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marsprincess889 · 2 months ago

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Ketu in the houses

Doing smaller(in this case not so much, but it's still more elementary and formulaic) posts before dropping the big ones. I know you all are going to love this (my blog has become a ketu information hub for a lot of you 😅🙃)

As always, keep in mind: ketu is very internal and personal. I can give you basic descriptions and observations but to connect with your ketu, due to its essence and nature, I think you'll have to shut out a lot of the noise and just listen to yourself. That concerns everything. So, if your truth is telling you that I or someone's description is incorrect, then trust it. Be careful while examining that.

Ketu in the 1st house:

Automatic and natural possession of the physical body. Comfortable in their own skin, sometimes too comfortable. Have an appearance that suits natural adornment. Quality pieces look extra good on them, but even they wear/carry something "cheap", it still somehow works. They don't have to really think about their appearance, but if they do start to, it might have enormous impact on others. They're not really fans of trendy looks of the moment as I've observed, they have the power to set the trends themselves but I'd say most of them are not aware of that. Might be loud while talking and have a sort of unrestrained/unfazed demeanor. On ther hand, they might also be really quiet.

When all else fails, just focus on yourself. Keep coming back to yourself in times of crisis. You have good health but don't ignore it, this placement might not even give you the permission to. You have enormous privilege of having amazing power, don't waste it.

Ketu in the 2nd house:

Hoarders, collectors, but not intentionally. Possessions have meanings attached to them. Intuitively have a knowing of what should go into their body and follow it, even if others disagree. Good at measuring the worth of things or people. Relaxed face. Sort of disconnected from their family or lineage, or seem that way. Family support was convenient in childhood but might have been taken for granted. Deeper voice(?), slightly intimidating way of speaking. Great singers(?).

You can always ground yourself, no matter how strongly it seems otherwise. The support and the family can be all around you if you find it inside yourself first.

Ketu in the 3rd house:

This is my placement, so it's gonna be longer(cause I have more info, not cause I'm arrogant😭) so bear with me.

Aware and alert but ironically might not be aware of this at first. Great instincts, naturally skilled. The information field is constantly on their radar. A lot of what they observe is boring to them, and they absorb everything. Movements are natural/effortless. Might look clumsy or careless with movements or speaking sometimes but they have it together, more than others and more than it shows. Have the ability to skillfully get out of sticky situations. Survivors. They have creative ways of managing tasks. Great with details but confused with too much data, they consider it pointless. Can get to the bottom of things. Can play devil's advocate but they often don't want to. Can argue but it's mainly to increase a sense of self-possession. Their "trivial" words have more meaning than they or others assume at first. Don't say a lot of what they know. Might be surprised that things that are obvious to them elude others. More shrewd than they look, but they themselves consider a lot of "shrewd" and "cunning" strategies dumb and superficial. WILL NOT trust others before analyzing them in their head. Quick, kind of messy minds but still somehow organized and sensible. Love to dig and investigate. Trust themselves before anyone else. Know that they know stuff but can't show the whole truth of it easily. Use confusion as a weapon. Relationships with siblings, cousins and childhood friends are nuanced, interesting and kind of cimplicated. Town/neighborhood black sheep but still fit there the best.

Ehh, what can I say, you're doing amazing keep going. 😭 The truth will come, don't worry, boredom is not forever and sometimes it's better than anything. Anxiety is a warning, get that b*tch out of your system, connect to what makes you calm. Look around you and get rooted to your life, like you know how to do.

Ketu in the 4th house:

Strongly tied to their home/family, whether they want/like it or not. Private about family life. Need their space a lot. Sort of clingy to their family and home but at the same time want to break out of it. Get defensive if you get too close or vulnerable. Have a natural ability to nurture but always nurture themselves first. Familial responsibility is embedded in them. May have been spoiled with attention, especially in childhood but have hated it, or have come to hate it. On the other hand, might have felt very ignored by their family memebers. Might have a very traditional family that values culture, upholding to moralities, and appearance.

Family is not the worst thing in the world and I know the ties might hurt, but there is truth and stability there for you. Find peace there and the rest will fall in place.

Ketu in the 5th house:

Fun, creativity, art has deep meaning to them. Life is built on entertainment for them. Their life is a soap opera. Dramatic and expressive. Art is their religion. Can be ignorant of other's preferences and naturally assert dominance when the situation concerns creativity, entertainment and art, even remotely. Only know what they like and don't seek to be trendy in their preferences, it's very personal to these natives. Can be selfish and get lost in hedonism. Don't discriminate between pop and indie, or discriminate harshly. Not easily infulenced in general but easily persuaded if you know their "weak points"/preferences. Generous with their attention if others can pay even more attention to them.

Yeah, life is art, but it's not for profit and not always for show. Learn to be humble when life demands it. It IS your life, but before you get lost in the art, make sure you're rooted in the truth of it.

Ketu in the 6th house:

Resilient, distrustful but relaxed. Healthy and helpful, very practical and balanced. Might have had health struggles that have shaped them and made them stronger. Natural medicine>chemicals. Will take chemicals if they consider it correct and see no other way. Expert at making the best out of the worst situations. Not confrontational but can put people in their place. On the other hand, might not hesitate one bit and be direct in times of tension. Know how to look after themselves and hate it when others interfere. Won't take advice even from close people, have a very unique and personalised way of looking after themselves, as well as a unique/personalised routine. Obstacles might persist but they can't to much to these people. Skillful and quietly cunning but it's not much work.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, and squeeze them in other people's eyes if needed. You gotta be selfish sometimes, what can you do. Every day is a gift and the routine is a privilge. Don't be mean about it.

Ketu in the 7th house:

Lovers and supporters. Recognize other people easily and connect to them deeply and effortlessly. Charming and genuine. Recogize the truth behind connections and human behavior, sensitive to one-on-one dynamics. Good listeners, excellent company, giving and humble but know how they gain from relationships and connections. Value harmony and conflict resolution. Naturally attune to others and find their sense of self through them. Know how and what to sacrifice for others but have strong and specific boundaries. Love has a deep meaning to them, any kind of love. Important relationships are full of intricacy and are laced with destiny.

We are parts of something bigger than us, and we all have stories to tell. Keep finding yourself through other people and keep helping others find themselves. "Karmic" ties are not punishment, they're the simple truth.

Ketu in the 8th house:

Complicted internally, don't make much of it. Each crisis is an opportunity to gain. Survival IS life. Never reveal too much of themselves and easily read others, but can be stubborn about seeings things in only their way. Incorrect judgement costs them a lot, correct judgement gives them enormous power. Struggle anyways. Casually intense. Se×ual and private. Privacy is a must. Go through a lot of pain and become savage if their privacy is invaded. Know that selfishness is very selfless. Quietly independent, confidently dependant, carefully engaging. Adaptible but out of necessity. Hide their intensity, along with other things, very well.

The complications are alright, don't be afraid of the unknown, or fear itself. It's okay to go deep, it's okay to not, it's ok to survive however it is possible for you.

Ketu in the 9th house:

Philosophy is natural. They find truth everywhere if only they detach. They seem "higher" than others, and seem to be enjoying it. Truth is simple and exhilirating for them. They need their freedom. They exude a sense of wander and assuredness. Don't really care about conventional morals as most people see them and have a hightly personal sense of right and wrong. Religion is very familiar to them, whatever it has been. Talk to "god" and "the divine" to feel comfort, might not realize it fully. Their faith has been tested and strengthened, and they themselves might have tested their own others' faith. Might feel like nobody will understand their exact beliefs, but understand others' beliefs. Even if they feel lonely sometimes, places of worship feel weirdly reasuring. Can become a little arrogant.

Your ideals are not too high and mighty. You know what you know, and you should know that you do. Not everyone can ground themselves in a grand and utopian place. Don't let possible arrogance blur or exaggerate it.

Ketu in the 10th house:

Legacy is inherited. The world can feel like their oyster. Even if not much is going well, they might feel supported by people in power, and usually, they are, even though they never really asked for it. Older people and those with more experience bring out their natural competence and maturity. Might come from a line of influence, usually from father's side. Easily gain aqcuaintances but feel like they have to work hard to gain and keep friends. Might feel like they have much to lose but don't worry about it. Family prince/princess, or people's prince/princess, but in a quiet way. Naturally self-possessed. Might feel chained by obligations.

There are those who will stand by you as you pull back and detach. When you go into the world, people see you, and you know how to act. You don't really care about your reputation, but it cares about you. Don't lose a good thing, embrace and enjoy it, because in that, you will find your truth and your power. That stability that is too familiar to you, it's a huge privilege.

Ketu in the 11th house:

Everyone's friend, everyone's confidante, one of the girls/boys. The gang is what they trust, but they don't look for the gang. The gang is just there. Friends flock to them and they welcome all, but friendships are private and their business. The kind of people that don't have to do anything for friends to find them. Might feel like they act like a constant chameleon to everyone but feel comfortable in that place. Can be too neutral to strangers, but become proud activists for causes that are close to their heart. Strongly unbiased and multi-faceted. Others feel relieved when they're around at gatherings. Can be very uncaring and dismissive, unless you are one of their people.

You're lucky with support. Even if friends have dissapointed you, you have gotten something valuable and worthy out if it. There are those that are your people, and those that aren't. Don't lose sight of that, but be honest with discerning who is who.

Ketu in the 12th house:

What really lights them is hidden and reserved only for them. Selfless like it's nothing. Deep and understanding, floating through life like a fish following their own current. They can gently hold your hand through harshest times but it's so subtle you'll barely realize you've been affected by them by the time it's almost done. When they get lost, they really get lost, and that's when and where find themselves. Hate to force things and know how to be humble. Private like no one else. If life gets too hollow they become a recluse. Nobody sees what depths they carry within at first, but some might suspect, by their restrained behavior, or by an innocent yet wise look in their eyes. They're not mad when they go into themselves, and no matter how much you try to get to them, if they can't, they won't hear you. But it does not matter. In their own way, they hear and see everyone, and through them, they see and hear themselves.

Oh, yes, confusion is huge and it seems overwhelming. You know how to find comfort in that. So many sides to life, so many truths. If others tell you you're deluded, do not forget that everyone is. When your sacrifice and martyrdom becomes too much, stay only with yourself once more.

#vedic astrology #astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology tumblr #ketu #ketu in houses #south node

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reachartwork · 2 months ago

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"The Goon Economy: Why People Choose to Work for Supervillains"

Leslie Lester, for Psychology Today, October 2022

When asked why anyone would choose to work for supervillains, most people imagine costumed henchmen cackling maniacally while fighting Spider-Man. The reality is far more mundane - and more economically fascinating.

"It's just a job," says Former Employee X under the condition of anonymity, who worked security for a major East Coast villain organization. "Better benefits than Netsphere, better pay than private security, and yeah, higher risk, but you've got clear procedures for hero encounters. Most guys never even see a cape."

The numbers support this pragmatic view. While exact figures are difficult to obtain, conservative estimates suggest supervillain organizations employ hundreds of thousands of workers across the U.S., from direct muscle to legitimate business employees. The total economic impact likely rivals major corporations.

But why choose such high-risk employment? Dr. Sarah Chen, economist at MIT, suggests three key factors:

Economic Pressure: "In cities with active supervillain presence, these organizations often control major employment sectors - construction, shipping, waste management. Sometimes working for them isn't really a choice."

Risk vs. Reward: The average "muscle" for a villain organization makes 1.5-2 times standard security work, with comprehensive health coverage and legal protection. "When you're living paycheck to paycheck," Chen notes, "guaranteed medical care becomes very attractive."

Systemic Integration: Many workers start through legitimate businesses, becoming gradually involved in illegal activities. "It's rarely a conscious choice to 'become a minion,'" Chen explains. "It's more like finding out your company has mob ties - but you've got a mortgage and kids in school."

The psychology is equally complex. Dr. James Morrison of Harvard explains: "These organizations offer what many legitimate employers don't: clear advancement paths, protection from both heroes and rivals, and often a sense of belonging. They're filling gaps in our social safety net."

The rise of powers-based crime has only increased this trend. "Supervillain organizations have better protocols for superhuman encounters than most legitimate businesses," Morrison notes. "If you're working in a city where hero-villain battles are common, that matters."

#writing #web serial #creative writing #worldbuilding #superhero #sci fi #chum #chum web serial

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simping-acefully · 1 year ago

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Ep 3 got me acting really unwise

Nsfw headcanons for Laios under the cut (gn unspecified partner for Laios)

Warnings: NSFWish, probably ooc, reader insert implied?, probably not very sexy because I used this for character analysis.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Laios is very attentive, though he's also very insecure when it comes to engaging with others. So I imagine he'd be a little clumsy, though very eager to provide the best aftercare for his partner. He's also very cuddly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The favorite part of his own body are his hands. They are strong and calloused, and he's used them to protect others and to create new stuff! (Aka, cooking) the fact that those hands can also help him please a partner is a plus.

On a partner? Probably lips. I imagine Laios struggles to read people's facial expressions (the 'tism go brr) but seeing his partner's smile is reassuring. He also really likes running his thumb over them and maybe getting his fingers nibbled.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot.He has tasted his own cum out of curiosity in the past, too. And if he had a partner that ejaculated or squirted he would be delighted to taste it all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has probably jerked off to thoughts of his partner before they get together and it's eating him alive :(

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zero experience, lots of book knowledge though! He's confused but he's got the spirit. Will need some leading at first, but he's a quick learner and is curious enough to experiment and try new things once he's gained confidence.

As an ace myself, I like to think that Laios is either ace too, or has a low drive and thus, sexual intimacy is a matter of doing something intimate and unique with a partner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that will allow him to see his partner's face for smooching! The emotional intimacy is the most important part for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to be serious to the point he's almost uptight. But his clumsy and eager nature ends up organically devolving into somewhat goofy intimacy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes, but this man keeps it all natural because ?? Why would he waste time/energy on such things??? (Aka, he's not used to grooming the area, but he would do an effort if asked)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very!! The main driving force for the act. Laios is constantly kissing and checking with his partner. He loves them so much and this is a physical way to convey those feelings!

He holds hands with his partner, kisses their face and neck and tries to keep them as close as possible, the mental image of melting into a puddle together comes to mind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it often, but when he does it's more of a thing of connecting with his own body than getting rid of any urges. He won't be able to get off unless he's in a good mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Has a wee bit of a praise kink that he doesn't fully understand.

Shibari is one he wants to delve into, too. There's something to be said about the artistry of the knots, and the feeling of compression can be quite comforting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Probably his partner's bed. He shares a room with Falin, so intimacy on his place is a no-no. He doesn't particularly enjoy motels or inns either because he feels kind of self conscious/pressured to perform within a time limit. He was to take things slow and he wants to cuddle to sleep afterwards, dammit!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think his biggest driving force is an emotional connection. He craves to be understood and loved, so feeling that coming from his partner will make him want to show his appreciation in a physical way.

Probably jealousy is another good way to make Laios seek out his partner. He wants reassurance, to kill any doubts in his mind and any lingering feelings of inadequacy.

Also adrenaline too! Sometimes when the blood is pumping, his mind wanders. If he and his partner just were in a situation of danger, the physical reminder that they are there, alive and safe will make him desperate to feel them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn't like/understand degradation, and wouldn't do anything that he felt could hurt his partner.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, and lives for pleasing his partner! He's not very skilled at first, but he's very observant and receptive, so he gets the hang of what his partner likes even if they do not say so themselves.

However, after getting head himself, he's hooked. He loves it, he loves the look on his partner's eyes and the physical feeling is overwhelming on the best possible way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually slow and sensual, unless he just had a life or death situation with his partner, then he's desperate and anxious.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not one to really go for quickies, but if he's on the rare mood for one, he'll be sure to get and give lots of affection.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Laios would be interested in trying everything at least once. He's curious and inquisitive, and just as he is fascinated by monsters, he's fascinated by his partner and wants to learn what turns them on, and see what also works for him

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina for days! He can last one very long round. If he didn't get sleepy and cuddly afterwards, he could probably do more, but hnnnggg comfy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own toys, but if introduced to them he's up for trying pretty much anything, both on himself and his partner.

I can see him growing particularly attached to non-human looking dildos/strap-ons and ropes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not much of a tease, but he low-key enjoys being teased. He doesn't seem to understand it, or be fully aware of the fact, but yeah.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud out the impulse to self restrain, but Laios is a whiner. He can get pretty loud when he's about to cum though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would love to roleplay as a monster with their partner but when he did bring up the idea he got laughed off and passed it off as a joke. It was not a joke.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I like to think that it would kind of mimic his silhouette, length slightly above average and overall on the thicker side. The widest point is right after the head.

Not very high at all. I kinda imagine Laios on the gray sexual spectrum so, it only becomes a thought after he begins pining for his eventual partner. It starts with him wondering how soft their hands would be, how about their neck and lips? And it eventually escalates to wandering thoughts of intimacy.

Once he does become intimate with a partner, he longs for intimacy more than he longs for sex itself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

VERY. He's an eepy man.

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios x reader #laios headcanons #dungeon meshi x reader #laios imagine #delicious in dungeon x reader #laois headcanon #not kid friendly!!!#minors dni with this post

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trustmypoison · 2 months ago

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SVT doing acts of service

Requested? Yes!

Request: 'seventeen members and what they would for their partner who’s love language is acts of service :)'

A/N: there are so many different kinds of acts of service, but I picked the ones that really stuck out to me.

Seungcheol - car maintenance and care

You haven’t had to fill up your gas tank in months, years even, because it never seems to come close to empty. You haven’t thought about needing an oil change or tire rotation because the little sticker in the corner of your windshield always looks new. You forget how a drive thru car wash works because your car is always sparkling. And if your check engine light ever does come on with an actual issue, best believe he’s swapping cars for the day to take care of it. Almost entirely motivated by you being safe, but the shiny car with a full tank of gas kind of makes him proud when he returns it to you.

Jeonghan - does the dishes

You said a single time that dishes were your least favorite chore. You grumbled about it but had every intention of doing it as soon as you could work up the motivation. But he’s rolling his eyes lovingly, pushing you back towards your seat saying, “I’ll do it, but you’re so whiney.” Don’t let it fool you. He doesn’t mind it and even tells you to just leave it for him later. Might even scold you a little bit if you didn't leave them for him.

Joshua - always makes coffee

Absolutely does not matter how early he has to wake up or if it might make him late, but he’s starting the coffee pot. You said one time that you were running late and really needed coffee but didn’t have time to make any or stop somewhere. So every morning when you rush around the apartment to get ready for work, you find fresh coffee with an insulated cup next to the pot for you to fill and go. So small yet so nice at the same time.

Jun - cooking dinner

You get a little stressed about dinner. After a long day, it’s so, so easy to come home and say “fuck it, I’m ordering something.” But you lament how expensive and unhealthy that habit is sometimes, so you occasionally come home and are surprised to see him there too, cooking dinner. Will not listen to a single second of nagging for him to rest because he really doesn’t mind if it reduces your stress and ensure you’re eating properly and actually wishes he could do it more often.

Hoshi - packing your lunch

Similar to Jun, but you often forget to pack lunch the night before and can’t do it in the morning when you’re running late. He sends you to get ready for bed and says he’ll be there in a few. The next morning, he reminds you to grab your lunch from the fridge on your way out. It’s not always this super cute, aesthetically pleasing box lunch, but it’s always nice that he thinks to do it at all.

Wonwoo - organizing your things

You have a pile of things that need to be put away and organized, be it books, or clothes, or groceries. He’ll take over without really being asked. Your bookshelf is neatly alphabetized. Your closet is organized by color or item type, whichever you prefer. Your groceries are put away to your preferences, whether it be by date of expiration or on low shelves to ensure you can reach it. Will not accept any thanks because he just likes doing it.

Woozi - filling up your water bottle

At the first sight or sound of your water bottle draining, he’s holding out his hand expectantly. Does not matter if you tell him you can do it yourself because you’re wasting your breath. Very much an “I know, but let me do it.” And you do let him do it a majority of the time because it’s kind of sweet how quickly he responds.

DK - shoulder rubs

This feeds a little bit of the physical touch love language too, but it is still most certainly an act of service. If he sees that you’ve had a hard day or your shoulders are tense, he’s pulling you in front of him or coming up behind your seat to rub out your shoulders. It makes you melt, not only because it feels good and relaxes you, but because it’s always ended with a little kiss and a “feel better?”

Mingyu - takes care of your pet

Literally the first to volunteer to scoop the litter box, or walk the dog, or clean out the fish tank. Doesn’t matter what kind of pet you have, he wants to learn about it and help you care for it. This also extends to making time for vet appointments when you’re too busy to do it yourself. If you ever say anything about how he doesn’t need to do all that, he’ll cry out, “but that’s our child!!” Don’t deny him his time with his child.

Minghao - opens things for you

Another one that does the whole “I know, but let me.” He barely watches you struggle to open something for a second before he’s holding out his hand or just straight up taking the item from you. Might even preemptively open things for you before he hands them to you. It’s a totally silent, easy way to show he cares so please let him keep doing it.

Seungkwan - dries your hair for you

(I’ve definitely written about this before for him, so this was an obvious choice.) Knows you’re usually tired by the time you shower at night, so he’s making you sit down in the bathroom so he can meticulously dry your hair for you. He kind of likes how it puts you to sleep too because it means it was relaxing or soothing for you. Will never let you touch a hair dryer if he’s around.

Vernon - untangles things for you

It starts with your headphones. You lament that the cords always get tangled and bent in your bag. He takes the headphones from you right then to untangle them. He even winds the cord neatly so it won’t happen when you put them back in your bag. This little habit extends to things like necklaces when they get knotted or tangled in one another. He doesn’t even let you ask about it - if he sees a tangled necklace on your vanity or counter that you left to deal with later out of frustration, he’ll just stop and do it right then. Another one that won’t accept any thanks because he doesn’t mind doing it.

Chan - organizing your medicine

Doesn’t want you to forget it, no matter what you might take it for. Buys a little pill organizer and sits down once a week to fill it up for you. It’s such a little thing that sometimes you forget you never have to do it. It’s just magically always full at the beginning of the week. He usually knows when you’ve run out of a medication and need a refill before you because of this little habit, and might take initiative to get them for you when he can.

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topgun-imagines · 6 months ago

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Permanent State of Oblivion

Requested: yes

Summary: Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the Hard Deck.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: drinking, arguments, angsty feelings.

Pairings: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

“I just- I don’t know what to do about him, Nat.” You were seated across from Natasha on her bed, hand in hers as she worked on your nails. One well-kept secret about Phoenix was that she was incredibly talented in nail art; a secret that you regularly capitalized on as her best friend. She often used you for practice, like she was doing right now. Silently, the pilot nodded, used to your ranting about Bradley by now. “He’s just so- so oblivious.”

Unbeknownst to Bradley, you’d had a massive crush on him for months. You had been friends with the mustached pilot for nearly three years. He was an amazing friend, and in that department, you couldn’t ask for more. The only issue that you had was that apparently, Bradley was blinder than a bat. No matter how hard you tried or how obvious you made it, Bradley never picked up on your crush on him.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind that your feelings remained a secret, however; your feelings had reached the point where you knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. The only option left was to try and tell Bradley how you felt.

Painting one of the roses on your nails, Nat weighed in on the situation. “He’s an idiot.” Her choice of words had you stifling a giggle, receiving a playful glare when your hand twitched. You murmured an apology as she continued. “The only way he’s gonna realize how you feel is if you’re straightforward about it.”

A groan bubbled out of your chest. You hated confrontation. Surely if Bradley was smart enough to be in the top one percent of all naval aviators, he was smart enough to realize your feelings for him. Right?

“I know, I know,” You started, “I just wish he could open his eyes for once.”

“Maybe if he shut his mouth for once his eyes would have some room to work,” Phoenix muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn the pilot was. The two of you descended into giggles as Natasha finished off your nails.

Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, blasting music as you drove to the hard deck. Jake had organized a night out for the group, and the two of you certainly weren’t ones to pass on a fun night out with friends. As Natasha hadn’t hesitated to point out, maybe you would finally get the chance to tell Bradley how you felt.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Jake’s truck. The two of you hopped out and headed into the bar, already plotting what interesting drink orders you could try and get Penny to make this time. The second you stepped into the bar, you were greeted loudly by the group of aviators. With large smiles, you and Phoenix joined the group and were quickly pulled into whatever idiotic story Jake was telling. Unsurprisingly, your eyes quickly found Bradley.

Phoenix pretended that she couldn’t see how your stare lingered on your coworker. While you knew that Phoenix knew, you were oblivious to the fact that Jake and Bob had also figured out your little secret. Natasha forbade them from saying anything or trying to persuade Bradley into doing anything stupid. God only knows that if they told that fool to make a move on you he’d find some way to mess it up.

As Jake rambled on about some hilarious incident from his recent vacation back in Texas, you couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you told Bradley the truth. Honestly, you were tired of wasting time. You didn’t want to miss out on anything anymore. Even if Bradley didn’t feel the same, you needed to know. At least then you would be able to move on knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of you.

Natasha’s elbow in your side pulled you out of your depressing thoughts. She fixed you with a knowing look, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the rest of the group dispersed at the end of Jake's story. “Tell him,” she urged you quietly. “We both know that he’ll never figure it out on his own.” And with that, you mustered up all the courage that you could before disappearing into the crowd to find Bradley.

Suddenly, Bob and Jake popped up over Natasha’s shoulder. “Twenty bucks says the dumbass still finds a way to screw it up.” Bob and Natasha hummed in agreement.

By the bar top, you were just about to call out to Penny to ask where Bradley was when you spotted it; a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and a pornstache that could put all the rest to shame. It took a couple of minutes of maneuvering through the intoxicated crowd, but eventually, you were standing right behind him. At the soft tap on his shoulder, Bradley spun quickly, surprised to find you standing there.

“Hey Bradshaw,” you started, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded for you to continue. “I just wanted to tell you that-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by some blonde winding her arms around his shoulders and peppering kisses up the side of his neck. Your words died in your throat as you started at the scene in front of you. Bradley didn’t even try to push her off. You felt sick to your stomach.

Noticing the tears welling in your eyes, the blonde smirked. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She sounded innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing by trailing her finger across his chest and sucking a mark into the skin of his neck. You could only shake your head, feeling bile rise in your throat. The room suddenly seemed hot; you were desperate to find a way out of there. Before you knew it, you were shoving your way through the crowd and out the door of the bar.

With the blonde still clinging to his side, Bradley looked around the room in confusion. He met Natasha’s stern gaze and instantly knew that he had screwed it up somehow. Bradley huffed and pushed the blonde off of him, rolling his eyes at the scoff she let out. Then he was following after you, leaving the chaos of the bar behind him as he chased you into the parking lot. “Hey!” He called out, hand grasping your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?”

You jerked your wrist out of his hand and spun to face him angrily. Your face was hot with anger and Bradley could have sworn he saw steam coming from your ears. Despite all this, he could see tears welling in your eyes. “My problem?” You seethed, stepping dangerously close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “My problem, Bradshaw, is that you’re ignorant enough to let that- that slut hang off your arm without a care in the world!”

It killed you to see him standing there with her, but what was worse than all of that, was the fact that he didn’t care in the slightest. It’s not like she was someone he was seeing; she was just a random face in the bar. Somehow, that made things worse to bear.

Bradley scoffed and dismissively shoved your finger away from his chest. “Why the fuck do you care?” You could only stare at him, searching for the words he wanted to hear. “That chick had nothing to do with you, and you know that so what the fuck is your problem?” He paused, his words cutting deep as you searched for a response.

Behind him, the bar door opened revealing Jake, Bob, and Natasha. They watched silently as you continued to rip into each other.

“You know what, you fucking dick?” You were close to him once more; so close that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You are the most ignorant, self-absorbed person I have ever met.” With each accusation, you drove your finger into his chest harder, despite his attempts at brushing it off. “You are so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you don’t even notice who you’re hurting!”

You had never spoken to him like this before. Sure, there had been little arguments here and there, but the rage that he saw in your eyes now was something new entirely. A single, angry tear dripped down your face. “You don’t think about anyone besides yourself! You certainly don’t care about them. And believe me, Bradshaw, you have made that more than obvious.”

The pilot in front of you scoffed once more, having no retort for your deep jab at his character. Of course, he cared for the people around him, and for you to suggest otherwise was, in his mind, unfathomable.

However, you didn’t stop there. “You are absolutely unbelievable! You are so oblivious it’s painful, Bradshaw. You must have your head stuck up your ass to miss every single hint I’ve been giving you for months!” You paused for a moment, waiting for Bradley to interject.

He didn’t, refusing to believe anything you said to be true. There was no way that you could have feelings for him. Was there?

He shook his head in annoyance. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out, hating how easily you were able to sidestep it. “Why the fuck do you care who I flirt with?” His voice was loud, even scaring those watching from the front steps of the bar. Bradley figured that you were probably having a bad day and had taken your anger out on him. Even though he hoped that this wasn’t the case and that you actually did care about who was flirting with him. It was wishful thinking; to imagine that you would ever see him as anything more than an annoying friend. He was sure of it.

You could only groan angrily with tears still tracking down your skin. “Jesus, Bradshaw, because I love you, you fucking idiot!” It was as if time stood still. That was what it felt like as you watched Bradley process the reality of the words that you had just shouted at him. No movement came from the pilot in front of you; the only sign of life being the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was no way it could be true. There was no way that a kind-hearted, sweet girl like yourself could ever fall for anyone as messed up as him. To Bradley, the mere idea of you having feelings for him was unfathomable.

For months, he had watched you from afar, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He slowly began to learn what you loved, from your favourite song to sing along to when you were drunk at 2 am to your favourite flavour of ice cream. Bradley learned what made you laugh until your stomach hurt and what made you cry until your cheeks were stained. He knew every little thing about you but he never acted on it, in fear that you would never feel the same. To know that all this time, you had feelings for him as well, was surreal.

The deafening silence grew between the two of you, moving until it encompassed the bystanders waiting in front of the bar with bated breath. Continuing to stare at the pilot, your mind was running a million miles a minute. What had you just done? Sure, the two of you were arguing, but that was no reason to bear your true feelings to the man. What if he didn’t feel the same? You were convinced that this had to be the case when he refused to move a muscle.

“Bradley,” you whispered, nerves showing through the shake in your voice. “Please, say something.” Your mind plagued you with thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You were fully expecting him to turn around and storm off, refusing to ever speak to you again. With tears filling your eyes once more, you pleaded one last time. “Bradl-”

Your eyes widened as Bradley cut you off in a way you would have never expected. In one fluid, sudden motion, Bradley had lunged toward you, his lips moulding softly with yours. His hands cradled your waist, holding you as if you were a delicate flower. You could have sworn you heard yourself squeak but honestly, you were too overwhelmed to tell.

As Bradley continued to kiss you gently, your eyes fluttered shut. You became lost in the feeling of his hand caressing your side. His pinky finger slipped under the hem of your top, drawing a light gasp from your lips. The kiss deepened as Bradley pulled you towards him by your waist and as your hand worked into his soft curls at the base of his neck.

A soft giggle slipped past your lips as that familiar pornstache that you were used to making fun of was now tickling your upper lip. The pilot smiled into the kiss at the feeling, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours lovingly mere seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” He whispered, causing more giggles to flow from your mouth. You could only nod, still starstruck by the actions of the man holding you.

For the second time this evening, you were close enough to the pilot that you were able to smell his breath. While the faint scent of alcohol was still present, you were now able to pick up the familiar scent of your strawberry lip gloss. One glance at his parted lips was enough for you to see the slight pink hue that your lip gloss caused him.

There was a lovestruck smile on his face; a stark contrast to the anger shining in his eyes merely twenty minutes ago. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked down at you. While he knew that he never stated it clearly, he was in awe of the wonderful woman that you were. As he thought about how perfect you were, guilt for the way he spoke to you before began to eat at him.

He cleared his throat, needing to make amends for his actions. “Seriously, though,” He started, eyes softening as he recalled the events from earlier. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. What I said was completely uncalled for and out of line.” The corners of your mouth twitched up in a forgiving smile as you reached up to stroke the corner of his mustache with your thumb. Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, rocking the two of you softly. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”

Your hand trailed from his soft cheek to the back of his neck as he shifted the two of you, fingers once again threading through the short curls. Warm, ocean air breezed past the two of you as Bradley held you close. Behind you, the sun was setting beautifully over the ocean. It painted the parking lot with a soft, pink glow. No matter how many sunsets you had seen before, for some reason, this one was the most beautiful. It was almost as if the beauty of the sunset reflected your feelings for each other. Despite the rocky road that it took you to get here, no moment had ever seemed as perfect as this one.

Unsurprisingly, your moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by the other aviators waiting at the steps of the bar. Your friends gradually made their way closer, unable to contain their questions and comments any longer. You felt Bradley sigh into the skin of your neck before he kissed it softly, causing butterflies to swarm in your chest. With your head still tucked into his chest, you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck at the realization that your friends had likely watched the whole event unfold. Despite the flush in your cheeks, you still made eye contact with each of them, dreading the inevitable bombardment of questions that were bound to come.

Even as you stood in front of your friends, ready to explain the rollercoaster of a scene they just witnessed, Bradley’s arms remained wound around your waist. His thumb moved over the bare skin of your side softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “No need to explain.” Nat offered with a reassuring smile. She could sense that you were hesitant to have to explain it all so quickly. Plus, she knew that she would get the details soon enough.

Together, Bob, Jake, and Nat offered you their congratulations before turning to head back to the bar. With his arm still around your waist, you and Bradley follow your friends in sync with each other. Your still-rosy cheek rested against his broad shoulder.

Jake wasted no time in collecting his winnings from the previous bet, pumping his fist in the air as Bob and Nat each handed Jake a 20. In the back of your mind, you briefly wonder why they handed him the cash in the first place. Once the five of you re-entered the air-conditioned comfort of the bar, Jake turned to you and Bradley, announcing that drinks were on him with that familiar, shit-eating grin on his face. That alone should have been enough to tell you that there was more to the story than you suspected.

Despite the weariness in both yours and Bradley’s minds, if Jake was offering to buy your drinks, who were you to turn it down? Just as you were about to take a sip of your beer, Bob piped up. “He bet you’d screw it up,” He quipped, grinning at the mixture of betrayal and shock written on Jake’s face that instantly took over his previous cocky expression. Within seconds Bradley had smacked his arm. While he was slightly annoyed that Jake had bet against him, he was more upset about the fact that he allowed Jake to win.

Bob and Phoenix continued to laugh at Jake’s dejected expression as you and Bradley watched fondly. The aviator pulled you into his side with gentle movements and your head fell onto his shoulder the second you were snuggled up against him.

In a state of bliss, you allowed your eyes to slip shut. You could only savour the feeling of being held in the arms of the man you loved. Tucked into Bradley’s side, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Turning his head, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which caused a glowing smile to blossom on your face. A giggle escaped you at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, leading to a smile mirroring your own taking over his sculpted features.

Sure, it had been a rocky road to get here, but you would do it all over again if it meant feeling like this for a moment longer. You loved Bradley, and it brought you more relief than one could ever imagine to know that he felt the same for you.

Simply put, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic that you no longer had to keep your feelings a secret. Ecstatic that you could see a future blossoming between you and Bradley. Despite not knowing what that future held, you were positive that you and Bradley would be together for a long, long time to come.

However, one thing was for certain; Bradley Bradshaw was the most oblivious man you knew.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open. I’m excited to be back <3

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 7 months ago

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That’s Not My Neighbor (1) | Yandere Bnha

“I’m sure you didn’t have a nose piercing the last time I spoke with you, Mister Kirishima. Besides you're not on today's list.”

“Wait it’s not what you think please–”

“Sorry.”

As apathetic as your reasoning you clicked the button and began to dial the D.D.D. It didn’t matter that there was frantic and harsh banging against the closed metal doors. All that did matter was that the shouts and struggles of D.D.D agents were quieting down. The metallic door came up to show the mysterious build of the building’s agent.

“The cleaning protocol is completed. You may continue your job.”

“Thank you.”

You look down to reorganize and once over the documents you had; stopping when you find the agent still standing in front of your window, gas mask, and all.

“Do you need something?”

Instead of apologizing or defending themselves they simply stood there. Rolling your eyes you put the documents down, sending a light glare. They were in the way of possible residents. Which means wasting time on your shift.

It was three minutes before a voice crackled again.

“You—took up more shifts.”

Resisting the urge to sneer you took to restacking your papers while you answered.

“I did. Is there a problem?”

“I thought the other guy would be here at this time.”

Refusing to hide your anger this time you slammed your papers down as you leaned back in the chair.

“On the books he is but he had an emergency so I’m filling in, my shift is next anyway.”

“...Are you getting paid for this?”

So that was why…You sighed, no longer scrunching your eyebrows. Flashing a small smile you straightened your posture.

“He owes me a favor and lunch; so I’ll be okay.”

They stood a little while longer before bowing their head and making their way out of the building. You wondered if this meant one of you was going to get fired. Pushing that aside you continued to look ahead waiting for the next possible resident to walk through.

Your gaze was so fixed on the window you failed to hear the squeaking of the door of your office and the steps behind your back. Only squealing when your chair suddenly twirled around to reveal an intruder.

“HIya (Y/n)!”

“Eeep!”

“Don’t get so nervous just wanted to stop by!”

It was Denki Kaminari, resident in F2-03 shared with Hitoshi Shinso, piercings on his ears, yellow hair with a black stripe, and an occasionally derpy look on his face. His current employment is as a private electrician, which means he’s often called out for emergencies and may not always be on the list.

Which he isn’t because he’s got the day off.

“Sir Kaminari please don’t surprise me like that. I am working.”

“Sir?! Ouch, (Y/n) you wound me!”

He fakes a shot to the heart wobbling around before dramatically falling onto the floor.

“It’s not healthy to take a job as dangerous as harshly as you do. You know all the residents have countermeasures.”

It’s Shinso Hitoshi, a private detective, and D.D.D reporter, with crazy purple hair and eyes with bags under them, and a hanging earring on his left ear. He also isn’t on the list today. Figures, his work is sporadic and Shinso is an insomniac homebody.

“Yes, but my job is meant so that you won’t have to use them. I must stay vigilant against Doppelgangers.”

He sighs and scratches at his unruly head. He kicks his partner who is still playing dead on the floor. Kaminari stands up swiftly to once again invade your space as you fail to scoot your chair away.

“So have you eaten today?”

You pushed him away, turning to your window once again, scanning the perimeter before speaking over your shoulder.

“I keep myself hydrated when I’m working.”

Shinso sucked his teeth, coming to your right side as he glances at the files you’ve neatly organized. Kaminari follows his lead going on the opposite side to poke at your phone and the list. You swatted his hands away.

“That doesn’t sound like an answer.”

You sighed, “Relax. My coworker promised to give me lunch as compensation for taking his shift.”

What should have soothed their worries instead made them more upset. Both of them glaring at you.

“If he’s going to give you lunch but you're taking his shift today, that means you’re not eating lunch today.”

“Yeah..what he said!”

You sighed again standing from the chair to turn the both of them away. Putting your foot down–you cross your arms and look at them with your customer-service smile,” As an extension of D.D.D I’m tasked with not only guarding the door from doppelgangers but protecting my health.

Kaminari was making that infamous dumb face and Shinso was just about mirroring him.”

Nonetheless, you continued,” It’s important to the D.D.D that their door people are in their best working conditions and I am paid handsomely to do that. “

Shinso was the first to try to speak narrowing his eyes as though he was questioning the validity of the statement.

“Wait, hold on–”

But you continued, “If you have any complaints, please call the non-emergency number if you’d like to make a complaint.”

As if timed perfectly a knocking at the glass had you hurriedly hopping and turning in your chair to look through the window. Looking more exhausted than Hitoshi was what looked like the teacher Aizawa Shouta, who was glaring at the couple past your head.

“I’m about to file a complaint if you don’t check my ID and Entry request.”

“Sorry sir. Right away sir.”

Nothing was out of line, everything matched and thus you let him in. A passing glance at the reflection behind you showed both of them sporting an annoyed grimace. Sending a side–eye to the grumpy teacher their gazes were still fixed on you.

“(Y/n) if you’re the only one working you need to take an appropriate break.”

“I already said–”

“No (Y/n) whether the D.D.D okays it or not this isn’t healthy.”

Hitoshi’s interruption was a lot harsher than his usual speech, the kind you imagined he used when speaking to captured doppelgangers. It made your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up.

Feeling the heat of someone’s breath on your neck, you hadn’t noticed Kaminari closing the gap between you two. You wanted to turn but you could feel his arms cross over the arms of the chair trapping you in your seat and leaving you far too close to look him in the eye.

“I think as concerned neighbors we ought to intervene. What do you say Hito?”

“Guys I haven’t been working that long really–”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Taking advantage of the wheels on your chair Kaminari pulled you away from the desk, holding you in your chair to the doorway leading to the apartments. Hitoshi made quick work of your station closing everything locking the doors and closing the office window slot.

“But there’s only one more for my shift please—at least let them in!”

At your behest, Hitoshi rolled his eyes looking at the list of expected tenants before scowling at the one uncrossed name on the list.

“I honestly think having a doppelganger is better than him.”

You wanted to protest but Kaminari quite easily tossed you over his shoulder as he skipped down the hall. Watch from your bobbing perspective as Hitoshi easily locks up your office with your backpack in hand. How did he know where the key is?

Trying to speak up, you were shaken by Kaminari trying to get your attention with his smile as though he wasn’t abducting you.

“So what should we have for lunch (Y/n)? Beans and Rice? Meatballs? Katsudon?”

“Come on (Y/n). He’s not going to stop until you say what you’re going to eat.”

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mindfulstudyquest · 12 days ago

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀

𝟭. travel ( ✈️ )

2024 took away many travel opportunities from me. i was supposed to go to barcelona with my family, but my grandfather passed away, and we stayed in italy to handle the funeral. i was supposed to travel to sofia with my cousin, but one of my exams was rescheduled to a date i couldn’t possibly miss, so i had to give up the trip. lastly, i was planning to go to valencia to celebrate my birthday, but a flood disrupted the city, and i couldn't go anymore.

in short, it was a frustrating year in this regard — i lost a lot of money and, most importantly, many opportunities to travel, which i believe has significantly inhibited me in this area. while i used to be much more inclined to book last-minute trips when the chance to travel on a budget arose, now i feel much more anxious about doing so.

i want 2025 to be filled with travels. i want to fully take advantage of the opportunities that circumstances beyond my control stole from me in 2024.

𝟮. keep my life even more private ( �� )

it's been years now since i completely disappeared from social media. i no longer post photos or updates about my life online as if i were an influencer, and my daily life has significantly improved without the pressure to appear a certain way online. life is truly better when no one knows anything about you.

however, in real life, i'm quite the chatterbox, and i often find myself oversharing without even realizing it. that said, because i strongly believe in the evil eye, i've learned that, even if i have to bite my tongue, i can't share projects that are not yet completed — not even with the people closest to me, not even if i'm 100% sure they would be happy for me.

in fact, even though i cut off toxic people from my life two years ago, other friendships i thought were strong have ended this year. i want to live a peaceful, private life, even if that means staying silent. show results rather than plans.

𝟯. meditate and journal ( 🪴 )

i started this year (2024) well with this kind of self-care, but i completely lost it around may. i'll try again in 2025, hoping i can stick to it. if not, see you in 2026.

𝟰. indulge in healthy female friendships ( 🩷 )

two years ago, i cut ties with many toxic friendships that were holding me down and keeping me from healing. since then, i've been mostly alone, except for a few surviving connections i kept after high school. when i started university, i made new friendships, but they were very superficial and always centered around university matters.

however, since moving to spain, i've really understood which people were just taking from me without truly being interested in me as a person. in return, though, these past few months i've met some truly amazing girls in madrid, and i want to let myself indulge in that beautiful feminine energy that only girl friendships can give. wine and cheese in front of an episode of gilmore girls while you cut out pictures for your vision board.

𝟱. eat healthier ( 🥗 )

these past few months have been a rollercoaster with food. i've prepared a lot of homemade meals, but i've also ordered out quite often. i don't see anything wrong with ordering takeout or eating out with friends, but since it often happened when i was alone and didn't feel like cooking, i want to try to organize my cooking better and eat as many homemade meals as possible. of course, i won’t deprive myself of lunches and dinners out with friends, but i want to limit takeaway food to social occasions, not to lonely sundays.

it's been less than two years since i got out my ed and i want to keep the happy and healthy relationship with food i gained with so much hard work.

𝟲. keeping up with goals reached last year ( ☁️ )

obviously, all the work i’ve done over the past few years won’t go to waste! i want to persevere with the good habits i’ve developed and the work i’ve done on myself. the past few years have been strange and full of changes, but i feel like it’s all been positive. i’m happy with where i’ve gotten to and the person i’ve become, but i know i still have a long way ahead of me.

happy new year's eve everyone 🎉 which goals are you planning to reach?

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! By any chance, do you have synonyms or related words to "decompose"?

Thank you in anticipation!

Hi! Here are some words related to decompose:

Decompose—to break up into constituent parts by or as if by a chemical process

Addle - to become rotten; spoil

Atrophy - to waste away (as from disease or disuse)

Corrode - to wear away gradually usually by chemical action

Corrupt - rot, spoil; to cause disintegration

Crumble - to fall into small pieces; disintegrate

Curdle - to go bad or wrong; spoil, sour

Decay - to undergo decomposition

Decline - a gradual physical or mental sinking and wasting away

Deteriorate - to become impaired in quality, functioning, or condition; degenerate

Devolve - to degenerate through a gradual change or evolution

Dilapidate - to bring into a condition of decay or partial ruin

Disintegrate - to break or decompose into constituent elements, parts, or small particles

Dissolve - to separate into component parts; disintegrate

Fester - to undergo or exist in a state of progressive deterioration

Mildew - to become affected with mildew (i.e., a superficial usually whitish growth produced especially on organic matter or living plants by fungi)

Mold - to become moldy (i.e., covered with a superficial often woolly growth produced especially on damp or decaying organic matter or on living organisms by a fungus, as of the order Mucorales)

Mortify - to become necrotic (usually localized death of living tissue) or gangrenous (local death of soft tissues due to loss of blood supply)

Necrotize - to undergo necrosis (i.e., usually localized death of living tissue)

Perish - deteriorate, spoil

Putrefy - to undergo putrefaction (i.e., the decomposition of organic matter)

Putresce - to become putrescent or putrid; putrefy

Putrid - being in a state of putrefaction; rotten

Rot - to undergo decomposition from the action of bacteria or fungi

Rust - to be affected with a rust fungus

Sour - smelling or tasting of decay; rancid, rotten

Sphacelate - to become gangrenous (local death of soft tissues due to loss of blood supply)

Spoil - to lose valuable or useful qualities usually as a result of decay

Taint - to affect with putrefaction; spoil

Tarnish - to dull or destroy the luster of by or as if by air, dust, or dirt; soil, stain

Wither - to shrivel from or as if from loss of bodily moisture; to lose vitality, force, or freshness

Hope this helps with your writing. Do tag me, or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

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crguang · 3 months ago

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wasted with longing, part 4

In the face of such deep hurt, you have no choice but to come to terms with your feelings.

friends with benefits, f!reader, 6k words

A/N: don't really like this chapter cause it feels like a nothingburger but there it is... i swear i didn't mean to end it like that but the next block would have been too long to be in the same chapter so i had to chop it in two, forgive me 😞

also, it’s definitely still the weekend on the west coast so i am not late!!! we’ve officially written like 20k words for this series when it was supposed to be a couple crack fics, what even is going on

part three

Every so often, tremors travel through your legs to reach your twitching fingertips like a hundred tiny earthquakes along your limbs while you sit there, passive and morose. You stare at your open palms and observe the natural disaster occurring beneath your skin. Past the white walls of your apartment, the sun continues its ascent among the clouds but its warmth is fought off by the thick curtains of your living room and the heaviness settling inside of you. The blow of previous revelations has made your organs twice as heavy and has brought an ache to your trembling hands, birthing a sense of lethargy only the lost are familiar with. Not for the first time, you don’t know where you’re heading. For the first time, none of it matters; there is just the weight of your body rooted to the couch and the lines of your palms staring back at you, forming crooked letters that disappear with a blink. Your thoughts are a mess devoid of rationality focused on the sting of betrayal that you can feel at the corner of your eyes. She doesn’t deserve them, your tears. Then again, there is a lot that she didn’t deserve that you still gave willingly: your time, your attention, the flutter deep in your abdomen at the sound of her genuine laughter or the naive hope that you mattered more to her than you believed. Your mind is a whirlwind of possibilities that will never come to be and feed the dejection in your bones until your vision blurs at the edges from tears you refuse to let fall.

You recall the nonchalance with which she addressed her actions, the excuse of destiny as if you were all merely pawns in the hollow of its cold and detached hands. Some things are inevitable and all possibilities are already written. You wondered once what kind of life she must live to be so carefree, you understand now that it stems from a lack of responsibility and a distance between herself and accountability. Her nihilism reduces her to a footnote in a published novel, a droplet in the raging ocean; it takes away enough of her to make her believe that whatever she does is not a choice she fully makes herself. It feels like an excuse to justify not only her existence but everything she undertakes, blaming consequences on fate will always be easier as it relieves her from the pressure of guilt. In a way, it’s not so much carefreeness as passivity. You swallow to soothe the tightness of your throat. Some part of you pities how she lives and you wish you could choke it out with a pillow. Even now, you can’t snuff out feelings that have taken months to develop and solidify within you, and they feel like stones obstructing your blood vessels. It hurts this much because you unknowingly carved a seat for her inside the walls of your heart with her pocket knife, the same one she used to cut you. You can no longer differentiate then and now, whether you started falling for her the last time she left your bed or the first time she kissed you. However, you can’t deny that you’ve got her under your skin and the realization could not have happened at a less opportune moment.

This sucks. You don’t count the minutes you spend staring at your hands like they hold answers to questions you won’t get to ask in the future. At some point you find yourself laying on the couch again, looking ahead while your phone lies on the coffee table, undisturbed for the time being. Hours pass and your eyelids eventually grow heavy, each blink slower to come than the last. Your mind, perhaps to torture you, replays some moments you didn’t remember before this instant; falling asleep as she lights up a cigarette on the balcony outside your bedroom, moonlight stroking her hair and smoke blurring her face; nimble hands undressing you layer by layer with a patience that borders on reverence. The first time you met, your impression of her was that she took care of appearance and found it very important how she presented herself to the world. It was because of her clothes, partly, but mostly the confidence she radiated. She didn’t say too much or too little, and looked at you with a smile you selfishly wished was just for you. Her attention felt like a treasure not many were deserving of and her taste in fashion matched yours, she helped you pick out some clothes then you exchanged phone numbers in front of the store. You went your separate ways after that, but receiving a text from her an hour later turned you into a schoolgirl with a crush.

You thought you were making progress yesterday, that her seeking you out meant something more than a refusal to see a medical professional. The look in her eyes when she stared up at you in the bathroom… you wish you understood it, but something screams that it wouldn’t have changed a thing. You reminisce and ruminate until your eyes close and unconsciousness generously gives you a reprieve from the assault of your mind.

It’s almost 11 in the morning when you wake. Your neck is stiff from the armrest and your legs beg to be stretched after staying bent for hours. You rub the drowsiness out of your eyes with one hand and sit up slowly, brows furrowed and lips in a frown. It takes you a moment to do anything else, your phone buzzes with a notification three times in a row but you only look at your lock screen blankly. You don’t feel like doing anything, and after remembering the events of earlier today, you dread checking up on work. Still, your concern for the colleagues you get along with eventually wins out. You pick up the device and sift through the messages that were left unanswered yesterday, replying to your friends to assure them of your safety. Your thumbs travel across the screen mechanically, like you’re writing a professional email you have no interest in, but you are genuinely relieved to find out that they’re fine. You hesitate over Himeko’s contact name. She surely hasn’t heard of what transpired yesterday unless there was an IPC broadcast about it. You hope she hasn’t. You want the truth to come out of your lips, not some news network. Worry makes you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at her last text from the evening before. Himeko is one of your best friends, she’s understanding, compassionate and an expert at comforting others. You’re not worried that she’ll put the blame on you, just that your feelings will come to the surface once you start relaying everything that’s happened in detail.

You steel yourself, swallow once, and press the call button under her contact name. You bring your knees to your chest. The line rings a couple of times in your ears before the call connects and Himeko’s joyful voice sounds through the phone.

“Hey.” she greets you with a smile you can hear, “are you okay? You hung up on me yesterday.”

Your suspicions are confirmed, Himeko has no idea what went on the previous night.

“Sorry,” your own voice is strained from sleep and you cringe before clearing your throat. “Something… came up.”

“Is everything alright?”

Your stomach churns uncomfortably. You look at the floor and inhale quietly to calm the unease slithering up your trachea. “There was… an incident at work,” you say hesitantly. “A serious one.”

Himeko picks up on your tone and hers softens with her next question. “Are you alright? What happened?”

The words spill from your mouth all at once and Himeko doesn’t interrupt you as you give her a retelling of what you read in that article this morning, Kafka’s identity as both a Stellaron Hunter and the woman you’ve been “seeing”, how she showed up at your door injured yesterday and the moment you found out the truth just hours earlier. The line is silent save for your sometimes faltering sentences. Your eyes fall shut in the middle of your story and your fingers clench the phone in your hand, the knot in your throat tightening near the end of it. Saying it out loud, you realize how stupid you’ve been even if the clues weren’t obvious; you should’ve been more suspicious of her absences and deflections, shouldn't have been blinded by her attention and the way she made you feel, should’ve… You feel like an idiot in the face of Himeko’s silence. She digests the information you dumped on her before it’s even noon, and after a minute of quiet she finally speaks.

“Where are you now?”

“Uh, home,” you stammer, blindsided by the question. You half-expected her to lose her mind at the situation you find yourself in considering she was the one who tried to discourage you to enter a friends-with-benefits relationship, and now people have died by the hands of the woman you have feelings for. You pointedly omit the romantic feelings part for now.

“You should stay at a friend’s house, to be safe. The Stellaron Hunters are very dangerous and you could easily get wrapped up in their dispute with the law and the IPC. Take precautions and be safe, please.”

“Is that all you have to say…?”

“What do you want me to say, ‘I told you so’? You were manipulated, that’s what Kafka does. She bears all the blame here. And I’m sorry you were caught up in her schemes.”

You pause, staring at the coffee table in front of you. Her reassurances bring you no comfort. Your reply sounds small in your ears, “...A lot of people died.”

“I know…” You can almost picture the soft look in Himeko’s eyes. “But it wasn’t your fault. Whatever they had planned, they planned it long before you were brought into the picture. You couldn’t have stopped anything from happening.”

You nod slowly even though she can’t see you. You do your best to internalize that, but guilt still swirls within you and makes you nauseous. You stand from the couch to make your way to the bedroom, footsteps quiet along the wooden floors. You let the morning light envelop you once you reach the glass doors of your balcony and slide them open so the fresh air can enter your lungs and chase away the unpleasant feeling.

“No wonder you didn’t know anything about her,” Himeko continues, an edge to her voice, “it’s easier to play mind games when you’re kept in the dark. She’s truly despicable.”

You think of what Kafka said this morning about the source of her injury, how she got it looking for you amidst the chaos. You lean on the railing, observe the circulation of cars and pedestrians down below, but say nothing.

“I hope she never contacts you again. Did you block her number? Is it even her real one?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“You should block it anyway.”

She’s right. You put Himeko on speaker and let out a breath as you open your contacts, scrolling through the list and finding Kafka’s contact among it. For a few seconds you feel weak for your hesitation, thumb hovering over the “block caller” button, then you shake your head and press the red letters. You won’t make yourself available for her anymore.

“I did it,” you tell the woman on the other line and redirect your gaze to the buildings on the horizon.

“Good. What are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you… eventually work there again?”

“Ha. Not a chance.”

You don’t know what you’ll do, you haven’t planned this far ahead and were still on the fence about quitting your job before everything went down but there’s no way you’re going back to doing office work after today. In a way, the incident gave you the push you needed to do it. The price to pay for it was far too high.

You talk to Himeko for another half hour before she has to bid you goodbye to take care of the Express. She reminds you to pack a bag and go stay with a trusted friend, and she makes sure to be certain that you’ll take care of yourself before hanging up the phone. She’ll call again when she can, but in the meantime, you’re on your own. You don’t tell her that you don’t think Kafka means to put you in harm’s way and that you don’t feel comfortable leaving your apartment now. Knowing that you could have been one of yesterday’s victims if you had simply gone about your daily routine worsens your anxiety, and even if Kafka’s been inside your apartment countless of times before, you still feel safer within familiar walls.

You spend the day in low spirits, half of it sitting on your balcony with your knees to your chest and the other half laying face down in bed. You tell yourself that your free time will be dedicated to finding out what you want to do with your life. Then another day passes you by and when the third one comes around you still haven’t gotten out of the gray bubble you’ve unconsciously created for yourself. Your thoughts are repetitive and oppressive, so you sleep for hours to escape them. You avoid going out by ordering food or groceries. Your phone is constantly on ‘do not disturb’ because you can’t handle the grating alerts about funerals and financial compensation, you only pick it up to talk to Himeko once a day. She encourages you to see your friends, to not let yourself be swept away by the waves of negative emotions, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that you’re just not in the mood anymore. You make promises you don’t intend to keep in order to alleviate her concern and the guilt nesting in the pit of your stomach grows bigger with each one. You’re not helping yourself, you know, but it feels like all you can do is sit in your feelings as they ripple around you and you stare at the disturbances for hours, crestfallen.

In the evening, you await the takeout you ordered 30 minutes ago. You’re laying on the couch despite the TV not being on and feel drowsiness creeping up on you from doing absolutely nothing all day. Who knew inactivity could be so exhausting… You reach for your phone on the coffee table and tap the screen to see if your driver is nearby. He’s parked in front of your apartment building, so he should reach your door soon. You close the phone and wait some more until you hear firm footsteps on the other side of your door. You only stand up after a couple of minutes have passed to make sure he’s truly gone and won’t see you bringing your food inside. Opening the door reveals an unexpected find; the takeout bag lies next to a rectangular package that wasn’t there in the morning. You pick up the bag but stare at the box with a crease between your brows. Outside of food, you haven’t ordered anything else from the internet. You wonder if it’s a misplaced item and bend down to check the postal information. There’s no return address, but yours and your full name are written black on white. You decide that you must look like a weirdo, inspecting a package in the hallway with takeout in one hand, and you pick up the box before retreating inside.

Putting down the brown bag on the kitchen counter, you think perhaps the package is from a colleague or a friend, maybe even from Himeko since her return address is hard to find. You look for scissors to cut the tape holding the box shut and lift the lid. A pair of black velvet gloves lie on a similarly coloured coat, the inside of which is a dark shade of blue. The material is expensive judging by the gentle sheen on the fabric in the light, and you blink in confusion. It’s beautiful and a piece you would definitely feel compelled to buy if you saw it in a store, which means it must actually be meant for you. You pick up one glove to find that it fits perfectly with the size of your hand. It’s soft to the touch, you bring it to your cheek to feel the material against your skin. You spot a small card sticking out from one of the coat’s front pockets bearing only three words written in curvy letters: ‘Thought of you, K. <3’

The glove falls from your hand like it burns your palm and lands on the floor without a sound. Suddenly, the clothes aren’t a thoughtful gift but a mocking gesture meant to get a rise out of you. You tear the card into pieces. If anything, one could admire her limitless audacity, not you, but someone out there. She’s playing with you, taunting you to see how far she’s allowed to go before you lose your mind completely. That, or she deludes herself into thinking that she can buy your forgiveness with meaningless peace offerings. Either way, her obvious lack of care for your feelings hurts more than it should, and you’re once again reminded of your own weakness. You know that she doesn’t care, there’s no need to twist the knife in your already infected wound. Does she only see you as a toy for her entertainment? Is she incapable of even a bout of empathy or do you simply mean that little to her? The thought rotates in your head endlessly until you put everything back in the box and throw it in the trash.

Two days later, you find another package on your doorstep; two expensive pairs of slacks and three tops that are all exactly your size and your style. The note has only a handwritten K and a slim heart on it. You donate the clothes to a thrift store in the afternoon. It's the first time you’ve left your house since you learned the truth about Kafka’s identity.

Next Thursday, you accept a friend’s invitation to go out for drinks. Kafka’s stunts made you internalize what you've been telling yourself for weeks; you won’t pull the brakes on your life for a broken heart, certainly not for her. Being hung up on somebody who isn’t thinking of you at all is embarrassing enough, to allow her such a place in your mind after what she’s done is just pathetic. Despite your heart still not being it in, you dress up in clothes that always make you feel pretty and let your friends drag you to a bar where they dance for three hours and flirt with strangers for two more. The loud music makes it impossible to hear any words that aren’t shouted or whispered in your ear, its bass reverberates uncomfortably through your chest like a second heart. The night goes by with a drink in your hand that is replaced by another the instant its last drop lands on your tongue. Inebriated and surrounded by sweaty bodies, you forget all about the world beyond the cheers of your friends as you make out with a woman on the dance floor and the flavored liquor on your lips. The events that occurred between midnight and 3 AM are a haze when you wake up before lunchtime the next morning, body halfway off the couch and head throbbing so intensely you think you might pass out before you reach the bathroom for some aspirin.

You stumble into the room, squinted eyes barely seeing two feet in front of you, and fumble with the small plastic bottle of what you believe to be your magic pills. You swallow a couple of them and bend low to take a few sips of water directly from the running faucet. Your skull feels like it’ll split open with any strong enough stimulus. You sink to the cool floor and close your eyes, breathing as steadily as you can through your mouth to relax a little. You think you fall asleep for a while, leaning against the cabinets while the medicine does its job of reducing your headache to a dull pulse. Three firm knocks on your front door wake you up abruptly and you jerk away from the sink in surprise. You wipe the corner of your mouth. Blinking away remnants of drowsiness, you shakily stand on your bare feet and run a hand over your face as you walk to the entrance of your apartment. You hope you don’t look as bad as you feel, but you know that’s likely the case. Still, you adjust your clothes and your hair before opening the front door.

A mailman is waiting for you with a package in hand and thrusts a form in yours after a disingenuous greeting. You sign the paper confirming whatever delivery you just received, a little out of it. He leaves once the small square box is given to you. You walk back inside, turning the package over in your hands before tearing it open. A glittering necklace lies inside, nestled in suede. The gems embedded into it easily catch the light and would make a strong statement resting on any person’s collarbones. You stare at the jewelry, puzzled. Checking the package again reveals no return address, and if your mind was less hazy from this hangover, you would have guessed who the gift was from immediately. Your cell phone pings with a text, bringing you out of your confusion long enough to find it on the floor in front of the couch. You press the message to open the private conversation. The recipient has no caller ID and is texting you like you’re supposed to know who they are. You lay the jewelry box on the coffee table and reply quickly.

“Who the fuck is that…?” You slowly ask no one in particular, brows twisting in a frown.

You type in a text and send it. The reply you receive sobers you up like an ice cold shower. You rub your eyes with one hand and hold your phone a bit farther from your face as if it poses a threat to your safety, disbelieving. The nerve… There’s a familiar flutter in the depths of your belly but the sensation is uncomfortable now, eating at you and forcing you to take a deep breath.

You block the number before another message can pop up. Frustration bubbles up inside your chest, Kafka’s dedication to remaining a part of your life like a coffee stain on a white tablecloth is seriously messing with you. Make amends? She can’t be this dense. The gifts, her promise to send more— is her image of you so shallow that she believes you can be bought with fancy clothes and jewelry? None of these have been thoughtful or paired with a note that contains more than three words. She’s hurt you more than she understands, clearly. Your issues with her behavior are evident, you don’t believe the idea of them not computing in her mind, she’s smarter than that. She’s kept key details of her life from you, lied to you and caused over a dozen scientists to lose their lives for a component that could surely be found elsewhere, not to mention her treatment of you afterwards and her lack of remorse for the emotional damage she’s inflicted on you. Your feelings are more than justified and run deeper than petty grievances. You don’t understand her at all, and at this point, you don’t care to.

An offended scoff escapes your lips and your first reflex is to tell your best friend about the situation, looking to vent your irritation to a person that’ll stand by you no matter what unlike Kafka’s fickle attitude. You video call Himeko’s number and wait until she picks up at the last ring. Her fiery hair is slightly disheveled, held up tightly in a ponytail. She’s not wearing her usual elegant clothing and is instead clad in overalls with a plaid shirt underneath. Motor oil stains her cheek and fingertips as she waves at you through the screen. You think you can see engines and steam behind her, you can definitely hear hissing noises in the background.

“Uh… Are you busy?” You ask, taking in the dark stains on the front of her overalls. “Are you working on the Express?”

Himeko makes a sound of agreement. “Don’t worry, I always have time for you though. How are you?”

“Hangover. What’s wrong with the train?”

“Nothing as of three minutes ago. I just finished fixing some issues but it wasn’t anything too serious. I’m due for a shower. You said you’re hungover? You do kind of look… disheveled.”

“I appreciate the euphemism,” you sit cross legged on the couch. “I woke up not too long ago and immediately popped some over-the-counter medicine.”

“So you went out last night? Or were you drinking alone?”

“I went to a bar with some friends, took your advice and drank until I passed out.”

“That was not my advice.” Himeko’s frown makes you smile. “At least you left your house and returned safely. I told you it’d be good for you not to stay cooped up in here.”

You hum absentmindedly. “I don’t remember most of the night, honestly. I think I made out with someone for like… twenty minutes, four songs. But that’s not why I called— I got something in the mail today.”

Before Himeko can ask what it is, you reach for the jewelry box on the coffee table and hold it up to the camera so the necklace is in full view. You tilt it this way and that, the outside light reflecting prettily on the clear-cut gems. You watch Himeko’s eyebrows raise as she moves from her spot in the engine room, likely headed to her room for that shower she mentioned a few minutes ago.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous. Did you try it on?”

“No.”

“Is that a treat for yourself? You deserve it, you had a really rough week and it’d look good with that fancy low-cut top you have— the silk one?”

Maybe it would, too bad you’ll never wear it.

“I didn’t buy it, I got it as a gift,” you put the necklace down next to you and close the small box, making sure to put an emphasis on the last word.

“Oh? It must have cost a small fortune. From who?”

“Kafka.”

The easygoing smile Himeko wears disappears in an instant. She stops moving somewhere in a hallway, near panoramic windows that show the galaxy beyond them. Tiny creases form along her brows and she stares at you intently, worry and affront clear in her gaze.

“Kafka sent that to you?”

You nod. “She’s been sending me stuff all week, clothes mostly, but this one really took the cake because she texted me from an encrypted number afterwards.”

“Why won’t she leave you alone?” Himeko looks vexed on your behalf and you shrug, relieved that your feelings are validated by her anger. “What did she say? Please, tell me you blocked the number immediately.”

You hesitate a couple of seconds too long, Himeko’s shoulders slump and her lips part to reprimand you but you interrupt her readily, “I blocked her! I swear. She said she wanted to ‘make amends’ and it pissed me off so bad, I blocked her number again. Can you believe her ego? Does she think my world revolves around her, that I’m just waiting for her to make it up to me before I take her back with open arms? We didn’t even have anything. We used each other for sex and despite the semblance of good-natured relationship we had, she still chose to betray me!”

Himeko studies the hurt in your eyes at your outburst and pauses, her gaze flitting across your face for a moment. You exhale, willing yourself to calm down. Your heart rate has picked up a few paces and you despise how easily Kafka gets a rise out of you without even being in the room. The redhead leans on a nearby wall.

“You have every right to be as angry as you feel,” she starts, meeting your eyes with a knowing look in her golden ones, “but… You’re this angry because you have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“W-What?” Your stutter sells you out and Himeko tilts her head in a silent gesture to not lie to her.

“I had my doubts. You talked about her a lot, I don’t even think you noticed. And your word choice just now; ‘betray you’?” You wanted to trust her and hoped she'd let you in, but she manipulated you instead. It’s normal to be hurt, and while I have… opinions about that, you can’t help what you feel.”

You look away from the screen, lowering the camera in resignation. There’s no use in arguing Himeko’s point because you both know the truth already and you’re too out of it to fight the obvious. You don’t say anything so the line is silent for a while, Himeko resumes her walk towards her cabin and gives you a moment to gather your thoughts. You didn’t know you talked about Kafka this often but the information doesn’t surprise you, she made your days exciting and you genuinely liked her for more than sex. You used the latter as an excuse to justify the former countless times. From the beginning, you were attracted to more than her body, and from the beginning, you were more attached to her than she was to you. Even though these are facts that you’re aware of, your throat tightens at the reminder.

“I hate it,” you say quietly after a while, facing Himeko’s figure in the camera.

“I know, sweetheart. Nothing’s easy about what you’re going through right now, but it’s not the end of everything. I’m here to help you through it and you have your friends that are there for you too, just don’t isolate yourself while we figure out a path forward, okay?”

“What if she contacts me again?”

“Then you tell me immediately.”

“What, you’ll come to beat her up?”

Himeko laughs softly. “I don’t resort to violence without at least a conversation first, but….”

Her long pause brings a white toothed smile to your face and Himeko’s eyes crinkle at the corners at the sight.

After assuring you that she’ll text you in the evening, Himeko hangs up the call. You run a hand over your face, chest heavy. You’ll donate the necklace once you feel less like a wet rag that’s been wrung until no moisture is left. Someone will probably be happy to stumble upon a find like this one, and if Kafka’s ill intentioned gesture can bring happiness to one person then perhaps that cancels everything out.

The next afternoon, you find yourself in a clothing store that resembles the one you first met Kafka in months ago, browsing the racks for whatever catches your eye. Shopping for clothes relaxes you; feeling the different fabrics and textures under your fingertips, finding a piece that resonates with you, admiring the craftsmanship and creation process of the items on display are all things that take your mind off the mundanity of your life. You’re not that well-versed in fashion, not really, even if it interests you. You’re approached by one of the store’s consultants and it’s as you politely decline her help that you realize that this is something you could do. You could take classes about a subject that actually matters to you and work in that domain afterwards— maybe you’ll learn how to make your own clothes and sharpen your personal style. The idea makes you smile among elegant blouses. You can deal with your parents’ expectations of you if it means you won’t spend another day in an office researching mechanical components for projects you don’t care about.

You pass by your local thrift store to donate the necklace, but they won’t accept it. The employee’s eyes widens after one look and drags her manager to the front, who in turn adamantly refuses to take such a precious item from you. They wouldn’t know how to price it and its value is a few zeros too many to belong in a thrift store. You leave the place a little dejected, you don’t want to make any money out of it or it’ll feel like Kafka did you a favor in the end. You look at the box in your hands for a minute, then make up your mind. You’ll pawn it and give the money from it to the families who lost their loved ones during the incident last week. It won’t bring them back, it might not alleviate their families’ grief at all, but at least they’ll be set for years in the future and that’s something, right? That’s one thing Kafka would have (indirectly) done to make amends.

You decide to pawn the necklace after doing a bit more research about it to make sure you don’t get ripped off. You put it back in your bag for the time being and make your way back to your home, shopping bags around both of your wrists. By car, it takes less than half an hour to reach your apartment building. You carefully park in the designated spot and struggle to carry all of your bags to the elevator. Maybe splurging on clothes wasn’t the best financial decision when you plan to return to school and are currently unemployed. You repeat the phrase “I deserve it” like a mantra all the way to your floor. Standing in front of your door, you’ve almost completely deluded yourself that you do, indeed, deserve five new pairs of pants, nine pretty tops and two jackets you’ll wear at most three times in the next year. You’re not too sure about the pairs of shoes you bought afterwards…

You free one hand to turn the key into the hole and push the door open. Picking the shopping bags back up, you step into your apartment with a sigh, wondering how you’ll begin to start this new chapter of your life. The door hasn’t fully closed behind you that you freeze where you stand, assaulted by the various colors and fragrances of flowers resting on every surface of your home, some in bouquets twice as big as the other ones and all of them transforming your apartment into a disorganized greenhouse. Your mouth opens, bewildered. You can’t count the different kinds of flowers that are there, you only recognize a handful of them. You’re so shocked by the sight that you don’t notice the figure stepping out of your kitchen until she speaks and a sharp scream of surprise flies from your lips.

“Hey– It’s just me,” Kafka lifts her gloved hands in a gesture she means peaceful.

Stupefied, the bags in your hands fall to the ground with a soft thud. Your heart races wildy in your chest and you cover your mouth with a palm, eyes closing with the next shaky exhale that you let out. It takes you a minute to slow the drumming of your heart enough to utter words that aren’t strained.

“How did you get in here?”

“You didn’t change the locks. Seriously, it’s like you wanted me to show up again.” Her joke lands flat and her smile falters an inch at your glare. “Not in the mood for jokes, alright.”

She walks to the couch and picks up an item your eyes previously skimmed over. It’s an intricate hexagonal vase with a soft brown tint, clearly meticulously made. The glass looks very fragile judging by the way she carries it and outstretches her hands towards you, presenting it to you like a gift.

“For the flowers you want to keep,” she says.

You’re going to break it over her head.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #kafka x you #hsr x you

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evolutionsvoid · 2 months ago

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Anything can be an ecosystem, it is just a matter of nutrients and consistency. So often we think that habitats are things that only exist outside our walls, where civilization hasn't fully taken hold. Some folk think we sapient species live completely separate from the natural world, that our lands are omitted from everything else. To them, there is a clear line between what is "nature" and what is "civilization" and once you cross those boundaries, the other ceases to be. But in truth, it is all connected, and our homes are a part of the system like everything else. A city may seem vastly different from any other habitat on the planet, but it is still an ecosystem nonetheless. We are but the fauna running about within, and one of the species that thrives in it. And to the shock of some, there are other creatures that do incredibly well in these man-made habitats, finding living within them just as comfortable as we do.

Sewers and dumps don't seem like much but areas of pure filth, but there is still nutrients to be found. Just because we don't eat the stuff doesn't mean it is useless. Look at the dung beetle, an insect that lives off of fecal matter. While a sewer would be a vile land for us, it would be a paradise to such a coprophage. Things in the wild feed off of waste, it is a natural thing. So when we make areas that are nothing but filth, then some species flock to it, seeing an endless buffet. The Otyugh is one such creature.

When one first sees an Otyugh (probably in illustration over real life), it may be hard to wrap your head around what it actually is. The anatomy seems all over, with arms, legs and heads starting to blur together. Some would claim they are a three-legged species with two tendril arms and a large eye stalk, which is an understandable mistake. The Otyugh is hard to decipher as it moves and feeds, and its anatomy changes depending on the situation. In truth, it is actually a large echinoderm, one that possesses six limbs. Two of these arms are sensory, while the other four are designed for feeding, manipulation and moving. All six have sensory organs for smelling and tasting the world around them, but only two have prominent eyes. These organs are much stronger on these limbs, versus the crude eyes on the others that can only tell between light and dark. All arms work together to help the creature move and feed, though hunting for food isn't exactly a challenge for an Otyugh.

As I made clear, this species is one that feeds entirely on waste, finding poop and filth quite delicious. It isn't just feces, it is anything rotting, foul and discarded that they eat. Their central mouth is a complex arrangement of grinding plates, shredding teeth and potent acid, all designed to consume absolutely everything that gets shoveled in. They are the cleanup crew of the world, like all scavengers, and will erase any detritus or corpse that has been left behind. They are practically immune to poison and disease, devouring plague ridden carcasses without worry. They are essential creatures to areas rife with rot, which is why they have found their way to humanity's sewers.

Otyugh are a species that originally relied on dragons and other megafauna to survive. Their vast amounts of waste gave the Otyugh sustenance, and thus they were commonly found near dragon lairs. Small creatures don't offer enough for such large beasts, but that changed when some species started stockpiling their filth. When the Otyugh caught wind of humans creating places specifically for waste and trash, they were quick to move in. Here was another consistent source of food, in a place that seemed tailor made to them. At first, people were repulsed, but then they realized if they didn't want the Otyugh there, then they would have to go down there and drive them out themselves. Suddenly, no one was complaining anymore.

While most folk don't bother with these creatures, times do come where people do confront them. I know in some big fancy cities, they don't like the image of a giant poop eating seastar dwelling below, so they got the bright idea of getting rid of them. In other cases, their population gets out of control and they start looking for extra sustenance in face of all this competition. Whichever the reason, trying to drive one out or fight it will quickly make you regret your life choices. Otyugh may be sewage suckers, but they can be extremely dangerous. Their tendrils are dexterous and thorny, capable of whipping them with deadly force. Their limbs are many, allowing them to attack from many angles and continue the battle should they lose one or two. The maw in the center of it all is an "everything-grinder," which can reduce an armored warrior to juice if they get too close. On top of all that is the fact that they are dripping with filth and vileness, which can lead to nasty infections or sickness should one be exposed. Sometimes slayers will succeed in killing an Otyugh, only to succumb to a horrible rotting disease weeks later from a mere scratch they had received. In most cases, fighting them is straight up not worth it. It should only be a last resort, for when the Otyugh start spilling out from their sewer homes and begin eating "fresher" things.

To go back to that earlier mistaken description, of a beast with "three legs, two arms and one eye stalk," there is a reason that was a common belief. When Otyugh are feeding, they are laying down in the ocean of filth, positioned like any seastar you would see on the coast. Mouth down, arms out, just enjoying life. When buried in this waste, you can't really see them. Their bodies are colored and designed to fit in with piles of manure and disgust around them (as if anything would want to eat them), and thus folk miss them most of the time. However, when threatened, the Otyugh will rear up to look much larger and expose its pulverizing maw. This is done by using three tendrils for support, like legs. Two feeding limbs are flailed about in a threatening manner, while a sensory tentacle is held high for it to see its attacker. Now that it has made itself obvious and known, people start paying attention. This is why that description became commonplace, as these postures were how folk even got to see them most of the time!

A funny thing to note is that humans are probably way more familiar with the Otyugh than dryads. Honestly, it was a while before I even got to see one myself! This is because dryads collect and compost their waste at home, making sewer systems rare in our towns and cities. Due to large efforts to recycle and reuse, we don't have large areas of the stuff for an Otyugh to settle in. This isn't meant to be a dig at humanity, more just a neat observation. I will say that some dryads made a business of utilizing an Otyugh to rapidly breakdown substances and objects a normal household couldn't properly handle. It is like a rapid transformation of waste into fertilizer, for those who don't want to wait. Bring your junk to these places, let the Otyugh eat it and get its fertile expulsions in return. An odd business, but it seems to be working pretty well! Of course, there are also rumors that some of these establishments earn the real coin from folks who want certain "somethings" to "disappear..."

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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

"Otyugh"

While this entry is written by Chlora, it is one that I would say is not canon. Mainly because I know the DnD company is incredibly litigious and not fans of their stuff being used anywhere else. I mainly drew this thing up because I thought it would be fun and the entry was me exploring the "what if" scenario.

But hey! An Otyugh that is an echinoderm! Hmm. Like a big ol seastar! Hmmm! Perhaps like a starfish! HMMMMMM!

#otyugh #echinoderm #seastar #starfish #monster #creature #dndmonster #art #drawing

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Akatsuki Headcanons: Halloween with their Darling

Featuring the Akatsuki and how they would spend Halloween with a Darling that loves the spooky season!

Itachi

Itachi is rather introverted and doesn't like parties or loud events. He could, of course, put on a smile and interact with anyone if it was for your sake, but he will be looking forward to being alone with you once again. Plainly put, he has no interest in other people.

He finds your excitement cute and might suggest that you spend a quiet evening in the graveyard, feeding the ravens and discussing horror movies and literature. It's peaceful, comforting and fitting. Oh, he just loves hearing your voice.

Truly, what could be more romantic than debating ghoulish matters among the dead and decayed? For Itachi it is a statement in itself, that your love prevails over everything. Perhaps even foreshadowing, if anyone ever dares to interfere.

Kisame

Kisame will be happy to comply with any proposal as long as you're by his side. That's really the only requirement for his successful Halloween. If you prefer larger events, he will dutifully keep suitors away and allow you to mingle with your friends. Otherwise a cozy evening indoors will suffice.

Now listen, when it comes to horror movies I’m sure the first thought is usually Jaws. But I had this picture in my head: watching Silent Hill with Kisame and getting him to dress up as Pyramid Head. If there’s a costume party happening, he’ll be right behind you in that bloodied up apron and great knife dragging along.

In fact, you could even go for a matching costume, such as Bubble Head Nurse. Kisame takes his role very seriously, so naturally once you’re alone he might just do what Pyramid Head does. You can tell he’s been looking forward to it once his imposing gloved hand is around your throat, grip tightening in anticipation.

Sasori

Sasori will be against any social event, so you better not pester him with any of those annoying Halloween parties. He does not care for it and he finds it an utter waste of time that could be spent with you instead. Why do you need the company of others?

If you must celebrate in some way, he’d much rather compromise on some quiet, cultural activity. Perhaps some museum exhibition, or a candlelight organ concert in a church. Even better, a horror movie at home so he doesn’t have to worry about perverts eyeing you.

I like to think he’d enjoy Tim Burton movies. They’re artsy and tasteful and a lot of the recurring themes might pique his interest. You’ll finish watching Edward Scissorhands and notice he’s been thoughtfully gazing at you for some time. Is anything wrong? Not really. He’d just been pondering that you won’t be allowed to grow old. He’ll make sure of it.

Deidara

Deidara is a thrill seeker and will absolutely share your enthusiasm for Halloween. Costume parties, haunted houses, amusement parks, you name it. He loves a good scare and might even compile an elaborate list of activities to make sure you have the best time. Truth be told, seeing you enjoying yourself might be the actual highlight.

He won’t mind, however, if you’d prefer a less intense evening. There’s plenty of things to do away from the crowd, such as pumpkin carving. He’ll do his best to impress you with his artistic skills, presenting highly elaborate carvings, often depicting your favorite things. He lives to entertain you.

If he thinks about it, this is a perfect opportunity to prove to you that really no one else compares. His love for you is unmatched. And as he likes to say, the holiday isn’t complete until it ends with a bang ;) (Had to make the joke)

Kakuzu

Ugh. Kakuzu just dreads the upcoming holidays. It’s all puerile, commercial quackery and he does his best to ignore the nonsense. Or he used to, at the very least. As much as it irritates him, your disappointed expression might be even more unbearable. He does have a soft spot for you, after all.

So fine, go ahead. Do your silly little Halloween shenanigans. As long as he doesn’t have to deal with other people. It’s really just the best for everyone involved. You wouldn’t want some poor soul complimenting your outfit to immediately meet their demise at the hands of your intimidating boyfriend. His patience might be thin, but when it comes to you it’s basically nonexistent.

Ideally it’ll be just you and him. Graveyards, horror movies, haunted houses, pumpkin patches, whatever your little heard desires. If he’s in a good mood, he might even be willing to don a matching costume.

Hidan

Given Hidan’s beliefs, he’s not very impressed by some pagan invention, although he does enjoy the activities that come with it. It’s his guilty pleasure. Especially because he gets to see you all dressed up.

That might just be the main reason, really. You. He loves seeing your excitement and would do anything to entertain it. He enjoys social events where he can show you off, but doing things alone as a couple is also perfectly fine. Okay, if he’s entirely honest, he would very much like to parade you around as his.

All the gore and the terror really gets him into the mood. By the end of the day he’ll be a starved man, and you can be sure that once he gets his hands on you it will be a bloody, scratching, biting mess. He’s probably the type to suggest you do it in a graveyard for the thrills.

Pein

Pein pretends not to care, but he is very much aware your favorite holiday is approaching. He’ll prepare weeks in advance to make sure he won’t have any paperwork or surprise missions. The day will be entirely dedicated to you.

He will either quietly follow you around to whatever plans you’ve made, like a loyal dog, or will conjure his own activities in case you didn’t expect too much productivity to be possible. Oh, the things he’ll do for your sake. Anything for a glimpse of that genuine smile.

You’re quite amused by the fact that Pein retains his serious expression no matter what jumpscares come your way. Impressed, you can’t help but ask him: “Is there even anything that frightens you?” And he won’t have to contemplate an answer for long. Naturally the thought of losing you. All the other artificial horrors pale in comparison. But you needn’t worry, he will never, ever allow it to happen.

Konan

Konan is only mildly excited about Halloween, but she will never say no to spending time with you. Additionally, it comes with the opportunity of doing arts and crafts as a way to relax. Forget buying decorations, she’ll be crafting the most exquisite garlands and ornaments you’ve ever laid eyes on.

She prefers to keep to herself. If you desire to attend a social gathering, she won’t downright refuse, but she’ll maintain her distance from the crowd and count the hours until you’re alone and together.

I feel like she would treat it as a spooky Valentine’s Day. She’ll show up with an elaborate gothic bouquet of flowers and a card quoting your favorite horror book or movie. “I have crossed oceans of time to find you”, as she lovingly once read in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. You’re her very own undying romance.

Tobi

You might think you’re excited for Halloween, but it quickly fades when compared to Tobi’s enthusiasm. Before you can even mention it to him, he will present you with a full itinerary of things to do together. He has been counting the days, constantly daydreaming of having all the fun in the world with you.

Similarly childish is his possessiveness. You find his little bouts of jealousy when you’re among other people terribly cute, as he pouts and tries to drag you away, reminding you dramatically that he’s your Halloween date. Only him.

Although you’re taken aback by his abrupt change of tone, when at some point during the night the silly threats turn into a deep, jarring voice demanding your undivided attention. Surprised? It’s a holiday of frights, after all. Perhaps he’ll show you how scary he can be if he wants to.

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dogwithrabies · 8 months ago

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【★】 gn reader but described as afab, kinda mean scara, reader is a masochist lol

【☆】 ignoring the fact that i disappeared for like 8 months, hi, new thingy (reup)

word count: 4.3k

There’s no coming back from those offices. Everyone knows that, it’s like an open secret between the ranks of the fatui.

One gets called in for a “little chat” and then just disappears, there are no deserters allowed in an organization like this. Too many secrets.

The lower ranking soldiers always gossip about whoever the next one is gonna be, it keeps everyone on edge, just one measly mistake in front of a general, or worse, a harbinger and it’s over. It doesn’t help that other privates will often turn on eachother, reporting their comrade’s mistakes to get on their supervisor’s good side, in a sense, the fatui has eyes everywhere.

Your days of walking on eggshells are long over, thank the Tstaritsa, but it doesn’t mean you’re completely safe either. Being a general yourself, you’ve been faced with many hard decisions, sometimes covering up the mistakes of a soldier, sending back touched up reports hoping no supervisor will notice any discrepancy.

“Your empathy will come back to bite you in the ass”.

It’s a sentence the Balladeer threw your way once, it wasn't advice out of the goodness of his (non-existent) heart. Matter of fact, he didn’t even spare you a glance before walking past you, on his way to scold another soldier. How stupid, he must've thought, sharing your already scarce meal with a tiny bird that sought refuge under the shadow of your feet.

But you just can’t help it. In your early days you could only pray someone spared you the same kindness you give out now.

But that was a long time ago. You went on many other expeditions in the Balladeer’s team, somehow always managing not to fess up and prove yourself worthy of your role. It was a noteworthy achievement, after all his bad temper was notorious to anyone who spent even a few minutes in his presence.

The Balladeer does not go out of his way to compliment anyone, flattery is not his style. Just the absence of any reprimand is more than enough to tell you you’re doing good.

However, that does not stop you from wasting time fantasizing about such scenarios.

“You’re doing good.” What a dream it would be to hear that. “You’re being good.”

But the image you have of him in your mind is a far-fetched, rose-tinted version of the one in front of you now. You’re not as stupid as to warp his essence into anything even remotely kind. You know of his temperament, sometimes you’d even go as far as to think he’s not even human.

During an expedition, he slapped a soldier once. It was late in the evening and some soldiers decided to let out some steam with a few drinks. It just so happened that one of them got a little too… feisty.

But the Balladeer did not let go of his face. He just kind of stared at the red mark his hand left, squishing the fat of his cheeks in some weird torturous ritual, moving the skin around to admire the shape of the coagulated blood under his skin. He was so close he could feel the shaky breaths of the poor guy fanning on his face.

He relented only once he was satisfied. He enjoys the fear in people’s faces. No, fear is just an expression, it’s the pure terror that spreads in someone’s whole body that excites him.

He can tell the exact moment when someone switches from being scared to dreading losing their life.

It’s something you’ve seen several times yourself, never hesitate, to end someone’s life. Hesitation makes you waver, staring at someone’s eyes makes you acknowledge that they’re scared, they’re human.

He never wavers. Hm. He’s either incredibly cruel… or just above your kind? You take a mental note of that.

The first thought excites you, that tiny familiar buzzing feeling running down your spine.

It’s so unfair.

No, that’s not right, you quickly shake that thought off. Who would ever dream of being at the receiving end of the Balladeer’s ire?

It’s not the first time you find yourself spiraling that same line of thought. But he’s just so pretty.

You suppose that in order to make it out alive of his squadron one needs to grow tough skin, tolerating his humiliation tactics and aggressions. You just never thought you’d develop a liking to that.

How the mighty have fallen. You used to be so respectable.

You can’t even begin to picture his disgusted expression if he found out that deep down, a part of you hoped he would lay his hand on you.

Or if he knew how many sleepless nights you spent rubbing your thighs together, trying to get rid of a heat that just wouldn’t go away.

Or, additionally, if he knew that the first thing you did in your new private (perks of being promoted) room was to disregard your clothes and immediately push your fingers in your aching needy cunt. Thinking of him.

How absolutely shameful. You wonder if your stay in the fatui awakened something in you. Or maybe you were always like this.

But you’re always so composed. And your fatui mask covers any blushing on your face;

No one would be able to detect your attraction to him based on your behavior.

After all, it was very common to hear creaking sounds at night. That’s just what happens when you force young adults in a shared room together. People just turn the other way. Ignore the sound and go to sleep.

You feel yourself getting warmer at the sight of him walking towards your squadron.

It’s another of those annoying training sessions, you don’t have to participate, just surveil the cadets. It doesn’t fall within your assignments, it’s your Lord Balladeer’s job, but he so kindly sacked you his responsibilities. After all, he’s above watching insignificant men stumble in knee high snow.

But you’re just so distracted.

He’s sitting on a chair with a tiny table in front of him, quickly skimming through huge piles of paper. The huge fur of his coat shields his face from your view (a shame, he looks so cute when concentrating), but he’s not covering anything else. His tiny shorts slightly hike up his legs as he shifts to put one leg over the other, revealing even more skin.

Just how is he not getting cold?

You huff, your breath crystalizing in front of you, forming a tiny mist as if proving your point.

It’s freezing. And he’s out there with his usual attire. Not that you’re complaining, you always had a thing for his legs. Always looking at the way they crease and shift on his thighs every time he crouches to look at something. You always watch him with such an intense gaze.

It’s not weird. It is your job to ensure his safety after all.

Not that he needs it. You’ve seen him in combat, not many enemies survive after the first shock of electro.

It’s scary. It’s exciting.

He also uses it to correct small mistakes. He’s shocked you once after you almost tripped while serving him tea.

It was tiny and barely audible but your finger spasmed in an uncomfortable position, and then it was over.

He let out a humorous hum at your shocked expression, then quickly dismissed you.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about that small encounter.

Thinking about all the other ways he could use his shocks on you. Maybe they could simulate the effects of a vibrator (just a slightly painful one). You’re not allowed to bring anything with you when you join the fatui. And using your hands or humping your pillow always leaves you yearning for more.

So lost in thought. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Not anger, not disappointment, something more akin to… disbelief.

He knew you would cover up your underling’s mistakes sometimes, he couldn’t be bothered to call you out on that. But to let so many incompetent cadets trip on the same wall, face-planting on the snow and mud without even taking note of that? Right in front of him?

Were you hoping he was too busy with his papers to not notice that, or are not even paying attention?

Your tendency to sometimes space out is something he was very aware of. But you never actively slacked off on your tasks. This is new, not unexpected but new. You were bound to disappoint him, after all, it is in your nature as a human. He needs to stop this before it becomes a habit and gets in the way of his work.

He quickly calls some other general to take your place. You barely register when he calls your name. His voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up in shivers.

“Come.” He firmly says before walking off the training grounds.

You hesitate for a second, your eyes focusing back on the view in front of you. Your lord wants a word with you? Just how deep in thought were you to not even notice him staring holes in your back? It can’t be any good.

You follow after him, catching up with him and watching the back of his coat sway with each step.

The inside of the palace is just as cold as the outside. The only relief a fatuus gets is the mercy of being shielded from the icy winds. It’s only when you set foot inside his office that you finally let yourself breathe.

The whole walk to his private office is full of agonizing spiraling thoughts. Surely this isn’t one of those “little chats”, right? The soldiers guarding the door don’t even spare the two of you a glance, their masks covering your expression, but you’re sure they pity you in some way.

The Balladeer is not known for his kindness, but even through his hate filled vision of humanity, he knows the intrinsic need of every being for validation. Not that he’s going to give them any, he has no interest in building any amicable relations in this organization, lest it serves him to reach his goals the future. But it would also be very troublesome to replace even more of his subordinates. Were he in an altered mood he would’ve just electrocuted on the spot.

Recognizing when one of his useless soldiers actually has a shred of potential is not something he’s very keen on doing, but the alternative is to put up with more incompetent fools, and that’s not on his agenda.

He sits on his chair, moving papers around on his desk. You watch him as he smacks his lips and lets out a silent huff as he finally rearranges the papers to his liking.

You’re shacking, he attributes it to the cold. Humans have always been so much weaker and more vulnerable than him. His skin is cold, glacially cold, but it’s not a feeling he registers.

Even his coat is just for show.

Your cheeks are red, but it’s (at least partially) not from the cold. Now that his coat is off you get a full view of his face. His dashing red liner perfectly contours his eyes, giving them a sharp intense look. He begins talking to you, his voice is calm and smooth, at least he’s not mad at you.

It’s about your zoning off.

It’s not something you do on purpose, but it’s just so hard to focus when you're so damn horny.

Frankly, you’re more surprised he didn’t just slap you on the spot, not that you would’ve minded. Maybe your Lord is showing you his mercy? The thought of him showing you any form of kindness makes heat slowly creep up your face. The cold slowly leaves your body as warmth replaces it, the overwhelming feeling leaving you to fiddle with the hem of your clothing.

“My deepest apologies, it will never happen again, my Lord”.

This is to be expected, addressing him with the right honorifics and apologizing is the correct (and preferred) outcome. He blinks slowly, at least he saved himself a migraine.

What he doesn’t expect is to not see you when he opens his eyes. He didn’t dismiss you. He gets up from his chair but stops when he finally spots you, on your knees with your forehead touching the ground.

“I want to make it up to you, my Lord”, you say, still not moving from your position.

This. This he likes. Usually, he’s the one forcing his subordinates to kneel in front of him, and not in a kind way either. Pressing their face on whatever unfortunate surface they were standing on, purposefully applying more pressure than needed, hoping his boots would leave a heavy mark on their face. Sometimes they would do it out of their own volition, but it doesn’t stem from an urgent need to show him their worship, it was out of fear.

“Hm.” He makes his way to the couch on the side of his desk and sits crosslegged. “Come here,”

But he interrupts you before you can push yourself on your feet- “No, stay like that.

It takes you a second to process that he wants you to crawl your way to him. You awkwardly move your body, trying not to trip on your own coat before settling in front of him.

He puts his hand on your cheeks, lightly squishing them before raising his fingers and taking your mask off, leaving your expression bare before him. It’s no different than any other fatuus mask, but he slowly examines it regardless.

“Go on, show me your devotion, (Name),” he says, shifting so his knees are on each side

Just the fact that he knows your name makes you shudder. You’re not sure of what exactly he wants from you, but you’re already in a bizarre enough situation, so you decide to follow your instincts.

You slowly wrap your hand around his boot, raising it until you can comfortably lower your face, letting your lips come in contact with it. His eyes widen for a moment, as you continue rubbing your face on the side of his boot. Their surface is clean, that bit of snow remaining gets smothered on your skin, melting away.

“Hah”, moving to other boot, you repeat the same motion “At least you know where you belong.”

His voice has a layer of malice to it, like he’s elated by this outcome. Your hand comes in contact with his skin, it’s so cold, like touching freshly piled snow. Opting to rub his legs in a meek attempt at warming them up, you press your lips to his knee, savoring the moment.

Any other person would feel humiliated in this situation, worshipping at your Lord’s feet, but this, it’s like a dream come true to you. Being so close to the object of your attraction makes your head go spinning. It feels unreal just being able to lay your hands on them. You shouldn't press your luck. but it’s so tempting to just reach over and grope him all over.

He would probably kill you.

Maybe.

Perhaps if you’re slow and methodical about it you can manage to get a tiny bit closer to his thighs. Masking your need as devotion.

You place your lips just above his knee, your hands moving under it, rubbing at the soft skin. He’s also curious about how far you’re willing to push yourself. He’s no fool, he knows you’re scared of crossing a line you’re not even aware of. He could be kind and point you in the right direction, but watching you struggle to restrain yourself while mindlessly mouthing at his skin is a show too good to pass on.

Eventually, he widens his legs, just enough to allow you to sit deeper in between them. This new position allows you to reach further. It stuns you for a moment, hesitantly putting your hands on his thighs, looking at his face for any sign of vexation. When you don’t find any, you deem it safe to push further, lowering your face to latch your mouth on the exposed skin. Leaving a slightly wet trail everywhere you go.

He’s let you get this far, and if the way he moves his legs giving you even more access is any indicator of his enjoyment, it encourages you to try your luck.

Your hand slips under his shorts, slowly pushing them up. You lock eyes, and for a second you fear you’ve overstayed your welcome, luckily that’s not the case.

“No markings.” His hand now rests on your head, slowly moving your hair out of your face.

Would it even be possible to leave marks? His skin shows no imperfections and it’s so smooth it makes you want to lose yourself in it. But it also feels… tougher? While rubbing it with your hands, it felt robust, like if you sunk your teeth in it it wouldn’t break even the upper layer. Maybe just leave a mark. A sign you were there.

But now is not the time to get lost in your imagination. Not when the real deal is in front of you, inviting you to have your fill.

You pinch lightly at the flesh of his inner thighs, you’re so close to his crotch, if it wasn’t for that piece of armor around his waist, the side of your face would be squished in it.

“Enough teasing,” He says, and almost as if he was reading your mind, he rids himself of the armor and other superfluous frills attached to it. “Get to work.”

Now that nothing is blocking your view, you can see the bulge that formed under all those clothing.

The sight makes you drool, as you immediately reach a hand to slightly squeeze it. Your eagerness amuses him, but he’s grown impatient. His grip on your hair is much tighter now, dragging your face until it’s directly flush with his clothed erection.

“You better not waste my time” His tone is harsh and firm, and it just makes the heat between your legs worse. When his grip relents, you push yourself away just enough to pull down his shorts. He shifts his hips up, aiding you in sliding them off.

Now that his erection is free, it bounces slightly as your breath fans over it. The tip is a cute shade of pink, beads of precum leaking from it. But he doesn’t give you the time to admire it any longer, grabbing himself from the hilt to slap it on your face a few times. The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only audible thing in the room. It makes your head spin. To think you’d have the privilege of being the one he unleashes his sexual frustrations on.

He pulls your head up, tapping his dick on your lips. You open your mouth, letting him rest his tip on it, and your lips wrap around him, tasting him.

Were it any other situation, you’d take your time in savoring this moment, slowly sliding your tongue around his girth, letting his desire grow. But this is different, like if your performance doesn’t satisfy him he might just kill you on the spot.

And the thought shouldn’t turn you on, for a second the thought of biting him just to piss him off crosses your mind. What a way to go that would be.

Alas, not wanting to keep him waiting, you make an effort to take as much of him as you can, until your nose is flush with his pelvis.

He lets out a satisfied sigh and that slight expression of annoyance leaves his face, your mouth is warm and wet, and the movement of you swallowing around sends shivers down his spine.

“That’s it,” his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. “That’s good.”

The mere hint of him praising you makes you shudder, you’re so soaked your underwear is sticking to your cunt. You want to thank him, but speaking with him in your mouth proves to be difficult, it comes out as an unintelligible hum, whether he understood you or not he seems to appreciate the vibration of your throat.

He pulls your head back, urging you to start moving, seemingly done with just enjoying your throat. You drag yourself back until his tip is once again resting on your tongue, and then push it all back in, as far as you can go. You manage to work up a steady rhythm, one that leaves small moans escape from his mouth. They’re breathy, but every time you manage to wring one out of him is like a win to you. Each little noise of his spurs you on further. One of your hands reaches up to grab the rest of him, moving up and down in synch with your mouth, while the other reaches down and inside your uniform pants, rubbing at your clit.

“F-fuck… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Your eyes trail up to look at his, his flushed face looking back at you.

“Me using your mouth turns you on.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and to put more emphasis on it he shifts his legs until one of them is resting between your own.

“You’re doing a good job… I guess I should reward you.”

He shoves his boot up, as if kicking your hand away. He wants you to…. oh.

Complacently, you shift lower until your full weight is resting on him, the absence of your fingers replaced by him. It takes you a moment to adjust to this new position, but once you get back on your rhythm you resume your ministrations on him, while slowly grinding on his leg.

His other hand reaches your head, threading your hair before settling a firm grip next to the other, you’re given a moment of reprise before he shoves his hips forward, roughly, holding you in place.

His thrusts are fast and merciless, each one reaching deeper inside your throat. You close your eyes, trying not to gag when he reaches a bit too deep, not that you have the ability to complain, all you can do is try your best to accommodate him as he uses you to get off. Your hips start moving a bit faster too, the thought of you being a mere means to an end in his eyes is turning you on more than you’d like. And he notices.

His cock throbs in your mouth and he lets out a breathy laugh, “So pathetic. Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”

You open your eyes for a moment to look at him. He’s grinning at you, looking at you as if you were something truly beneath him, pushing his hips in rougher as if to accentuate that. The sounds of saliva and cum smacking around your lips are so obscenely loud, you’d have half a mind to almost be embarrassed by it, but there’s a knot tightening in your stomach, and it grows tighter and tighter with every thrust of your hips. It doesn’t help that with every thrust his leg moves slightly up against you, coaxing you into an orgasm.

Your hands clamp on his thighs, hard, the shuddering of your hips slowing down as you unwind on him. You let out withered moans, barely audible but still sending pleasurable vibrations up his length.

You’re straight up drooling around him at this point, saliva sliding down your chin and on his balls. He’s sounding a bit breathier above you, and you can feel him twitching with more vigor inside your throat. Your body limp on his makes it easier to thrust deeper.

He pushes in as far as your throat allows him and stills there. You’re prepared to feel him coming down your throat, but he pushes your head back suddenly, so far back his dick slides off your mouth with a wet pop.

He’s stroking himself above you for a moment until there’s a brief pause, interrupted by a breathless curse as he finishes on the top of your lips, riddling your face with his come.

He sags back down on the couch, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm with you still in between his legs. His chest heaves up and down, catching his breath, but his moment of peace is short lived as he speaks up.

“I guess you did prove yourself,” he says as he slowly tucks himself back in his pants. You squint up at him. You don’t move from your position, still sitting even as he removes his leg from underneath you, breathing slowly and deeply now that his dick occupying your airways.

When you come to your senses you start searching around with your gaze for a tissue or even some rag to clean yourself up, you’re truly in an unpresentable state. Your hair is messily pulled out of its ties, strands flying everywhere and some glued to your face. Your face… Awkwardly, you wipe your lips, trying to at least dry up the saliva but there’s nothing you can do to hide the very evident cum sticking on… everything else. You can’t just walk out in this state- you do have a reputation to uphold. And rumors travel fast- by the end of the day every cadet would know of the shameful state you left the Balladeer’s office in, and it wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together-

“Oh. This belongs to you.” He says holding your mask, seemingly noticing your inner monologue. “You’ll be needing it out there.” He adds as he puts it back on your face, squishing that bit of cum on your cheeks.

“You can go now. I’ll call you again when I need your… assistance.”

#dog writes #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

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