#when you think about everything there is no way to choose WHAT to talk about lol

[daretoassume]

how to not experience the life you desire

i personally believe that you already have your desires but it's just that you haven't experienced them yet because of your current beliefs about your yourself and your current reality. but understand that you are the one who's delaying them with this kind of mindset.

holding onto limiting beliefs and remaining fixed in a mindset that doesn't serve you will only create resistance. this resistance distances you from the countless possibilities already within reach, blocking you from embodying the version of yourself that fully aligns with what you want.

there are so many ways, so many techniques, so many methods to manifest this and that but now let's talk about the opposite. these are the ways to create resistance and not experience everything you desire.

have poor self-concept

do constant research but don't apply them

let your current reality tell you what to feel

stay overly attached to the specifics of how things should unfold

dwell on when will it happen

let it disrupt your day by thinking and worrying about it every time

believe that you don't deserve your desires

believe every negative thought that your mind is telling you

complain every day about everything and everyone

hate everything about yourself and others

don't follow your highest excitement. follow what society wants for you

remain in a negative state your whole life

focus solely on what you lack instead of what you have

believe that your desires can only come in 1 way or ways you can only imagine

compare yourself constantly to others

rely on others to validate your worth

feel resentful of others who are achieving their desires

resist releasing old beliefs that no longer serve you

believe that manifesting is just a “fluke” or a game of luck

choose to look at the world from a scarcity mindset

reject the idea that your thoughts create your reality

believe others can manifest but doubt your own power

think that your desires are too big or impossible or that you don't deserve them

refuse to act as though your desires are inevitable

these are just some deep-seated beliefs you may hold about yourself and the world, which create a barrier, resistance, and delay to actually experiencing your desires. these feelings often stem from your past experiences, colored by lack, negative beliefs, and a distorted perception of what is possible for you.

as you reflect on this list, it is important to recognize that these are not just random habits; they are patterns. now that you are aware of these negative habits, take time to examine their origins. do shadow work. ask yourself why you have developed these beliefs and behaviors so you can then discipline yourself.

you are not healing to manifest. manifesting is automatic. you are also not healing because you are broken. you are never broken. you are healing to let yourself realize the power that you hold, and that every belief, every thought, every state is creating your life. the point of power is here and now.

[eu-nicola]

her memory

summary: After Grace's death, you offer to take care of Charlie, Thomas, who lives tormented by his pain, accepts. As both spend more time together, both begin to develop something but neither you or him don't know how to accept it.

warnings: mention of death, nothing more i think

word counter: 7682

author's note: english is not my first language

The cold wind cut through the morning with a cruel indifference, as if the world kept turning without stopping for anyone's mourning. The tombstones stood as silent reminders of lives past, names etched in stone, stories that had ended. Among them all, one stood out: Grace Shelby. The letters were carved with precision, the name reflecting both love and tragedy.

You, Grace's younger sister, held a bouquet of white lilies with numb fingers. You had chosen those flowers because they were Grace's favorite, although now the detail seemed ironic. You couldn't remember the last time you had brought her flowers when she was alive. Maybe you had never done so. Guilt nibbled at the edges of your conscience as you walked down the gravel path.

In the distance, a familiar figure emerged from the mist: Thomas. He was dressed in strict black, his face impassive as always. His eyes, though, those blue eyes that always seemed to be calculating, now reflected something deeper. Pain. Or maybe just tiredness.

You hadn’t spoken to Thomas since Grace’s funeral, and before that, your interactions had been tense, at best. You’d made it clear from the start that you didn’t trust him. “He’s not a good man for you, Grace,” you’d warned him more than once, but Grace always found a way to justify it. “You don’t know him like I do,” she’d reply with a smile that was now just a painful memory.

Thomas stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by the grave. There were no words of greeting or gestures of courtesy. Neither did they need them. You were both there for the same reason.

You carefully placed the flowers on the grave and knelt down, closing your eyes for a moment. The silence between you and Thomas was thick, heavy with everything that had never been said and everything that would never be said. Finally, you stood up, feeling Thomas’ gaze on you.

“She always talked about you,” Thomas said, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t used it in days.

You looked at him, surprised by the comment. There was an honesty in his tone that was disarming, something rare about him.

“And what did she say?” you asked, not because you really wanted to know, but because you needed to fill the void.

Thomas lit a cigarette, letting the smoke mix with the cold air. His eyes never left the tombstone.

“She said you were strong. Stronger than you believed yourself. That you had always been her rock, even when you didn’t know it.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “And that you were the only one who could tell her the truth, even if it hurt.”

You felt a lump in your throat. Grace had always been the mediator between you and the world, softening your harshest words, interpreting your silences. Now that she was gone, you felt disoriented, like you’d lost your compass.

“I always thought I was protecting her,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the grave. “But maybe I was just trying to protect myself. I didn’t want to see her suffer for someone who couldn’t give her what she deserved.”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice held a tone you’d never heard before: vulnerability.

“Grace gave me more than I deserved. And I gave her back less than I needed.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the dirt and looked up at you. “But I loved her. In my own way, I loved her.”

His words fell heavily in the air. For a moment, you wanted to respond as harshly as ever, to point out that his love hadn’t been enough, that his world of violence and power had dragged her to the grave. But something stopped you. Maybe it was the pain you saw reflected in his face. Or maybe you were just tired of fighting.

“Grace loved you too,” you said at last, almost in a whisper. “I never doubted that.”

Silence settled between you again. Thomas nodded slightly, as if that statement were enough. You both knew that the relationship between you and him would never be cordial, but at that moment, you shared something that transcended your differences: the loss of the woman who had been the center of your lives.

Finally, Thomas took a step back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” he said, not looking directly at you. Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and began walking toward the exit of the cemetery.

You watched his figure walk away until it disappeared into the fog. The fog slowly dissipated as you walked away, leaving the tombstone and the memories behind.

After that encounter, you knew that you didn’t want to part with what little was left of Grace. The decision didn’t come immediately, but rather as a persistent murmur in the back of your mind. The image of Grace, always smiling with her baby in her arms, was etched ever deeper into your memory. Charlie was the only part of her left in this world, a small piece of light in the midst of all the darkness her death had left. And you wanted, no, needed, to be a part of her life.

Days later, you found yourself in front of the door of the Shelby house. You hesitated for a moment, looking at the imposing facade. You hadn’t set foot in that place since Grace’s funeral. You sighed deeply and knocked on the door. It was Polly who opened it, her sharp gaze examining you immediately.

“What are you doing here?” she asked bluntly, her tone neither hostile nor friendly, just expectant.

“I need to talk to Thomas,” you said, straightening up.

Polly arched an eyebrow, but didn’t ask any more questions. She waved you in and led you to the living room, where Thomas sat behind his desk, papers strewn in front of him, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

He looked up as you entered, his expression unfazed.

“Another telling off, then?” she asked sarcastically, though there was a hint of curiosity in her tone.

You shook your head, gently shaking your head as you sat across from him.

“I’m not here to fight, Thomas. I’m here for Charlie.”

He set the glass down on the table, his gaze fixed on you.

“What about Charlie?”

You took a moment before answering, your hands clenched in your lap.

“I want to help. I want to be in his life. I know this may sound strange, but I would like to be his nanny.” You hesitated for a second, but continued before he could interrupt. “I want to be close to him, to help raise him. I don’t want him to grow up without having a connection to his maternal family.”

Thomas watched you silently for a few moments. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed that he was processing each word carefully.

“Why now?” he asked finally. “You don’t trust me, you never have. Why would you want to get more involved?”

You leaned forward a little, trying to convey the sincerity of your intentions.

“Grace loved Charlie more than anything. And if I can’t have her, I at least want to make sure her son grows up surrounded by love, by family. This isn’t about you, Thomas. This is about him.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And because Grace would want us to be there for him.” Both of you.

Thomas leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands to his face for a moment before running them through his hair. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, you can start tomorrow. Polly will show you Charlie’s routines. But I warn you,” he said, his voice lower and more serious, “this world is dangerous. I don’t want you to go near it if you ever think you can’t handle it.”

You agreed with a slight nod, knowing there was no turning back.

The next morning, Polly greeted you with a mix of surprise and silent approval. She wasn’t a woman of many words, but she seemed to appreciate your willingness.

“Charlie is a calm boy, but he needs stability,” she said as she led you to the little boy’s room. “His mother was his refuge, and now it’s up to you to fill some of that void.”

When you entered Charlie’s room, your heart tightened. The boy, who couldn’t have been more than two years old, was sitting in his crib, playing with a teddy bear. His eyes were the spitting image of Grace: big, curious, and bright. Seeing you, he tilted his head in curiosity.

You slowly approached, smiling.

“Hey, little one,” you said quietly, feeling excitement fill your chest.

Charlie watched you for a moment before extending his arms to you, an immediate sign of trust that nearly brought tears to your eyes. You picked him up carefully, feeling his warmth against you. He rested his small head on your shoulder, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

The rest of the day passed in unexpected calm. You fed him, played with him, and took him for a walk in the garden. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice that Charlie seemed more relaxed with you than you had anticipated. It was as if, somehow, he knew you were a part of his mother, a connection he still needed.

The passage of time hadn’t eased the void left by Grace, but caring for Charlie filled your days with a kind of purpose you’d never felt before. The little boy had a laugh that lit up even the gloomiest of rooms, and his small hands reached for yours with a trust that melted you. With each day you spent with him, you felt like you were helping keep a part of Grace alive.

Charlie followed you everywhere, whether it was in the garden, where he clung to your wobbly fingers as he tried to walk, or in the kitchen, where he babbled incomprehensible words as you prepared his food. What touched you most was the way he clung to you at night, his small hands tangled in your shirt as you rocked him to sleep.

You were aware that every smile you elicited from him was a silent defiance of the pain his mother’s death had left behind. Though you tried hard to stay strong, there were times when Grace’s absence was too much. On those nights, when Charlie finally fell asleep, you stayed by his side a little longer, whispering stories about his mother to him, wishing that, somehow, he could remember her.

One of those nights, after putting Charlie to bed, you went down to the kitchen in search of something warm to drink. The house was silent, save for the occasional creak of wood beneath your feet. The air was cold, and the light from the fireplace in the living room barely illuminated the hallway.

That was when you saw him. Thomas was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table beside him. His eyes, normally sharp and watchful, were darkened by a deep sadness. His face, always controlled, now seemed vulnerable, almost unfamiliar.

For a moment, you hesitated. You had seen Thomas in many facets: calculating, furious, even protective. But never like this, broken.

“Thomas, are you okay?” you asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

He looked up slowly, his blue eyes piercing through you, filled with a pain that seemed to have no end. He didn’t answer right away, instead taking another long sip from the bottle before setting it down on the table with a thud.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he finally said, his voice hoarse.

You approached cautiously, sitting down on the armchair in front of him. The distance between you both seemed so short and, at the same time, infinite.

“I was thinking about Grace,” you murmured, trying to connect.

Thomas gave a bitter smile, but his eyes didn’t light up.

“There’s not a single moment when I don’t see her. Every corner of this damn house reminds me of her.”

The silence that followed was thick. You felt like any words you could say would be insufficient, but you couldn't just leave him in that state.

“Grace would never want to see you like this, Thomas,” you said softly. “She always saw the best in you, even when you didn’t.”

He let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“Grace was always better than I deserved. I brought her into this world, into danger, and it killed her.” His words came out laden with guilt. “Everything I touch breaks.”

You leaned forward, meeting his eyes.

“Grace chose to be with you. She knew who you were and what your world meant, but she still loved you. You can’t carry all the blame, Thomas.”

For the first time, Thomas seemed to truly hear you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you both shared a pain only you could understand. He let out a heavy sigh, as if he’d been carrying too great a weight for years.

“Charlie gives me a reason to keep going,” he admitted quietly. “But I can’t help but think of everything he lost. What I took from him.”

The pain in his voice tore at you. Without thinking, you stood up and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone in this, Thomas. Charlie has a lot of people who love him. And so do you.” You paused, measuring your words. “I’m here.”

Thomas lifted his head, surprised by the openness in your voice.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his whisper barely audible.

You stayed by his side as the night wore on, both of you silent, but this time it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of stillness that comes from sharing a common pain.

The days in the Shelby house followed a steady, almost predictable rhythm. The mornings were Charlie's: from the first light of day, the little boy filled the house with his laughter and babbling, and you were there for each of those moments. But the nights... the nights were different.

Since that first time you found Thomas broken in front of the fireplace, something had changed between the two of you. They didn't always talk, but the presence of each other was enough. So, every night after putting Charlie to bed, your steps inevitably led you to the living room, where Thomas waited for you, his silhouette illuminated by the flames of the fire.

The first few nights were a timid exchange of words. Thomas offered you a glass of whiskey, which you accepted although you barely touched it, and the two of you sat in silence, watching the flames dance. Every now and then, he shared fragments of memories about Grace, little anecdotes that made you smile or sometimes let out a stifled laugh.

“Grace always made fun of my smoking,” he commented one night, with a slight smile. “She said I looked like a cheap actor trying to look sophisticated.”

You laughed softly, imagining your sister with her sharp wit and love of little jokes.

“That sounds like Grace,” you said, your voice heavy with nostalgia.

Over time, conversations became more fluid, less restrained. You shared memories of your childhood with Grace, little secrets that only the two of you knew. Thomas listened intently, his eyes softening with each story, as if through your words he could feel his wife’s presence again.

“You know?” you said, staring into the fire. “I always thought you were Grace’s worst mistake.”

Thomas, who had been staring at his glass of whiskey, looked up slowly, one eyebrow arched.

“And now?” he asked, his tone neutral, but his eyes heavy with curiosity.

You sighed, playing with the rim of your glass.

“Now… I’m not so sure.” You looked at him, your words softer than you’d planned. “Grace was happy with you. And that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you closely.

“I’m not a good man,” he finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I never have been. But with Grace… she made me want to be better.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words.

“We all have our shadows, Thomas. But I’ve seen how you are with Charlie, how you talk about Grace. Maybe you’re not as bad as I always thought.”

He let out a dry laugh, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes, something that seemed like a mix of relief and gratitude.

“That’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve heard from you,” he said, his tone mocking, though his smile was genuine.

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, smiling back.

With each passing night, the relationship between the two of you transformed. The conversations became deeper, more sincere. Thomas showed you a side that few knew about: the man behind the boss, the husband, the father struggling to find balance in a world full of chaos.

One night, after a long silence, Thomas confessed something that surprised you.

“I didn’t think you could forgive me,” he said, his words laden with a weight he seemed to have been carrying for a long time. “Not after everything.”

You stared at him, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s not easy to forgive, Thomas. But I also know that life is too short to hold on to hate.”

For a moment, you thought you were going to see tears in his eyes, but Thomas just nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked away.

Even if everything was fine between you and Thomas, there was always something off. The next day, the sun was shining softly that afternoon, and a light breeze rustled the leaves, making everything seem almost calm, almost normal.

Charlie was swinging happily in a baby swing that Thomas had had installed months ago. You stood nearby, watching him with a smile as you gently pushed the swing, making sure it wasn’t too high.

Charlie giggled, and when the swing stopped, he raised his arms to you, asking to be pulled out. You picked him up easily, holding him against your hip as he wrapped his arms around your neck. He looked at you with those big, bright eyes that reminded you so much of Grace, and something in your chest tightened.

“I love you, little one,” you murmured, gently kissing his forehead.

The little boy stared at you for a moment, then rested his little head on your shoulder and, in a barely audible voice, whispered,

“Mommy.”

The world seemed to stop. The air became thick, and for an instant, you couldn’t move or breathe. Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of that word fell upon you. You didn’t know what to say. Charlie didn’t fully understand what he had just said, but to you, the meaning was overwhelming.

Before you could react, a deep, sharp voice broke the silence.

“What did you say?”

You turned around suddenly and saw Thomas standing a few feet away. His face was tense, his eyes dark and filled with a mix of surprise and suppressed fury. He had returned earlier than expected and had clearly heard his son’s words.

—Thomas… —you started to say, trying to calm him down.

—Why is he calling you "Mom"? —he interrupted, his voice low but full of intensity.

Charlie, oblivious to the tension, clung to you with an innocent smile, his small hands playing with your hair. The image must have been a shock to Thomas, a painful reminder of what he’d lost.

“He’s just a kid, Thomas,” you said calmly, setting Charlie down so he could play again. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. I would never try to take Grace’s place.”

Thomas took a step forward, his posture rigid.

“But you are,” he said, his voice raspy. “You’re looking out for him, you’re comforting him, and now he thinks you—” He paused, as if the words were too painful to say out loud.

“I’m here because I wanted Charlie to have someone to look out for him, to love him. I’m not trying to replace Grace, Thomas. I never could,” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

“Oh, yeah?” he snapped, his tone bitter. “And what do you think is going to happen if you keep this up?” He’ll see you as his mother.

His words were like blades, and you felt a lump in your throat, but you weren’t going to back down.

“That’s not fair!” you exclaimed, raising your voice. “I’ve done everything you asked of me, Thomas. I’ve been here, taking care of Charlie, helping you keep this home standing. And now you’re blaming me for something I can’t even control?”

Thomas clenched his fists, his eyes burning with frustration.

“You don’t understand. This isn’t your place. You’re not his mother. You never will be.”

The words were like a blow, but you refused to let them affect you any more than necessary.

“You’re right, Thomas,” you said, your voice cold. “I’m not his mother. But at least I’m here for him. And you? Where are you when he needs you? Or do you prefer to hide behind your whiskey and your business, letting others deal with the pain?”

Thomas took a step closer, his face now just inches from yours.

“Be careful what you say.”

“Why?” you replied, challenging him with your gaze. “Because you don’t like hearing the truth?”

The silence that followed was sharp, both of you breathing heavily, the tension between you almost tangible. Finally, Thomas took a step back, his face hardening.

“If you can’t understand your place here, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

Those words were a final blow. You nodded slowly, your expression cold but hurt.

“Understood.”

Without saying anything else, you turned and walked into the house, leaving Thomas alone in the garden. You felt a mix of rage and sadness as you climbed the stairs to your room. Everything you had done, all the effort, seemed to have been in vain. You leaned against the closed door, trying to control the tears that threatened to spill out.

The days that followed that tense confrontation with Thomas were tinged with an awkward silence in the house. The air seemed heavier, as if the very walls held back unspoken words and hurt feelings. But the most noticeable change was in Charlie.

The little boy, who used to be an endless source of laughter and energy, now seemed to be caught in a cloud of restlessness. His demeanor changed dramatically; laughter had been replaced by sobs, and his usual enthusiasm for play had given way to an irritable, brooding attitude. Every little inconvenience, from a toy that didn't work the way he wanted it to the lack of his favorite snack, made him burst into tears.

It hurt to see him like this, but the worst thing was that you knew why. Charlie missed the closest thing he'd had to a mother in the last few months. And even though you'd tried to keep your distance after the argument with Thomas, you couldn't help but worry about the boy.

That afternoon, Charlie was sitting on the living room floor, tightly hugging a teddy bear that Grace had given him. Tears ran down his cheeks as he murmured between sobs:

"Mom..."

You knelt beside him, feeling a lump in your throat.

"I know, honey," you said softly, stroking his hair. "I know you miss her."

Charlie turned to you, his little eyes full of desperation.

"Mom," he said.

It was like a dagger straight to the heart. Your instinct was to hug him, but you stopped, remembering Thomas' words.

“Oh, little Charlie,” you said finally, your voice breaking.

The little boy didn’t understand, and you knew it. To him, absence was a void that was impossible to fill. His sobs increased, and in the end, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You lifted him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cried against your chest.

“I’m here now,” you murmured, trying to calm him down. “I’m not leaving, okay?”

At that moment, the door opened, and Thomas entered the room. His gaze hardened as he took in the scene before him: you holding Charlie, trying to comfort him like a mother would.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice cold.

Charlie turned to his father, his little face still wet with tears.

“Dad… Mom.”

Thomas tensed his jaw, his gaze darkening even further. He took a step toward you, his eyes fixed on you.

The boy clung to you, but was eventually led to his room by a maid. Once he was out of the room, Thomas turned to you.

“What part of ‘you can’t be his mother’ didn’t you understand?” he said, his voice low but filled with contained anger.

You stood up, crossing your arms.

“Thomas, don’t you see what’s happening? Charlie is hurting. He misses his mother, and for now, I’m the closest thing he has. Why can’t you just accept it?”

Thomas laughed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“Accept it? You want me to accept my son starting to call you mom while Grace is in her grave? Is that what you want?”

“No, what I want is for you to stop being so selfish,” you replied, raising your voice. “This isn’t about you, Thomas. It’s about Charles. He needs someone, and you can’t be everything to him.”

Thomas took a step closer, his presence imposing.

“You don’t decide what my son needs. I’m his father.”

“And I’m the only person who’s been here for him while you drown in your own pain,” you said, not backing down. “But it’s okay, Thomas. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave. But when Charlie keeps crying at night, when he asks you why I left him, you’ll be the one responsible.”

Thomas didn’t answer right away. His gaze was hard, but there was something else going on, too: an internal struggle, a battle between his pride and the reality that was hitting him harder and harder.

Finally, he took a step back, breaking eye contact.

“Do what you want,” he murmured, before exiting the room and leaving you alone.

The next few days were marked by an awkward silence between you and Thomas. Even though he had made it clear that he didn’t want you anywhere near Charlie, you couldn’t just walk away. Not when the little boy needed you more than ever. So, defying Thomas’ orders, you continued to look after the boy. After all, someone had to do it.

That night, the Shelby house was unusually quiet. Charlie had had a long day and was restless, his small body still shaking from time to time from residual sobs. You held him in your arms, gently rocking him as you walked around the room, whispering soothing words to him. Eventually, his eyes began to close, and his breathing became more rhythmic.

The house was empty. Thomas had gone out, as he often did lately, immersing himself in his business and affairs. Everything seemed calm, but there was an uneasiness in the air that you couldn’t shake.

Suddenly, a noise downstairs broke the silence. At first you thought maybe Thomas had returned, but a quick glance at the clock made you dismiss that idea. You clutched Charlie to your chest, your senses heightening. Another noise, this time clearer: the creaking of a door carefully opening.

Your heart began to pound, but you kept your cool. You couldn’t allow yourself to lose control. Slowly, you made your way to the bedroom door, making sure Charlie was safe in your arms.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs grew clearer and clearer. Then, a figure appeared in the doorway, a tall, burly man with a cold, cruel gaze. He held a gun, his face partially hidden by a handkerchief.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the man said, his voice deep and full of mockery. “I didn’t expect to find a babysitter.”

You said nothing, your mind working quickly. The man pointed the gun at you, a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t there to talk.

“Where’s Shelby?” he asked, taking a step forward. “I know she’s not far away. But in the meantime…” his eyes fell on Charlie, who began to fidget in your arms, sensing danger. “Maybe we can send her a message, huh?”

“You don’t have to do this,” you said in a firm, yet calm voice. “Thomas will be back soon, and when he does, you won’t want to be here.”

The man laughed, a harsh, cruel sound.

“And what are you going to do?” he snapped. “Another empty threat? I’m here to settle a score, and if it means hurting the one you care about most…” He motioned to Charlie with a shake of his head.

Charlie began to cry, his small fists clinging to your shirt. Your instinct was to protect him, positioning him so that his body was out of reach of the gun. Despite the fear you felt, you kept your voice calm.

“You’re not going to touch him. If it’s Thomas you want, then he’s him you’ll face. But not a child.”

The man paused, considering your words, but his expression showed no sign of mercy.

“The world is not so kind, young lady.”

Before he could move, another noise echoed through the house. This time, the unmistakable thud of a door slamming shut. The man turned quickly, raising the gun, but before he could react, Thomas appeared in the doorway.

His gaze was deadly. In a quick, calculated move, he pulled out his pistol and fired without hesitation. The sound was deafening in the small room, and the man fell to the floor with a thud, the gun slipping from his hand.

Thomas moved forward slowly, his eyes fixed on the intruder’s body to make sure he posed no further threat. When he was sure, he turned his attention back to you and Charlie.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

Charlie was still crying, his tears soaking your shirt. You nodded, though your heart was still pounding.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” you murmured, trying to calm Charlie as you cradled him against you.

Thomas moved closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Take him downstairs,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.”

You nodded again, walking out of the room with Charlie still in your arms. His sobs began to subside as you descended the stairs, the warmth of your embrace providing him with a modicum of comfort.

When you reached the living room, you sat down on the couch, holding Charlie close. Shortly after, Thomas came down, his steps slower, his expression hardened. He sat down in front of you, his gaze assessing you.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone with him,” he finally said, his voice heavy with a mix of guilt and concern.

“Thomas… it’s not your fault,” you replied, though you knew it wasn’t enough to ease his burden.

For the first time in days, his eyes showed something other than fury. There was fear there, fear of what could have happened if he had arrived a minute later.

As you rocked gently, Charlie’s little face buried in your chest, while you ran your fingers through his hair, murmuring soothing words.

Thomas sat across from you, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, staring at the floor as if he was trapped in thought. The dim light from the lamp cast deep shadows on his face, highlighting the hardness of his features. But his eyes… his eyes showed something different that night: vulnerability.

“I shouldn’t have taken you away from Charlie,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence with a low tone, almost a whisper. He wasn’t looking at you, but his voice was heavy with remorse. “It was a mistake.”

You look up, surprised by his words. You had expected many things from Thomas Shelby, but not an apology.

“Thomas…” you began, but he held up a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished yet.

“Ever since Grace died, I’ve tried to protect him, protect us both. But in doing so, all I’ve done is fail him. I can’t give him what he needs.” He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. “But you can.”

The words hit you with a mix of relief and pain. You knew how much it had cost him to admit that, how much it meant to him to acknowledge that he couldn’t do everything alone.

“Charlie needs you, more than I wanted to admit. I’ve seen you with him, how he calms down in your arms, how he trusts you.” Thomas ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “And I was an idiot to try to push you away from him.”

You looked down at Charlie, who was breathing easier now, his fingers gently clinging to your shirt. A feeling of warmth and relief settled in your chest. You had been willing to do anything for that little boy, even if it meant facing Thomas Shelby.

“Thank you for saying it, Thomas,” you finally said, your voice soft but firm. “But I need you to trust me, to understand that I would never do anything to hurt him.”

Thomas nodded slowly, his eyes still locked with yours. There was a weight in his gaze, but also a sort of unspoken truce.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m grateful. More than I can express.”

He leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he watched Charlie with a mix of tenderness and pain.

“I never wanted him to grow up without a mother. And I know you’ll never be able to replace Grace, but what you do for him… that’s the closest thing to a home I can offer him now.”

The lump in your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your composure.

“I’ll do everything I can for him, Thomas. Always.”

For the first time in what seemed like weeks, Thomas smiled, albeit a weak, tired smile.

“I know,” he said simply.

Silence fell between you again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. It was a silence of understanding, of acceptance. Charlie had fallen asleep, his little rhythmic sighs filling the room.

Thomas stood up, walking towards you with slow steps. He leaned down slightly, placing a hand on Charlie’s head and stroking his hair gently. Then, his eyes met yours again.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but loaded with meaning.

You simply nodded, no need for words.

The next few days were quieter in the house. Thomas allowed you to care for Charlie without interference, and even began to participate more in the moments you shared with the little one. There was a routine that was beginning to feel, if not normal, at least less tense.

You and Thomas also began to talk more. At first, it was practical conversations, about Charlie or about how to reinforce the security of the house. But little by little, those dialogues transformed into something more personal. Moments when, for a brief moment, Thomas Shelby wasn’t the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, but simply a man trying to navigate loss.

One night, after you’d put Charlie to bed, you found Thomas in the living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The soft light from the table lamp illuminated the room, creating a warm, almost intimate atmosphere. He was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, his gaze lost in the flames.

“Everything okay?” you asked, carefully entering the room.

Thomas looked up, his expression relaxing at the sight of you.

“Yeah,” he replied, though his tone said otherwise. “Just… thinking.”

You walked over and sat on the couch across from him. You didn’t want to push him, but there was something in his gaze that night that worried you.

“About Grace?” you asked softly.

He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the table beside him.

“Always Grace,” he murmured. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. What could have been if…” He paused, his jaw tightening.

You didn’t say anything, allowing him space to speak if he needed to. You knew that, as hard as it was for him, these moments of vulnerability were important.

“Sometimes I think I’m losing her,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper. “Her face, her voice… it’s all fading away, and that scares me more than anything.”

Your heart clenched at his confession. Thomas, the man who always seemed so strong, was pouring his soul out in front of you. Without thinking too hard, you stood up and walked over, standing next to him.

“You won’t lose her, Thomas,” you said softly. “She’ll always be a part of you, of Charlie. Nothing will change that.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes shining in the firelight. There was something in his gaze, a mix of pain, gratitude, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Without thinking, he raised a hand and gently brushed it against your cheek.

The gesture took you by surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning slightly into him, until his lips met yours in a soft kiss, laden with repressed emotion. It was a brief moment, but it was intense, as if both of you were allowing yourselves to feel something you’d been denying for far too long.

But as soon as it was over, Thomas pulled away, his expression changing from vulnerability to guilt in an instant.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice hard and laden with regret. He stood up quickly, moving away from you as if the contact had burned. “I can’t… I can’t do this to Grace.”

The pain in his voice was palpable, but it didn’t hurt any less that his words were hurting you, too. You stayed on the couch, trying to process what had just happened.

“Thomas…” you tried to speak, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“No. I can’t,” he repeated, his tone harsher. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have…”

You stood up, the lump in your throat getting tighter with each word he said.

“A mistake?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was enough to confirm it. You felt your eyes begin to fill with tears, but you refused to let them fall in front of him.

“I understand,” you finally said, your voice firmer than you expected. “Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned and walked out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, until you reached your room. You closed the door behind you, letting the tears finally fall.

The days following the kiss and the rejection were unbearably tense. You and Thomas had gone back to barely speaking beyond what was necessary. Conversations were limited to the basics: directions for Charlie, changes around the house, or simple mechanical greetings. Any vestige of the connection you had begun to build seemed to have faded, leaving an awkward chasm between you.

It hurt, more than you wanted to admit. You had accepted that Thomas still carried Grace in his heart, but you hadn’t expected the kiss you shared, brief but full of meaning, to become a wall between you.

Finally, one night, after you had put Charlie to sleep, you found yourself unable to bear the coldness any longer. You knew you couldn’t continue living in the same house, taking care of Charlie, and pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.

You found him in the living room, as always, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He barely looked up when you entered, but you didn’t say anything right away. You closed the door behind you and stood there, watching him.

“How long are we going to keep this up, Thomas?” you finally asked, breaking the silence with a voice filled with frustration.

Thomas didn’t even flinch. He took a sip of his whiskey before answering, his tone indifferent.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step forward.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. This. Us. Pretending like nothing happened, when we both know it did.”

Thomas finally looked up, his blue eyes cold and calculating.

“There is no ‘us,’” he said harshly. “There can’t be.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, but you didn’t back down.

“And that’s it?” you replied, your voice rising slightly. “Are you going to keep hiding behind Grace’s memory, using your guilt as an excuse to keep everyone at a distance?”

Thomas’ expression hardened, and he set his glass down with a thud.

“Be careful what you say,” he warned, his voice low but dangerous.

But you were too furious to stop yourself. The pressure of the past few days, the built-up tension, it all came crashing down.

“Careful?” you repeated, taking a step closer. “I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you, Thomas. What’s wrong with you? Why do you insist on pushing everyone away?”

Thomas stood up suddenly, his imposing presence filling the room.

“Because that’s what I do,” he snapped. Because the people I care about always end up hurt or dead.

“And that’s an excuse to treat me like that?” You took a step closer, your eyes flashing with fury. “I’m not Grace! You can’t keep punishing me for something I can’t change.”

The tension in the room was palpable, each word a sharp dart. Before you could think, you grabbed an empty glass from the table and threw it hard. The glass crashed into the wall behind him, shattering into pieces.

Thomas reacted immediately, crossing the distance between you in a matter of seconds. Before you could move, he roughly grabbed you by the arms, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes burned with an intensity that took your breath away.

“Enough!” he growled, his voice hoarse and heavy with repressed emotion.

You were about to retort, to fight against his hold, when suddenly, without warning, his lips crashed against yours. It was a desperate, hungry kiss, as if both of them were trying to drown all the pain, frustration, and guilt in that moment.

You resisted for a moment, surprised by the abruptness, but quickly gave in, kissing him back with equal intensity. His hands, which had previously held you tightly, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer.

The world around you disappeared. There was no more arguing, no more awkward silences. Just the warmth of his lips, the frantic beat of your heart, and the feeling of being, for the first time in days, completely alive.

His lips left yours for an instant, moving down to your neck, as his hands eagerly explored. Everything about him was urgency, need held back for too long. There were no words between you, just the ragged sound of breaths and the steady throb of a dormant desire that had finally exploded.

“Tommy…” you murmured in whispers, your fingers getting lost in his dark hair as he lifted you slightly, leaning you against the nearby wall.

He responded with a growl, capturing your lips again, as if afraid that moving away for a second might break the connection. It was a forbidden moment, but you were both too far away to stop.

The room seemed to fill with heat as every barrier crumbled. Thomas was all fire, and you consumed yourself with it without remorse.

Finally, when the intensity subsided, you both lay still, breathing hard, still entwined. His eyes searched you, and for an instant, you saw something more than desire. It was a vulnerability he rarely showed, an acknowledgement that he needed you more than he was willing to admit.

He didn’t apologize this time. There was no room for words; the silence between you spoke for itself. And in that moment, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

[pzychojinx]

so, jinx in act one of season two. see, for three years i expected a full on descent into chaos and madness beyond any repair. i'd made peace with that, too. so i'm surprised - pleasantly, joyfully surprised.

very long analysis ahead on where they're taking her and how it speaks to me.

we first meet her again during silco's eulogy sequence - a beautiful sequence, halfway between dreamlike and real. "just like when vander shoved off", she says about his death. except it's not. after vander's death, after vi's perceived abandonment, everything jinx could feel was self-centered. she would say "she's not my sister anymore". she would devalue these people entirely. in fact, every single reaction to any action done by her loved ones would be self-centered and extreme. that is very much how her mental process works, how her trauma caused her to work. and more so: when silco would ask of her any work, any mission, she'd do the job purely for his sake, his affection, his approval, never caring about the cause.

in short, she was never able to get out of her own head for as much as a single minute. now, she starts the funeral off with "chembarons warring for control of the lanes. wannabe street thugs squabbling over scraps. just like when vander shoved off." and it's not about her abandonment anymore. it's not about being left alone. it's not about her. she's talking to silco about his city, his legacy, his world, his chembarons, his lanes. she's out of her own head, and it's the first time we ever see it.

"because someone put all those holes in you", she says then. and this is so interesting because there's obviously a dissociation here, as well as a very intense grief and sadness. we are obviously still dealing with someone who's deeply traumatized and unstable, but let's compare this with powder after the deaths of vander, mylo and claggor. powder had a full breakdown, both turned into a complete de-evaluation of vi as i was mentioning earlier and full desperation. "i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help".

this chaotic desperation is something jinx kept within herself throughout the entirety of s1 up until - the tea party. which i'm getting at, in a minute. point being, for now, that the jinx we see during silco's eulogy is grieving and lost and rootless and asking herself "what am i supposed to do with that?", but she lacks the chaotic full-on desperation that would lead her to acts of explosive destruction and/or self-destruction in s1. in fact, she's incredibly quieter. she's more grounded, more present in her movements, in the way she fights, in the way she talks.

in retrospect even her final action in s1, the infamous missile, already had the energy we're seeing now. it wasn't instinctive, driven by hallucinations or trauma or rage or an unrestrained trigger; it was silco's legacy and it was calculated. silco's death, i think now, left jinx as rootless as she's ever been, but it also left her with an acceptance of who she is. "don't cry, you're perfect". the tea party ends with her 'choosing' jinx and if you'd asked me before season two, i would have said with full certainty it meant she'd be going to be a loose cannon. entirely and with no possibility of ever being anything else. that's not what i think now.

i think she came to terms with who she is. i think now that the seat at the tea party wasn't a symbol of complete derailing, it was in a way a symbol of acceptance. "here's to the new us". she's fought her fight between powder and jinx and the tea party has permitted her to gain, in some way, a sense of closure. very importantly, having lost what she perceived as vi's acceptance, and having lost a father, she has also been able to shed the constant and desperate need to be in their favor.

during the 'sucker' sequence, we see her going through the lanes with a hood on her hair, very low-key. loose cannon jinx would have never, ever done that. loose cannon jinx would, quite simply, not have cared. she would have been extra, and explosive, and in everyone's faces. she's preserving herself not to be found, and that's new. again, i think she's still lost and rootless and grieving and really asking herself what she's supposed to do now that she's entirely autonomous and i also think there's definitely still a lot of bitterness and rage when it comes to vi which we obviously get to see during their fight and in no way is she magically ~healthy or anything like that - however.

she is still walking those streets in a way that indicates self-preservation. it would have been very, very easy for jinx to be captured by any of those goons and/or got herself killed. and for some reason, whether that be an apathetic, mourning state or mind, or whether that be some gained peace in who she is, or both - she didn't.

given all this, the new element that season two act one has introduced for her that truly moved me and made me feel... healed in a sort of way, is the introduction of human bonds for jinx that defy her historical, co-dependent mechanism of idolization and de-evaluation. ergo, sevika and isha. this is incredible for her and most of all, it's realistic. it's a chance at something, but it doesn't feel forced, nor fairytale-esque, nor does it resemble your usual ~redemption arc.

sevika and isha function as people who she's building some bond with, and since she's a little bit less in her own fucking head, and since she's not clinging to them as idealized protectors / saviours and neither is she refusing them as betrayers, and since she's not constantly fighting between what she perceives as her double identity anymore, she finally has the possibility to experience healthier bonds. sevika functions as somebody who still ties her to silco, possibly the closest thing she has right now to any root she might have left, and it works: reminiscing silco with her, gifting her the arm, doesn't leave her utterly alone but neither does it let her fall into the trap of clinging onto yet another figure from whom to fully depend.

and isha, very obviously, functions as the possibility of healing her inner child which is a goldmine for her storyline. her bond with isha could clearly have a narrative tie to jinx & silco, to jinx & vi, and most importantly to jinx and powder herself - this is all quite obvious but again, it's not executed in a way that feels like a forced 'redemption arc' or whatnot. the idea of this little street kid who just imprints on her like a lost little duckling, which is in no way jinx's decision, simply feels natural and heartwarming. does this mean i presume such healing of her inner child is going to come easy to her? no. but it's something. it's something very different from anything she's ever experienced before.

even through the loss, the rootlessness, the grief and confusion, the panic attack we see her experiencing through the lanes as a consequence of the moment she sees vi and caitlyn's enforcer squad, even through the brutality of the fight with vi, - and this is all to say, she's still a very traumatized individual, which is important because it would have just been senseless to have jinx somehow get fully stable like a switch had been flipped - we're seeing something new for jinx here. i've seen many posts related to "i'm glad it's you", and i might be unpopular here but while i do think jinx still has an element of suicidality, i also think she was at least half bluffing there. comparing her micro-expressions with the ones back on the bridge fight with ekko, i'm under the impression she was testing vi, at the very least partially. "poisoning us with gas?" is also an interesting line because even in her attack at her sister, she's less focused on her own trauma and more on something that we've hardly seen from her before - belonging to the lanes.

all of this to say, i'm loving the path they're taking for her. it's still very much jinx. it feels like jinx. but she's not just about to wreak senseless and desperate havoc in order to be seen by either her sister or her father, because there's no one to be seen by anymore. she's not fighting a desperate battle between her identities either, because she's accepted her place. she's not loud and erratic, she's quieter and coming to terms with herself. closure is truly the word that comes to mind, for me, in how i see her arc right now. closure, and unexpectedly, possibility.

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober 2024 - Day 22 - Dirty Talk

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Here is the Kinktober episode for the « Dirty Talk » prompt. Thank you so much to the anon who suggested it to me in the Asks ✨. I hope you enjoy it !

CW : Dirty Talk - Flirting

In the studio's dimmed lights, Marshall paced the floor, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. He’d been trying to work with you for months, bending schedules, pulling favors, convincing his team, convincing you. It was almost unheard of for an artist of his stature to try this hard to work with an emerging artist such as you. As it was for such a new talent to be so wary and hesitant to work with such a big name in the industry. When you first got an email telling you that Eminem wanted to collaborate with you, you thought it was a prank and did not even bother replying. But then, you got a call from Paul Rosenberg, assuring you it was real. Anyone would have jumped at the opportunity but you had your reservations : sure, being on a track with Eminem would be huge, there was no denying that. But still, the promise of exposure was not enough to convince you. You didn’t want to be just another pretty voice he’d use on a track. You wanted control, artistic freedom. And as someone who was trying to build a brand based on being audacious and unapologetic, you weren’t sure that he was the right fit. After all, it wasn’t 1999 anymore and, if Eminem was a household name, you really would have wanted to collaborate with Slim Shady.

When you kindly replied that you had your reservations about the collaboration request, you expected things to end there. But they didn’t. Marshall Mathers himself got on the phone with you to try and convince you. And, seconds after you said you would think about it, you received a few files, beats he produced in your Inbox. He offered for you to choose the one you wanted to work on, assuring you that he had made them with you on his mind. You actually loved every one of them and there was only so much artistic courting that you could resist, so you ended up agreeing. And as soon as his team received word that you were on board, they booked your flight and hotel reservation. And judging by the private plane sent your way, as well as the penthouse suite in the fanciest hotel in Detroit, you could tell they were putting efforts into making the whole thing happen.

In truth, Marshall had been obsessed with your music for a while. He had randomly discovered one of your tracks and he had ended up binge-listening to everything you had ever put out. Why you weren’t a superstar yet, he was not sure. What he did know, however, is that he needed to be on a track with you. Soon enough, a big, household name would collaborate with you and he would have lost his chance. Every time he heard your voice, gritty and lush with this edge he couldn’t quite define, he felt himself get pulled deeper into an obsession he couldn’t shake. You were fresh, unlike anything he’d heard—raw, provocative, and willing to cut to the bone. And now, finally, you were coming to his studio to work with him.

The door swung open, and in walked the woman who’d been running laps in his mind for the better part of the year : you. She was as striking as her voice, with a smirk that hinted at trouble, and eyes that seemed to take in everything all at once. One that said you knew exactly what you were worth, and that you were not impressed by his notoriety. One look at you and he could tell you weren’t one of those new artists who got all shy once they were face to face with him, often trying too hard to mold themselves to his expectations. And, of course, he liked it. That was exactly what he was looking for. Being one of the greatest was, in many ways, a blessing, but it was also a curse, especially when one was looking to constantly renew themselves, push the pen and their artistic boundaries.

There was an instant click, a mutual electricity hanging in the air. Marshall didn’t miss the way your gaze lingered on him, a mix of curiosity and challenge. “Didn’t think you’d actually pull it off,” you said, eyebrows raised as you looked around the high-end studio. Your voice, lower than he’d expected, hit him like a sucker punch, all slow confidence and swagger. “Didn’t give myself a choice,” he shot back, holding your gaze. “When I want something, well, in that case, someone, I get it.” You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into that signature smirk. “I guess that makes two of us. Let’s get to work, yeah?”

You settled in, talking about the track, about the way he wanted to play with tension, throw caution to the wind, using some of your work as inspiration and reference. You were on the same wavelength from the start—both looking to take risks, create something that would linger in people’s minds, make the audience feel something intense.

The track he had in mind was something dark and seductive, a pulsing bass line underlying a beat that was slow but biting. He laid down his first verse, his voice smooth and confident, every word dripping with an intentional intensity. He could feel you watching him from the booth, the way your eyes followed every line he delivered. He didn’t hold back, letting his lyrics flirt with the edge of decency, taking up space in a way that dared you to match it. Of course, you were intent on proving that you were up to the challenge. When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and let it all pour out, your voice a rich, smoky counterpoint to his. Your verse didn’t just match his energy—it went toe to toe, pushing him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. You turned his words back on him, responding with lines that danced between taunt and temptation. Your lyrics seemed to pull at him, inviting and provocative, every line like a hand wrapped around his collar, drawing him in. As you recorded, Marshall’s mind raced. This wasn’t just a track. It was something else—something that was as personal as it was artistic. The tension wasn’t just in the music. It was in the room, filling the space between you, every glance and every word laced with double meanings.

When you wrapped up, they both took a breath, looking at each other across the soundboard. The track was like nothing he’d done before—raw, sensual, a collision of their styles in a way that felt both inevitable and dangerous. “Damn,” you murmured, still catching her breath. “Didn’t think you had that in you.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I guess you bring it out of me.”

The two of you sat in silence, the unspoken hanging there, both of you fully aware that you had created something unforgettable—not just in the music, but in the connection you had formed, a synergy that was addictive, electrifying, and undeniable. The hypothesis was verified as soon as his team heard it and you saw their eyes open wide with a mix of shock and excitement. They exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves as they processed what they’d just heard. One of his longtime producers. “Man…that was…” He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to find the right words. “It’s insane. I’ve never heard anything like it from you before.” Paul, his manager, practically vibrating with excitement, chimed in. “That track—it’s got this… it’s hot, but it’s intense, like… it’s like you two were…” He hesitated, not daring to finish the sentence. You let out a low laugh and raised an eyebrow when you caught the unspoken word.

Marshall smirked, feeling that same rush he’d felt in the booth, that electricity that seemed to carry through every single line you’d spit back and forth. “It’s a vibe,” he said, his voice casual, but the gleam in his eyes told everyone that he knew exactly what you had both created. “We went all out on this one.” Paul turned to him, a sudden fire in his eyes. “You can’t let this just be an audio track, man. People have to see this. They need to see that tension. It needs a music video—one that’s as raw as the track itself.” His personal assistant, Tracy, nodded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Exactly. I mean, the lyrics alone…there’s a story there. It’s like a back-and-forth, the chemistry, the intensity. You’re going to leave people craving more if they don’t get the full visual experience.”

You glanced over at him, eyes sparkling. “They’re right, you know. The track isn’t just something you hear—it’s something you feel.” For a moment, he let himself imagine it. A dimly lit set, shadows casting just the right angles, both of your voices echoing through a dark, intimate setting. Your verses bouncing off each other, your eyes locked, the tension between you building in every frame. He could see it perfectly—a music video that wasn’t just a performance but an experience, where every look, every gesture, was a continuation of the fire that had been poured into the track. “All right,” he finally said, feeling a grin stretch across his face. “Let’s make it happen.”

His team erupted in cheers, already throwing around ideas for directors, cinematographers, and set designs. But through it all, you and Marshall stayed locked in, that same spark between you burning as bright as ever. You leaned in, your voice low, almost teasing. “Guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer, then.” He gave a slow, satisfied nod, knowing exactly what you’d just set in motion. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Weeks later, the music video finally dropped, it was like striking a match in a gasoline-soaked room—the internet exploded. Within hours, the video was trending worldwide, fans and critics alike flooding social media with reactions that ranged from awe to outright disbelief. It was intense, raw, and more than a little suggestive. The chemistry that had been palpable on the track was cranked up to maximum on screen, leaving viewers questioning just how much was acting and how much was real.

The video opened in a dimly lit, shadowed room, smoky and moody, with neon lighting casting dramatic hues across the scene. You and Marshall faced each other in the middle of the room, your silhouettes close but never quite touching. The way you exchanged verses was more than just a performance—it felt like a conversation laced with danger, anticipation, and something unmistakably intimate. Each line you spit felt like a challenge, each look lingering just a little too long. One of the most talked-about scenes showed you standing nose-to-nose, voices dropping to a murmur as you exchanged lyrics that sounded more like secret fantasies than lines in a song. His hand brushed down you arm, your gaze locked on his with an intensity that made it impossible for viewers to look away. Every second of the video was like a slow burn, inching closer to the edge without ever quite going over it. But the tension between the two of you was undeniable, and that fine line between performance and reality left people buzzing.

Immediately after the video ended, social media exploded with speculation. Fans were dissecting every moment, rewatching certain frames on repeat, turning them into gifs in the process, trying to find evidence that what they’d witnessed wasn’t just acting. A tweet from a prominent rap reactor read: “That video was more than a collab. Did they actually…?” Another comment racked up thousands of likes: “I swear they DID it on camera. You can’t fake chemistry like that.” Even celebrities chimed in. One famous pop artist tweeted, “Is it just me or did they actually record their dirty talk in te studio? 🔥🔥🔥,” while others posted cryptic reactions that only fueled the frenzy. Fans shared memes about “needing a cigarette after that video” or “wanting what they have.” A rumor began circulating that someone from the crew had leaked hints of “off-camera moments” that were even more intense, stoking the intrigue and mystery surrounding the pair.

When asked about it in interviews, Marshall gave his trademark smirk and brushed it off. “We wanted to make it unforgettable. I’d say we did our job,” he said with a gleam in his eye, adding nothing to deny or confirm the rumors. And yourself, just as sly and playful, simply said, “I guess you’ll never know. But you can certainly dream about it.” The ambiguity only fueled the fire. The video racked up millions of views within days, and the speculation became part of its mystique. Fans debated, celebrities whispered, and music critics declared it “one of the sexiest collaborations of the decade,” a “masterclass in tension and allure.”

The two of you certainly had fun watching people’s reaction to the track. Both of you had enjoyed the collaboration, the artistic chemistry being absolutely undeniable, and when Marshall offered to produce some tracks for your upcoming album, you happily accepted. The two of you spent a lot of time in the studio, getting to know each other and joking around whole you got work done. You were kind of amazed that the hype around your collaboration didn’t seem to die down. You were in a cozy corner of the studio, scrolling through your phones and watching the internet collectively lose its mind. Every tweet, every meme, every fiery reaction sent you both into fits of laughter and smirking exchanges. It felt like you were sharing in on some private joke, one that only you knew the punchline to. “Did you see this one?” you laughed, nudging him and holding your phone out so he could see. It was a meme of the two of you side-by-side with captions that read: ’When you make a whole music video just to flirt,’ and ’They can’t act that well… right?’

He chuckled, shaking his head as he read it. “I mean, they’re not totally wrong,” he murmured, his voice low, a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked up at you. You arched an eyebrow, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. “Oh, really?” You let the words hang in the air, daring him to take the bait. He leaned back, pretending to think about it. “Maybe,” he said slowly, smirking. “Maybe they’re onto something. All those people guessing we weren’t just acting… I mean, what do you think?”. You gave him a playful shove, laughing. “I think you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Nah,” he replied, scooting a little closer. “You’re the one who keeps egging them on.” He raised his eyebrow, giving her that signature cocky grin. “You love it. Admit it.” You rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’m not saying I don’t like watching them squirm a little,” you said, smirking as you glanced down at another comment that read: ’The only thing hotter than the track is the way they look at each other.’ “I mean, they do have a point, though. The chemistry is… undeniable.”

“Oh, we’re undeniable now?” he teased, leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Undeniable chemistry, huh?” You shrugged, pretending to be unaffected, though you were pretty sure that he could see the flush creeping up your neck. “I mean… I just call it like I see it,” you murmured, your voice a little lower, a little softer.

There was a charged silence as you both looked at each other, the playful edge lingering but shifting slightly, deepening. His fingers brushed yours, just barely, but enough that you both felt the spark. “You know,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking between her gaze and her lips, “we could give them a little more to talk about.” Your grin was wicked as you leaned in, your voice barely a whisper. “Now that would really set the internet on fire.”

[voice-of-the-tired]

(ramblings of a madman upcoming. this is borderline nonsensical but I just gotta get this out there)

ugh, I LOVE the voices parallels so much. they make me insane. and I've been thinking about opportunist/hunted and skeptic/smitten the most rn.

for the first two, in their respective chapter 2s they are survival responses put in situations where said responses are entirely reasonable, but will end up reinforcing the "status quo" if entertained. this is somewhat the case with most of the voices, but I think it's especially noticeable with them.

the opportunist has a "betray them before they ever get the chance to betray you" mentality, and would you look at that, the witch has the very same mentality! and he is CORRECT in thinking she will betray you. because she will. but by following him and what he thinks, you're just making it impossible to break the cycle of violence (this is literally the point of the thorn).

the hunted behaves... well, like prey, and uh. the beast IS a predator. he IS prey. she is hunting them. but if you just follow your instincts you'll never be able to free her, or defeat her, or leave together or learn about reconciliation or do anything else that isn't survive.

so their situations are reinforcing their behaviour, then their behaviour in turn reinforces their situation; they are stuck in a cycle. at least with the hunted you can have the skeptic to make a plan later on in the den, I guess. but it's still a fascinating thing.

I think the stubborn and the broken chapters are a bit similar to them in this regard, but those have more to do with giving meaning to the princess and choosing whether or not you should fight against it in the end. it's a bit of a different situation. skeptic and smitten also don't quite... doom themselves if you just follow them, even though they actively feed into the chapter's "concepts", because they're sort of "tools" made to complement and help you towards your goal (free the princess through skepticism or blind devotion) as opposed to survival responses.

talking about them... oh boy, skeptic and smitten in their respective chapter 2s. you can just go through with whatever the plan was (leave with her), but if you don't, they won't ever get the only thing they sought and will hurt others (and themselves) in their desperation. you take away smitten's happy ending, and you leave skeptic without answers, and to that they just. fucking lose it. going with the previous tool comparation, you could say that's what happens when a "tool" isn't useful in a specific situation any longer. it can't do anything else except for its designated function. so

when the illusion that love makes everything possible and that all you and the princess needed was each other shattered, the smitten couldn't believe it. this was everything he ever wanted and everything he knew; you are the hero. she is a damsel. you are in love. you save the damsel and live happily ever after. that's what HAD to happen, and if it didn't, then it will. he has to make it happen, because it can't and shouldn't work in any other way.

in the prisoner, if you don't take her head, you are shoved into eternal nothingness while left with only questions. what is this place? who is the narrator? what is he hiding? who is the princess? why is she locked up? how could she end the world? is there a world? where is it? why are we the ones doing this? why did the princess cut off her head? not only could they not go through with saving the princess like they tried before, but there are SO many questions, and skeptic didn't get any answers! they can't be left unanswered, the truth HAS to be unraveled. that's what he's been trying to do all along. it's the only thing that matters. they WILL keep going and they WILL figure it out.

they are too obsessed to care about anything else. they are too stuck in their tunnel vision to accept anything else. they are too far gone to do anything else.

lord help me I am going insane because of this game /pos

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .4 • Part .6 (soon)

Part 5

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All of a sudden you see Eijirou get up and pick up his things quickly, startling you.

”Sorry I need to go right now, thanks for your help! i forgot i needed to be somewhere” he chuckles apologetically.

”It’s alright, let me at least accompany you! What’s happening today?” you ask as you pick your things and shove them into your bag before following him.

”I completely forgot we had a match in another city and the bus is leaving in 10 minutes. The others are already waiting for me” he says, speeding up his pace and you do your best to keep up.

”Oh right! Hanta told me about it. I didn't know it was today, shit you better get here quickly, you want to run?” you offer as you chuckle.

”If it doesn't bother you, sure!” he laughs and the two of you begin running in the direction of the gymnasium where the bus was parked. You were able to get there in only three minutes thankfully. You both stop and try to catch your breath.

”We’re…here— I’m here!” Eijirou pants, hand on his chest.”I lost track of time…”

”At least you’re here now come on, get inside” the coach points to the bus with a nod of his head.

Hanta smiles and you make your way to him.

”Good luck on your match”

“I would have more luck if my lucky charm was cheering me on” Hanta replies with a grin.

“Oh yeah? Is that what I am now..” you poke his chest.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders playfully.

“Mmh” he nods. “Do you have anything better to do today?” he leans on the bus.

You sigh knowing that you did in fact have nothing else to do besides staying on campus to study or just go home. So if you had to choose, you’d rather stay with him.

”If it’s fine with your coach then yeah” you nod.

”Oh you don’t have to worry about that” he guides you inside the bus and you both sit next to each other while the others sit behind and next to you as you all enjoy the rest of the ride in a joyful atmosphere.

The whole entire time you and Hanta were glued to each other, shoulders always touching. You swore you felt his hand brush yours a few times and that made your stomach turn. This was getting so frustrating, you didn't want to admit it out loud because if you did you would realize that these…feelings were actually true and they couldn’t be true right?

Was what you felt for him truly more than friendship, wasn’t it going to ruin everything between you two if he knew? Hanta was just so funny and charming, he always made your day a whole lot brighter. He always knew the right words to say when you were feeling down. All the little gestures he does for and my god was he good looking…

His gorgeous brown eyes that made you weak in the knees whenever he looked at you—

“You alright?” you felt someone’s hand land on your arm, it was Hanta.

”Oh yeah yeah sorry!” you snap out of your trance looking down at your cards trying to stop the blush from rising more to your cheeks. This was so embarrassing why did you space out in the middle of the game to think about that.

”You’ve been more lost in your thoughts than usual Y/n, is there something on your mind” Mina asks you with a knowing grin on her face.

“Nothing, nothing at all” you say almost too defensive, causing the others to look at you with a confused face before laughing.

“Suuure” Denki says putting down his card and yelling “UNO”

”Oh come on…” everyone sighs in defeat and you chuckle. You realized you really need to talk to your best friends.

When you arrived, the other team was already here and they were looking quite determined. You sat on a bench next to Mina who said you were “assisting” her in her manager duties. The court was way bigger up close and the height of the roof was really impressive. It made everything look so much bigger.

The boys were stretching a bit further away and practicing together before the match began. There weren’t a lot of people watching since this was only a friendly match between two schools and yet you hoped the boys would win this. As they began the first set, everything was going smoothly and at the end, they won. The second set came and was a bit more challenging and the opposite team won.

After the referee whistled for the break the coach had demanded, they came back panting, sweat forming at the back of their necks. You hand them out their towels and bottles with an encouraging smile.

”You all are doing great, you’re going to win this”

The boys all stare at me and grin, Eijirou and Denki hugging me with one arm wrapped around my shoulder.

”Thanks y/n for cheering us on, we’ll do our best” Eijirou grins with a toothy smile. “Damn right we’re going to win this” Katsuki follows with a determined look.

“Hanta can’t lose this if you’re here” he walks past Hanta and nudges him with his shoulder which results in him glaring at Katsuki with what you thought was red creeping up his cheeks? His head was turned so you couldn’t see well.

After their coach gave them a motivational speech, another whistle echoed in the gymnasium and they all returned to the court. The last 2 sets were getting more and more intense. Denki was giving in his all at trying to receive the ball well for his teammates. Katsuki, who was the middle blocker, ran amazingly fast each time to reach the ball Hanta or Eijirou set for him. There were two other hitters you didn’t know but they were also doing great.

You could see through their eyes how fast they were analyzing everything that was going down in the match, from the position to the eyes. You had to watch them carefully to notice all of this, someone who was sitting too far away wouldn’t be able to.

You were happy with this opportunity the guys gave you to assist in their match today, instead you would’ve been probably in bed sleeping or doing god knows what.

They won the third set and now you weren’t even sitting on the bench anymore but were standing and screaming encouraging words with Mina. Everything was going even faster now, the ball going up and down, left and right in every direction.

Scoring point after point, the score was now at 24-22 for the guys. They only needed one more to win this.

And so came one of the most stressful moments of your life as you carefully watched the ball in the air. Almost touching the ground but Denki was here to receive it but so was the other team's libero.

This went on for what felt like hours, none of the teams wanted to lose even if it only was a friendly match which showed how passionate they truly were.

Hanta was now serving, a serious look on his face as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. Everyone was focused and the whole place was quiet. You could almost hear their heart beat.

He opened his eyes, took a few steps ahead. Throwing the ball in the air, you began to see everything in slow motion. Hanta slightly ran, crouched to gain momentum before jumping, his hand making contact with the ball as it came down. You blinked and heard a loud thud from the other side of the court.

Nobody moved before you and Mina screamed in happiness as you both hugged each other jumping in place and everyone began loudly clapping their hands.

The boys all collide with each other as they all hug in a circle.

You continue clapping with a big smile on your face when Hanta suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with you. He runs over to you before his arms wrap themselves around your waist and lifts you up in the air as you hold onto his shoulders.

“We won!” he laughs, spinning you both around. You laugh along with him and throw your head back.

“You did, you did! You were incredible, you all were. Oh my god that match was insane” you chuckle as he puts you back on the ground.

“Thank you for coming and cheering me on hermosa” he says looking tenderly in your eyes, hands still on your waist.

”Of course Hanta.”

[honey-tongued-devil]

HEYY

i saw the vi x chubby user and as a chubby girl I NEED more of the girlies x chubby user. please 🙀

[Arcane preference (girlies)] with a chubby s/o

I made you wait so long for nothing, I’m sorry if it’s short, BUT I haven’t forgotten about you!

Jinx:

- Forget that thing called “personal space.”

- If you want to sleep with her, you’ll be the little spoon, and she’ll even throw herself on top of you. She loves feeling human warmth, and with a partner with more body mass, it’s not painful to stay in a long embrace because no (or almost no) bones are attacking her.

- She pinches your love handles and thighs, then bursts out laughing. It's done with tenderness, she loves it to bits, and it’s something extremely rare in Zaun.

- If you can't find anything your size, she'll sew it for you from leftover fabric, or by beating up a passerby to steal their clothes. Either way, you don’t have to worry.

- If you even try to say the words "lose weight," she’ll furrow her brow, deeply offended: you’re hers, and if you lose mass, she has less of you for herself, which means you’re trying to take something from her.

- Which means for the following week, she’ll do everything to make you eat more, terrified that you might lose weight.

Vi:

- What’s the point of being so strong if not to lift you into her arms effortlessly?

- She makes you stay on her back while doing push-ups, carries you to the bedroom, and holds you on her lap on the couch.

- She’s a fighter, not a coward. If she can’t lift you, it’s not that you weigh too much, but that she’s too weak. And within three days, she’ll make sure she fixes this shortcoming.

- But it never actually happens. Vi never misses an opportunity to show you how strong she is and how special you are.

- When you talk under the blankets, she often loses herself playing with your soft spots, almost as if she’s relaxing.

Caytlin:

- She sits on your lap, but if you want, you can sit on her without any issues.

- She loves your body to bits, and if you try to hide it, she might put on a little show just to take off your shirt and enjoy what you were hiding, like your belly.

- Clothes aren’t a problem; she’ll have them made so that they not only fit you but also highlight your best features.

- No jokes here—when you go out together, she wants the world to see how proud she is of her partner and how attractive they are. So, she takes care of your preparation herself, even stealing a kiss here and there, but letting you choose what you want to wear.

Mel:

- She has a personal tailor who makes coordinated outfits for every occasion. She can’t let you look bad, and she wouldn’t want to, so she personally ensures every detail reflects you.

- She knows what you like and dislike, so she can correct the sketches herself, so when the clothes arrive, they’ll be a complete surprise.

- When you're in public, she likes to sit on your lap, if the occasion is casual enough to allow it. Otherwise, she’ll leave subtle lipstick marks on you before leaving, just enough to discreetly remind people you’re with her.

- She likes being the little spoon, feeling protected and vulnerable at least in one place, even though, subconsciously, she changes position while she sleeps. But in any case, feeling your softness against her gives her comfort.

Sevika:

- Think you’re big? Be more humble.

- She lifts you like you’re a little bunny, carries you around on her shoulder, takes you to bed in her arms, and constantly pulls you onto her lap, always keeping one hand on your waist.

- She loves skin-to-skin contact, and she’s strong enough to lift you completely onto her shoulders, with your back against the wall, and hold you like that until her ‘hunger’ passes (or until you can’t take it anymore).

- She’s still terrified of hurting you, so she always keeps you on the side of her good arm, so she doesn’t damage your body with her prosthetic limb.

- When you’re resting, she pulls you completely up onto her, no matter how tall or heavy you are, constantly reminding you that she’s big and strong enough.

[ssruis]

Wrt the people talking about the new set as fan service: my initial reaction was also “oh cute” & moving on, but after carefully reading the full arguments of the people who found it distasteful, I agree with their points. I’d normally link or post screenshots of the points made, but since the Prsk fanbase apparently is jumping people over this on twt I don’t feel comfortable doing that. To summarize and add some of my own explanation:

> everything in gacha games is fan service, which doesn’t have to necessarily mean it’s sexual - ode for the pure of heart featuring rui/touya (popular with female audience) looking very princely was fan service. The white day knight/fantasy theming is fan service (popular & well loved aesthetic). Fantasia squad was fan service for the players who like the male characters, etc etc.

> I don’t feel like arguing about all of the cards, so I’ll just point out what bothers me about the most egregious example (Rin’s card)

When considering art, you have to consider the deliberate choices the artist made, and what messages they are trying to get across with the atmosphere they have created.

Why choose the maid aesthetic? Why make these cards a player pov? Why choose framing that (using the grid composition, contrast and lighting from the window, the way lines direct the eye) makes the points of interest and emphasis Rin’s face *and* butt? Why choose that pose, with Rin looking over her shoulder, with a surprised expression and prominent blush? Why is the posing reminiscent of art of vintage pin up girls (or any other similar art movement)?

It’s male gaze. The answer is male gaze.

The male gaze is often just associated with overt sexualization, but that’s an overly simplified definition. The male gaze can also be portraying women in positions of servitude (most often within the home), emphasizing body curves (even through clothes), voyeuristic povs, emphasizing cuteness/demure-ness/shyness, etc. It’s about the (assumed male) viewer having power over the female subject.

Rin is cleaning, the light from the window heavily highlights her butt, the framing of window itself specifically draws the eye from her head to her back to her butt using contrasting colors/light/point of interest, the parallel lines in the piece direct your eyes down her body (Japanese audience, reading image from right to left). If the emphasis was on the action she is doing, rather than her body, the light source and brightest colors would be on the other side of the image, the duster would be brighter, as would the objects/set pieces she’s interacting with.*

Sexualization/male gaze isn’t restricted to the very obvious “woman sexy posing in a bikini” image, and having that viewpoint will only serve to limit the ways you understand art and artist intention. It’s similar to taking “all art is political” to mean “all art is either republican or democrat” and responding “well that’s stupid and you’re stupid.” You’re missing the point.

I’m a little disappointed the knee jerk reaction here seems to be “you’re wrong and you’re actually a freak who sexualizes minors for pointing this out” here, especially because the point of calling this out is to say that it’s distasteful to do a card like this for a character who is, despite not having a canon age, pretty much portrayed as younger than the main cast (making her 15 or younger).

Nobody is saying “this set sucks you can’t like it if you like it you’re problematic and project sekai should be cancelled forever”, it’s just something to keep in mind. You don’t have to agree with the argument, but acting like anyone pointing this out is insane isn’t fair or justified.

> also just as a side note: maid cafés have a pretty long history of sexualization, with the emphasis/appeal of having power over the workers and them being your servant while dressed cute. I don’t entirely think this set was going for a maid café look, but I do think it’s something to be mindful of.

> *it’s a little hard to articulate/explain this, and my knowledge on how much the average person knows about stuff like this is skewed due to my own education in art/art history/design/etc. If you find this confusing, I’m willing to explain more in detail and specifically point out what I’m talking about.

> I have a different post on the taisho/daisho romance elements, which is an entirely different discussion, so I’m not bringing that up here.

[violetsaffron5]

Beautiful Disaster (12)

← Chapter 11 • series masterlist • Chapter 13 →

12 | Okinawa

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

The group takes a trip to Okinawa

words: 3.8k

AN: Hey guys! Not sure if anyone is even reading this story anymore, but I fell of the face of the planet for a while, sorry about that. Things IRL were crazy with work and my personal life, and I just didn't have it in me to write anything. I actually had this chapter already done but forgot to post it here. It was posted on wattpad and Ao3 previously.

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

March 2012

You’re running late - class got out late, and then you wanted to go back to your dorm to take a quick shower. You would normally just do that at his place, but you also needed to finish packing a few items for your weekend getaway.

Satoru was able to talk his parents into letting him use their vacation home in Okinawa. Apparently, they have a few to choose from, but the beaches are supposed to be amazing and it’s close enough that you can go there for the weekend without having to spend too much time traveling back and forth.

From what you’ve gathered, this is a trip Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Utahime plan every year. They were partying and hanging out one night, and spur of the moment Satoru wanted to get away and have some fun elsewhere so they jumped on a plane and spent the weekend there.

It’s a little cold this time of year, but you guys will make the most of it nonetheless. It’ll be nice, getting away, spending a relaxing weekend with your boyfriend and closest friends, not having to worry about school or anything else getting in the way.

When you walk into the off-campus house, your eyes immediately land on Satoru, leaning against the wall with his little round sunglasses covering his eyes. He turns and smiles as you walk over, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a soft peck on the lips.

You apologize for being late, but nobody seems to mind. It’s still early enough in the day that when you arrive in Okinawa everyone will have a chance to unpack and relax before heading to bed.

While everyone does a few last-minute checks to make sure they have everything they need, you hear a crisp high-pitched laugh come from the kitchen that makes your skin crawl.

Your eyes lock with Satoru’s while kissing your teeth in automatic annoyance.

“Oh boy,” Utahime sighs heavily as you wait for an explanation as to why Mei is walking into the living room with her suitcase in tow.

“Dude… You didn’t tell her Mei was coming?” Suguru states grimly before you have a chance to say anything.

You tilt your head to the side, incredibly annoyed, “You knew she was coming and didn’t say anything?”

Satoru shrugs, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Sukuna invited her, not me.”

Your unamused expression is obvious as you quirk your eyebrow and glare at Sukuna from across the room. He grins, sharp canines on full display as he laughs quietly to himself, mischief in his eyes.

Fucker.

An irritated sigh leaves your lips but you decide to let it go. You were hoping to have a good weekend with your friends, and you’re still determined to do that, despite this little … hiccup.

The plus of dating someone who comes from an incredibly rich family, means there are times when you get to reap the benefits of his families hard earned money.

Case in point: taking their private jet to Okinawa.

And how could you possibly complain when being showered with complimentary champagne, spacious seating, and plenty of time to start your relaxing weekend?

Even Mei was bearable. But that’s mostly because she was tucked away at the back of the plane with Sukuna.

As expected, the Gojo’s vacation home - more of an estate really - is massive. The front is covered is lush, green grass with small areas of sand around a stone path that leads to the house - the front is covered with large, floor-to-ceiling windows to allow plenty of light.

The back is all white sand with a large pool - a hut off to the side with a hot tub, and another brick path that leads out to a dock with the ocean at your disposal. The water is so clean and beautiful here. Not as pretty as Satoru’s eyes, but a close second.

Inside the house is just as grand, with marble flooring, a huge kitchen with the latest appliances, and not a speck of dust in sight - it’s as if they have someone clean it, even though they don’t come here very often.

There are also more rooms than you know what to do with - enough space for everyone to have their own space without having to worry about sharing. Unless they choose to.

After deciding rooms - from which Sukuna and Mei don’t reappear, you leave Shoko, Utahime, and Suguru to their own devices, following Satoru down to the beach - only after promising to get into the hot tub with the girls tomorrow and spend time with them.

Tonight you’re spending the evening with Satoru.

He looks happy here, truly at peace. More than you’ve ever seen as he stands on the beach, sand between his toes, staring off into the wonders of the sea.

It’s reminiscent of the little beach he brought you to on your first date. Only this time there are no surfboards. He admitted, not long after you started officially dating, that he only used that as an excuse to touch you.

Dipping your toe in the cool water, a shiver runs through your spine moments before you’re splashed, head to toe, by salty freezing water.

Glaring at Satoru, he grins playfully before splashing you again and running into the ocean without a care in the world.

“Oh, you asshole!”

You run after him, laughing until he dives into the water. Huffing, you continue going out to where he submerged, legs kicking you out to see before yelping when large arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into that familiar hard chest.

“You really are a dickhead, you know that?” You’re not too upset, clearly, with the way your legs automatically wrap around his waist, his hands on your ass holding you in place.

He grins mischievously, “I’ll let you give my dick head, baby.”

“Don’t be gross.” You splash him gently with water before his lips connect with yours, and your arms wrap gently around his neck.

He pulls away to run his nose down the length of yours, causing you to sigh at the loss of contact before he’s back to nibbling your lower lip and kissing along your jaw.

Satoru is more loving than you ever could have imagined, especially after spilling your heart and telling him what happened between you and your mother. There was a part of you that was afraid he would think you’re too much of a mess, and wouldn’t want to deal with that part of your life.

But he’s proven you wrong. And this new direction your relationship has taken has made you really truly happy. You haven’t told him - or anyone really - but there have been thoughts lately that you can see yourself by his side for the rest of your life.

After what feels like forever, with kiss-swollen lips and pruney fingers from being out in the ocean, you make your way back to land. Shoko is there, smoking a cigarette and lying on one of the beach chairs.

Your cheeks heat because you didn’t realize she had made her way out here, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered. She does, however, hand you your phone and you eye is suspiciously wondering why she has it.

She shrugs, like she knows what you’re thinking, “Thought you’d want some pics. The sun was setting. You know, romance and all that.”

Shoko waves her hand in the direction of the ocean and you see what she means. The sun has started setting, and the pink, red, and purple hues from the sunset cast over the ocean.

“Wow,” you breathe, flipping through the few photos she took, “These are beautiful.”

Satoru lays his arms over your shoulders, looking at the pictures from over top your head, “Send me that one.”

You smile and do as he asks - you have your arm wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together, and smiling with the colors from the sunset in the background. It’s the perfect picture.

“I thought you said you were going to stop smoking,” Utahime scolds, startling all three of you. She’s marching towards Shoko with a fierce expression, Suguru walking behind her with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips.

Satoru chuckles, kissing your forehead, and lacing his fingers with yours. 

“We’ll… See you guys tomorrow.” He says, flashing his eyebrows at his friends before Utahime can continue her argument with Shoko.

Your cheeks flame immediately, giggling as you awkwardly wave to them. They mutter half-hearted good nights, not really paying attention to either of you.

The weekend is peaceful - spending the day exploring around the estate, going to the ocean and swimming, laying out reading and just having quality time with your friends.

Mostly.

Mei is still around but hasn’t shown up a lot, off doing her own this with Sukuna. Which is a weird thought, the two of them together, but to each their own. And at any rate, you’re happy she’s not hanging around and overstaying her welcome.

By evening the two of them are hanging out in the kitchen when the rest of you come inside from lounging at the beach. You don’t acknowledge either of them - annoyed, yet not surprised - Sukuna would invite Mei just to piss you off.

Wrapping your arms around Satoru, you hold him close as he places his hand loosely around your shoulder, talking with Suguru. You’re not paying much attention as you flash your eyebrows to Shoko and purse your lips, the awkwardness of the unwanted guests - at least unwanted to you - setting in the space.

Shoko gasps, causing everyone's attention to fall on her, “We should play a game!”

Everyone chuckles at the slight slur of her words - she’s been nursing several beers and a few mixed drinks all day, taking full advantage of her absence from clinicals or work.

“What’d you have in mind?” Suguru asks, laughing when Shoko lifts her empty beer bottle in the air.

“Spin the bottle.” Shoko grins like it’s the best idea in the world while you roll your eyes.

Everyone agrees to appease her drunken state, moving into the living room, moving chairs, and getting comfortable around the coffee table.

“Alright, if you don’t kiss the person the bottle lands on,” Shoko announces, pointing her index finger in your direction, “Then you have to drink.”

You purse your lips. You know why she decided to point at you, and only you when making this announcement, but you really didn’t need the direct call out. Sure, everyone would assume it’s because of you but this was just unnecessary.

A sigh leaves your lips as you nod once, letting it go. Shoko’s drunk and you’re sure she didn’t intentionally mean it to come across like that.

During the game Shoko and Suguru kiss, Satoru and Suguru (causing several giggles), Mei and Sukuna. Utahime’s spin lands on Satoru - he grins at her boyishly but she makes a disgruntled face, opting to drink.

Not that you would have cared - you know Utahime can barely stand him and even if they did, or even Shoko kissed him - it wouldn’t have meant anything between them.

When Satoru leans forward and spins the bottle, it lands on Mei to your annoyance. She smiles, moving from her spot on the couch, closer to Satoru across the table. You glare at Sakuna who smiles wickedly, smoking his cigarette before passing it to Shoko.

When Satoru doesn’t reach for his cup, you hand him yours. He raises an eyebrow like the cup has personally offended him in some way, “What’s that for?”

“To drink?” You explain slowly, “Since you’re passing.”

He scoffs, narrowing his eyes, “It’s just a kiss. In a game everyone wanted to play.”

“And there was an added rule if you don’t want to do the kiss, you drink.”

Your heart is racing, jaw clenched as you stare each other down. Part of you wonders if you’re being unreasonable right now. It’s a game, and to his point, everyone did agree to play. But if Choso were here, and you spun and it landed on him, you would have skipped in a heartbeat knowing Satoru doesn’t like your dynamic.

Hell, you were planning on skipping if it landed on Sukuna or Suguru too… and Mei.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, shaking your head slightly, defeated because you don’t want to argue right now and ruin everyone’s good time, even though you know it’s already happening.

“Fine,” You wave your hand in his direction, “Do what you want.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, grabbing the cup and downing all of his contents while his eyes bore into you, glaring.

“Maybe we… should head to the hot tub?” Suguru suggests, eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“Ooh, yeah!” Shoko perks up, eyes bright after watching the scene in front of her.

You don’t reply, going back to your room to change and cool off for a few minutes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Satoru appears but doesn’t speak. You can feel the tension rolling off him as he grabs his swim trunks and goes into the bathroom - away from you - to change before leaving the room.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t want to go back out there, and just stay in the room until you leave tomorrow. But at the same time, you do want to get into the hot tub one last time, forget about the stupid, childish game, and just move on.

When you come out of hiding and go to the hot tub, everyone is chatting happily. Satoru, still annoyed you can tell, helps you step into the water without falling and pulls you into his lap, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You listen to the many conversations happening - Suguru and Satoru talking, one of his hands running up and down the length of your leg, the tension slowly dissipating. Utahime and Shoko are talking about their work schedules and the classes they have coming up during the next semester.

Mei sits next to Sukuna, whose long arms are wrapped around the back of the hot tub. He has more tattoos than you realized. Not only on his face but on his chest, back, biceps, and wrists.

You’re about to ask Sukuna if they mean anything or if they’re religious - satanic being your first guess, or ritualistic in some way when Mei’s sharp voice cuts through your thoughts about Sukuna and wondering if he sacrifices puppies - you wouldn’t be shocked knowing him.

“Satoru. I’m so excited for Bora Bora this summer.”

Your brows furrow and jaw clenches, and not just because, to you, her voice is as grating as nails on a chalkboard.

Satoru nods, but you cut in before he has a chance to say anything, “You’re going on vacation… together?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Apparently. Mom started planning it after Winter break.”

“And your families are going together?” You clarify.

“Yeah. Several of Dad’s closest business partners are going.”

“Okay…” You exhale slowly, “How long will you be gone?”

Satoru shrugs again, “Not sure. Maybe a month? The details aren’t finalized yet.”

Kissing your teeth, you stare at him, bewildered for a moment. The earlier… disagreement causing your heart to ache and being told a vacation with Mei’s family has been in the works for months without anyone mentioning it to you.

And you know why Mei brought it up.

“Were you going to tell me? Or maybe you were planning on ghosting me again.”

You go to move, not wanting to sit on his lap any longer, but his grip on your waist halts your movements.

“I’m telling you now.”

A short, unamused scoff comes out, “You’re only saying it now because Mei brought it up in front of me.”

He sighs, frustrated, “Yes, I was planning to tell you. I’ve been trying to talk Mom into letting you come, but she’s been adamant about it only being business partners and their families.”

“Of course she is. I’m not good enough for her precious image.”

“And,” Satoru interjects, “I wasn’t sure if your mom would let you come.”

This time you successfully wriggle out of his lap and get out of the hot tub, “That’s a lie and you know it. Mom doesn’t give a shit as long as I tell her where I’m at and call her once a week.”

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks, watching you wrap a towel around your frame and head inside.

“Bed. I’ve been humiliated enough for the night.”

You can hear Satoru sigh heavily before Mei says just loud enough for you to hear, “Isn’t it tiresome having to chase after her every time she gets a little upset or something doesn’t go her way?”

You don’t stick around to hear Satoru’s answer. So annoyed you don’t care, or afraid of what he might say, you’re not entirely sure at the moment.

Satoru doesn’t come after you, which you’re partially thankful for. You need some time to yourself.

He’s been so adamant things are over between them, and you want to believe him so badly, but things keep happening to pull them back together.

Their families are business partners, there’s no getting around that. And it’s not like you can ask his dad to just stop that - that would be insane. They’re going to be around each other, a lot, whether you like it or not.

His mom is clearly pushing them to be together - probably wanting to merge their business or expand their support. Things only the filthy rich think about - marrying their children off like that for more growth in the business world.

Maybe it is supposed to be them together - Satoru and Mei. Maybe you’re the one getting in the way of their happily ever after. After all, she did come first in terms of romantic interest.

Despite what Satoru says, there had to be some sort of attraction between them for him to stick around. He wouldn’t do that only for his mom’s sake, you don’t think at least.

But you also don’t bring anything of real value to the table - in terms of familial ties. You’re not rich, your family has nothing to offer him, and yet he still insists you’re the one he wants to be with, despite Mei’s best efforts.

And maybe you need to look at things from his point of view - he and Mei grew up together, and yes, they have a history with one another. Nothing you do or say will ever stop that being a fact. Maybe you just need to put up with it and deal with the hardships and the families pushing them together until you’ve graduated and can move on.

But that presents other issues. If you and Satoru are still together, once he finishes law school, is guaranteed he’ll be working at his dad’s firm, so they’ll still likely be around each other.

You groan, pulling at your hair slightly in frustration before running your palms down your face as the bedroom door opens and closes quietly.

Satoru sighs, the bed dipping under his weight. He’s leaning forward, his forearms on his knees as he speaks calmly, “You know if I wanted to still be with Mei, I would be.” He watches you through the corner of his eye, “Why are you so insecure around her?”

You think about it for a moment, chewing on your cheek, “She’s beautiful, and-”

“You’re gorgeous,” he interrupts.

Normally your heart would flutter at his words but instead, your lips form a straight line before continuing, “She’s rich and her family means something to yours. It’s painfully obvious she wants you back, and she’s willing to do anything to break us up. You act like a different person when she’s around - and when there’s an argument or I bring up the fact that I don’t like her, you continue to say the same things: that nothing is going on, rather than hearing me out. You take her side over mine. It’s like… you’re ashamed of me.”

“I’m not. At all.” He says quickly, “And there isn’t anything going on. It doesn’t matter if you think she’s trying to break us up -”

“God. This! I mean, do you even listen when you talk to me? I just want to rip out my hair and scream sometimes because of you.”

Satoru raises his eyebrows, before asking incredulously, “Because of me?”

“Yes! All you do is defend her and tell me I should just deal with the shit she says or the fact that she’s trying to weasel her way in between us. But my boyfriend won't fucking do that, because everything is just my problem to deal with on my own.”

“That’s not what I said at all. Jesus, you’re so dramatic, about everything.” He stands, taking several steps away from you and leaning against the wall.

You stare at him, tears welling in your eyes. “You’re right,” you resign, trying to not let the tears escape and failing, “Clearly, I’m the problem, not her. You can just… go do what you want. I won’t stop you anymore.

“Are you serious?” He asks in disbelief as you stand, gathering your belongings, but you don’t reply.

It’s quiet in the room, aside from a few sniffles you can’t help. When you make your way to the bathroom to gather your toiletries, Satoru’s hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Stop. We’re not doing this,” He motions between the two of you. “You’re not leaving, or breaking up with me, or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now. If I wanted to be with Mei, or anyone else, I would be. But I’m not, I’m with you. Okay?”

A few stray tears stream down your cheek as you look off to the side, anywhere but him while whispering, “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

Gently, he reaches out and grabs your cheeks, forcing your face up, “Look at me,” he says quietly.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly let your eyes meet his ocean-blue ones as he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away the few stray tears, “I love you, okay?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod your head a few times, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before his lips meet yours.

Your heart still feels heavy, despite his words. They used to make you feel better, but it’s just the same thing over and over again.

At the start of the weekend, you thought you’d be happy spending your life by Satoru’s side - but now you wonder how much longer you can keep this up. The same pain and heartache on repeat with no real changes.

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @yogurttea @slut-jr @crystxlline @ritsatoru @abba-simp @myabae @etherealkakashi @hyperfixationsporfavor @yihona-san06 @ambersea7 @knightoflove

[lynnsartsworld]

Hi Lynn!!💓💓

Some questions for April:

1) What’s your favorite thing about Poppy?

2) What’s your favorite memory?

3) What’s your family like?

Love, myokk💓💓 (can’t send messages from a sideblog😆)

Question for One:

April’s Reaction:

April’s cheeks flush with a warm smile as she reads the question. Her fingers brush over the words, and she giggles softly, looking a bit bashful yet delighted. “Oh, I love this question! It’s so sweet! Of course, I’d love to talk about Poppy.”

April’s Answer:

“My favorite thing about Poppy? That’s hard because there’s so much I love about her! But if I had to pick one thing, I’d say it’s her kindness. She has this gentle, quiet way of caring for everyone around her, like she just knows when someone needs a bit of extra love or support. It’s one of those things that makes you feel safe and understood, you know? And she has this wonderful way of making any moment feel special. She’s truly one of a kind, and I’m so grateful to have her in my life.”

She pauses, smiling to herself as she thinks of Poppy, the fondness clear in her eyes.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

Question for Two:

April’s Reaction:

April’s eyes light up as she reads the question, and a soft, nostalgic smile spreads across her face. She takes a moment, lost in thought, before a memory clearly surfaces, making her eyes shimmer with happiness.

April’s Answer:

“My favorite memory? Oh, that’s a tough one because there are so many wonderful moments. But if I had to choose, it would be this quiet, cozy night with Poppy. We’d been out all day, just exploring and enjoying ourselves, and by the time we got back, we were exhausted. We made hot chocolate, curled up under a big blanket, and just talked for hours. It wasn’t about anything grand or exciting—it was just us, being close, laughing, and sharing little secrets. It felt so special and comforting, like time had slowed down just for us. I think those simple, heartfelt moments are the ones that stay with me the most.”

April sighs softly, hugging her arms around herself as she recalls the warmth of that night, a sweet glow of happiness lingering.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

Question for Three:

April’s Reaction:

April’s face lights up with warmth as she thinks about her little family. Her eyes soften, and she places a hand over her heart, clearly filled with love and gratitude.

April’s Answer:

“My family… where do I even begin? Poppy is just everything. She’s my best friend, my love, my anchor. She’s so caring and thoughtful, always knowing just how to make me feel safe and cherished. And then there’s Evangeline, our little light. She’s curious and sweet, with a smile that can brighten any room. I see so much of Poppy in her—the same kindness and spark. The three of us together, we’re this wonderful mix of love, laughter, and the occasional chaos that comes with raising a little one. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. It’s… home.”

April’s smile widens, and she glances away, her cheeks slightly pink, as if she’s still amazed that this is the family she’s built and the life she’s been blessed with.

✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱∴✱∵✱

April lets out a playful sigh of relief, a little grin on her face.

“Wow, I think that’s a wrap for now!” she laughs. “Those questions really made me think, but I loved answering every single one. It was like this little chance to share my heart, you know? And honestly, if anyone has more questions, I’d be happy to answer them. This was fun!”

She glances around with a bright smile, already eager for whatever else might come her way.

[shyshyshyz]

Unbreakable Until Broken

Summary: A widening rift forms between you and Vi as you choose different paths in the struggle between Piltover and Zaun. When you confront each other, words meant to protect end up driving you both even further apart.

W: Angst, heartbreak, implied violence, emotional distress, themes of betrayal and hopelessness

a/n: requests are open!!

The streets of the Undercity are quiet tonight, cloaked in a stillness that feels unnatural, almost haunting. You’d spent countless nights in these shadows with Vi, once thick as thieves, in sync with every look and movement. Now, the silence feels like a knife pressing against your back, sharper and colder with each passing moment.

And then you hear it — the unmistakable sound of boots against the cobblestones. Even before she rounds the corner, you know it’s her.

Vi steps out of the darkness, her face half-lit by the sickly glow of a nearby street lamp. She’s a silhouette of tension, fists clenched, jaw tight. Her eyes, once so warm when they looked at you, are hard, unforgiving. You stand your ground, feeling the urge to look away but forcing yourself not to. If this was the end, you needed to face it fully.

“Thought you’d show up here,” she says, voice low and gravelly, carrying the hurt she’s tried to hide beneath layers of anger. “Couldn’t leave things unfinished, could you?”

You swallow hard, steeling yourself. “I came because we need to talk, Vi. You know that.”

“Do I?” She takes a step forward, the hurt flashing in her eyes as she looks at you. “Seems like you’ve been talking plenty with them,” she spits, bitterness lacing her words. “You’re practically one of them now, aren’t you?”

You flinch, feeling her words dig deep, sharper than any blade. “This isn’t about sides, Vi. It’s about Zaun. It’s about the people suffering while we get stuck fighting each other. You and me — we were supposed to be different. We were supposed to protect them together.”

“Protect them?” Her laugh is hollow, laced with disbelief. “Protect them by siding with those Piltover scum? They’re the reason we’re down here, fighting for scraps. They’re the reason my family’s dead, that Vander’s dead, that… that you’re about to be dead to me too.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You’ve faced danger together, you’ve faced heartbreak together — but you never thought you’d face this. Her words leave you raw, exposed. Part of you wants to lash out, to make her hurt just as much as she’s hurt you. But you hold back, knowing that adding fuel to the fire would only burn the last fragments of what you still had left.

“Vi, I’m not your enemy,” you say, voice wavering. “I did this for us. For the people down here. I thought — I thought if I could work with them, if I could find a way to ease the tension, maybe we could finally get some peace.”

“Peace?” Vi snarls. She takes a step closer, fists shaking. “You think they want peace? Piltover doesn’t care about peace. They only care about controlling us, using us. They’ll smile to your face, make promises, and then gut you the second you turn your back. And you… you’re just letting them.”

You’re trembling now, the anger and heartbreak boiling over. “So that’s it? After everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to see me as a traitor?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and the silence is louder than any of her words. She looks away, as if unable to meet your gaze. “I don’t know what I see you as anymore.”

The pain in her voice is like a dagger. “I’ve given up so much to try and do what’s right,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I thought if anyone could understand, it would be you.”

Vi’s face contorts, her expression a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You didn’t have to give us up.”

“I didn’t give us up!” you shout, the anger and desperation spilling over. “I fought for us. But you left me no choice. You wouldn’t listen. You were too blinded by your hatred to see any other way.”

Her eyes narrow, and you realize your words have only made things worse. She’s furious now, hurt boiling over into something darker. “So this is my fault, huh? I was the one trying to protect Zaun — protect you. And this is what I get?”

“Maybe you should’ve been more worried about listening than protecting,” you fire back, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “You’re so quick to fight, to throw punches. But you never stop to think. To ask if maybe, just maybe, there’s another way.”

Her face falls, and for a moment, you think you see a glimmer of the girl you once knew — the girl you loved. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a mask of indifference that cuts deeper than her anger ever could.

“You’re right,” she says softly, voice hollow. “I don’t think. I just fight. And maybe that’s all I ever was to you — a fighter. Someone to throw herself in harm’s way while you played at diplomacy with our enemies.”

“Vi, you know that’s not true,” you whisper, but your voice sounds so small, so insignificant. She shakes her head, looking at you like she’s seeing a stranger.

“I don’t know anything about you anymore,” she mutters, her voice breaking. “I thought I did. But maybe I was wrong.”

You reach out, desperate to bridge the gap between you, but she pulls away, the movement tearing through you like shrapnel. “Please, Vi,” you plead, voice choked with unshed tears. “Don’t do this. We can figure this out. We can still fix it.”

But she shakes her head, turning away from you. “I don’t think we can, (Y/N). I don’t think I can.”

You stand there, frozen, as she walks away, each step echoing in the empty alleyway. A part of you wants to chase after her, to hold on, to make her understand. But another part knows that it’s over, that something vital has shattered between you, something that may never be repaired.

As her figure fades into the shadows, you’re left alone, the silence pressing in on you, colder and emptier than ever. You’d once thought that nothing could come between you and Vi, that your bond was unbreakable.

But as the echoes of her footsteps fade into the distance, you realize that some things, once broken, can never truly be fixed.

[missfrustration]

grip on the barrel (toji fushiguro x reader, 18+)

rating: explicit 18+, minors do not interact!

tags: pwp, shameless smut, canon universe, hate sex, misogynistic and sexist language, degradation, gun kink, muzzle kink, masturbation, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, co-workers, not for the faint of heart

A/n: the following content contains some pretty intense gunplay, and some seriously fine toji content, you have been very warned! on ao3 here!

word count: 2.3k

-----------

“I didn’t think you were the type to torture someone after they spit out everything they know.”

“I didn’t think I would be hired to work with a brat like you.”

The man in front of you methodically wiped off his stained knives before putting them in an engorged purple worm you couldn’t believe was real. You shook it off.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bold in how you handle your missions, I wouldn’t have to help your sorry ass, Toji.”

The man says nothing, choosing to lazily stride ahead of you to the rendezvous spot in the tunnel of back alleys.

Although you were hired specifically for your information-gathering skills and methods, you were not fully briefed on the assigned target, the ‘Vessel.’ Yet here you are, with the secretive organization’s lead hitman at their disposal, Toji Fushiguro.

You catch up to him, pointing a conniving finger at the side of his face. It’s the same side that has that harrowing scar on his mouth. 

“And what you did back there? I’ve been doing this as long as you, Toji, and we both know a chump that’ll start talking after a few punches. Bringing in the damn armory fucks up our plan when you start cutting off tongues.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, little lady.” He turns to you, towering over your figure with an intimidating presence that is overly purposeful. The blood on his chest from the mission is prominent, with no intention of him to hide it. “I don’t play when there’s money on the line. If you don’t follow my lead, we don’t do the job right, and you’ll end up like them. Got it?”

You step up to him, unbothered by his threat. He cocks his head at your audacity to challenge him.

“I can work fine on my own. Not my fault your m.o. is shitty enough to have a girl like me work with you.”

“The only time I work with girls like you is when they have hands that please me. Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue at you, rubbing his neck. To him, you’re a pest he’s stuck with that he has no intention to entertain.

“I’m sure they get paid to please you. Must be dehumanizing to fuck a hardass.”

“They’re the ones that end up giving me money. I do too well for them.”

“Jesus, gag me.”

“With that attitude, I won’t.” His comebacks come out with ease, yet they make you want to die on the spot.

“Look, I know you know more about this stupid vessel than the organization does. Not only that, you reveal classified client information to the only suckers that you decide to keep alive. That doesn’t sound like getting the job right; it sounds like you don’t care what’s best for the clients if it’s in the way of your fucking ego. Likely, you don’t even have the brain capacity to process what I just said.” 

His face clicks to you as it contorts in anger. In a flash, his fingers fly to your hair, pulling your head by the scalp to yank your eyes to him. His other hand pulls a gun from the creature and aims at the thick of your temple.

His face levels with yours, now flush against your ear. 

“I don’t need a wench like you talking shit to me. All you women are good for is being fucked.” His words are like daggers, piercing violently into your ear in booms.

Toji moved quicker than you could process, and your breath hitches from his hands on you. He slams you against a brick wall and the barrel of the gun presses against the side of your head. His hands roughly tangled in your hair, and his annoying mouth pressed to your ear again.

“I got no brain, huh? Say that shit again when I paint yours all over this fucking alley.” His tone is purposeful; the words are annunciated as he buries the gun to your head. He wants you to be scared enough to submit under him.

You should back down now—say you’re sorry about pissing him off and to let you go—yet you’re the opposite of scared. Your hastened breaths seem to be from the terrifying scene presented to you. That’s the natural reaction from someone else in your position. 

You try to pry yourself off, only succumbing to his raw strength. But Toji can see the change in your eyes when the weapon is turned on you and your bodies feel so close. 

Mmph.

You moan from the hands that hold you, making any words of defense hold no weight. You scramble from his hands to grasp any dignity, but the eyes that were once blazed in hellfire are now doused in curiosity.

“Oh, interesting ,” Toji says, pulling you close as he looks at your heated face. His face is irritatingly smug. “I guess I was right about you, little girl.”

“You fucking asshole,” You seethe. “Just put me down.”

“Oh, do you really want that? I can tell by your eyes that you fucking love this, don’t you?” He glides the handgun down your face, sliding down your chin and now firmly planted on the corner of your lips. “I can shut that dirty mouth up if I wanted to.”

“Like hell you could.” 

But you can’t deny the sensation in between your legs when he points the gun at you. He rubs the barrel of the handgun, twisting it against your skin as if to carve it into you.

This same man has killed more people this week than nights in a year. He tortures with no remorse and kills with no feeling—a cold, calculated monster who now turns all of his sadistic tendency towards you. You were so close to death that you could practically taste the power from the barrel that could shoot into your skull at one pull of his finger.

And you can’t help but moan again. 

You can’t help but pant from feeling overwhelmed by the dangerous man in front of you. It was like spinning a life-or-death roulette, with each second more thrilling than the last. 

“You’re drooling like a mutt. You’re the craziest bitch I’ve met.” Toji laughs. “Why don’t you show me you’re more interesting than women I use off the job?” 

Your bloodstream fills will rage, caging your body from total submission. But you know he has you cornered: your biggest turn-on has been revealed. 

“You fucking deaf? You can’t do anything better than every girl that’s opened her legs for me.” He snares.

“Asshole.” 

Your mouth moves to suck on the gun. The hard rubber of the silencer clacks with your teeth, and your lips clasp a ring around the barrel. 

You’re not stupid to know that there are a few more shots in his magazine. Toji shot in the ceiling earlier to intimidate the grunts you got information from. He’s only a trigger away from blowing your head off, yet the level of danger has you moaning on the gun, half-lidded and legs trembling against Toji’s calloused body. 

“Jesus,” Toji says.

You notice a glint of exhilaration in Toji’s eye, and a jolt of arousal runs down your spine when you feel the pressure of the gun increase. 

Toji shoves the silencer down your throat, watching your lips swallow it down and eyes begin to water.

Above all, Toji was more interested that you haven’t pulled away from the long barrel shoved down your throat, instead your cheeks hollow out. You choose to take it in your mouth, now sucking enough to taste the bitterness of the gunpowder still left on the muzzle.

“Thought I was just some hardass, hm? Now I have you gagging it down like a slut.”

He pulls it out of your mouth, watching you cough out. 

“Bastard, I know you like this too.” You say, “You wouldn’t keep going unless you liked it.”

“With some girl thinking she’s all that?” Toji forces your body on the ground with your back flush to the brick wall. “What I want is to have you squirm.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Your ass hurts from that fall, causing you to shift your legs. 

“Easy.”

You don’t think you should’ve shifted, as Toji eyes narrow on them. In one fluid motion, he grabs your legs before ripping your cargo pants off of you. He didn’t even spare a second to look at your black lacy underwear before tearing it off. Within seconds, he already has you stripped bare on your bottom half. 

Then he grabs his gun again. 

“Don’t keep them closed.”

Toji’s hand split into your thighs, cracking them open with sandpaper palms. Even his grip is brutish, and you see your soft skin squish from it. When you tried to close your legs, it seemed that he would wretch your plump thighs wider. He puts himself between them. 

You can see the lights in his eyes go off when Toji’s face contorts to sick pleasure. He grabs the gun and dives it between the aching apex of your thighs. 

The second the cold muzzle of the gun touches your clit, you feel a wave of warm fuzz. You practically melt into the touch. He languidly rubs it against you, watching you twitch against the gun in sick intrigue. 

“Such a deprived slut.”

“And you’re a sick fuck.”

Yet, both of your eyes are glued to the scene. Toji is practically fucking you with the gun with the way it rocked into you. You moaned against him, reveling in the way he could easily mutilate your body if he wanted to. It all made the gun slick against you faster. 

A devilish smirk came to your face. 

“Put it in.” 

Toji raised an eyebrow, obviously persuaded by your offer yet not wanting to give in without pure degeneracy.

“Touch yourself before I do.”

No, this man wants to defile you without holding back. You could practically gag, yet it was lost on the erotic sound on your tongue. You fucking hate Toji, yet you’re hate fucking at its finest with the Sorcerer Killer. 

You gather your juice on your fingers before diving into your pink bud of nerves. The thousands of nerves screamed in lust when the skin contacted. 

“Shit.” 

Toji’s eyes gall to your hands, watching you fuck your sensitive clit. Your hand flicks back and forth so fast that invites Toji to thrust the silencer into you. You feel your walls stretch to the gun, screaming from the pain of the rugged ridges, yet your legs shake from the ecstasy. 

The way that Toji grips his trigger makes you lull your head back. Your fingers start to work a pace that rocks you closer. You feel so close, but you stop before you can cum. You want this moment to last.

Toji could give less of a fuck what you wanted.

“Who said you could stop?” Toji says, starting to thrust it inside you at a degenerate pace. He grabs your hair, lunging into your ear. 

“Keep. Going.”

You grunt in annoyance, yet you comply like a dog.

Your fingertips come back to your pink bud, rocking your hips against your hand slowly. Toji’s body is pressed against you, focusing on panting and sucking your sensitive ear, encouraging you to keep going. He grunts into your ear, lips taking your lobe, biting it hard enough for you to squeak, thrusting the barrel fast enough to make you cum; it’s all so sadistic, yet you didn’t stop him.

Toji rustles his hand out of your hair and down his pants, popping his hard erection out before immediately beating it off. The way he starts to pant from the sensation, from the vision of you, was both annoying and so enticing. You displayed your dripping arousal to him, watching the movie that was his cock bucking into his hand. 

You ram against the wall from the sheer intensity of Toji thrusting his silencer into you, erotic noises come out of your mouth, ripping out of you when Toji bites down on your neck. It was the catalyst for your entire cunt to burst in pleasure.

You burst into animalistic moans as you cum on Toji’s gun, and he sure as hell loved it. He helped you ride that despicable orgasm with each deep thrust of the gun hitting your cervix. The pleasure was so overwhelming your thighs hugged against his body, and you lunged into the crook of his neck. You bit down on the flesh of his shoulder mid-climax, fully enthralled by sheer pleasure that it was almost too much to bear.

Once Toji pulls out of the gun, he eyes down the creamy substance that stained the black exterior. It dripped down like honey before it lifted onto Toji’s tongue. He swallowed it with an insatiable hunger, practically rolling his eyes when his lids fluttered.

“The roughest girls taste the sweetest,” He groans erotically. “It makes me want more.”

“Like you could’ve taken it further,” you panted, starting to get up.

Toji scoffs.

“Oh, that would’ve really killed you,” He darkly laughs, “and I need you to make it to the rendezvous. I’d rather die than have to carry you there.”

“If you keep your vulgarity, I would rather die than have you touch me again.”

“Don’t be like that. I can catch you on a day we're off and easily break you in like a fucking bottle. Get a little vacation from work; I’ll make sure your little legs can’t get up again.”

“Don’t count on it, asshole. Don’t think we’re buddy-buddy just because you made a girl cum for once.”

“Just admit it. You loved it like a filthy little vixen.”

“In your dreams.”

But Jesus, if he can make you feel like that without his dick, you can’t imagine what full-on sex with a cold assassin is like.

There is no fucking way to save this business relationship now.

[arisewanekosuki]

Once again congratulations on reaching 200 followers! 🎉🎉🎊🎊 Let's have fun with the celebration! ＼(＾▽＾)／

& for the event, let's bring Albedo, Heizou, Lyney & Kazuha to Fontaine! o(>ω<)o

(Although kazuha may not be known as one of the rizz kings, but his elegant flowery words can definitely make ones heart flutter >////<)

Thank you in advance & have a nice day! 💐💐💐

-shizukano

Hehe thank you again Shizu! I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish it tho ;-; But I hope you'll still like it!!! o(*>3<*)o @shizukano Event Masterlist -------------------------

[Traveler's little helper event] [Albedo, Heizou, Lyney and Kazuha in Fontaine]

Aether sighed. “Why do you have to take THEM this time?” was only a question swarming in his head. Lyney and Heizou were talking with each other, while Albedo and Kazuha were waiting for you in silence. Aether turned his head to look at you with a pout. You notice his staring and then smile, hiding the rest of stuff you wanted to take in pocket dimension. He was still pouting, hoping you’ll change your mind and take him instead. You approached him and patted his head. -“Aw, don’t worry Aether! We’ll take care of everything so please rest.” -“But I don’t need to-“ you placed a finger on his lips, stopping him from finishing the sentence. -“Nuh-hu! I don’t want to hear it! You've been fighting too much lately! Even get sick! This time stay and rest okay?” He wanted to argue that he is not sick anymore, but you’re right, he feels tired and rest would be nice. “But can’t you just rest with me?” he thought. Just looking at the guys standing by the door of the mansion makes him forget his weariness. -“(Y/n) are you ready to go?” asked Heizou, smiling at you, but for a moment Aether could see the smirk on the detective’s face. -“Yes, I’m coming!” you hugged Aether for goodbye “Be good and make sure Paimon won’t eat everything we have in the kitchen! Bye!” You waved at him while going outside. -“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her!~” Lyney winked at Aether and went after you. The golden haired boy stood in front of the closed door and mumbled to himself. -“Maybe I should close the Teapot for some time when she’s back…”

After finishing the commissions and getting payment from Katheryne your group decided to eat something. -”How about going on a picnic?” asked Heizou with his hands behind his head. “I’m sure you and Aether learned new recipes, we can cook together!” he smiled towards you. -”That's not a bad idea! What do you think guys?” You asked with excitement. The other boys smiled, agreeing with this plan. -”I know a good place for this! I’m sure you will like it!” said Lyney. -”Hehe! Is that so? Show the way then!” The magician took your group to a field with lovely flowers. From here you can see a small island with a statue of Seven being on top of a hill and behind it there is the big tower looming over Fontaine ocean.  Kazuha and Albedo prepared a place where you can cook while Lyney took from his hat a blanket and laid down on the spot he thinks you’ll like. You and Heizou meanwhile look through the recipes and decide what to cook. -”How about we make Poisson Seafood Soup and Feast-O's? I think you will like the last one~!” -”No matter what you choose to make! I’m sure I’ll like it anyway! Especially when it is made by you~.” Heizou smiled while getting closer to you. You can feel your cheeks getting a bit warmer.  You coughed into your hand. -”Well… Aether is a much better cook than I am so I'm not sure if it will be that great…” -”It will! My intuition says so! And I'm here to help as well!” The detective wanted to put his arm around your shoulders but he was stopped by the magician who appeared out of nowhere. -”(Y/n)~ How about making some sweets too? I want to make my special Cubic Tricks!”  -”O-oh! That's a great idea!” You were surprised by Lyney's appearance but the thing that makes your heart beat a bit faster is the fact that two boys are very close to you. And they for some reason are getting even closer, making you sandwiched between them. “Uhm…boys? How about we start cooking?” You just wanted them to step back a bit before your cheeks start to burn from heat. -”But ma chérie! I can’t start! You’re holding something I need!” Lyney said dramatically, you looked at him confused. Then he took your hand placing his other one on top of your palm. -”Huh?!” That was the only thing you could say at this moment, too stunned by sudden contact. Then you start to feel something round on your palm and before you knew it there was a bulle fruit. “Wow!” Lyney chuckled. -”I’m glad you like this small trick~!” -”I have to say that was a really interesting one!” added Heizou. -”If you ever visit Fontaine again feel free to come to one of my magic shows.” -”I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled at this, it always makes you feel happy when your friends get along. If only you knew how much there is rivalry between those ‘friends’.  After some time you finished making Poisson Seafood Soup and Feast-O's. Lyney finished his speciality too. -”Mmm~ Smells really nice.” said Kazuha approaching you. “Is everything ready?” -”Yes! .. Oh wait, I want to make something more! But you can take the finished food!” you said. You thought of making La Lettre a Focalors, you know Albedo prefers sweets more so you hope he will like the cake.  -”And what does my partner want to make now?” asked Heizou, placing his chin on your shoulder. You noticed that Heizou is very clingy today. -”You will see! Go where the rest is and wait for me~!” you poked his cheek. -”Hmm…alright!”  The boy went to the others who were waiting on the blanket. Thankfully Teyvat has its own laws and even making food seems to go much faster than in your world so you don’t have to worry about making the boys wait for too long. And let’s not forget you can bake using a pot.

After a short time your cake was ready. You went to where the rest of the group was. -”Sorry for the wait! I made one more treat!” After that you joined and started to eat with the rest. Looking at everyone hoping to see that they like the food.  -”Mmm! Delicious! See I told you, your food will be great!” said Heizou, munching on onion rings.  -”Heizou is right, thank you for making this for us. It's always nice to try something new.” smiled Kazuha, taking a second helping of Seafood Soup. -”Truly, if you don’t mind can you teach me the recipe? I’m sure Klee will like this one.” said Albedo, enjoying the taste of the dishes you made with Heizou. -”Of course! If you want, when we come back to the Teapot I can teach you!” you smiled, happy that everyone is enjoying the food. -”If you don’t mind, maybe we can both cook something for my siblings in future? I’m sure they will love your cooking!” said Lyney, with a big smile on his face. -”Mr. Magician, I hope you’re not trying to steal our (Y/n)?” Heizou smirked at the boy sitting across from him.  -”I wouldn’t dare Mr. Detective! Our dear (Y/n) is a free spirit, I wouldn’t ever try to clip her wings off.” Lyney smirked back, with a dangerous glint in his eyes. When two boys were ‘talking’ you moved closer to Kazuha and Albedo. -”Would you like to try a cake I made?” the two boys nodded, taking slices from you. Both of them in silence enjoying the taste of the treat. “So? How is it?” you asked, a bit nervous. -”I think your cooking is improving more and more whenever I have a chance to try it. Not only I’m filled but it soothes my soul as well.” replied samurai. -”I have to agree. Your cooking always boosts my energy.” Albedo smiled. You smiled back, their comments warming your cheeks.  -”T-thank you! I’m glad you enjoy it!” Before you could take another bite of the cake, a hand holding pink candy came close to you. -”Say “aaah”~!” said Lyney, excited for you to try the sweets he made. For a moment you hesitated, getting a bit embarrassed to be fed by a cute magician. But you opened your mouth and then felt the sweet taste of candy. -”Mmmm! It’s very good! Can I get more?”  -”Of course!” He wanted to feed you again but Heizou snatched the pack with candies. -”I want to try it too!” and with that he started to eat them with other boys and you. Lyney didn’t show it on his face but deep inside he was pouting. He is already planning to take you somewhere later, where the two of you can spend time together. After all, he loves when your eyes are on him.

After the picnic you decided to take your group for a walk to where the Fontaine Institute remains are floating in the air. -”If you find any of those mechanical beetles, please grab them for me okay?” -”Mechanical beetles?” asked Kazuha. -”Yes!! They are big like onikabuto and they can fly too!” -”Do you perhaps need them for someone?” Asked Albedo. -”Yes! Wriothesley said that he wants to help me and Aether next week, so I need them to make him stronger as a thanks!” Lyney was the first one to stop walking. -”The Duke wants to help you?!” you turned around and smiled at him. -”Yeah! I was surprised too! But it will be nice to spend some time with him!” Heizou came closer to Lyney and asked in whisper -”Who is that Duke?” -”…He is the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide… and if you see him you will understand why am I worried of her spending time with him…” the magician whispered back. Meanwhile you noticed a meka beetle scanning some flower, you approached it and caught it. Albedo and Kazuha came to you to see the mechanical bug. -”See! Those are mechanical beetles I was talking about! …hm… I think their real name is…um.. subdetection unit?” -”Interesting…” Albedo murmured, taking the bug in his hand. -”Do you think you can use your alchemy to make a copy of this one?” -”I can try but I don’t think my copy will work if you want to use them for ‘ascension’.” -” I see! I was just curious if you can create mechanical things with alchemy too!” While you and Albedo were talking Kazuha came with more little robots in his hands. -”I found some more.” he smiled while giving them to you. -”Ooh! Thank you Kazuha!! It seems there are many of them in this area!” -”How about small competition?” came Lyney with Heizou in tow. “Let’s see who will find the most of them in this area!” You looked at him with excitement. -”Sure!! I’m on it!” you replied. -”Me too.” Kazuha joined. -”Count me as well!” Heizou smirked. -”I don’t mind taking part in it.” Albedo smiled. And with that you all went to search for mechanical bugs. You may not have a vision but thanks to your ‘connection’ with Aether you can use Elemental Sight. You concentrated hoping to notice where little robots are hiding with it. Thanks to this you found 6 of them.   You didn’t notice you started to go further from the area where you were supposed to search, too immersed in trying to find more.  And because of that you didn’t notice four Meks that were slowly approaching you. -”Aha! I found you!” You were reaching for the bug but before you could grab it, someone took you in their arms and jumped far away. In the place you were standing a second ago, the ground was slashed by Annihilation Specialist Mek’s leg. -”That was a close one.” looking up you were greeted by red eyes. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” Kazuha smiled gently. You were confused for a moment but then noticed other boys standing before you and Kazuha, ready to fight with Meks. The samurai put you on the ground and pet your head. -”Leave this to us!” And after saying that he pulled out his sword and rushed to hit one of the Meks. -”Please stay here.” Said Albedo, making the artificial flower to bloom under your feet that brought you up, so you won’t be hit by enemies. You saw them fight many times already and yet somehow, they looked more elegant than before. The reason why was simple. They really wanted to impress you and assure you that with them you’ll always be safe. 

After the last fontaine robot was destroyed, the flower slowly put you down on the ground. Albedo was first to come to you. He looked you up and down and then nodded to himself with a smile. -”Thankfully we avoided the situation of you getting hurt.” he said while shaking the dust off you. Heizou sighed. -”We lost sight of you for a second and you almost got…cut in half…” His brows furrowed, not wanting to even imagine how it would end if Kazuha was one second late. -”You all know that I can’t die here, no matter what happens to my body, it will be back together and I will look like nothing happened! This is why I would prefer if you all were more concerned about yourself. I… I would hate it if anything bad happened to anyone…” you looked at them with worry. Albedo places his hand on your cheek, caressing it.Your heart skips a beat by this gesture. -”We are all aware of this…ability of yours. But still, do you think we would like to see you get hurt like this?” He tried to avoid saying how gruesome it would be if that Mek got to you. -”Albedo is right. You’re important to us and we wish that nothing bad would happen to you.” Said Kazuha, coming closer to you.   -”Guys…” you sighed “Alright, I will be more careful. I’m sorry for worrying you all…” Lyney joined and patted your head.  -”Let’s stay close from now on, alright?” -”Yeah! … Oh! We were traveling on the land all this time! I want to show you all pretty places underwater too!! Let’s go!” and you ran towards the water. The boys looked at each other and then and your figure was getting smaller and smaller. -”... And there is our “stay close” huh”.  Said Heizou scratching his head. Kazuha chuckled.  -”When she is excited she quickly forgets about dangers, but… I find this side of hers quite endearing~” Kazuha smiled and then started to go where you went. The magician smiled at that and followed after the samurai. Other two boys stopped at the shore. -”So…we really can just dive like this?” asked Heizou, unsure of jumping into the Fontaine sea. -”There is only one way to find out.” Albedo said while going into the water and diving in. Heizou stood there for a moment and sighed. -”Shouldn’t we all at least wear something different for that?” After saying this to no one, he went after the group.

-”Come here!” you called while waving at the boys. -”Wow, we can even talk underwater?!” said Heizou, finally realizing he really can breathe underwater “How is it possible?!” -”There are many mysteries in this world that we may never understand my friend.” Kazuha said, awed by the environment.  You swimmed up to Heizou from behind, placing your hands on his shoulders and your chin on his head. -”You can wonder about it when we come back to Teapot! Now let’s enjoy this moment before it gets dark!” You let go of him. “Look! There are some Blubberbeasts!” You pointed at the small group of seals. “Let’s play with them!” and with that you swim towards the chubby animals.   The fontaine creatures seem to like Kazuha and Heizou to your and Lyney's dismay. -”Come here little one!” you tried to grab the attention of the smallest Blubberbeast but it ignored you and was swimming around Kazuha. You pouted, making the samurai laugh. He swam towards you and took your hand, surprising you with this gesture. You two started to swim a bit further from the rest, the little seal was following you. When you stopped, your new chubby friend started to swim around you both, this gave Kazuha a small idea. He held both of your hands and started to spin with you. The two of you started to dance, it wasn’t anything elegant, but you two didn’t mind, laughing together.  -”Hmm… this gave me an idea for a poem.” Kazuha stopped his movement and held you close. The water is cool but now you start to feel like you’re in hot springs. -”Oh? May I hear it?” you said, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. Kazuha opened his mouth but was interrupted by someone. -”Oh there you are!! I was worried some monster attacked you!” Lyney swimmed close to you and took your hand. “(Y/n)! There is something I want to show you!” and with that he started to go in the opposite way of Kazuha, taking you with him. -”Lyney! Wait!” you looked at Kazuha, who smiled and waved at you. -”Don’t worry, I can tell you when we will be back in the teapot.” You nodded at that and started to follow Lyney.

The Magician took you to some big clam. -”Now, can you open it?” he smiled mischievously. You looked at him confused but did what he asked. When the clam opened you saw a beautiful pearl in it. -”Woah!” -”Do you like it?” -”Yes! It’s really pretty!” Lyney smiled at you. -”Then! Now close it!” You did as he said. “Ready for a magic trick?” You nodded with excitement. The boy opened the clam and there was nothing. The pearl completely vanished. -”Oh? Where is it?” you asked, looking around the clam. Lyney smiled and pointed at his neck. When you touch around yours you feel something. You gasped when you noticed there was a necklace made of pearls. -”This is amazing!! Can I have them?” -”Of course! This is for only you!” Lyney chuckled, happy that you like his present. -”Thank you! This trick was amazing too!” -”Hm? And what’s going on here?” Came Heizou looking with smirk at you both. “Oh what a pretty necklace! It suits you (Y/n)!” You got a bit shy after his compliment but with a big smile you thanked him.

Meanwhile at the shore, Kazuha got out of the water. He noticed that Albedo was standing there with his paint equipment and was working on some painting. Curious, he approached the blonde boy. Albedo noticed him immediately but didn’t stop at his work, he wanted to finish it before the imagine in his head would leave. When Kazuha saw what he was working on he couldn’t help but be in awe. It was a painting of you being underwater, surrounded by some creatures. You looked like some goddess. The lighting, the brushes, everything was just amazing. This gave Kazuha another idea for a poem. -”She truly is our muse isn’t she?” Kazuha smiled, still looking at the painting. Albedo didn’t respond, he only smiled and nodded. After that Kazuha went to sit on the rock that was nearby to write the poem down, hoping that when you two will be alone he will recite them for you.   

You came out of the water, curious where Albedo and Kazuha are. Meanwhile Heizou and Lyney have some competition underwater. You looked around and then saw that Albedo was standing a bit far away, painting something. For now you decide to see what he is working on later. Kazuha was sitting on the rock, with a relaxed expression looking at the scenery in front of him. When your both eyes met, he smiled and patted the place beside him, inviting you to sit with him. -“You seem to be in a very good mood, don't you?” you smiled, sitting by Kazuha’s site. The white haired boy closed his eyes.  -“Of course, the weather and scenery are so lovely, the breeze feels nice on the skin and the most important thing is that I can enjoy all of it with you by my side.” He opened his eyes and gave you such a soft look. You felt your face get warmer. -“Ah! Um… I’m glad that I can enjoy this trip with you all too!” you coughed in your hand. Kazuha founds you adorable when you started waving your hand in front of your face to make it cooler. He knows that his comment made you feel this way, but he wonders what you really think about it. Did your heart skip a beat? Or maybe you think he’s just being very friendly. He noticed that sometimes you don’t get it when someone is trying to flirt with you and sometimes you get so bashful by simple compliments from friends. He could sit and wonder about your true feelings, but right now is not the moment for that. Right now he just wants to enjoy this short alone time with you he was given. You were still waving your hand, so he decided to help you cool down with his Anemo power. The breeze that just came made you feel better. -“Mmm how nice~” The boy beside you smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the ‘music’ of the world with you.

After some time you noticed that Albedo finished painting so you decided to check it. -”May I see what you were working on?” You smiled, approaching the Alchemist. -”Of course, I was planning to show it to you anyway… I only hope you won’t mind that you were my model for this one.” He gently smiled. -”I already said that I won’t mind being your model so draw me whenever you are inspired! I love your drawings-” finally taking a look you were shocked. It was so beautiful.  -”… Is it really me?” you whispered still in awe. -”Hm? Yes. Is it not to your liking?” he asked, from his face you couldn’t tell, but he was worried deep down if you like it or not. -”N-no! I mean! I like it-…no! I love it!! It is beautiful! It’s just-…. I don’t think I’m that pretty like you drew me here…” you have mixed feelings looking at it. Albedo looked at you, deep in thought. -”…But what if I say you are? After all, here I drew as I see you. For me you look like this.” After hearing it your heart skipped a bit. Hearing that you’re beautiful from the most beautiful person in Teyvat made you feel warm. -”T-thank you.” you whispered, not looking at him. The boy smiled. Albedo loves looking at your expressions, you just look so adorable to him. Normally he doesn't have time to paint while adventuring with you and your other friends, so he was happy he found time today to capture your beauty. -”Would you like to take this one?” he asked. -”May I?” You looked at him, excited. -”Of course.” -”Then thank you!! I will find a good place for it in the Teapot!” You smiled brightly. Then you noticed Lyney and Heizou emerging from the water. -”(Y/n)!” Lyney shouted running towards you. “Guess who won?” -”Hmm…” you decided to tease the boy in front of you. “Heizou?” Lyney gasped, placing his hand on his chest. Lost of words. You laughed at his reaction. -”I’m joking, I know you won! Here is your prize!” Lyney smiled, coming a bit closer. Hoping that the prize would be a kiss on the cheek. But what he didn’t expect was that you would take candy from your pocket, unwrap it and hold it close to his lips. -”Say ‘aah’.” Lyney blushed at that but did what you said. The candy felt even sweeter now. -”Mmm~ Thank you!” -”Oya? If I knew I would be fed by (Y/n) I would do my best to win!” Heizou came closer, putting arm around your shoulder. “Is there some prize for second place?” He smirked. You wondered for a bit. -”Well I don't have anything else so…” You started to pat his head “Good Job Heizou!”  Detective closed his eyes, enjoying your gentle touch.  -”It’s getting dark, are we coming back?” Kazuha asked, approaching your group. -”Ah yeah!! Let’s go back home!” 

Aether was sitting on the sofa, pouting. -”It’s been so long… maybe I should go search for her-” -”Paimon is sure they will come back soon!” The little girl flew over him with dango in her hand. “Would you like some?” she offered. The boy sighed, shaking head. Paimon shrugged at that and started to eat dango. Five more minutes passed and Aether abruptly stood up. -”I’m going to search for her!” He started to go towards the front door. -”Ah! Wait for Paimon!” The girl quickly finished her dango and flew after him. But before he could reach the doorknob, someone else opened the door. -”Hm? Aether? Are you going somewhere?” You asked, confused why he was standing by the door. Aether only hugged you and he mumbled. -”Why did it take so long? I was worried something happened…”  you smiled, hugging him back and patting his back. -”Sorry! But I’m home now!” -”Welcome back!!” Paimon said “Paimon made tea for everyone!” -”Thank you Paimon! Um… Aether, can we step inside? Others are waiting… ”  Aether didn’t let you go but you two moved deeper into the house to let other boys come in.  -”Oho! Someone was missing (Y/n) very much~” said Heizou laughing. Aether only gave him a small glare, still hugging you.   -”Ah I’m tired~ (Y/n) wanna later read those detective novels from fontaine?” -”Of course!” And with that Heizou went to the kitchen for his tea. -”If you don’t mind, after tea would you like to hear my poems?” Kazuha came closer to you. You turned from Aether but he was still holding onto you, placing his head on your shoulder, pouting again.  -”Oh yeah! I would love to!” Kazuha smiled and follow after Heizou to kitchen. -”I can’t wait to see where you will put the painting.” was the only thing albedo said, then went to get the tea and go back to his room. Lyney approached you and took your hand. -”There is still one trick I would show you! Let’s go!” and with that he took you away from Aether. The golden haired boy sighed and followed after you. He won’t let them spend some alone time with you any more today.

[clone-wars-retteyo-au]

One things I think I forgot to mention in my other reblog that I thought about more and want to comment on/clarify. As you mentioned, there is a likelihood that some clones will HATE the assumption that they are all close. I thought about this more, and I realized there was something I didn't think about/touch on in relationship to that. While my interpretation of the clones presents them as all considering each other family (both by blood and as an overall relationship), there are many different family dynamics and relationships.

Overall, the vibe between clones as a whole is "giant extended family where there is a general expectation/sense of loyalty to the broader family, but also you only know half these people." Loosely based on my dad's side of the family, tbh. But individuals within that family will have different relationships with different family members and different feelings about the broader family as a whole.

When it comes to clones they've never met, clones will typically see that clone as a sibling, but emotionally feel more like distant cousins who you just met at the family reunion and it's kind of awkward since your parents/grandparents expect you to hug or whatever and you're both just like "who is this guy?" Sometimes they will end up getting along great, but it will always start out a bit distant.

~~~

Clones like Cut Lawquane who left the GAR (or in this AU, never really joined Retteyo and went off to do their own thing) are like the family member who had to go no contact with their parents and as a result lost contact with the rest of their extended family and nobody but the parents knows what happened or where they went. So when clones like Rex find them, it's like one of their cousins accidentally finding them on Facebook and messaging them. And the one that left doesn't hate most of their extended family. They still see them as family, but not particularly close family, so they still kind of want to keep their distance.

They also have an awkward relationship with family in general because they were raised in an environment where family is everything. And even though they don't regret going NC, they still have a hard time breaking that mindset and feel at least a little bit of obligation to help out extended family members in need, even if it's just in little ways like giving them a little extra money one time and then never talking to them again.

~~~

Clones who hate each other are just family members who hate each other. They see each other as siblings, but not in a good way. Like "oh yeah, he's definitely my brother, but I'm still getting that restraining order." Still family, but in a bad way. And while there is a "family is everything mindset," that doesn't mean "therefore you must get along with every family member or stay in contact." If someone does something crappy and someone else chooses to go NC, everyone will understand and support the decision even if they stay in contact with both.

~~~

The "family is everything" part is more about a loyalty to clones as a whole. Similar to loyalty to one's country, but with a familial twist. As I said before, it's like seeing a cousin in need of help, and even though you don't know that cousin, you still help them because they're your cousin.

Even clones who don't feel that strongly about other clones will have this mindset a little, they just aren't super intense about it. Like, as I said, they won't get into a fight on your behalf, but they will give you $50 to help you out of a tough spot.

It's honestly the craziest part to me. They are all family, but the dynamics are complicated and not always close or good.

~~~

As you mentioned, they are still capable of forming extremely close bonds with natborns, some of which are closer than with certain other clones or clones as a whole. Some clones even prefer not being around other clones as much. It's just that they were created to almost need other clones in some way. Kind of like how ants will die if they don't have other ants around. I think this might not fully apply to all clones, but as you said with Rex and the Ghost crew, most clones will get antsy after a certain point if they haven't seen other clones after a certain amount of time.

For many clones, not being without other clones is like being a hermit. Some can handle it really well, especially by forming bonds with Natborns (similar to some hermits finding inner peace that allows them to handle isolation well). But most will get to a point where they will start to lose it a little. Like, they are fine for a while, but after 6 years or so, they're like "alright but I need to see another clone at some point or I will die."

At least, this is the case in my AU since I find the idea of clone basically being pack animals in the most extreme way to be interesting.

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[juaneloriginal]

silly thingy

@blackkatdraws's sillies

[warriorfujoshi]

please see my vision

bonus: Heathcliff smile collection