there’s no grey area with these people, and they just, they make shuichi and maki so unsupportive and mean and i just... i don’t like it, not at all. the fastest way to make me hate a thing is by vilifying my favourite characters.

sorry for the long answer, anon. i know i have followers who like oumota, and i respect you for it! it’s just a MAJOR squick for me and i try not to engage with it if i can avoid it! thanks for the question!

[dwindlingashesburnt]

Undertale ideas

...I don't generally like angst, but a majority of Undertale angst seems to centre around Sans in some way, the concept of resets or of genocide routes, or of one of the people capable of resets going "ahahahah no consequences I can do whatever evil things I like and you can't stop me!!!"

Well

I'd like to propose a different variation for undertale angst - namely someone capable of resets going "oh fuck oh no there's no consequences oH FUCK HELP ME"

I mean.

Think about it.

All three capable of resets - Chara, Frisk and Flowey - have every single basic rule for life on Earth flung out the window, and are then told on top of that "btw no consequences for you, lol". Are they going to say "hell yeah, sweet"? Nope.

They're going to freak the fuck out. The fundamentals of how they understand the universe have just been torn out from under them - they're KIDS, they haven't made their own rules for their worldview yet, not really, they just have the fundamentals.

Think about those fundamentals:

What comes up, must go down, everything falls -> uh yeah gravity magic exists so that immediately goes out the window

What happens, happens, time cannot be rewritten -> ...resets.

There will be some form of consequence or reaction for every action taken -> ...well kind of a bit, but resets ultimately mean it doesn't make any difference, there are no TRUE consequences which means it likely very quickly fewla like there are none true or technical

For Chara and Frisk specifically, magic breaks the laws of physics, as does stuff like the snow in Snowdin, the whole concept of intent causing harm an of SOULs existing is also likely to rip the floor out from under their feet. I know most of this would be somewhat old news for Chara but I'm thinking it may end up being the straw that breaks the camel's back type thing

For Chara and Flowey specifically, their very existence is now likely to tear a pretty huge gap in their worldview. Flowey is now FLOWEY the flower, has no soul, potentially has his magic messed up due to the different form and or soul issues, does he even need to eat as a flower? Does he need sunlight, hell, does he photosynthesise? What about Chara - the fuck, how are they even existing? How if at all are they linked to Frisk? Were they aware since their death? Do they know anything about Frisk?

Further point for Chara and Flowey -> how much time, if any, has passed since the last time they were aware? Is the Underground drastically different to what they remember? What about their brief trip to the surface, when compared to Frisk and or Frisk's experiences??

Frisk specifically-> HUGE UNDERGROUND with MONSTERS and MAGIC and hoooollly shhiiiiittt what. Shouldn't that fall have killed them?

All -> the concept or lack thereof of an afterlife is probably a pretty huge knock to their worldview too

So now you must imagine these kids, who have had everythig and anything they could base their understanding, predictions, actions or reactions on, torn out from under them, leaving them completely lost and probably extremely panicked. Oh, they also have literally no idea what's happening....unnnntil they do, ok, they now have a huge amount of power that doesn't really help them at all with little knowledge to back it up and NO GROUNDRULES to guide them

Like this post sucks so bad compared to the idea in my head but like. I'm imagining Flowey and Papyrus getting on well because Flowey came up with his own rules to replace the usual gravity and time and consequences...But they don't make that much sense, his rules, however Flowey has made em a fundamental part of his worldview so anytime he sees them violated it sends him right off the deep emd, flailing as the world is again pulled out from under him, often resulting in panic, and or anger, and or violence. But he gets on well with Papyrus because Papyrus is very good at figuring out the fundamental rules of Flowey's worldview, and then operating within those rules - meaning he is one of few or perhaps the only person whom Flowey doesn't inevitably get distressed spending time with

I'm also imagining that Chara and Frisk very notavly don't make their own rules, but stubbornly cling to what should be their foundation but no longer is. This results in them taking a rather short route to a rapidly impeding breakdown as they frantically keep trying to prove the usual rules in any way they can. They try good consequences for their actions at first, but that doesn't really work out too well, and they can't figure out how to get out from the Underground so they inevitably get killed and end up resetting no matter what they do (meaning no sense of permanancy can be added to the other issues), so instead they start gradually doing things that SHOULD have worse and worse consequences. But they don't, not really. For one thing, it can be undone in a blink of an eye, for another...Well. There's no real consequence for Toriel or amy of the unnamed monsters anywhere in game. You don't find out the consequences for Papyrus' death until much later - late enough that it probably no longer feels like a connected sequence of events to these two kids who went throygh who knows how many resets getting from a to b anywsy - and Papyrus certainly doesn't hint at any consequences himself. He forgives them - who wants to bet that feels more like a slap to the face than anything else, to these two increasingly hysterical children who are starting to feel the world isn't quite real, they aren't quite real, none of it matters because no matter what they do they're not meeting any real consequences...

Imagine when Sans pretends to offer mercy. Imagine the kid(s) feel a dull roaring in their ears, because just when it seemed like they'd finally met some sort of consequence...Imagine them sprinting up to Sans with renewed fury as what's left of the two kid's sanity splinters along with the last remains of any solid worldview. Imagine they finally manage to kill Sans and sort of go into shock for a minute, because no. Nononono that wasn't supposed to happen, he said that was the consequences, that was no real consequence, what are they supposed to...

They don't care what the consequence is at this point, just something real and solid that proves that their actions affect things in the world and have been acknowledged felt and witnessed by other real living people.

Imagine Chara, in a fit of dark humour, asks Frisk, wheezing between paindul laughter as they demand to know "Do you think you are above consequences?"

Frisk can't breathe for a moment. They gasp, their breath hitches. A "Yes" escapes and then a child or two is half laughing, half crying, absolutely hysterical as they rock, trying to comfort themselves and each other. Neither of them notice until a good twenty minutes later that a near constant mantra of "yes yes I am we are above consequences yesyesyes there are no consequences none yesyesyes we are above, we are, oh god please help, helpmehelpmehelpus, yes, yes, yes" has barely stopped since Chara asked that question. They think, or would have, if either of them could think anywhere near coherently, that they may have had a bit of a panic attack there. Just a bit. They have no idea how long they were freaking out for - they try to check, turns out it was a couple of hours. They thought it was ten minutes.

IMAGINE THEY HAVE ENOUGH POWER TO ERASE THE WORLD they don't, but only because of the same type of mental block that stops you crunching your finger like a carrot. the realisation that they have that option, however, sends them into a near catatonic state for the equivalent of hours (saves and resetsare screwy). Then one or both of them decides now would be a good time to reset

IMAGINE THESE TWO KIDS GOING ON A COMPLETE GENOCIDAL RUN AND THEN FACING EVERY SINGLE PERSON THEY SLAUGHTERED AND WERE SLAUGHTERED BY, AS THOUGH NOTHING HAPPENED

imagine what that does a the psyche of these two kids who aint even 18 and quite possibly arent even teens?

Imagine Sans and or Papyrus thinking they're stuck in this hell of resets. Imagine Sans, determined that there is his friend, and there is the evil anomoly.

Imagine the people in control of those resets being as much if not more of a victim than the rest. Imagine Sans coming across a hysterical child having a fit of emotion and fear that mostly involves screaming and crying or laughing a lot and breaking things, because why not? It's not like they'll face any consequences for it.

Sans eventually figures out what's wrong with Chara and Frisk, very roughly anyway, and immediately goes...Ohhhhhh. Shit. Fuck. Fuckityfuckfuckfuck.

Papyrus is mildly bewildered by Flowey suddenly mildly changing his rules upon Frisk falling into the Underground and taking the reset option from him. Maybe Papyrus tries to guide Flowry to a healthier mindset or get him to a therapist, and instead ends up in a whole load of trouble. Flowey is concerningly dpendent on him and they're both feeling the strain

Just...just imagine the possibilities, yaknow?

I just think "oh fuck, no consequences" has pretty great angst potential. At LEAST as much as "oh yeah, no consequences" has

[enneagramspam]

ISABEL LOVELACE

8w7

“Don't die. Be a big girl, and don't die.“

Isabelle Lovelace is a textbook Eight; as a Captain, she is authoritative, resourceful and strong-willed, but also prone to domineering and confrontational behaviour. Upon her return to the Hephaestus, she demonstrates the ruthless, authoritarian streak of a deeply disintegrated Eight, but over the course of the series she is able to integrate back into a healthier Eight, a heroic figure who is genuinely able to protect her crew. 

Basic Fear: Of being harmed or controlled by others

“Oh, I'm not following one of your orders? Gee, must be Monday…”

In comparison with the rest of the cast, who grow to reasonably distrust Goddard after betrayal, Lovelace has never been good with authority of any kind; it’s simply a facet of her personality. This is made clear in Greensboro;

“There's been times when I haven't seen eye-to-eye with my superior officers. Like all those times they gave me stupid orders. On those occasions, I was inclined to carry out my orders with a bit of... creativity.”

Lovelace remains her own ultimate authority, following orders only when they suit her, and as such, she is not truly beholden to them at all. Interestingly, there are pages of glowing testimonials from those who served under Lovelace, while those above her in the chain of command found her to be disobedient and punished her as a result; being a good leader and a bad follower isn’t at all uncommon for an Eight. 

Lovelace takes great pride in her independence, and expresses contempt for those that, in her eyes, allow themselves to be controlled, particularly her rules-obsessed second in command Officer Lambert, who effectively represents this basic fear- she calls him “an asinine teacher’s pet,” and repeatedly admonishes him for a lack of “a mind of his own,” even ridiculing him in front of the rest of her crew. Lambert is in fact the perfect foil to Lovelace, because while he is endlessly obedient to Goddard, he repeatedly undermines her, as Hilbert observes;

“You are perhaps needing someone who... questions superior officer? Who does not immediately do what is told? Who will fight for what they think is right way of doing job?”

Taking all this into account, it’s no wonder Lovelace dislikes Lambert so much when he both represents the control she so fears and the disobedience she cannot tolerate. The anger he provokes causes her to slip into the role of the intimidating Eight, which causes some friction with the rest of her crew, who describe her as “scary,” and observe that her personality is fundamentally combative; “she’d be bored without something to fight against.”  

Lovelace’s preoccupation with control is part of the reason that her discovery that she is an alien replica of her previous self subject to the whims of the aliens who created her is so distrubing for her- this is the avenue the habitually manipulative Kepler takes to try and unsettle her, preying on her basic fear;

“Are you sure that it's you that made the choice? Less than two days ago you were speaking words that weren't your own. … Maybe they're always in control, and they've made it so you can't tell. What if everything you think you're doing for yourself is just our friends out there pulling strings? What if your thoughts aren't your own?”

For Lovelace to even admit that this bothers her is difficult; Eights natrual tendency is to avoid vulnerability. It’s not until her control is completely taken away when she is trapped in a time loop orchestrated by the same aliens in Out of the Loop, driving her to disintegration and essentially forcing her to do so in the hopes of moving on.

“I - I'm sorry. I... Maybe Kepler's right. Maybe I'm not in control of what I'm doing.”

Ultimately, Lovelace is forced to live her basic fear, again and again, to begin to overcome it. Her arc culminates in her worst possible scenario- Cutter, the manifestation of the insidious control she has been raging against throughout the series, gaining direct control of her by manipulating the psi-waves that affect her alien physiology;

“If you have enough psi-waves in the air … you can control all sorts of things. What do you think, Isabel? Pretty neat, isn't it?”

Lovelace can’t wrest herself from Cutter’s control entirely- she shoots Minkowski, and is unable to fire at Cutter. She is, however, able to distract him for long enough for Minkowski to kill him. Not only is this a direct confrontation of Lovelace’s basic fear, with her being forced to accept that sometimes the situation is out of her control, this scene forces her to eschew her basic desire, and instead, rely on someone else to protect her; as an Eight, this is the logical conclusion to her arc.

Basic Desire: To protect themselves (to be in control of their own life

and destiny)

“There’s something I needed to remind myself of. That you're not just what you were made. That you can grow. At least... when you assholes don't interfere.”

Repeatedly, Lovelace cannot stand seeing others allowing their destiny to be decided for them- even when she particularly dislikes the person in question. When Eris announces her intention to self destruct on behalf of Goddard, she is furious;

“You can't just let these people delete you! You should fight this! ...Just because someone made you something doesn't mean that's all you're going to be. You can be more.”

She reacts similarly, if far more explosively when Hilbert is unfazed upon discovering that Goddard were planning on betraying him;

“What... the hell... is wrong with you? (BEAT) I will never understand you. How are you not angry? How are you not revoltingly angry? They were going to leave you up here. To rot … Listen to me, you despicable waste of a soul: that's not how you react to this. Humanity 101: when someone lies to you, when someone betrays you, when they leave you to die, alone, in the cold, you DO NOT FIND IT PERFECTLY EQUITABLE! You get angry, and you do whatever you have to in order to show them they have made the worst mistake of their lives. It doesn't matter what you have to give up, who you have to hurt, how far you have to go -”

Indeed, Lovelace goes to every length to be the one in control of her own destiny and to protect herself and those that she cares about. Aside from her dead man’s switch, there’s her response to Kepler’s game of “eeny-meeny,” when he is deciding who to shoot in Desperate Measures- she interrupts him with a “fuck you,” and then proceeds to insult him and spit at him. What could be mistaken, though, for an outburst of pure aggression and resentment is clearly shown to be an attempt to deliberately provoke him and thus control the situation in the only way she can, and an attempt to protect Eiffel; 

EIFFEL: “Captain... why did you - you didn't have to - 

LOVELACE: “Yes, I did. I did. It's fine.”

She smiles at him. Sadly. 

Inaction- and particularly, feeling helpless- drives Lovelace to distraction. She’s desperate to try to take control of the situation in Pan-Pan, repeatedly dismissing Minkowski’s plan to make a distress call, “The only way we're going to get off this station is if we do it ourselves.” On the other side of things, Lovelace’s mini episode, Greensboro, is markedly different from those for each other character. Critically, she doesn’t interact with Cutter, who has a pattern of exploiting the cast’s basic fears, and in reflection of this, it’s her basic desires that Rachel, who is interviewing her, praises and tempts her with;

“You. Deep space. Mission command. You've got … Glowing recommendations from practically everyone you've given an order to. And when you're multiple light years away from your superiors? It's probably good to have someone who can think for themselves.”

It’s easy to understand why Goddard took this unique approach with Lovelace specifically; threatening to control her would result in automatic pushback and rebellion from her, whereas promising her a degree of the control that she so craves was the perfect way to ensure that she agreed to work with them. 

Disintegration to Five:

“I invented being paranoid on this station.”

Enneagram Institute describes deeply disintegrated Eights’ actions as “vengeful, barbaric, murderous.” This is particularly true of Lovelace- the first time she flees the Hephaestus, she leaves behind a message promising to exact revenge against Goddard:

“So if you're listening to this: Run. And. Hide. Because by the time that I'm done you will feel more helpless and more alone than all the innocent people you've ever hurt. See you soon.”

Like an unhealthy Five, she is secretive and fearful, leaving her paranoid. She initially admits to turning on Hilbert without proper cause;  “I was so paranoid by that point, I think I would have turned on anyone who was with me.” This indiscriminate destructiveness is a hallmark of a disintegrated Eight, and when Minkowski confirms, “You attacked him?” Lovelace simply answers, “Best defence.” She goes on;

“I figured it was just a matter of time before he tried to kill me. So I incapacitated him and I ran. I got on the ship we'd constructed and left him behind. (beat) Not my proudest moment.”

Her violence continues when she returns to the Hephaestus- pouncing on Hilbert on sight, choking him and bashing his head against a wall. Like an unhealthy Five, she is suspicious and information obsessed- planting a gun with a hidden listening device so that she can eavesdrop on Minkowski and Eiffel. 

In addition, Enneagram Institute says of disintegrated Eights, “If they get in danger, they may brutally destroy everything that has not conformed to their will rather than surrender to anyone else.” This repeatedly holds true of Lovelace;

““I hope you don't think we'd go down without a fight.”

Indeed, she threatens to invoke the “Taking You With Me,” trope on multiple occasions, to the point that it becomes something of a running joke for her; 

“Believe me, kids, right now I'm up for killing everything and everyone on this boat.” 

Perhaps the most serious example, though, is the explosive she wires to activate should her heart stop or increase too much which she reveals in the episode aptly named Mutually Assured Destruction, a failsafe she describes, unfeelingly, as “insurance.” When Minkowski doubts her, “You’d be killing yourself. I don’t buy it,” Lovelace simply answers; “Then you’ve never been as scared as I have.” This neatly demonstrates Lovelace’s complete unwillingness to surrender or be subjugated, willing to completely self destruct in order to avert this outcome. Additionally, she uses this threat as a means of seizing control of the station, becoming the ruthless, dictatorial disintegrated Eight;

“There's a new sheriff in town, and I am not taking suggestions, complaints, or objections. Here’s what’s going to happen… Whatever game Command is playing with this station is over. Welcome to my Cold War, kids. Fasten your seat belts, stay out of the way, and don’t try me. Any questions?” 

Integration to Two:

“I realized something. The whole epic rampage of revenge thing? Isabel Lovelace wouldn't do that. The terrible wretch that you people made Isabel Lovelace into? Oh, she'd do that. But... I'm not going to be that person anymore. (BEAT) I'm going to be Isabel Lovelace again. Even if I never have before.” 

When integrated, Lovelace’s has the sincere care for those around her of a healthy Two, using her own strength of character to support them. A good example of this is when she quite generously agrees to take over for Minkowski when she feels unable to command the station. It’s significant that Minkowski convinces her by appealing to her own respect and need for control;

“ I... I did what I did because I lost control. And until I get it back, I don't think my hands are the best ones for this crew to be in.”

Also notably, Lovelace is demonstrably reluctant to take control, establishing it only happens, “on the very clear understanding that this is a temporary situation, and that [she is] going to sort [her]self out and kick [her] out of [her] chair ASAP.” This Lovelace, genuinely looking forward to ceding control to a person she respects and trusts, is a far cry from the control obsessed woman she is introduced as. Additionally, she uses her strong authority with the goal of actually meeting the needs of her entire crew- for instance, in Theta Scenario;

LOVELACE: “I'm not making that call for everyone. We're voting, and we're not doing anything until we have a unanimous decision.”

EIFFEL: “Fine, lets v-”

LOVELACE: “No. We're not gonna make an informed decision until we know as much as we can about what the hell has been going on here.”

EIFFEL: “Why?”

LOVELACE: “Because I'm the Captain, that's why. That call I will make.”

As aforementioned, Lovelace is also able to depend on Minkowski during her most dire moments during the finale. Early in the series, Lovelace clearly felt that it was her destiny to personally take revenge on Cutter on behalf of her crew, with her promising that outcome to him as an inevitability;

“I'm going to really mess you up someday. You know that, right?”

Allowing Minkowski to be the one to take him down instead is a subtle but incredibly important demonstration of her growth- she thoughtlessly sacrifices an opportunity she would have been unlikely to have given up on without a fight earlier in the series. This courage and self-sacrifice is far more along the lines of what one would expect from an integrated Eight. 

w7:

“Let's just say that I am very eager to be a private citizen again.”

Maintaining her own freedom and happiness is a big priority for Lovelace, which is indicative of her Seven wing. She dislikes ruminating on painful subjects, and while she generally copes by being action-oriented; her refusal to confront her grief is explored in Variations On a Theme, where she has no tolerance for herself slipping into present tense when speaking about her past group;

“No. Focus. Work. Be here. Be now. Don't stop to remember. Don't stop to think. Stay away from the ghosts.”

And, in Need To Know it’s revealed she was deliberately getting high on painkillers after the disastrous events of Who’s There?;

“I got a broken an arm trying to save one of my crew members. It was a very difficult time.”

Turning to addiction as a form of escapism is not uncommon for a Seven in disintegration.

Additionally, despite her extreme fury towards Goddard, Lovelace is also driven for much of the series by an extreme desire to return home; 

“I want to go back to earth.”

It’s only in her internal monologue- presented as fragmented and scattered, as many disintegrated Sevens can feel and behave- that she acknowledges the painful truth that returning to earth won’t truly fulfill her desires- earth is longer home, and home is gone;

LOVELACE: “I will do this. I'll do it faster. Better. Deal with crazier. Won't die harder. Fix this goddamn engine. Get them out. Go home.”

SECOND LOVELACE: “You can never go home. You were home.”

THIRD LOVELACE: “And now you're back. And you can never go back.”

LOVELACE: “I know. I know.”

In fact, Lovelace’s powerful desire to get off the station is more reminiscent of the blind claustrophobia of a disintegrated Seven- the desire to escape a painful atmosphere- than a draw towards a compelling, satisfying one. Towards the very end of the series, this changes. Significantly, she mentions earth not just in the context of revenging on Goddard or escaping the Hephaestus, but as presenting the opportunity for revitalizing, healing experiences, with something close to the optimism of a healthy Seven;

“Oh, there are so many choices. Look up some old friends, take apart Goddard Futuristics brick by brick... maybe go to Disneyland? But first, I'm going to take a long vacation, somewhere warm and quiet, where nobody has any idea who I am.”

Ultimately, though, her wing isn’t very developed- she’s more than willing to stay on the station late in the series to try and learn more about the aliens and their wants (and by association, about their control over her), and doesn’t try to flee the situation in the same way that Eiffel wants to at that point. Similarly, she’s willing to die to protect him in Desperate Measures- her core desires and fears as an Eight will always overpower the aversion to pain associated with her wing whenever both come into play. 

[appreciate-kaimaki]

Could I request headcannons for SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki and SHSL Nurse Kaito?

Thank you, anon, for sending us our first AU/talentswap ask! This one was such a joy to write! I had to think a lot to make a scenario where a biker gang leader and a nurse could meet and grow closer together, but the ideas really started to flow pretty soon. And in the end, it became the longest piece I've ever written on this blog... so long, in fact, that I converted it into a full fanfic! Did I do your idea justice? What do you think? Your fic is under the cut, so please enjoy!

~Mod Shuichi~

Maki Harukawa is the roughest, toughest, most ruthless gangster the world has ever seen, standing at the very peak of street hierarchy and feared not only by the other gangs (many of whom are double her age) but also the police themselves. She routinely prowls the streets with her gang, clad in her signature red and black leather jacket with a dagger strapped to her thigh and revving her bike's custom engine as loudly as she can as she tears through the streets like the queen of the road she is. And this would have been like any other day, had a rival gang led by Shirogane Tsumugi not decided to mount a sneak attack on her to 'reclaim the streets'. Two of her goons got a van and t-boned Maki's bike in an intersection in a very underhanded move.

They should have known better. Maki Harukawa does not go down that easily - and even if she can't fight them right now herself, her well-trained subordinates are lightyears better than Shirogane's bear-handed misfits. Still, she knows she'd be dead if it weren't for her natural agility and reflexes, and she also knows she's extremely lucky to have gotten off on just a broken arm and leg.

She's rushed to the hospital and Korekiyo, her second-in-command, drops by with some of her gang members to check up on her once the operation's over. Maki tells him not to mind her too much, and to go wage war on Shirogane and her band of idiots instead. He heeds the command with much gusto, but not before pre-paying her bills to the best service the hospital can afford. Never say crime doesn't pay, she muses.

(Other gang leaders would be worried about their second-in-commands usurping their rule while they're out of commission. Not Maki, though. She knows her subordinates like the front of her hand, and they will never betray her while she's still alive.)

Now that she is effectively relieved from duty, the only thing left to do is to rest and mend her bones. Easy, huh?

Apparently not, as the personal nurse assigned to her is the single most annoying human being she has ever seen. His spiky purple hair and goatee clash horribly against his scrubs, and every fifth word out of his mouth is a space pun. He also doesn't appear to be intimidated by her at all - doesn't he know who she is? Any hope that he would be somewhat tolerable is dashed to pieces like her bike when he immediately gives her a despicable nickname in the first minute they meet.

"Hi, I'm Kaito Momota!" he announces way too jovially to someone who just had two limbs wrapped in a cast. "I'll be your nurse for the next four months. Nice to meet you, Miss Maki Roll!"

"Maki Roll?!"

He then proceeds to spend the next three hours explaining how he made her that nickname (because her first name is Maki, you see, and his mom just so adores his maki rolls that it's become a reflex whenever he sees the word, oh did he mention that he makes some wicked maki rolls?) and Maki is ready to either strangle him or rip her own hair out of her scalp when Momota is finally called away by intercom. The reprieve is short-lived, however, as the purple idiot barges back in a mere ten minutes later, ready to torture her with more bad puns and incessant storytelling. At this point, Maki would rather strangle herself. One thing is clear: she cannot take this for four effing months. She'd go mad by the second week.

She takes advantage of one of his bathroom breaks to flag down a passing doctor, a lady with deep purple hair and lavender eyes (was purple hair a thing in medical personnel these days?), and begs her to get her a different nurse, a doctor she could talk to, anyone other than Kaito goddamned Momota.

The doctor, 'Mikan Tsumiki' according to her nameplate, apparently cannot understand Maki's adverse reaction. "B-but didn't your friend ask for the best we had?", she replies quizzically. And right then and there Maki learns from Doctor Tsumiki that Kaito Momota the imbecile in purple is in fact the Super High School Level Nurse what the hell?!

"Everyone's so energetic and cheerful after meeting him," Doctor Tsumiki continues, and Maki can barely contain her incredulousness. Momota chooses that moment to reappear, and Doctor Tsumiki excuses herself. Maki forces herself to think for the best - if he's the Ultimate Nurse, at least he'll be good at treating her enough for her to ignore his prattling.

And he is very good at his job, indeed. He can change her casts without her feeling a single thing. He's always ready on call in case she needs anything, and he's making a visible effort to ramble less after the first few days. He still doesn't seem to acknowledge at all that he's treating the number one gangster in town, though.

He knows who she is. He'd be an actual idiot if he didn't, considering her name still shows up on the news at least once a week (including the report on her 'accident').

Yet he is still as friendly and, dare she say it, charming as the first time he met her. (What? He is annoying, but there is a certain charm to him.) It's nice, but it's also scary. If what he's showing her is a facade, it's a better mask than any she has ever worn and she's terrified of it.

One day she just goes 'fuck it' and decides to ask him herself. Time in the hospital is supremely boring, so Maki can at least blame the situation for her curiosity getting the better of her. She puts on her best game face and calls him over.

"Hey, Momota."

"Yes, Maki Roll?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Well, duh." He gestures to her patient card at the foot of the bed. "Why wouldn't I? Maki Harukawa, the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. I'm not that stupid, you know."

"Then why aren't you scared of me? Why do you keep trying to get closer? Do I look like a joke to you?"

There. She said it. Now all she needs is answers.

Kaito pulls up a chair and plonks himself down on it. His eyes have a serious look she's never seen before as he opens his mouth.

"I'd be lying if I wasn't a little bit scared. Your eyes have that look down pat. But I'm not gonna let that bother me. At all."

"Why?"

"I became a nurse because I wanted to help people, make them happier and healthier, and I won't stop just because some lady has an unconventional job. The queen of England could be sitting here right now and I'd treat her exactly the same way. To me, you're not Maki Harukawa the gangster. You're Maki Harukawa, the girl with a broken arm and leg."

Maki is thrown for a loop at his words. Nobody had ever considered her identity seperate from her title before. No one has ever treated her like everyone else before. The nerve, part of her mind screams. It's kindness, another part yells back. Maki thinks the latter is more likely.

And as she's thinking, the idiot just has to add, "Plus, I think you're kinda cute."

She takes pleasure in watching Momota duck to avoid the pen she throws at his face.

As the days pass by, she finds herself opening up more and more to Momo... Kaito. (He had insisted upon calling him that, reasoning that they weren't strangers anymore. He wasn't wrong, so she obliged.) As the SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki is used to a life of hushed voices and fearful glances whenever she shows up, and she deals with it because being the top of the food chain means she has to keep her image intact. But Kaito is different. She feels like she can be actually personal with Kaito, in a way even Korekiyo cannot provide. Maybe it's because whatever she tells him, he doesn't judge - he just listens.

He listens to her past as an orphan, tossed from foster home to foster home. He listens to her recounting the brutal world of street crime and how it burned her childhood into ashes. He listens to what she feels about Korekiyo, how she's grateful for him because he was her first real friend. She can tell he's genuinely interested in whatever it is she's saying.

And then, when she's done talking, he'll share something about himself. He used to want to be an astronaut, before deciding his talents would better be used helping the sick and injured. His best friend is the SHSL Detective (one of them, at least). He helped set him up with his crush the SHSL Pianist, and they've been dating for almost a year. He can actually make some delicious maki rolls. (He brought some over one day to share with her at lunch and she's never tasted a better roll. Maybe the nickname isn't too bad after all?)

It's all very new to her, and Maki is both unnerved and excited by it at the same time. One thing is sure, though - it feels very good to have someone who understands her.

The four months are gone in a flash, and soon Kaito is removing the last pieces of her leg cast as she reads a text from Korekiyo saying he'll head over to pick her up. Maki steals a glance at the nurse busying himself with the cast saw. Is it too sentimental to think that she'd like to see him some more? First impressions aside, she's really grown attached to him - and a part of her wonders if that attachment could become something more. Dammit, Maki thinks. She's been away from action for too long. She must have gone soft. Lost in thought, she jumps in surprise when Kaito's face abruptly fills her field of vision.

"Earth to Maki Roll," he says, "As I was saying, your arm and leg have mended splendidly, so you'll be cleared in the next hour - so I got you a good health present!"

He hands her a bundle wrapped in glittery purple wrapping paper. She tears it open, only to find... her old jacket?

It's not her old jacket. Her old jacket got shredded to ribbons in the crash and they had to throw it away. But this one, also black leather with crimson highlights but shiny new, fits her perfectly in both style and size.

"I saw the interns throwing out your jacket the day you got here. I guessed you might miss it, so I got you a new one. It's not the exact same model, but..."

"How did you know my size?"

"You're joking, right? You went through more than a hundred hospital gowns. Of course I remembered." His smile is blinding, and Maki can't help but give a small smile back in return. For a split second, as she holds the clearly heartfelt gift, all her emotions do battle debating what to do. She settles for hugging him awkwardly around the midsection with a muttered "Thank you."

"You're welcome! It wasn't a big deal, really." Kaito's smile is positively radiant as he hugs her back.

She could really get used to this.

NO. Stop it, Maki. You're the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. You have a reputation. You can't be this soft.

Speaking of soft, Kaito's shirt feels really soft...

Maki. STOP.

She recoils quickly, ducking to hide the blush on her face, and spits out "I bet you give presents to all the patients you treat!" to hide her embarassment only to immediately regret it when his face visibly falls.

"I'm not that kind of person, you know," he mutters, "you were the first time I bought someone something." It's the quietest she's ever seen him. Great, now she's the one feeling bad.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Kaito gives her a small smile as he escorts her to the doctor's office. "It's okay. I guess I should tell you you're also the only one to get a nickname?"

She laughs out loud, and it feels good again.

True to Kaito's word, the doctor soon gives her the all-clear. He does, however, remind her to go easy on her limbs and keep doing physical therapy for at least another month.

Korekiyo is, true to his word, waiting for her just outside the door with a full brigade of riders in tow. As Maki strides out to meet him, he wordlessly hands her a cracked pair of glasses and a bloody ribbon. Maki grins as she inspects the trophies. Shirogane won't be bothering them anytime soon.

He beckons her to the new bike he just dismounted and mounts the one next to it, just behind the rider. "It's all yours, boss. Just out from the shop."

But before she can get on her new bike and leave, she is reminded of Kaito standing just a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed on her back. Maki's no mind-reader, but she can clearly see the thinly veiled longing etched in his face.

It should be a tough decision. She has a reputation to keep, control to reassume, and underlings to whip into shape, after all. But Maki didn't become queen of the road by doing what everyone expected her to do, did she? It's that moment she decides to do what she does best - follow what her heart tells her. She asks Korekiyo for a pen.

Kaito has decided he's stared enough and just turned to go back inside when Maki's voice rings out from behind him.

"Wait!"

He turns back around. Maki saunters toward Kaito, new jacket glinting in the sunlight. She leans in close to his ear.

"I might come back a few times for my physical therapy... surely you wouldn't mind walking me through the steps a few times?", she whispers, her warm breath tickling his ear. Pleasant shivers run through Kaito's spine.

Kaito gets the message. His smile could call the Sun too dark as he replies, "I'd love to!"

Pulling the boy close into a hug, Maki stuffs a note in his pocket and plants a quick kiss on his cheek before walking back to her bike and the waiting Korekiyo. A few throaty revs and a hand signal from Maki later, the bikes all zoom away leaving only a small cloud of fumes and some skid marks behind.

Left alone in the parking lot, Kaito fishes out Maki's note and opens it, pumping his fist when he sees its contents - a phone number underlined twice, with the name 'Maki Roll' written next to it. The short message below simply reads 'Call me'.

Back at their headquarters, Korekiyo dares to ask Maki about the purple-haired nurse she seemed quite close to. Her only reply is a smile and "Someone I can tolerate being close to."

[saccharinedanganimagines]

Hello hello! how about baby fuyuhiko, Kichi, kiibab and sushi detective and avacado with a stoic detective S/o who goes out on a case/ mission and goes missing. They are found a week or two later in an alleyway with blood trickling down their head, (they’re fine but are pretty injured) even after this, they just tell them it doesn’t matter what happened how do they react? Sorry for the detail, you can cut out whatever you want, I don’t mind.

Don’t worry about too much detail! It helps me write better, I tend to put in details myself if I need to spice things up a little. And this is a good amount of spice! 

These two requests are similar, so I’ll write for both.

~ Mod Ouma

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

The Ultimate Yakuza lives a dangerous life, where anyone around him could get targeted, hurt and/or killed.

He wasn’t surprised to see someone in his life get taken away.

He was furious.

He worked day and night, ordering his clan onto whoever the hell tried to mess with his partner. Dispersing his underlings throughout the city and speaking to anyone he could contact in the criminal underworld.

Peko was getting increasingly worried for him, so she also worked really hard to find you.

He finds you faster than the police.

It took them two weeks but it was faster than most cases and the fucking mafia did the police’s job better. He laughs at the irony.

He personally goes to where the rumors and research led him, to an old dingy alley.

He doesn’t care who sees him as he nearly throws himself at you. He only told himself to hold back since you had an injury.

“… Fucking hell, what did they do to you..?!” He’s angry, but he’s tired too.

And then, he breaks when you tell him that none of this mattered and that you were fine.

“Fine..? Hey, what the hell are you talking about?! Don’t lie!”

His shouting and cursing had turned weary as an expression of fury and anguish crosses his features.

He wants to snap, but upon seeing your state, he instead focuses on keeping you safe.

“Damn, you’re bleeding… I swear, we’re getting the bastards who fucking hurt you!” 

He doesn’t give the police time to get to the scene, instead, he brings you with him and brings you to the hospital himself.

He feels a little resentful against the people in your work place, at the police, for not being able to prevent your kidnapping or even solve it.

He won’t visit you in the hospital for the first 24 hours until he’s gotten his bearings back.

He’ll apologize for not being there with you then, but he won’t apologize for snapping at how you’ve been mistreating yourself.

He gets into a tussle with the police service, but the whole case isn’t over yet.

Within those two week, with the help of his clan, he manages to uncover the whole weight of the case. Closing it and bringing your kidnappers to justice.

But whoever the hell decided to mess with you will get what’s coming to them.

Kokichi Ouma

He never stopped looking. 

He didn’t terribly seem different from his usual self.

But his pranks became malicious, often ending with irritation rather than laughter and his mischievous laughter turned into spiteful cackling. 

He kept his eyes and ears open for any hint of your whereabouts, going around town to eavesdrop for potential hints.

He finds you himself after finding a stranger connected to the people who kidnapped you.

“… It doesn’t matter, huh?” He has the most blank expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“Well, of course the blood running down your face is as relevant as ketchup. Of course possibly bleeding out in an alleyway isn’t that important at all. S/O.”

“Don’t act dumb!”

Suddenly, tears erupt from the corners of his eyes as his face turns red. His expression is a mix of anger, worry, and sadness. 

“You think that life, your life doesn’t matter…? Are you kidding me?!”

He kneels in front of you, gripping the cuffs of your tattered uniform.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you expecting me to say ‘Hm? Me? Crying? S/O, you must’ve hit your head preeeetty hard to think that’…?” His voice drastically changed from furious and pleading to his normal nonchalant and jovial tone. But the heartbroken expression on his face remained.

“Well tough luck! Because I’m in no mood to lie right now!” 

His deathly grip moves to your waist as he clings to you, nearly clawing at your back. His uniform stained by your blood. 

“There’s no way you’re doing this again! Two weeks could have turned into forever!”

He’s furious. At you, at the police, at the suspects, but most of all, at himself. For not being able to stop you from getting hurt.

“I love you, you idiot! Don’t ever risk your life again!”

Kokichi will stay furious for a while, but he doesn’t stop holding your hand even as you’re rushed to the hospital. He only lets go when the doctors force him away from you.

Kiibo/K1-B0

Kiibo is determined to find you!

It doesn’t matter if it takes 3 days, a week, or even month! 

He searches non stop and has even cut back on his recharge time. 

He tries to decipher your detective notes, work with Shuichi and make sense of the criminal underground.

He never lost hope and he did get a little obsessive, but it was the logical option if he wanted to find you as fast as possible.

He feels a great sense of loss, but he ignores it so that he could focus.

With Shuichi’s help and his ultimate, you were found.

Until finally, he was face to face with you in the abandoned alleyway you frequently wrote about in your notes.

He finally feels all the repressed emotions he kept crashing down on him as he’s face-to-face with his injured S/O.

“Why, S/O…? It was dangerous but you…” He shakes his head.

“Let’s not talk about what led to this for now.. You need medical attention.” 

He treats your minor wounds the best way he can with a sad smile.

A thought he had tried so hard to squash comes back to him:

What if this was the last time he’ll ever see you ever again?

The very thought makes him grip your hand tighter and huddle closer to you in that cold, isolated alleyway.

He keeps you company, making sure you stay conscious and alert until the police and EMS arrived. 

“S/O.. I’ve come to understand your drive towards justice after your disappearance, but.. I hope you learn from this experience and use it as a stepping stone towards a healthier and safer life!”

He aggressively nurses you, making sure you’re well-fed, okay and that you don’t disappear on him ever again.

He will also start volunteering for the police, subtly keeping an eye on you so that you don’t get kidnapped ever again.

Shuichi Saihara

By the end of the 2nd week, his emotions overwhelmed him and prevented him from looking for you. He could barely get off his own bed that morning.

As a fellow detective, he saw the signs. Your obsessive behavior for the cases and your stubbornness, the sleepless nights and desperate pacing in your office.

As your partner, he failed to prevent your disappearance.

He only gets up to eat a small meal before checking his clues for the 100th time today.

Then, he discovers one important detail he missed. He rushes to the alleyway the suspect had once visited during one of your crucial confrontations with them.

He finds you there, battered and bleeding from a head injury.

He sinks to the ground and cradles you into his arms.

He’s in the middle of radioing for help when you tell him that you’re fine and that your injury doesn’t matter.

Shuichi’s heart breaks at how defeated your sound compared to your usually stoic tone.

“S-S/O… You’re going to be fine.. What have they done to you…?” His voice is so soft you almost miss his words.

He hugs you, tears falling from his long lashes and onto your already stained uniform. 

He can’t help but be locked in his own thoughts, thinking about anything and everything that could have happened to you in those 2 excruciating weeks you were gone. 

“I’m sorry… I should have stopped you, helped you, done something…! I was afraid to get in your way… But now I see how trivial that was compared to.. this.”

The police and an ambulance arrived, and despite their advice, Shuichi stays on the scene.

He’s determined to find whoever did this to you. He searches the alleyway thoroughly, finding any and all evidences that will eventually lead your kidnappers to justice.

His eyes are red and puffy but he pushes on, with a newfound hope with your reappearance.

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro took to drinking away his sorrows every other night after you didn’t come back within the first week.

He refuses to even leave his house, even though it started to feel stuffy from the lack of new scenery.

He wanted to help with the investigation, but he couldn’t.

All he knew was that you were getting desperate over your detective work despite his efforts to stop you from overworking yourself.

He keeps losing people who mattered to him.

Then around the second week, he gets a call from Shuichi, who took up your case.

Two, long weeks. And they finally found you.

He’s already in his car, despite Shuichi’s pleas for him to calm down and wait a little longer. 

He arrives in the alleyway where they found you. He didn’t think it was impossible for his heart to beat any faster than it did until he saw you.

You were still leaning against the walls of the alley,  the EMS wasn’t there yet

Rantaro panics, thinking you’re severely injured until Shuichi talks him down and explains the situations.

With a lot of prodding, they let him in to patch you up with a med kit he always had with him. Perks of being the Ultimate Survivor. 

He’s quiet the entire time he patches you up, careful not to hurt you too much as he disinfects your wounds and stops the bleeding.

He doesn’t know what to do exactly. 

He kept losing people close to him.. But it wasn’t like he had many chances to find them again.

He’s just so glad you were still alive.

He stays with you for the next few days, refusing to leave your side and trying to nurse you back to health and normalcy.

He clings to you and cries,he tells you about how it was really difficult knowing that there was a chance you weren’t going to come back.

“But please… Don’t ever disappear on me like that again, S/O…I love you too much to see you gone… I’m glad you’re back.”

[sleeplessinsiswati]

Toxic Masculinity—A Contagious Kind of Pollution

Yeah, yeah, yeah. My bad, I know I’m late.

*grumble and murmuring*

My bad. Look, i said my bad.

*lower murmuring*

Look, in my defense, I had the post locked and loaded on the queue and then my internet went out. Boom. Now can we get on with what we came here for?

_________________________________________________

As you may know about me, bell hooks is one of my favorite authors. She has inspired me, moment after moment and time after time, to grow and love myself and others more wholly and fully.  In her writing she uses a combination of autobiographical, common-sensical language and academic, theoretical research to shed light to the various topics. Here, I will attempt to scratch at the masterpieces of her work, and use both theory and my experience to shed the light of truth concerning what I know about what the world has come to refer to as toxic masculinity.

Your story may be different than mine, but toxic masculinity is something that affects each and every one of us. Let me state again, masculinity is not the issue here; there is nothing wrong with “being a man” or being strong or having power. The issue comes in when notions or ideals of manhood force boys and men to be emotionally unavailable, makes us believe we are not enough as human beings, or encourages us to exploit and take advantage of others in an ultimate quest for power. There’s no way around the reality that this is no way to live, and there is the crux of the argument—living. Most of the things that we come to know and associate with being a “man” and “manhood” have to do with survival. Hunting, fishing, fighting, scanning a room and sizing people up, sports, fitness, taking a hit and not complaining, the list goes on and on. Most of these are guys grasping at straws, trying to get a piece, a bit more power than they had before, in order to survive. But this is not living. 

This is why the first step to growth, and leading a healthier life absent of toxic masculinity, is reflection. You must look over your life, your experiences and genuinely ask are you living or are you surviving. Patriarchy, being a system where men and masculine energy dominate spaces of power or with power and women, children, and weaker men are seen as inferior and vessels willing to be dominated or controlled, makes us believe that survival is the ultimate resource and that there are constant, looming threats to us accomplishing this goal. Though at times this may be true, it is not always true, and if we walk through life always scanning rooms with balled up fists we doom ourselves to early graves filled with bitterness, emotions we’ve never experienced, and a life devoid of love. There is more to life than reliving childhood traumas day in and day out, but that more does not come without being able to reflect and to heal. 

I don’t remember at what point in my childhood I started hating my dad; I know that it was not always that way. There’s a distinctly fond memory I have with him—wrestling my older brother and I, both of us no older than seven at the time, he pinned us down and stood on our chests saying, “ Who’s the man? Who’s the Man?” Gerald and I were half hysterical laughing, half having an asthma attack, and shouting, “ You’re the man! You’re the man!” He laughed saying, “ No, God’s the Man. Say, God’s the Man.” We giggle between gasps, “Okay, God’s the Man!” Mom came on to the scene from the back room of our duplex and looked at Dad with that look that only Black mommas can deliver; we were sorry that we got dad in trouble, but to this day I love that time in my life, I love that memory. 

Perhaps it was the pressures of two lives, two similar personalities, and an age difference spanning over three decades that caused there to be so much friction between us; don’t ask me what the first argument was even about, because I couldn’t tell you. I think that it was the silence that ultimately led to it all. Questions not asked by a son out of fear, and questions left unanswered by a father unaware of the shadow his figure casted. What I do know is that early on in my adolescence I became disillusioned with childhood, with being looked down upon and thought to be foolish, and I know it had a lot to do with Dad and things he said, or how he said them. Something as simple as walking into the room that Gerald and I shared, looking around and making an expression, and finally looking at us and shaking his head was all Dad needed to do to express his disappointment. Honestly I appreciated the silent expressions a lot more than the verbal ones, which seemed to have a back-breakingly painful bite to them. Gerald grew to be calloused and joke about it, but I was raw to it; words more than belts and punishments are what would break my spirit. Around fifth grade I realized that love didn’t really matter, or at least it didn’t mean anything—I loved my dad and he kept smoking cigarettes even after my brother and I begged him to stop; I loved my mom but I couldn’t tell her what I felt about the world because she couldn’t protect me from it; I loved my brother but I felt he constantly belittled me, silenced me, and made me feel like I was stupid (I’m sure he took a few pages from Dad’s book, in this way); I loved myself, or I thought I did, and yet I constantly belittled myself, telling myself that in this world I would have to be stronger. Love could not change anything about life, it just made you feel like you couldn’t even more.

Eventually I gave in to this belief system—years passed and I graduated to full blown “I don’t give a fuck about anything”. I was afraid, powerless and with those tools as weapons I was ready for anything at any time because I felt I had nothing to lose; I felt I had lost so much of my soul already, it wouldn’t matter even if I lost my life. Hotheaded athlete, I knew how to mask my shrewd and heartless demeanor with cool, chauvinistic locker-room thuggery. I acted chill, I wanted to be chill, but in my mind, at any moment I was a shoulder bump away from a full blown “nigga moment”, as so accurately defined in The Boondocks. I was a ticking time bomb, an emotionally unavailable mess all throughout high school, and college was more the same with less of the guard rails.

But before we keep going forward, let’s go back. Black Baton Rouge has become well-known in modern society (before the Alton Sterling murder) for one reason in particular, as far as I am concerned, —Lil Boosie. Now, I’m not talking about “Zoom” or “Wipe Me Down” Lil Boosie, that’s mainstream Boosie. I’m talking “Set It Off”, “Murder Was the Case” Lil Boosie; Boosie that I met that one time at the Mall of Cortana and he said, “Wassup, lil niggas” Lil Boosie. That one. The Boosie BR natives knew growing up was trap before trap was cool. Street, gutta, whatever you want to call it, Black BR loved it and they had to have it. Hell the whole world came to love it, but Baton Rouge had to have it so much that they had to mimic it; kids, even, began to walk with certain swaggers, talking lingos picked up from lyrics. It was a damn masterpiece from a mastermind, and there was no escaping it. The problem though, is what this success for one man meant for many boys (like me and unlike me) growing up in that era. Is being a man being that kind of man? The kind of man in these songs? Why do these boys think less of me because I’m not a “man” like they think they are? Do they know they’re faking?

These were the type of thoughts that got me chin-checked on more than one occasion, questioning what someone saw as their manhood, or them thinking I was calling them soft. I was a huge fan of Dr. King in my younger days, nonviolence and all, but I made up in my mind after one good fight that Dr. King must have never been to Scotlandville, Baton Rouge, a day in his life, and that was that for nonviolence as a way of life in my mind. In a classic case of if-you-can’t-beat-them-join-them, I entered the wade pool of cool poses and posturizing. If a scrap came I didn’t think twice about it, and I was willing to take whatever bruises and lumps came with it from the school or the fight. Not like I was built or raise for all’lat, but didn’t seem like there was much other option. 

Now let’s press play, back at the start of my university academic career. I had finally made it to the platform where I wanted to be—college freshman, class president, track team, chapel assistant, so on and so forth. And the shit felt as plastic as a maxed out credit card. The aggression, the fight that I had come to know and hate and love—for all its pain and all  its suffering, I missed it; it was home, my home. Not much more than a self-righteous leader already, I quickly threw off the mask of who people wanted me to be as the smart, politically correct leader after freshman year, and allowed my passions to roam freely. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, for no reason other than I wanted to. 

It wasn’t until I nearly lost my opportunities to continue my studies and was threatened with the potential for never finishing undergrad, that I sat down and contemplated what went wrong, and why. It was then that I had to take a journey through my mind, into my past and confront the decisions I made, the reasons I made them, and the consequences of those actions. It was here that I discovered and acknowledged the pain in my past. The memories of desperately wanting the approval of my father, and simultaneously being pained by not living up to his seemingly impossible expectations; Times where he seemed to be emotionally unavailable hurt me more than any belt whooping ever could; fleeting thoughts of being silenced or crying inconsolably from feelings of inferiority or brokenness. From these starting points I came to resent the presentation of manhood before me in my father, and the power that came with it, with hoping to one day overcome (or overpower) it by whatever means necessary. That bitterness spilled over into other systems of power and I came to resent almost all, if not all, forms of leadership. Being on the lower rungs of the power dynamic at home and the frustration that came with it did not get any better in the world beyond those four wals; I was short, readily referred to as “nappy-headed”, and emotionally vulnerable. The ego bruises and self-esteem damage I received from early on in my public school career led me to believe that I had to become someone powerful, or to have power, in order to not be disrespected. This belief would haunt me from the moment of its beginning up to this very day. 

Once I realized this, and I was able to accept that for the vast majority of my life I had been living in my past burdened by unforgivness, that I had not been the person I really wanted to be, I began a journey of learning to become for the first time. It was exciting being able to unlearn ways in which I had limited my own humanity for fear of not being perceived as manly or displaying some form of power, but it has also been very painful at times. Admitting to yourself the damage that you have done to others, the damage you have done to yourself, and the damage that has been done to you is not easy. There are people who to this day I feel I owe apologies to, for things that I said or ways that I treated them, Black women in particular; for the sake of recovering acknowledgement I didn’t receive in my youth but desperately wanted, I took advantage emotionally of women who otherwise loved me, cared for me, and wanted to see the both of us to succeed. Some people, most people, are afraid to look into their pasts and examine the truth of their actions because they do not want to face that there may be consequences to their actions; even towards themselves there is unforgivness and bitterness. The truth is, without confronting our past we are bound by them and they have power over us. Only by being able to non-judgementally examine our actions, accept that they were wrong, and pay whatever toll to move forward, can we begin our journey of healing. 

Even I was afraid to begin my journey of unlearning toxic masculinity thinking that I may be vulnerable to the world and it’s threats, but I have come to find my wife and best friend, a life of love and laughter and carefree living, and wholeness through this adventure of learning. Yes, I am now more likely to cry in public and yes I share my feelings more with others, but I now see that instead of living a life silencing parts of who I am and distorting other parts of me to seem more angry or more threatening than I feel, I can just…be. 

And that, for me, is enough. 

Pain is universal: we all experience it, feel it, and suffer. But the only thing equally as universal, and infinitely more powerful is the healing from that pain; that healing is love. I challenge you to ask what ways has toxic masculinity been a part of your life, and then challenge your self to live a more whole, more alive life. Only by ending this vicious cycle can we stop the pollution of toxic masculinity, and breathe the fresh air of self-acceptance, self-love, and truly show our love for others. 

Peace.

[tinyrosemarysparrows]

I don’t believe in fate or an ultimate destiny so much as I have no interest in considering the possibility of one. Nor do I believe in multiple universes so much as I have no interest in considering that possibility. It simply has no influence on my life or my decisions, so I do not care whether or not those theories might be true. If they are proven or disproven, well, would there even be a point to having said I believe in them? Either way, my actions will be the same. 

I will stand firmly by my belief that a witch is a witch from the moment they are born and that, because they have been born one, they will become one at some point in their life. That is a different conversation, though. 

To segway into what this is actually about, there’s been a line I’ve been holding onto for a very long time and waited to say to either of my parents. I was born into a conservative Christian town, taught in conservative and stifling Christian schools, and grown with a daily message of who “we” were supposed to hate, most of the time being homosexuals. I was taught that children who die soon after birth are sent to hell and women exist purely to serve men and that my purpose in life was to get married and bear children for my husband--my dreams and wants were selfish and sinful. In chapel five days a week, I was taught that the God that loved everyone was glad we killed each other for His sake and that it was justified to hate someone because they were different. Needless to say, I became a pseudo-atheist at a young age. In my worldview, there was still only one God. However, I wanted Him to know that I acknowledged He was real and that I chose to go to hell because He and the Devil were clearly not what the book made them out to be. 

Had I never gone to those schools, I do not think I would have ever questioned the religion I was born into. I enjoyed the church’s aesthetic. I enjoyed the idea of some paradise after death where everything would be perfect and all the questions would be answered. Perhaps there might have been a conflict at some point in choosing which of my parents’ denominations I would follow (as much as I am proud of my father’s side, the Methodists were far more human). But I would still believe in one God and one afterlife. 

Inevitably, the subject of my grade schooling always comes up whenever I spend more than two hours with my mother. I’ll spare the details and just say that I would be a very different, healthier person if I had never gone to those schools. The topic of religion and gayness came up during our drive to the grocery store after lunch. I’m not sure what exactly made me think, “This. This is the moment I’ve waited for,” but it happened and I said that thing I’ve held onto for a very, very long time. 

“I truly think that, if you had never sent me to those schools, I would still be a Christian. But because of what they taught me for years, I cannot believe in it and haven’t since middle school.” 

And she was very quiet before she asked, very clipped, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

At that point, I wasn’t angry or snippy. I just honestly asked, “What was I supposed to say?” 

It was...empowering, I suppose, to finally say something that shut her up (before she said that she knew I would find the way back when I was older and we moved on to talking about her dinner party tonight). She’s the worst person I have ever met. I’ve talked about the things she’s done before and I still stand beside my belief that she is one of the rare human beings that has no good left in her. She’s the cause of nearly all of the problems I will face for the rest of my life, including the health issues that get worse every year. She continuously denies all of it, including my diagnoses from the many doctors I’ve seen over the years. She’ll do whatever it takes for her to avoid any sort of blame for any of her actions, no matter how pointless it is because there’s really no way around the fact that both of her children hate her and that, after the divorce, she’ll have lost both of them. 

But this? There’s no way around it. She handpicked the schools. She ignored my comments about the doctrines being taught. She was the one who pushed me to attend and listen and shut up like a good little girl. She was the one who endorsed that, yes, these people are talking about the Christian God and this is exactly who He is. After the majority of my life, how could I ever doubt that, maybe, all of these hundreds of people were wrong? I still can’t. To me, that religion in its modern incarnation is wholly corrupt. If there ever was a singular God that taught love and tolerance and generosity, well, these people must have killed it. 

I don’t believe that I was fated to walk this path or that my gods planned all of this out. I don’t believe that I was led to Them so much as I leapt through a window and happened to land in saltwater. All that mattered was getting out, not where I would go next. I don’t believe that I was destined to become pagan, but thank the gods I did.