#which unfortunately means that these things might take longer than you anticipate

[shalom-iamcominghome]

hey, shalom! so i'm looking to convert and i sent an email to a local shul explaining that i'm interested in converting and that i'd like to start attending services (their website asks that you send them an email beforehand if you're gonna be attending and haven't before) but they haven't gotten back to me yet. it's only been a few days but i'm now worried they're not gonna get back to me and idk don't like me based off my email (silly i know). how much time do you think has to have passed before i should assume the email has gotten lost and i need to send a follow up email or call them? i don't want to pester them obviously and of course i understand they might be busy. i was assuming 2-3 weeks? i think i'm mostly looking for reassurance that they will get back to me in time and i have no reason to worry about it

I definitely empathize with you; I think what helps is remembering that many shuls are either small enough that it's only one person operating the domain, or they're cautious and it isn't about you, but moreso about ensuring the safety of the community.

I sent an email to the shul I go to, and it took a bit for them to get back to me. As it turns out, only one person operates the domain and is incredibly busy all the time with improving the shul, the cemetery, and organizing. I ended up getting a call from him personally where I discussed a bit of my background, which I think can be very helpful.

Because of how close shabbos is right now (I'm reading this on a friday afternoon), it might also be a conflict. You may not have sent the email anywhere near shabbos, but l-rd knows how hard it is to read email every day (one of my toxic traits, and I know it permeates a good chunk of the jewish community 😭). I'm so psyched for you, and I'm sure you're full of nerves, but it'll work out! I'd say that you are correct; sending a follow-up email after a few weeks could be a good reminder, but just know that it can sometimes just be a matter of time. I hope you hear back soon🩵🩵

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch9 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

❥ Word Count: ~7K

❥ Warnings: non-con, handjobs (btwn stsg), deepthroating (btwn stsg), strap-ons/pegging (w/ gojo), gojo being the submissive brat boy we all know he is.

❥ Summary: Double the trouble, or double the fun? Difficult to say when you're unfortunately roped into the affairs of two powerful shamans who can't leave each other alone, either.

Stepping into these pampering sessions after another monotonous day has come to be one of your few reprieves in a situation like this. Geto finds any and all ways to try to sway you to his direction, so he dials everything up to 100 during these sessions. This time he’s hired some of his devotees who runs a spa nearby to treat you to some facials, full body shaves or scrubs, or massages. He’s happy and content to be on the sidelines just observing you. It might be over the top, but that’’s something he has in common with Gojo: he’ll do everything and anything to get you to favor him.

And for Geto, it doesn’t stop here.

While the nail techs from the spa work on your manicure—they’re in the middle of buffing your nails after removing your cuticles—you glance up as Geto approaches you. You’re relaxing on a lounge chair, adorned in a fancier silk robe Geto bought you a couple of weeks ago. It’s a deep burgundy with gold lining on the rims of your sleeves. Geto tells you when he gives it to you that you look something more akin to royalty in it. It’s an appropriate compliment to him, all things considered. But you don’t feel like royalty. Not even a tiny, little bit.

“Enjoying yourself?” Geto asks as he brushes his fingers across your forehead with a little smile on his lips. You shut your eyes again, taking a deep breath. It’s a nice break from everything, yes. You know it’s because he’s trying to get something from you. Whatever it is, you don’t really care about at the moment. Now two more nail techs are working on scraping off the callouses off of your feet.

You nod, adjusting yourself a bit in your spot. “Mm-mhm. Thank you, Suguru.”

His smile brightens his entire face. Something you have to admit, you have never seen before. Lately it’s like he’s been carrying some heavy burden on his shoulders that you haven’t pieced together yourself. Satoru’s visits have become next to none lately, and you know it’s because of whatever obligations he has outside of this. Geto has expected it, the longer absences, and that’s precisely why you’re here. At least at the beginning, now it seems like you have taken on a larger role than both of them initially anticipated.

But maybe Gojo’s absence is affecting him more than he lets on. But on the bright side, he hasn’t been initiating anything intimate between you both. He seems more concerned in making sure you really are comfortable here.

“Of course, my love. Anything for you.”

You bite back a knowing sigh. You know the game by now. He does something over the top like this and it means he wants something more from you. You don’t know what that is just yet, but you don’t have to worry or speculate about something you already know is going to happen. You just let yourself enjoy the moment.

“Relax your hands,” one of the nail techs instructs while patting the hand she’s working on. You try. You can’t really relax in his presence but you sure damn try.

Geto pulls up a chair and settles down next to you. He rests his chin in his hand, smiling at you. You try not to pay attention, focusing on the way the nail techs are so gentle and slow with their treatments. The heels of your feet are probably already much smoother than they were previously—the exercise routines Geto’s forced you on has worn you out in more ways than one and has done a number on your skin health—and you can’t remember the last time you actually took care of your body like this. Not beyond the basic stuff.

Being someone’s pretty pet often left you no time for such things; apparently, you have a more important matter which is making sure your captor is thoroughly satisfied with you.

The pampering does feel so short-lived. After they’re done, your finger and toe nails are painted a nice matte black color, the gel shining brightly every time it reflected some light. They take the time to comb and snip off the breakage from your hair and provide all kinds of intensive hair care treatments, and you have never felt better (you know, all things considered). You wonder why Geto keeps going above and beyond like this. It’s like you said before, it can’t mean anything good for you at all.

After your evening pampering session, Geto escorts you back to the bedroom. He watches as you settle onto the bed, fingers running through your smooth hair after the keratin treatment the spa techs provided for you. Your hair feels great. So bouncy. So shiny. So soft. You’re practically beaming while swinging your legs against the bed and your entire expression brightens. It’s probably the first time in a long time you felt something other than utter dread and boredom.

Suddenly, his voice breaks your silent rejoicing.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers, lowering his head.

You freeze. Suddenly all of that little sliver of joy evaporates into thin air as you glance up at Geto, timid. Frightened. As if this can’t get any worse for you?!

“I… what?” You blink. He’s admitted to you before that he’s gotten some kind of affection for you, yes, but… in love with you? That sounds downright wacky considering his whole spiel.

“I meant to tell you sooner,” he goes on as he moves to disrobe. “But I figure there’s never going to be a good time. I’m in love with you. You’ve…made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I know you probably still aren’t happy here, and I can’t expect that you ever would be. That’s fine with me. You know what your job is here.”

“You want a functional family for the twins,” you tell him, looking away as he settles in bed next to you, his weight dipping the mattress.

He rests his hand on your shoulder, dragging out a sigh.

“Your cooperation is enough,” he insists, kissing your temple. You’re surprised you don’t flinch this time. “But I’d like to make this a real thing. One of these days.”

“What do you mean?” you find yourself asking out loud. You fear what he means. You know exactly what he means, yet you want to hear him say it. He smiles again, but it’s a little more solemn this time. Likely because he’s anticipated an unhappy reaction because of course, what else is he going to expect from you at all?

“Marriage, of course,” he answers with a little purr, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. His hand trails down to your neck, where you still wear that gold chain on your neck like a dog collar. He owns you—entirely and completely, as much as you loathe to admit it. It’s already been a year and a half. Your spirit has begun to wear down. You have come close to accepting your fate. The same monotonous routine. Again and again. Being forced into a role you never wanted to play. Pretending like you actually care about the twins, which, truthfully, there’s a little part of you that does but a part of you resents them. Resents them for bringing this man into your life. Resents them for being the ones to suggest any of this at all.

Yet, a part of you can’t wholly fault them, either. They have been caught up in all of this mess. While they understand the kind of man Geto is…

No.

You have every right to be as resentful toward the girls as you are toward Geto and Gojo.

The tears dropping to your palms catch you by surprise.

And you’re sniffling. Loudly.

“Haven’t you done enough?” you whimper, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you can’t fight it anymore. You can’t hold back the sheer resentment and hatred. Your body trembles, your vision blurring as more tears stream down your cheeks. So much for acceptance, huh? “Or does finding other ways to make me loathe you more get your dick hard?”

Geto’s eyebrows raise at that, and you’re shocked that it’s not anger you see in his eyes but pain. Exhaustion. “Mamma…”

“Don’t call me that,” you sneer through a sob, shooting him a glare with a fury you have kept buried in you for so long you’re impressed you’re still managing an even tone. “I don’t understand why you don’t just off me like any other non-sorcerer. I’d just be one less monkey for the world, wouldn’t I?”

“That’s not true,” he replies, his expression crestfallen. “You’re damn worthy of everything I have to offer you. You know I don’t say things like that freely. You have the girls to thank for that. They helped me see how worthy you are.”

To hell with the girls, you so dearly wish to say but that’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross with Geto unless you really are asking for something.

“Do what you must to me,” you finally reply, “No matter what you do—punish me, whatever the hell it is you choose to—it won’t change anything. Ever. I loathe you. I loathe you and I loathe Satoru.”

“Mamma,” he murmurs, inching closer to you and resting a hand on the small of your back—but the way he touches you feels less like a warning and more like he’s attempting to console you instead and you can’t decide which is worse in that moment. Like what he does to you, what he has done to you, and what he will continue to do to you means nothing and that all you’re doing is overreacting. He rubs soothing circles into your back, and you bite the inside of your cheek. You can’t believe the audacity of this man.

“I won’t punish you,” he starts in an authoritative tone, much like he uses with the twins. “There’s no point to that anymore. Besides, it’s proved ineffective in the past if my goal is to make you feel like you’re part of our family.”

“I will never be a part of the family,” you shout, but the sob that comes out of your mouth makes you feel pathetic. More tears streaming down your face uncontrollably and you’re surprised how much comes out. How long have you been holding it? How has it taken you this long to release it?

Instead of scolding you, or being the condescending prick he usually is, his hands reach up to cup your face, brushing away the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes. He leans in and presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, frowning as he allows you to finally fucking crash out on him like you’ve wanted but you know this is ultimately going to solve nothing. He’s selfish; he won’t set you free. You’re everything he wants (apparently), and the girls adore you. Satoru adores you.

But it feels damning. It feels like a sentence worse than eternity in Hell. Every time you have tried to attempt at hurting yourself, something forbids you. You don’t know what it is, but you know Geto and the girls must have done something. With whatever they’re capable of doing as sorcerers. You can’t kill yourself. You can’t harm yourself. Every time you try you fail and due to forces you can’t see yourself.

“I still don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he whispers to you, and you break down into more sobs. You’re more than afraid of him. You loathe him—doesn’t he fucking see that?

“There’s nothing you can do to change that now,” you reply in a snippy tone. “Like I said, Suguru, do what you must. It won’t change my feelings. Nothing you do ever will. It must suck for you, huh? Living with someone who can’t even stand to look at you let alone breathe the same air as you, and it’s from a part of a subspecies you hate. Must really piss you off.”

“Not quite,” he answers flippantly, his expression hardening. “But I am disappointed. All I want is to be let in your world, Mamma, because I’ve already let you in mine. And there’s no way out for you now. I’m going to help you make the best of it.”

“Burn in Hell,” you quip, scrunching your nose before swatting his hands away from your face. He looks at you with wide eyes before he fully retracts his hands.

“I’m sorry, Mamma. I’m not letting you get off that easily,” he says, “But fine. Get some rest. Perhaps you’ll be all calmed down in the morning and we can have a civil discussion about our future together.”

“But if it eases some of your pain, Satoru doesn’t have to come near you like that anymore,” he decides, hoping that would gauge a more favorable reaction out of you. It does. A little bit. “I know you haven’t been fond of that as of late.”

“Fine,” you reply, folding your arms over your chest with a stubborn little pout for good measure. “Keep your fucking promise about that and then we’ll see.”

Jackpot. Don’t you dare give anything away. Don’t smirk or smile, nothing. That gets you out of something, at the very least. No more punishments. No more Satoru. That just means you have much more wiggle room.

Men really can be easy, can’t they?

Geto treats you to another date at a park. Unaccompanied by the girls this time around (otherwise it won’t be a date, he jokes)—likely in an effort to see how well you’re going to receive spending the rest of your life with him in a nightmare as hellish as this. It doesn’t matter what he does. It doesn’t matter what he changes. You aren’t in love with him. Not even a little bit. Not even a hint of Stockholm Syndrome because that’s just not who the fuck you are. You refuse to allow your resolve to crumble like paper; you’re made of fucking titanium and the fact that you’ve gone on this long without crashing out is a fucking miracle.

His hand is tightly wrapped around yours, and you can’t help but marvel at how much larger he is all around compared to you. His hand makes yours feel puny in his like a child’s, and he stands tall like a majestic Greek statue replica of a God. You can admire someone’s objective beauty without being attracted to them, and Geto’s the definition of an ethereal beauty. You have noticed the stares. He’s popular in the area; everyone knows about that wacky cult leader who performs exorcisms at his temple for those who believe they have been by spirits. Little do they know their suspicions are correct and they aren’t the crazy ones, but to the general public, it obviously sounds fucking insane.

But the more you pick up on curse spirits, the more you realize how much of humanity has been the cause of their own suffering. You have overheard Gojo and Geto discuss how spirits are born from negative human emotions, and when you think about the history of all of the supernatural folklore you’ve consumed in your youth, you can’t say you’re surprised. Most monsters are human, or human-born, and Geto is an example of that fact: born from normal humans but became a monster due to negative human experiences. Gojo on the other hand is seemingly attempting to take a more noble approach but there’s nothing about that guy that screams ‘noble.’ He’s as wicked and vile as Geto, but perhaps in more specific settings.

You glance at your surroundings. It’s a clear sky. You hear various species’ of birds chirping and while in the early mornings it grinds your gears at this moment it feels tranquil and peaceful. Even if you are with an absolute psychopath keeping close to you like a shadow. Everyone’s out enjoying their simple lives; you even catch a few happy, carefree couples like the day Geto spirited you away from the bakery. Something tugs at your heartstrings at the sight.

Even if you do get out of his hands, are you ever going to have a normal life? Are you ever going to find a peaceful, safe love, like these couples seem to? They seem like they’re glowing and perhaps that’s in part due to the glow of the sun’s rays bathing their skin. It all seems so unfair that your chances at anything normal might be done for the count. All because you have caught the eye of two greedy sorcerers who think they rule the damn universe.

They may as well be, if what they say is true: that they’re the strongest of the strong. Nothing can stop them. The only people who can stop each other, is well, each other. And neither of them want to destroy the other for the sake of stupid sorcerer vs human politics.

Geto calls your name, and you don’t realize you stopped in the middle of the stone bridge.

“Did you want to stay and enjoy the view here?” Geto inquires with a hum, shifting to wrap his arms around your stomach. You rest your hands over the rail and look out, smiling a little as you can see little schools of fishes in the small pond below. You sigh in delight as a refreshing gust of wind rushes past you both; the ends of Geto’s mane tickling your neck a little.

“I guess I had been lost in thought,” you admit shyly, not protesting as Geto pulls you in closer until your the back of your head rested against his chest. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, looking ahead to the distance with you. “Is it true, that only Gojo can kill you if it ever came down to it?”

“That is a matter that doesn’t concern you,” he mumbles, “But it is getting more complicated for him to see us.”

“Do you miss him?” you ask, rolling your eyes upward.

“Of course I do,” he says, lowering his voice a little. “But I have you here now. I’m not all that lonely anymore.”

Even if I can never love you back? Because the difference between Gojo and I is that he loves you, you think to yourself, biting back a groan in annoyance as Geto tightens his grip around your waist, fiddling with the hem of your pants absently like he wants to avoid this subject. Maybe Gojo’s absence really is affecting him.

“You know, maybe you should go after him,” you offer, “He might need to be the one to be chased, sometimes, you know?”

What the hell are you doing?

Not even you know.

But you don’’t think you’re crossing a line if you’re trying to console Geto in this case, and it’s all between you and him, right? You’re trying to push them in the right direction. Whatever the hell that means for them. As long as it gets them to shove you all the way out because you still don’t fully understand your purpose or your role.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he mutters after a period of reflection. “I think I’ll try that this time. I expect you to be on your best behavior if I’m gone for a while.”

“I don’t think you can expect anything less.” You can’t go anywhere. Not yet, anyway. But you’re going to find a way out of there.

You prefer without the ‘die trying’ part. You want to have some life left in you when you finally escape.

“I’m growing bored,” Geto announces while tugging you along across the bridge. “Come on. Let’s stroll around for a bit longer and then we can grab dinner anywhere around Takeshita Street.”

With a reluctant pout you allow him to tow you in wherever direction.

“Mom!” Mimiko calls out to you while approaching you with a little skip to her step. After the park date, Geto excuses himself to follow through on your suggestion under the guise of some matters he has to handle outside his business. He comes up with some elaborate yet believable lie, but now you’re left to cater to the twins in his absence while Miguel and some of his other nameless goons keep an eye on you.

You greet her with the most plastic smile you can.

“What is it, love?”

“How was your date with Mr. Geto?” she asks eagerly. Then Nanako steps in, shoving past her.

“Yeah! Did he get all romantic and everything?” she asks while clasping her hands together.

“Are you falling in love with Mr. Geto, Mom?”

“Girls, girls!” You sound like a kindergarten teacher calming a group of rowdy children as you raise your hands up in surrender. “Geto has been wonderful, no doubt.” What a fucking lie. “But everything is going to take some time to develop.”

“But you are staying, right?” Mimiko asks with hopeful eyes.

No.

“Of course,” you reply in a more robotic tone that they don’t point out much to your relief.

The girls beam at each other before turning to you again.

“We just want you to be happy too, Mom!” Nanako says, “And we don’t want you to be sad!”

Such fucking lies.

You can feel Miguel observing the scene unfold from the sidelines, his arms folded over his large, chiseled torso and you can’t make out his expression. He tends to maintain a neutral facade perhaps to protect himself.

As Nanako and Mimiko talk amongst themselves, you retire to sit on one of the couches. The thuds of heavy footfalls approach you, and you glance up to meet Miguel’s unreadable face.

“Hello,” you greet, your lips a bit pursed.

“So, got room to breathe did ya?”

You shrug. “Whatever that means for Geto, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, and you quirk an eyebrow…for what? You have a feeling for what, they don’t think you belong here. Not for the reasons you at first suspect which is they all share disdain toward non-sorcerers. But because he pities your situation much like Suda does.

“Don’t have to be,” you reply, offering a small smile.

Miguel takes out your hand and rests a tiny, folded slip of paper onto your palm.

“I’ll escort you to your room now.”

“Thank you,” you respond, clenching your fist with the paper in it.

When he does, he speaks up again just outside the bedroom door.

“Your insignia,” he gestures to the pendant on the gold chain around your neck. “I added a little something extra for your sake.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head as your eyebrows knit together.

You unfold the paper and reveal the message.

It’s some kind of incantation along with instructions.

“Memorize it now. I have to burn the evidence,” Miguel instructs you. You nod, ingraining it all to your memory the best that you can. “While Satoru Gojo might be a little more difficult to escape, you’ll have no problem getting out of Gsto’s radar.”

Your brain short circuits for a moment.

…Hold the fucking phone.

“You know?” you gasp.

“Yeah,” he almost snickers, “Everyone and their mother here does. Those guys really think they have everyone fooled but no one is that dumb.”

“Apparently so,” you reply with a snort.

“Hang in there. I love Geto like a brother, but these matters aren’t your concern. You’ve just been dragged in for some unfortunate reason,” he goes on, adjusting his collar with a little grunt. “And I don’t know. I guess I just can’t let myself live with that. Neither can Miss Suda. Just remember, it’s between us.”

Miguel swipes the paper back and burns it to a crisp with a flick of his fingers. Your eyes widen. That is just like when Geto killed those innocent victims.

“Thank you,” you tell him, “So why did you choose to work for him?”

He shrugs as he brushes past you.

“I guess I just get where he’s coming from,” he answers, “He’s not all wacky, you know?”

“I very much disagree,” you counter with a frown.

Miguel laughs heartedly at that. “Can’t blame you one bit, Miss …. We’re not here claiming to be right or good, you know? We’re sorcerers, not saints. No matter which side we fight on.”

You bite your bottom lip.

“What more can you tell me about this world?”

It doesn’t look like Geto will return for a bit. Might as well take advantage of his absence while he fights for whatever it is he believes in between he and Gojo.

Miguel finally fills you in on some details Geto conveniently leaves you in the dark about.

It is in the dead of night when your sleep is interrupted by some rustling beside you. Geto curls an arm around you and kisses into your shoulder.

“Miss me?” he whispers with a little chuckle. Yeah. Sure, sure whatever he wants to believe, you fucking guess.

You hold your tongue, always knowing better than to speak your real truth—not unless you want things to go south for you all over again and you can’t afford another failure.

You scrunch your nose, adjusting yourself a little in your side of the bed, the mattress squeaking a bit as you move. “Mmhm-mm. How did things go with Satoru?”

“Wonderful,” he breathes, you can hear his smile, you don’t have to go searching for it in the blackness of the room. “Thanks to you and your brilliance, Mamma. Thank you.”

“Good,” you reply through a loud yawn, once again shifting in your spot and trying to get comfortable. “Get some sleep, darling. I’m glad I could do something for you.”

Laying it on so fucking thick.

“Satoru is coming by tomorrow,” he tells you, and you make a sound before you could stop yourself.

Fear shoots through your veins like an injection.

“But—!”

“—worry not,” he interjects, stealing another kiss on the corner of your lips, and then your jaw. “I won’t let him touch you. Not unless you’re okay with it. I’m a man of my word, Mamma.”

You find that very hard to believe.

“Okay,” you whimper, not protesting as he pulls you in close, practically spooning you and your breath hitches when his pelvis grinds into your ass.

“Suguru, darling,” you whisper, hiding your face into your pillow. You know a tear has slipped from your cheek. A real one. You’re so tired, and not just from the day. “Rest.”

“Okay,” he replies, nuzzling his nose into your neck, keeping you caged around his body.

You feel like you might suffocate in his hold but you just remind yourself that it might very well be almost over. Miguel is there. Suda is there.

You’re going to be okay.

Needless to say, Gojo doesn’t take well to the change in the arrangement. You can’t remember the last time Gojo came for a visit so naturally he’s going to be furious at the idea of not getting his end of the deal. He ultimately won’t deny anything Geto tells him to, you have taken notice to that very early on.

Geto lets him down easy, but even then—

“—What the fuck do you mean I can’t do anything today?”

“She’s not feeling it,” Geto retorts, casting a judging glare at Gojo. “Simple as that.”

Gojo casts a curious glance at you, fuming like a petulant toddler.

“Can we still snuggle, Princess? I swear I’ll keep my hands in modest places,” he begs, stepping toward you.

You’re sprawled on the couch, and dragging out a defeated sigh, you gesture for him to come with a wave of both of your hands. Gojo beams and squeals in glee like a child who just hit the jackpot at an arcade and swoops into your arms, burying his face between your breasts.

“Missed you,” he mumbles into your clothes with a pleased sigh, rubbing his face harder between your busty mounds. “Fuck, I’m in Heaven.”

So much for keeping his hands in modest places… they never truly follow through ok their word and you have come to accept that. It doesn’t mean it still doesn’t fucking piss you the fuck off.

You sneak a curious glance at Geto, who doesn’t seem pleased by Gojo in that moment. Oh so maybe he does actually want to show you a little grace for once? What a fucking refreshing change of pace!

Yet you doubt it’s going to last. Geto can only hang on for so long. His resolve crumbles so easily.

“Don’t touch, Satoru,” Suguru chides. This time his tone sounds a little different, like he’s playing a different tune. You sense a little note of jealousy. You aren’t sure if your ears are fooling you. Yes, Suguru believes he’s in love with you, but these feelings for you can’t possibly be real. “I expect you to follow orders.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gojo waves him off. His eyes roll up with a little sparkle to them. It’s here where you realize just how snow white his lashes are up close. It’s such a beautiful contrast, and such beauty is wasted on a man as pathetic as him.

Suguru joins the two of you on the couch, casting a sideways glance at Satoru burying his head between your boobs. You can catch that little flash of green from envy, like he fears Satoru may take advantage of you.

Why does he care so much all of a sudden? You feel your head winding like a spinning top—what the hell has changed all of a sudden? Nothing adds up. You’re adding two plus two and somehow coming out with five.

Then you remember what Geto brought up before. Realization dawns on you and your stomach sinks like the goddamn Titanic.

Is he serious about marrying you should things go to shit between he and Satoru because of that war?

When Miguel filled you in on the details you knew so little about, it still doesn’t make much sense to you, and nobody honestly expects you to understand anything. It’s a whole new world for you. Try as you truly might and even you have to accept the fact that indeed, this is not something you are meant to understand and maybe you just don’t have to. All the more reason why you have no reason to be here, in a world where nothing makes sense and you’re caught in a loop of being their favorite pet to torture.

“So what the hell are we doing then? If I can’t touch, Suguru?” he asks with a little indignant huff, snaking his arms around your waist and clinging tight. “Not sexually, I mean.”

As if this isn’t that, either?

“I’m still here, Satoru,” Suguru answers with a little smolder that makes you want to vomit. Satoru’s head snaps up and he grins wide.

“Of course I can’t say no to that!” Gojo says gleefully, his eyes practically lighting up at the prospect.

You wish you can breathe out in relief but you know that might raise questions. And you have no mood to be interrogated by the most infuriating duo. But Satoru settles onto Suguru’s lap instead, peppering slobbery kisses all over his face. Suguru cast a curious glance at you, hoping to see some kind of positive reaction that you won’t give him the satisfaction of giving because no one should be rewarded for basic decency. You turn away, hugging your knees to your chest.

As long as neither of them have to touch you today. Then you’re fine with whatever happens.

You just don’t want to be touched, for once.

“There was never us ruling out that she could be in charge of you today, Satoru,” you hear Suguru suggest and this time you twist your head over your shoulder, your mouth agape as you assess his expression for any catch to the idea.

“If it means I can feel her, then that’s a fantastic idea,” Satoru purrs with a wraggling of his eyebrows.

You definitely feel some bile threatening to spew out of your mouth. Fucking sickis. Fucking psychopaths. Fucking…dinguses! Morons! Nightmares! FUCKERS! YOU HATE FHEM WITH EVERYTHING IN YOUR HEART!

But you have to admit, Suguru’s idea does pique your interest a little.

“What am I allowed to do, Suguru?” you inquire with that same innocent tone, hoping your voice isn’t betraying you.

Suguru locks his arms around Satoru’s hips, humming in thought.

“Well, Satoru does have this little fantasy of getting pegged while he sucks me off…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Are you okay with that, Suguru?” you ask in a syrupy sweet tone as you inch toward him, brushing your lips against his ear in a tantalizing, delicious way. You see his breath hitch in his throat and you can’t help yourself, your lips twitching upward in a smirk. “I’m happy to do that, if it makes you happy, Suguru.”

“I’m only happy if you’re comfortable doing so. But Satoru doesn’t get to touch you. That’s the rule now,” he whispers seductively, stealing a kiss on your lips. His hands sneak up Satoru’s thighs and Satoru gasps, instinctively spreading himself against Suguru’s lap.

Suguru cups Satoru’s cock roughly through his slacks and Satoru inhales through his nose sharply, inching toward the touch.

“Satoru, relax,” he chuckles, slipping his lover’s cock out and cuffing his tip roughly with one of his hands as the other pumps his shaft. “I barely even started.”

You snake an arm around Geto’s neck, scooting closer. He flashes you a little smirk.

“Can’t—haaa—help it, missed you,” he whimpers while his hands fly up to Geto’s chest, pinching his nipples through his robe.

“Undress me, my love,” he instructs you and you nod, sliding off the robe and he adjusts himself to make the process a bit easier. Gojo whines again, latching his lips onto one of Geto’s pecs and lavishing it with his tongue while Geto continues to fondle his cock. It’s already strained and stiff and leaking and Gojo is squirming in his spot, rendered utterly helpless at the slightest touch.

“Suguru?” you beckon for further instruction, trailing your fingers down one of his arms. He lets out a dreamy little sound, pleased by your touch, by your cooperation more so.

“Just follow my lead, my love.” He’s been calling you that more than ‘little dove,’ which is an improvement but not ideal to say the very least about the shift. “He can’t touch you, but you can touch him. Do you understand?”

So, there’s the catch. Of fucking course it’s never that fucking easy.

You nod. His mischievous smile widens.

“Good. Go to the storage unit and pick your poison. Grab the lube and choose a large one to peg him with. He needs something my size or bigger to satisfy that slutty hole of his.”

He emphasizes that statement with a firm fisting of his shaft and Gojo squirms in his hold again, whining.

“Suguru…! Haaa…! Please! Want Princess to fuck me!”

“Patience,” he chides with a sharp swat on one of Satoru’s thighs, making him keen and arch his back into Geto’s body.

“Want her to fuck my brains out,” he babbles on as you gather the strap-on, lube, and eyeballing the sizes. You choose one of the far girthier ones. You furrow your brows as you adjust the strap on and return with the bottle of lube in hand. While you have gathered the items Suguru has yanked Satoru’s pants off and adjusted him so it was just him on the couch. He keeps his legs spread wide and you hand the bottle of lube to Geto.

“I can take care of the prep and I’ll talk you through it, my love. You haven’t done any of this before?”

You shake your head. Of course you haven’t. This is all foreign territory to you but the idea you can control what happens to a certain degree in this is kind of appetizing and you shouldn’t feel that way because you know it’s all part of some grander scheme up Geto’s sleeve. He wants you to want him. He wants you to return his feelings no matter what he tells you otherwise. He is trying to appeal to you.

Don’t fall for it, you remind yourself. Don’t fucking fall for it. It’s all a fucking game.

Suguru grabs Gojo’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks, and guides him to his cock. Gojo opens up without protest, groaning in delight and arousal the moment Geto’s cock fully settles in his mouth. Slobber dribbles messily down Gojo’s chin as he bobs his head back and forth on his lover’s huge, hard cock. Moaning and groaning like it’s an honor to please him.

All the while Geto’s dextrous, slicked up fingers work him open with his other hand still pumping Gojo’s shaft.

You’re awestruck at the sight in the worst way, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. Just like they go at it like rabid animals with you, they go at it like rabid, insatiable animals with each other. Geto maintains a stellar pokerface while making Gojo deepthroat him and you’re certain you’re appalled yet you can’t deny the arousal pooling in your groin. 

You’re sick of your own perfectly natural physiological reactions. Maybe you’re getting off to the fact that you can actually take something back. The lewd squelching noises and the slicht! Slicht! Slitch! from Geto fisting Gojo’s cock is overstimulating and Gojo shouts when he splatters his own seed all across his abdomen and torso. Geto just laughs with vigor as Gojo pants from the high, muffled through Geto’s cock constantly hitting the back of his throat mercilessly.

Geto’s piercing violet gaze fixes on you as he curls his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion, and you cautiously approach him. He grasps the toy you chose that you attached to the strap on and lines it up to Gojo’s stretched entrance. He coos little sweet nothings to you as he assists you in sinking it inside, making Gojo thrash about but Geto commands him to hold fucking still.

“Just thrust your hips like that, my love. There you go, find a rhythm that works for you and makes him feel good,” he talks you through it like he promises, purring as he grabs a fistful of Gojo’s hair and controls the pace in which he fucks his mouth while you fuck into Gojo’s ass.

“Swallow me, Satoru,” Geto grunts a command and Gojo moans as he does as he’s told. He yanks Gojo’s mouth off of his dick and Gojo parts with kissing the tip of it before his voice breaks into more broken moans as you pick up a kind of moderate pace once you get the hang of it. Geto continues to coach you and guide you, admiring the view of the ridged girthy toy disappearing into Gojo’s hole.

“Fuuuuck, Princess, you’re such a fucking natural. Don’t stop!” Gojo babbles as a line of drool dribbles down his chin. Geto chuckles, remaining behind you and rubbing your shoulders as beads of sweat drops from your forehead and slides across one of your brows. Gojo’s praises and Geto’s words of encouragement do make you feel a type of way. You feel a sense of empowerment you haven’t felt in a long time. Watching Gojo grip the edge of the cushion he’s seated on trying to maintain some semblance of composure but he’s writhing and keening and all because of you and it’s riveting. Truly riveting and you can’t believe it.

“Ah—fuck—gonna—haaaaa—come, Princess! Fuck!” He shouts as Geto instructs you to watch his hole clench around the toy and his pathetic cock twitch as more seed splatters on his stomach again.

“You did so well, my love,” Geto gushes as he helps you pull out the toy and yanks it off of you. Gojo’s panting heavily, whimpering again.

“Don’t want to stop,” he begs, pouting, “Please please please let her fuck me again!”

Geto eyeballs you and you shake your head. While you kind of do, that took a lot out of you.

“Go easy on her, Satoru,” he purrs, “That was her first time doing something like that. And isn’t she a natural?”

His hand rests on the small of your back. You ignore the shot of cold crawling up and down your spine. You can’t show you still fear him yet you do. You do fear him and that’s exactly what he’s trying so hard not to make you feel around him.

But you mean what you said before—nothing’s ever going to change. Not for as long as your heart is still beating life into your body, are you ever going to feel anything other than fear and resentment for either he and Satoru. These men are a plague to you—parasites that have made a home out of tormenting you under the guise of affection.

“Want moooorrree, Suguru…” he drawls, sticking his tongue past his lips while clawing his hands at the air. “So good.”

“Looks like you broke him,” Geto murmurs in an amused tone into your ear, expecting a little giggle out of you at least but all you do is glance up at him with bewildered eyes. His expression falters. Of course you don’t fall for the schemes he pulls. “I got it from here. You rest now. You did so good.”

He presses a tender kiss to the bridge of your nose, and then your lips. When he pulls away, he has a soft look on his face. In another world it might have knocked the wind out of your lungs in the best way.

But this is not that world, you remind yourself. This world is still your personal Hell.

[cartoonrival]

HEY YOU Hit me with some Julie Su propoganda cuz I'm mostly lukewarm on her character and don't know all that much about her.

OK OK ... well baseline info she's the daughter of dark legion general luger, and half sister of lien-da and kragok, who are twins and both high ranking legion soldiers. when their mother (merin-da) died and luger remarried, ld and kragok hated his new wife (julie-su's mother) (mari-su) so bad they orchestrated her death, info which was they kept on the DL for a long time until js eventually found out about it. memory situation, js is raised by other folks who actually love her and doesn't learn who her blood family is until later. she joins knuckles because she feels inexplicably drawn to him (soul touch) (echidna soulmates) so she defects from the legion to join the chaotix. the soul touch thing sucks and i hate it but this is how it goes. ill talk about my au version of her at the end lol bc things ive built on top of canon are part of the reason why shes one of my fave charas in the series lul

ANYWHO i honestly find it pretty frustrating when people talk about js as just being pink knuckles, shoehorned into the story to give knuckles an obligatory girlfriend, because it really demonstrates that they like. weren't paying a lick of attention to anything because she genuinely has a LOT of personality but since people just go in anticipating anything penders touched to suck they don't even bother to think about her for longer than half a second.

js fills a niche that, imo, could always use filling, especially with regards to girl characters, which is to say shes a well meaning asshole. shes incredibly blunt, she's pessimistic (immediately assumes knuckles must be dead when enerjak returns and they cant find him, tells knuckles not to search a fallen ship that his mother was on because shes probably dead and she doesnt think he'd want to see that). shes terrible at handling interpersonal conflict (knuckles confesses to her that he feels guilty and stressed over all the pressure put on him as guardian and she scolds him and says "this isn't just about you", which results in a minor shouting match when she really had zero intention of starting an argument), she's almost constantly beefing with vector (tbf its because hes sexist he refuses to see past her history as a member of the dark legion). these might suond like cons but i love characters like this LOL and they fit especially well in archie where people love to get mad at each other and make dumb mistakes and it just feels very genuine and interesting and endearing to me. shes rough and difficult but she's also DEEPLY loyal. she'd die for knuckles and the chaotix and the way she interacts with them always makes me soooo ........ im just gonna give some examples i can find.

(knuckles is on the phone with her)

^ this was the genuine conclusion of an argument they had and im obsessed with it because both of them suck with emotions so they both give the worlds strangest apology and know that the other means it and they move on. plus putting her arm in front of SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG while theyre confronting eggman even after watching him CHAOS BLAST, primarily because she feels like this is more her fight than his (its about knuckles).

theres def more and i could find them if i was more on top of archie but unfortunately im #narutopilled rn. BUT ANYWAYS. shes just a very fun character with a messy personality and fun interactions and she loves her buddies sm even tho she bickers with them. shes just very special. she fits well with knuckles in a way that makes their relationship actually feel plausible instead of just forcing him to have a girlfriend (tho ofc the writing is fumbled sometimes like. ITS ARCHIE. bffr. but thats the case with literally everything ever in archie so you take what you can and its amazing). also see below. BASED AS FUCKKKKKKK

and ill discuss my au briefly bc u r asking me my opinion on js and that does play a large role in how i feel abt her, but rly im just expanding on elements of her story that werent discussed as fully as i wouldve liked. her relationship with lien-da is obviously BAD in canon, but theres not a lot of time spent lingering on precisely how lien-da and kragok feel about julie-su as the product of their fathers second marriage to a woman they KILLED because they hated her so much. ive also given her much more internal strife over turning away from the legion, originally joining the chaotix planning to betray them from the inside then being slowly convinced to join them for real after realizing how much she'd been brainwashed by the legion and what its like to have people who truly love and care about you. her story as someone who is trying to find herself outside of her history as a child soldier is something that TOTALLY deserves to be expanded on and its a bit sad that it wasnt explored. but i mean really im not changing her actual PERSONALITY at all because as i discussed shes oozing with it.... im honestly never going to make the full comic i wanted to so at some point im just going to compile all the lore and concept art and stuff into one big post to share. but thats like a spoiler free taste.

she also has a gun. which is fucking awesome because not enough sonic characters have guns. people make shadow the guy with a gun but he hasnt been seen with one since shth. hello....

[yergink]

Ficlet prompts!

Any off screen moment from s1, where ed is down bad and stede is adorable. Bonus if the crew are like 👀

Modern meet cute at a dog park

Innkeeper era - talking about Stede's kids, or any Stepdad Ed

I have read so many "Mary learns that Ed is Blackbeard" and I would read another, if that sounds fun!

HI THANKS SO MUCH!! I'm a sucker for dad Stede moments, so I had to go with talking about his kids <3

(also this got. longer than i anticipated. whoops.)

Ed always knows when a storm’s coming on by the pinch of his knee. And he knows when Stede’s got something serious on the mind by the—much sweeter—pinch of his brow.

He’s been wearing that look since breakfast and been distant all morning. Floaty, sort of. And quiet.

The question sits fully formed on Ed’s tongue, but he holds it back. Prying Stede for his feelings requires a certain degree of tact, and Ed isn’t history’s greatest tactician for nothing.

Unfortunately, love is often the opposite of tact. It’s blind and stupid and reckless.

They’re sharing an afternoon snack of shortbread cookies—just a little overdone, which neither of them mind too much—when that faraway look crosses Stede’s face again, and Ed simply can’t help himself any longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Stede startles, like he hadn’t at all expected the question.

“Hm?” he answers. There are shortbread crumbs stuck on the corner of his mouth. Ed reaches out to thumb them away.

“You seem distracted,” he says. “Something up?”

A moment passes where Ed thinks he’s gotten the timing wrong. He was too abrupt, and now Stede is going to give him one of his too-strained smiles and insist that he’s fine, and Ed’s not gonna be able to work up the courage to ask him again.

His heart leaps into his throat. Ed swallows around it.

Stede, for his part, doesn’t play that song-and-dance. Instead, he sighs. His wistful gaze turns to the window, and his eyes turn chestnut-light where the sunstream catches them.

“It’s Alma’s birthday today,” he says.

Ed stares at him blankly.

“My daughter.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Shit,” Stede agrees.

“…So, are you, um. Feeling some kinda way about it?” Ed asks him tentatively.

Stede shrugs a sort of shrug that means "yes, absolutely, but I don't want to admit it," and for Ed, that won't do.

He reaches for Stede's hand, the cookies abandoned for the moment. “Do you wanna try to figure it out together?”

Stede’s fingers latch into Ed’s tight before he jerks his head in a nod.

"Okay." Ed takes a long inhale, pleased to see Stede follow his example. "What do you feel?"

"Mm. A sort of—" Stede lifts his free hand and gestures in a circle to his chest. "A… hollowness. Like a hole. But it's heavy, too. A heavy hole."

"...What's that, a riddle or something? What thing is empty but still weighs a ton?"

"Could be." Stede's frown turns thoughtful. "I think the answer would be a lead bucket."

"That's fuckin’ brilliant."

“Doesn’t make much sense though, does it? Feeling like a lead bucket?”

Ed doesn’t think so. He’s had the same feeling, a hollow weight that ached through his chest and down in his belly.

“I think maybe you miss your kid,” Ed tells him. “That’s all.”

“…I do miss them,” Stede says quietly. “Both of them. And I know that they’re being well taken care of, and that I left on good terms, but…” he trails off.

“You don't talk about them much.”

“The topic’s never been relevant.”

“Oh, shut up, man. If it’s bothering you, it’s relevant. They’re your kids. Little itty-bitty Stedes running around. You think I don’t wanna hear about them?”

“…You didn’t want to hear about Mary.”

“Okay, but you see how that’s different, yeah?”

“And honestly, neither of them are much like me at all.” He lowers his voice. “Actually, now that I think about it, I suspect Louis wasn't even mine to begin with.”

Ed hums. “You know you are allowed to talk about them, if you want.”

“…I might. Want. Just a little.”

A quiet moment passes. Stede’s gaze flicks from the window to Ed’s face, and Ed raises his eyebrows at him meaningfully.

"Louis is a sweet boy, I think,” Stede says, looking back towards the window. "He doesn't pull the legs off flies, and he doesn't throw rocks at the other children. He's...Gosh, he must be six years old, now.

Ed's not an expert, but other than the bit about his age, those seem like odd things to notice about your kid.

“And Alma is…” Stede starts. “Well, she’s very independent, for one. And she’s—brave. Braver than I ever was at her age. Er, that’ll be twelve, today. She’s always speaking what’s on her mind, whether it’s a polite sentiment or not.”

He smiles at some private memory. “She’d get in trouble with the nursemaid often, with that feisty tongue of hers.”

“She sounds a lot like you.”

Stede laughs. “Silly man. Come on.”

“I'm serious. Feisty? Bit of a menace?”

“Oh, well…”

“All things I love about you,” Ed promises, with a kiss for good measure.

Stede kisses him back, of course, and they get lost in it for a moment, arms wrapping around each other, eyes closed, together.

Stede's stay shut for a beat longer than Ed’s, and when he opens them again, his face is a little sad.

“It's no wonder she was always testing Mary’s nerves so badly,” he says with a little huff that might've been a laugh if it hadn't been so damn sad.

Ed’s heart thumps hard in sympathy. He reaches to cup a palm gingerly over Stede’s cheek, swiping his thumb over into the soft hair at Stede's temple. “Hey. If you're thinking of them today, I bet they're thinking about you."

“D'you really?" Stede asks in a small voice, audibly uncertain in a way he so seldom is.

It's Ed's cue to be certain, then, to be firm and sure in this moment when Stede cannot muster himself to be.

"I know," he says. "I was missing you when you were gone, too."

"Oh, Ed—”

“So,” Ed continues, "if you can't be there, maybe you can send them a letter? Though might be best to skip the bottle this time.”

He tries not to linger on Stede’s dewy eyes, doesn’t want to bring attention to how delicate he seems right then, but he also can’t help but notice the telling glint that crosses his gaze.

“You just had an idea, did you?”

“I won’t do it if you say no,” Stede says slowly, “ But…how would you feel if I asked all of them to come stay a few days?”

Ed shifts. Unconsciously, his grip on Stede’s hand tightens a smidge in anxiety. “That, um. I dunno. Won't it be weird? Having your ex-wife in the same house as…”

“As my lovely boyfriend?” Stede fills in for him, and Ed imagines his heart trilling like a songbird. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing Stede call him that.

“Yeah.”

“It probably will be a bit weird,” Stede admits. “And I won't push if the idea makes you uncomfortable. But I think—” he pauses.

"I want to get to know them better,” he says firmly. “And I—I'd like them to get to know you, too. To see how happy you make me.”

Oh. Stede wants his kids to see him happy—to know he's happy. And to see that that happiness is because of Ed. That Ed’s the one who makes him happy.

It’s like all the light in the world goes softer, then. Sweeter.

Ed murmurs, “I think I like that idea, too,” before kissing him again, all the while thinking happy, happy happy.

[khaire-traveler]

So I was the person who asked about apollo and aphrodite and I love your answer. I actually don't think they fit for me. Maybe I should give it some time, but with what you said, I have a few more questions (I'm very slow in understanding stuff, apologies) 1. So, what you're saying is, if the candle doesn't go off, I should worship them? I asked them many times, to be sure. 2, if it doesn't work with those deities, do I remove their candle and throw it in the bin or not? Bc like I'm scared they'll curse me if I do that. 3, how am I gonna find the deity that works for me? 4. Also what are the things you said, I know tarot, but that other thing? I'm also not interested in witchcraft. Besides this, I wanna thank you for everything you do, you should take it a bit slower tho, I've been checking up on you, like I said I would and I'm a bit worried. Also I'm putting the "I've been checking up on you" to let you know who I am. (Your inbox is probably full of messages from me so I apologize for that too)

Hey, Nonny!

That's perfectly fine! I wish the best for you in your journey. Also, there's no need to apologize for not understanding something. There are no stupid questions! In regards to your further questions, here are my answers:

1. No, that's not exactly what I was trying to say. You absolutely do not ever have to worship a deity, even if the deity reaches out to you first. The point I was trying to make is that sometimes pyromancy can be difficult, and especially if you're a beginner, we can make mistakes with interpretation. I was also trying to say that pyromancy not going the way you anticipated doesn't mean that a deity doesn't like or doesn't want to be involved with you. If the candle doesn't go off or out, it's likely not because a deity isn't or is interested. Most of the time, I find that asking deities to do that kind of stuff ("that stuff" being the unlikely or impossible) with candles doesn't result in them doing it. While deities are powerful, I've noticed that they don't typically do things that wouldn't make sense or actively go against science/logic (such as putting a candle out spontaneously; a candle will continue to burn until it runs out of fuel or oxygen, or it blown out manually). I hope this clarifies things, but I'm sorry if it didn't. You're more than welcome to ask more questions.

2. To start, deities don't typically curse people. They aren't as spiteful as modern media or even ancient myths would lead you to believe. In my experience, deities are quite compassionate and understanding. They don't seem to enjoy punishing people, especially not for mistakes or simple disposal/removal of items. Now, to answer your actual question, you don't have to throw the candles out if you don't want to. My suggestion is to light the candles again, and let Apollo and Aphrodite know that the candles will no longer be dedicated to them, as you don't feel a connection to them at this time and would like to use the candles for other things. If you want to be polite, you can offer them both a glass of water while telling them this; the water offering is a way of saying, "I know I'm taking this other thing away from you, so here is this offering to show that I have no ill intent by doing so." After that, you can simply use the candles however you wish to. c:

3. Unfortunately, I can't provide you with an answer to that question. I simply don't know and can't predict those things for you. It can take some time to find a deity you connect with. I suggest starting by looking at the things that have the most influence in your life. For example, do you enjoy connecting with nature? Do you love animals and the environment? Are you maybe a hunter or forager? If so, you might find you have a connection to Artemis! Try looking at the things you enjoy the most, and see which deities have a domain over those things. You never know, a deity could've been trying to get your attention without you realizing!

4. The things I said refer to the practice of "divination". Divination is not witchcraft; it is used as a form of communication with deities, spirits, and entities as well as a way to predict one's fate or learn more about oneself. Things such as cartomancy (the use of playing cards) and carromancy (the use of candle wax) can be used for the same purpose as tarot cards. It's the same as the way you use pyromancy which is also a form of divination.

Absolutely no worries about sending me questions! I enjoy answering people's questions and potentially providing some ideas, direction, or suggestions for people. I know that when I was a beginner, or just had questions I couldn't answer, I would've appreciated some help myself, so I try to provide advice for others if I can. I don't know everything, but I do my best!

I appreciate your concern. I'm doing alright, though; just having a hard time due to offline things in my life. Posting about things can sometimes help me take my mind off my worries (though I have other methods of coping as well). I appreciate the support. 🧡🫂

I wish you the best on your journey, and I hope you're able to find a deity you connect well with soon. Take care, and have a good day/night! 🧡

[semper-legens]

166. The School for Good Mothers, by Jessamine Chan

Owned: No, library Page count: 319 My summary: Frida made a mistake. She left her child alone for two hours, and now she cannot see her child again. Not unless she completes the programme. Isolated in a college campus, left to look after a strangely lifelike robot referred to as a 'doll', she must learn to be a good mother. Or her life will fall apart even more than it already has... My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

I don't particularly know why I picked this book up. It's certainly not the kind of thing I usually read - a contemporary look at motherhood and what it means to have a child with the premise of a slightly-in-the-future training school for 'bad' mothers - but I am so glad that I read it. There's a lot going on in this book; it's a really interesting dissection of the idea of motherhood, the impossible standards placed on women and placed on mothers, the American ideal of motherhood and how that can be oppressive and hamper the agency of mothers who don't fit the mould, particularly mothers who aren't straight and white. It's a disturbing, well-written field guide to the complex notion of parenthood, and it's definitely worth checking out.

Frida is a bad mother. She left her daughter alone in the house for two hours - she's a single mother, sleep-deprived, and ran out for an errand which ended up taking longer than anticipated. For that, she is denied access to her daughter, and eventually enrolled in the school, a one-year long programme meant to reform bad parents and teach them how to properly raise their children. She's exhausted, stressed, anxious, and trying her best to be the kind of mother that the school really wants. Unfortunately, the deck is already stacked against her. I liked that Frida was both conforming and rebellious - she wants to do whatever it takes to get her daughter back, and sometimes that means submitting to the fascist power structure that seeks to run her life, and sometimes it means working against it. She's trying to make the best of a really complicated situation, balance her needs against the selflessness that's being looked for in the mothers, and keep it together as much as she can so she has a hope of seeing her daughter again. It's an admirable position, and you really can't help but root for her given all that is working against her.

Race is a huge factor in this novel. Frida is Chinese-American, while her ex is a white man. Many of the mothers she's at the school with are Black or Latina, and she notes that the white mothers are often treated better than the non-white mothers by the staff and curriculum. Black and Latina mothers are more likely to get assigned punishment duty scrubbing bathrooms, for example. Frida is the only Asian mother, and occupies a weird no-man's-land - not white enough to be with the white mothers, but seen as being 'better' by the establishment than the Black and Latina mothers, although she's not given a high enough position to be grouped with the white mothers. On days where they are meant to be teaching their kids about racialised violence, the white parents' dolls are railroaded into hurling slurs and racist abuse at the non-white dolls, which is obviously very triggering and traumatic for the mothers, but the people who run the school don't seem to care. Lines, too, are drawn between the kind of parent and upbringing the school wants the mothers to be, and the parents and upbringing the non-white might have had within their culture. Frida notes that her family is a lot more withdrawn than the family the instructors want them to model. Disparaging comments are made to Frida, making assumptions about her life and family because she is Chinese. Even where Frida's family do fit stereotypes around Chinese families, it's still not okay to look down on Frida and assume things about her just based on her ethnicity.

And then there's how the school defines motherhood. The perfect mother is white, middle class, and American. She is selfless, giving, and patient. She never raises her voice, and certainly would never hit a child. She never complains. Her child is the most important - indeed, only important - thing in her life. Her child takes precedence over all else. The various crimes the mothers committed to get sent here are not always proportionate; Frida had one moment of arguable neglect, versus a mother who kept her kids in a hole, versus the mother who lost her kids for checking herself into a psychiatric institution. The tests are near-impossible to pass - not only do the dolls act just like real kids, meaning they're unpredictable and offputting, but every scenario seems rigged against the mothers. Yeah, let's see you focus on your fake kid when you're being shown images of your real kid happily living their life without you. Mothers are also treated differently to fathers - the fathers don't have the quasi-therapy punishment of 'talk circle', never get their right to contact their real kids taken away, and aren't under the same level of scrutiny as the mothers. It really just highlights the extremely narrow and unrealistic expectations of what a mother 'should' be, and it's incredibly effective at executing that. A very worthwhile read, check it out if you get the chance!

Next, fish are walking out of the sea.

[pastelbatfandoms]

Seeing Red (Au)

~Why do I have to go and break what I love so much? It's on your face and I'm to blame, I need to say hey it's all me in my head, I'm the one that burned this down,but it's not what I meant...~ AfterGlow-Taylor Swift

Part 1

Warnings: Smut, Dub Con (maybe triggering for some)

Part 3 Fatal Attraction

Renee Sits on the bed, test in hand. Wow...She was really pregnant. She was happy but nervous what did this mean for the timeline? Could they raise a child in this chaos they called normal?

Eobard stares at her with a bright smile as she sits up and looks at the test. In his mind, he didn't really anticipate her becoming pregnant. It was a welcome surprise for sure, though he can't help but feel nervous. This was a lot to take in and fast. The timeline and what impact that might have was something he didn't want to think about right now. At the very least,nothing would make him happier than raising a baby with Renee.

It's a lot to think about but he doesn't care. The fact that they are going to be parents is what matters most right now. Everything else can wait.

This is a lot to take in for Renee but she relaxes against Eobard letting him hold her for now. He smiles down at her,pulling her as close as he possibly can, tightly against his body,kissing her forehead. "it's a lot I know. But this is a good thing right?" Renee gives him a reassuring smile. "Yeah...of course it is."

Eobard gives a soft laugh, "It'll be fine...We just need to take it day by day. What matters the most is that this is happening to us now so we can figure out how to handle it hear and now. We have each other and we'll always be together. So don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"We'll keep them safe." Renee answers, then realizing what she said looked at Eobard in surprise.

Eobard stares at her confused for a moment then a smiles as soon as he realizes what she said. "Did you say 'keep THEM safe..' He gives a playful gasp, "You're not thinking of twins are you?"

Renee looks down a bit shy, "It was just a feeling...Maybe that's why I saw two children..."

Eobard gives Renee another playful chuckle, the smile never leaving his face. "Oh you and your feelings. We could be in for alot if you have that feeling again. What do your feelings or intuition tell you? Two boys,two girls? One of each?"

"Both. A boy and girl." Renee gave him a genuine smile at that, kissing him.

Eobard smiles more at her response. He leans into her kiss, kissing her deeply. He's always loved her kisses, loved her touch and they way they could express themselves. Which is what had gotten them into this trouble in the first place...but he would never take it back. As they kiss, his hands hold her face,rubbing it gently. But some point he can no longer help himself and pulls her in more. Wanting to feel that passion.

The kiss deepens as he pulls her closer. As their heartbeats faster, their breath shallow. The passion between them growing, the finally break the kiss. But as they stare at one another, they both are completely lost in the heat, never wanting to let each other go.

After their passionate love making, they fall asleep expecting a peaceful nights rest, with pleasant dreams not nightmares but unfortunately it doesn't go that way. Eobard thought he was past this of having the same nightmare over and over. Of them fighting Savitar in the future and Savitar killing Obsidian Storm, stabbing her and then throwing her onto the subway train tracks while Reverse Flash was helpless to stop it, always too slow, he needed to go faster...

Eobard wakes from the terrible nightmare and his eyes snap open, breathing heavy. He glances over at his side, hoping that the vision before him is real and the nightmare isn't. Seeing that Renee is right next to him, her body snuggled up to his. Eobard sighs and lays back down next to her, his breathing slowing as the nightmare fades away.

Renee feels Eobard start awake and looks over at him, a hand to his face, "Did you have a nightmare too?"

Eobard sighs as he sees her look over at him. Her hand a soothing comfort as he turns to look at her. "Yeah...I had another nightmare."

"So did I..." Renee admits, "I think mine was more of a warning or maybe a subconscious fear. Was yours that future again?"

Eobard sighs, a hand to head trying to shake of the remnants of the nightmare, " Yeah it was. I saw you or Obsidian Storm dead. I wanted to move faster,to get to you in time but I was too slow. Always too slow..."

Renee holds him to her, "I know you had those nightmares every night but the future is already changing, maybe this can too."

Eobard buries his face in her shoulder as she holds him against her. He hopes that her words are true, that the future is already changing and that this nightmare of losing her is just that. A horrible nightmare.

"I love you Eobard," She whispers, "I always will."

Eobard squeezes her hands at those words. Renee always knew what to say to soothe him. He doesn't want to think about what he saw, at least not tonight. He was always to anxious about the future but now all he wants to do is hold her. She was always his source of peace, her touch his ultimate comfort. He was always afraid of losing her now but now what mattered was that she was here, that he was with her. She was safe and she was his.

Eobard holds onto her tightly as they lay together. Their bodies connected, peaceful, tired but at ease. Time stood still as they lay wrapped in each others arms. Their was true, their soul one. Eobard was one with her and his destiny was by her side. All the stress and tension gone now, nothing remaining but their love. Renee was his future,she was his everything and she was right here. Time stood still,yet they had forever.

Eobard never wanted this moment to end,never wanting to let go of her. It was like he was in a trance. His breathing slow and gentle, he was completely one with her now, as if their souls were entwined.

Renee wanted to stay that way forever. Being held by Eobard, in his arms nothing but the feel of him, no worries, no hiding, no stress from the outside world. But she knew eventually they had to wake up and deal with the outside world...

Renee's eyes slowly opened as she let out a small sound, cuddling into Eobard. " Eo...Shouldn't we get up. Don't we have work?" Renee mumbled into his chest

Eobard sighed,smiling to himself. So she was awake. "We should, but can we just enjoy this moment for a but longer? I don't want it to end." Eobard smiled, looking into Renee's eyes.

"Alright..." Not like you had to convince her twice..

Eobard ran the tips of his fingers along Renee's cheek. She was adorable, her skin so soft. He loved her and never wanted to stop. The outside world could wait a moment longer.

Renee looked up at him her eyes brimming with love. Like that day dreamy look when you first fall in love and can't stop smiling.

Eobard pressed his lips to hers, kissing her. His hands gently pulled her in. "I love you Renee."

"I love you too Eobard." She replied as she kissed him again. They couldn't get enough each other. The kiss was addicting. Nothing else mattered,just them in this moment. Their bodies pressed together, his hands ran along her caressing her back. Eobard held her like he would never let go. Her warm soft body wrapped around him, her breath filled his lungs as if she was his oxygen. It made him smile, made his heart beat faster. Their souls were one. This was true love, true passion. Eobard pulled her closer, not wanting to break the moment they were creating.

Renee grinned, "Well maybe they can wait another hour..."

There was no language her body could find to describe the feeling Renee was experiencing. Her hands caressing his body, wanting to feel every inch of him. Her mouth moved on it's own, every word of his name slipping out. Her legs shaking at his touch as he reached lower. He was in control, she was letting him have complete control. She trusted him completely.

As Eobard explored every inch of her body and she responded in every way he wanted. His touch was sending shivers down her spine, her legs quivering as she surrendered to him. He was in complete control, she was letting him. So he continued never letting up as his grip tightened and his touches became more aggressive. That trust and surrender was about to be tested. As something in him seemed to lose control.

Trigger Warnings: Dub Con.

At first it was amazing but the more Eobard continued the more sensitive Renee became. Until she was begging him to stop, but the feeling was growing more intense and he didn't even acknowledge her pleas, he only kept going. The pressure from his fingers were becoming too strong. She could feel herself nearing her peak, soon she may not be able to handle it anymore, it felt like it had been hours. But her resistance was useless, it only turned him on more.

Renee was near her limit now. Her body begged to stop, but his grip didn't loosen. The sensation was growing uncontrollable. Renee was begging Eobard to let go but he only squeezed harder. She would be beyond her limit soon. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, he was going to continue until she exploded.

Renee was getting a bit scared now. This wasn't fun anymore. If he loved her, he would let go. But she wasn't sure this was her Eobard anymore...what if...fuck,she couldn't think,couldn't do anything... Her mind was losing control and her body was shaking. The pressure kept increasing,she couldn't stop him from entering her.

This level of pain was not something she would wish upon anyone but she was helpless. It was like something was controlling her body, he was enjoying her agony. Her resistance was gone and her screams silent in her head.

The pressure was unbearable. Her body was trembling, each thrust of him was bringing her closer. Renee's cries were only in her head, her voice gone as tears rolled down her face. She was like a doll to him, he would squeeze her until she was broken.

Eobard's mouth is pressing deeply onto hers, forcing himself against her. The ecstasy overwhelming. Eobard can feel himself starting to lose any restraint, he is getting close to the edge now. Finally he gives in, letting the ecstasy take over as he grip's her thighs tightly. Finally Eobard can't hold back anymore, he finally lets go. As they scream from the ecstasy and collapse onto one another.

Renee was still moaning a little bit, her legs twitching. As Eobard pulls her into him. She seemed distant now, as he rubbed her thighs. Eobard looked at her not sure why she was so distant now. He could tell the ecstasy was gone but she was acting scared and distant now. He tries to get her attention,brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Renee flinches from his touch, still not looking at him. Eobard tries to call her name to get her attention. Finally she works up the nerve to look at him. "What?" Her eyes spark a bit but she doesn't have the even have the energy to bring Obsidian out.

Eobard keeps his voice gentle as he waits for her to say more. Renee's eyes seem glassy now and far away... "Eobard why did you...Did Reverse Flash come out?"

Eobard's face grows somber at her question, his smile disappears as he nods looking away. "Yes...he did. I couldn't control it, it was a moment of weakness. I am so sorry Renee, I tried to resist him..."

Renee starts to get up then not ready to accept an apology, "I need to get ready for work..."

Eobard sits up then grabbing her arm, his grip is gentle but his eyes serious. "No you've had a long night. It's the middle of the night, you should rest. At least let me call and tell them you won't be in tomorrow."

Renee pulls out of his grip, sitting up, "Fuck it's the middle of the night?! Eobard we were supposed to be at Star Labs hours ago!" She shouts.

"I know but there's no time for you to work tonight. You need to rest and recover, Let me just call your other job and tell them your not coming in."

"I mean it's your fucking fault we werent there, too busy..." Renee trails off no she wouldn't say that.

Eobards eyes widen at that and he realizes she is starting to come back a bit and get angry. That's good she should be mad at him. He's trying to keep his cool but he knows he should get the blame for this, and the fact she won't take his hug makes him worry. Eventually he lets her go and speaks up. "I'll call them and let them know you aren't coming. But you can't work right now because they also expect you at the lab anyway."

"Eobard the lab is my job remember?" Renee snaps, "Besides the paper and Iris will understand."

Eobard just stares at her, "Yes I remember but you're still missing work today and tomorrow understand?"

Renee answers hestantily, "I...I guess."

There's that hesitance again. She is showing some resistance here and Eobard can feel it. She wouldn't normally hesitate here but this was a different side of her. "You seem exhausted still. Lay down."

"I wonder why..." Renee bites back sarcastically. Honestly if she wasn't, Obsidian Storm would be out and he'd be half way across the room by now...no a fight would not be good for the babies. She places a hand on her stomach, hoping the babies were okay.

"Are you feeling okay besides being tired?" Eobard asks watching her.

Renee scoffs, "Now you care."

Eobard rubs his hands over his face, "I've been caring this whole time...I just messed up. I got carried away and now I fucked everything up."

Renee looks at him in disbelief, did he truly not get how she felt or why? "Eobard you...I just need some space right now."

Eobard notices her holding back tears and trying to keep it together. He's starting to feel worse now as the reality of the situation dawned on him. She's genuinely hurt. Eobard sighs as tries to pull her close.

Renee moves away from him, "Eobard I can't have you touching me right now can you please just go..."

Eobard nods and lets her go,feeling really upset. "I'm sorry..." He says quietly as he gets up slowly but doesn't leave.

The old Thawne would have zipped away by now. When he doesn't Renee turns around, laying down, trying not to cry. A part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Eobard looks at her for a few more moments, his anguished eyes glued on her. He decides to give one last effort to try and reach out to her before he leaves. "Can I say one last thing before I leave."

Renee nods. Eobard takes a shaky breath before saying, "I'm sorry...I let my lust get the better of me. I didn't mean to hurt you,and you deserve far better than that. Just...take all the time you need..." Eobard realizes then that he was far too selfish with her and she deserved more. He pauses before saying, "Please forgive me. I'll understand if you can't. But I need you to know that I am deeply sorry for what I did." Eobard wants to say more but he needs to let her go for now. He doesn't want to push her and further. So instead of extending the conversation, he pulls away from her and walks away.

Once Eobard leaves Renee finally lets her emotions free, all the hurt and fear rising to the service. Honestly she thought about leaving but she was pregnant with twins, Eobard Thawne's twins, where could she go? And maybe that had been his plan all along...she didn't want to think of him like that but as manipulating as he could be...Well Reverse Flash had gotten what he wanted. He wanted to break her, he had succeeded. Renee broke down then sobbing herself to sleep.

Eobard leaves the penthouse, walking outside. All his thoughts are still on what just happened in that house. He is trying to process everything he did, how he hurt her and how he needs to make it right. He doesn't even realize he's speeding deeper into the woods, so wrapped up in his own fears and guilt.

Eobard is so deeply wrapped up in this,in his guilt and fear that he is not even paying attention to were he is going. Eobard can't believe he had messed up this badly. The entire night he'd been struggling with himself,with his emotions and desires. He had given into his wants and he'd hurt the woman he loved. Everything just felt so fucked up, so broken, so lost. And now he actually was lost,deep in the woods.

Eobard can't help but feel frustrated because he just feels so lost right now. Both in his head and these damn woods. He was supposed to be so much more than this. In his head he had felt unstoppable, the only man immune to fear. Yet here he was now feeling all these emotions at once.

Eobard's anger starts to grow alongside his guilt and fear. The guilt is telling him that what he did was wrong, that he needs to make it up. Yet the anger is telling him that he has nothing to be sorry for. Both emotions are screaming at him and he is completely torn.

The two emotions are warring with each other,back and forth, he needs to be one or the other. Guilt or anger? He needs to pick an emotion and run with it. He needs to do something. Eobard stops his thoughts from running then. The two emotions are fighting and he needs to settle it. This entire night he has been on an emotional roller coaster one where his emotions can't be controlled. But now he needs to control them. So Eobard makes a decision, and follows his anger, it's stronger than the guilt now.

Eobard starts to get mad at himself and it shows. The guilt is still there but now he chooses to ignore it. He focuses on his anger, his voice coming out slightly shaky, "No, I'm not sorry."

Eobard screams his rage becoming dominant and he knows it, he allows it. Letting it consume him.

Renee is awoken by a sudden buzzing sensation all over her body. Her bond with Eobard. {Wake up.} She hears Storm hiss in her head, {Thawne's in trouble. From himself.} At first Renee doesn't seem to care, but that other part of her that still cares deeply for him, listened. "Where is he?" {The Woods} "Are you okay enough to come out?" Renee asks Storm. {Yes...I am sorry I wasn't there before.} Storm tells her guilty. "It's alright, we just need to find him now."

Eobard's bond with Renee hits him and wakes him from his rage. He can feel her emotions and he knows something is wrong. Eobard looks around the woods for a moment and thinks to himself. "I have done this to her." He is the reason why she's worried right now. A deep sense of guilt suddenly returns to him and the guilt now overpowers his rage. The rage immediately disappearing.

"Eobard? Are you out here?" Renee yells for him but no answer. "where is he?" She wonders, Storm alert just beneath the surface.

Eobard hears her yells and finally responds," Yes I'm right here!"

Renee sees him and runs over. Despite everything she still asks, "Are you okay?" She takes his hand, serious now. 'We need to talk."

Eobard smiles in relief at her and nods, "I know we do...I'm sorry for everything that happened earlier. I let my desires get the best of me,my lust for control and I should have been more considerate and aware. I'm sorry." He takes her hand and rubs it with his thumb, a nervous gesture on his part.

"Let's talk about it inside." Renee answers. Eobard nods and follows her inside. They go to the kitchen and Eobard just stares at her again,they are both still extremely emotional and neither really know where to start.

Renee lets out a shaky breath before she speaks, "Thawne what happened tonight was...it went too far. I know it wasn't you completely but you need to figure out a way to control or get rid of the negative speed force, that parasite. Or we're done. Yes I know it can hear me I don't care."

The words hit hard as Eobard listens to her. He nods, taking a breath before speaking, "I know...it was too much. I was not all in the right state of mind. And even with the negative speed force that's inside me, I don't want to make excuses. The fact is that I need to get this under control and not let it happen again. There's no excuse for what I did."

"I know I'm pregnant but I will not raise our kids in this...not after you made all those lofty promises..." Renee stops not being able to finish,she just feels like crying again.

Eobard sighs,starting to feel emotional himself, he feels horrible that he upset and hurt her so much. He nods and steps up to try and comfort her. "I know, I'll make it right. I'll make sure that it never happens again, I'm sorry for making empty promises. I want to make sure you and the kids feel loved and supported. That will never not be my main priority."

"How can you guarantee that?" Renee asks,crossing her arms as she looks at him, "I mean you say one thing and do another. I...I don't know if I can trust you."

Eobard is silent for a few moments before he finally speaks, "I...you're right...I have never been one to keep my promises. And I need to start. All I can ask you is to give me time to prove it. If I can keep that promise, then will you believe that I can change?"

"We'll see." Renee starts to tell him something else but Storm stops her. {No don't threaten them, they'll hear you.}

Eobard looks at her worried. He doesn't want to feel like she's now afraid of him. He wants to make her feel safe, so he continues. "Renee..I know I have given you many reasons not to trust me. But I don't want you to be scared of me. I need you to believe me."

Renee eyes him a bit cautious. " I don't know...your starting to become the Thawne I knew in the future, the one I hated, who killed this version of you. I know I said I'd stop telling you the future...but really what does it matter now?"

Eobard doesn't want to become someone she hates. He knows that was the fate he has seen in the future, but he wants something different now. He doesn't want to keep hurting her, he wants her to be safe with him.

Eobard doesn't say anything as he listens to her talk. He knows what she's seeing. Renee's mind is trying to tell her that he is becoming a cruel man again that kills her and takes their kids. He doesn't want that. That was never what he was meant to do, that wasn't supposed to be who Eobard was meant to become.

This wasn't supposed to happen...Renee finally had that version of him she had been searching for,for so long. She had been hopeful,happy for a moment. But she should have known that happiness wouldn't last, not while he still had the negative speed force inside him...

Eobard's emotions start shifting. He now feels alot more guilt and regret over the possible future. That wasn't what he was supposed to do and it isn't what he wants for them. He can't possibly go down such a dark path that he loses himself completely. He wants nothing but her happiness and their future together.

"All you care or care about at that time was your speed, nothing else mattered..." Renee told him, not sure how much of that future he remembered.

Eobard nodded, "Yeah...I did. I won't lie. I was obsessed. I was a monster. I just hope now that I didn't ruin everything we could have had.."

"I hope so too. Even though I feel like I shouldn't, I still love you." Eobard's heart speeds up as she says that. Renee still saying she loves him. That gives him hope for the future, hope that they can still have one together. She isn't ready to let him go yet, she still wants this to work and so does he.

"But I'm going to need time. This...just hurts too much." Renee tells him.

Eobard nods in understanding. At least there is still hope here, this isn't the end yet and he will give her all time she needs. Eobard gives her a small smile, one of cautious but positive hope. The future is still in their hands, he just needs to earn her trust back.

"Don't get your hopes up too much." Rene warns him seeing Eobard's hopeful look," I didn't say I forgive you." She looks away with a sigh, "I'm actually going to try and rest more. Talk to Storm, she's the only one I can talk too..."

Eobard doesn't say anything, knowing she's asking for space. He walks out of the kitchen and starts to head upstairs. Space is exactly what he wanted to hear, maybe after some time alone she'll start to come around. The important thing is that he still has a chance. Eobard walks into his room, pacing around thinking on all that did happen. He knows he made a big mistake, one he regrets. He also knows that he needs to wait on her to talk again. He's not going to rush not this time.

Meanwhile Renee lays in bed a million emotions and memories running through her at once. Nothing was going the way she had wanted...or had thought. She thought keeping them a secret would work like before, but the timeline was different now, she wanted to tell the team but she didn't want to betray Eobard...even after everything she still cared. So that meant she was alone again...no not completely she still had her other half, as Obsidian Storm held her while she cried.

Eobard hears her crying, all he wants to do is hold her but he needs to wait until she's ready. So distract himself he decides to go to his office. Working always calmed him down. He worked well into the morning until he was tired and finally fell asleep.

Once he awoke Eobard was more calm and determined as he got up and headed downstairs. Feeling more prepared now, he is ready now no matter what happens.

Eobard walked in seeing Renee sitting at the wooden dining table,coffee and a pen and paper in front of her. Dressed casual in jeans and an oversized white cardigan. She looks stressed but also calm like she had made a decision. She looks up when Eobard enters, "Perfect timing, I wrote something for you."

Eobard walks over to the table, sitting opposite Renee. He smiles softly as he looks at her. He is glad that she seems like she's looking better. "Hopefully it's an answer." She says handing him the letter as he reads it.

Dear Eobard,

I know lately things have been rocky at best for us. Sometimes I feel like I'm holding onto the future because it's all we have left.

But I realized running away is easy, giving into the darkness is easy. Staying and fighting for each other is the hard part. sometimes the only way out is through, the hardest lessons can bring the biggest rewards. I want that with you, I want our kids to grow up with parents who love each other and aren't scared. I love you. I have always loved you no matter what others have said.

I believe you can face the negative speed force in you and let it go,but to do that you have to believe it too and we can't hurt one another in the process, I know there's good in you I've seen it, I want you to see it too. It may take awhile but I do forgive you.

Eobard is stunned as he reads the letter. He is overwhelmed by her words, it's pure honesty. The message resonates with him as he feels the same about Renee. He really has always loved her, even if it bordered on obsession and he wants that to grow. Eobard looks up at her, holding back tears. But soon he can't keep them at bay anymore, he isn't afraid to show his full emotions now. He wants to prove to her he can be the man she needs him to be.

Renee notices Eobard holding back tears and whispers to him once again "It's okay to feel Eo..." His affectionate nickname for him,returning again.

Eobard smiles as he wipes away the tears now. As he whispers, "I know, I'm just...overwhelmed right now. I didn't expect this kind of response. I was expecting something completely different,honestly. But it's nice to read those words from you. I feel the same way."

Renee gives him a sad smile back, "I guess we're stuck together. I can't seem to let you go even when I try."

Eobard lets out a soft laugh, giving her a small smile. He really wants to hold her but aside from a hug he holds back, he knows it's not time yet. He'll wait on her.

As if reading his mind, Renee walks over sitting on his lap as she holds him. Eobard's heart skips a beat when Renee sits on his lap and holds him. She had always been able to sense these things. Eobard wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead. He couldn't believe she had forgiven him so soon. He is going to make things work this time, he needed her, he needed her more than air.

Holding onto Eobard, Renee remembers something he would tell her well in the near future now, after he gave up his dream of getting his speed back,his world. "You are my world." He had told her. She remembers this as tears fall from her eyes. "I love you Eobard." She whispers.

Eobard's heart skips a bit when he hears her say those words. The words he never thought he'd hear again, he thought he'd lost her for good this time. "I love you too." He answers the words met with such strong resolve and energy. Eobard was not letting this love go,not this time.

Eobard pulls Renee into a tight hug now. He buries his face in her neck, trying not to cry. Feeling the warmth of her, the smell of her. This was everything he could have ever wanted, stronger than any power he could have. They belong together, and no one else could hold a candle to this flame they both have for each other.

Renee holds him while they cry, the stress, anger, hurt and darkness of the past week, decades even finally subsiding. They may not be perfect but they were each others lightning rods. They could fuel each others strengths, as well as weaknesses.

Renee looks at him tentatively wanting to kiss him but not sure...Eobard notices her hesitation, noticing that she wants to kiss him...He leans in close to her, getting closer with each passing moment. Then decides in that moment to let go and give in. He doesn't want to waste another moment. The moment his lips touch hers the doubt is erased. The kiss is electrifying.

Renee melts into him then at the unspoken permission as their lips meet. Eobard wraps his arms around her, getting lost in the feeling once again, their chemistry still intoxicating as ever. Renee wants to give into the moment but she is still unsure. A voice inside her says, "In order for him to change you have to let him. You have to trust him,to trust yourself." At that Renee starts to let go more.

Eobard pulls back then looking at her, waiting for her reaction. "it's ok," Renee tells him," I need to trust you. Only way out is through right?"

Eobard's eyes shine at her acceptance. He wants to make sure he doesn't mess this up again and hearing those words gave him the reassurance he needs as he pulls her back into that perfect kiss again. Eobard could not thank her enough for giving him this other chance.

To be continued...

[existentiallyadrift]

Some thoughts in my head after today’s therapy session (trigger warning - child abuse):

“If people have a guilty conscience or reaction to something, that means they’re guilty of what the other person thinks they did.”

WRONG. At least in my experience. Hear me out.

At a base level gaslighting is when someone is made to feel like their reality of what happened to them is not accurate, and something else happened entirely than what they recollect, right? Perhaps what I’m about to describe is a form of that.

As a child, I experienced a fair amount of abuse. Most of it was mental/emotional abuse, which most days to me feels the most insidious. In most cases the physical abuse heals. The emotional abuse rarely does.

One specific form of mental abuse I experienced all throughout my childhood (and more so in my teenage years as I grew up and was no longer as easy to control through physical abuse), was to accuse me constantly of doing things I did not do. Primarily things with some perception of malicious intent behind them. Even innocuous things like a door or blinds being opened or closed, had some perceived malicious slight and intent in my mother’s mind and it was all an attempt by us children to “hurt” her. Because we were “bad and ungrateful children.” It was a barrage of paranoid accusations nearly every single day. This type of psychological warfare is literally what recruits in basic training are subjected to in order to evoke a state of anxiety and stress. It’s done to try and break people’s mental strength. Like full on adults. And unlike boot camp, for children there’s no specific end date in sight.

Conversely, if I did do something “wrong” like accidentally breaking something, my attempts at explanation were waved off with an air of ludicrousness. “You expect me to ACTUALLY believe…”

My entire childhood was this way. In conjunction with a very socially restrictive childhood that was mostly isolated, I literally grew up thinking the following was the normal operating state of people:

1. It doesn’t matter what you say or how honest you’re being, everyone thinks you’re lying and making things up. You constantly try to mitigate this by over explaining things and thinking about ways to convince the other person you’re actually being honest

2. People are all paranoid and will accuse you of things as a means of manipulation. While the first part of all people are paranoid is the initial observation that comes at a young age, it’s not until you’re older and in a different (dare I say normal) environment comes the second part or the realization that it’s a manipulation tactic.

As things happened I was trained to constantly mitigate toxic mental or physical abuse by constantly running through scenarios of all the possible ways my behavior or responses could be interpreted and habitually trying to do anything I could to head that off at the pass. And if left unchecked will definitely manifest in what could be construed as guilty behavior. Or I was constantly trying to anticipate all the things (no matter how unlikely) I might be accused of doing.

This is one of example of many of the mental abuses my brother and I were subjected to. I suspect my oldest brother also, but because he was so much older than me I can’t confirm. Is our experience the exception to the “guilty conscience” theory or the norm? By all the deities that may exist I hope it’s the exception. But who’s to say?

I guess what I’m really trying to say is treat people with kindness, and maybe they really are not guilty even though they’re acting odd. But it’s also ok to keep enough of your mental well being safe, just in case they aren’t. And I’m definitely not saying be a perpetual emotional open door for people; this is geared towards a first or second time of encountering this type of behavior.

Deprogramming years of this type of regular abuse takes a long time and happens in degrees. Unfortunately for some it may never happen. So be kind to one another. And most of all, be kind to yourself.

[kokiafans]

PSA: Updates on KOKIAfans part 2

Hello everyone, this is the KOKIAfans admin. This post is a bit personal, as I'm trying to fill you in on why this blog has only been sporadically updated for months now.

A while ago, I made a long post to apologize for my lack of timely translation updates. This was back in July, but you have probably noticed that I still haven't been translating entries and instead completely switched to summary posts for the time being.

I wish I could tell you that with the year 2023 coming to a close, I'll soon be back into business as usual. Unfortunately, that would be a promise I'm not sure I can keep. And so, I have no choice but to ask you for your continued patience with this current style of updates.

Below the link is a longer explanation if you're interested, but the above is the eventual conclusion. My apologies and thank you for your patience in advance!

To fill you in a bit more: I caught covid at the very start of 2023, and it didn't go away as quickly as I'd have hoped. I ended up pushing through it for too long, cumulating in things collapsing in on me over the summer (when I stopped posting full translations here). I'm thankfully doing better now than I was back then, but I still have a lot of trouble concentrating for a longer period of time. As you might have guessed, this heavily impedes my ability to translate blog entries. Typing this entry right after another summary post is honestly already quite taxing.

I really have to prioritize my own health and recovery, which means that for the time being, I will have to resort to summary posts as I've done thus far. I cannot promise when I will be able to translate full entries again, as unfortunately, the term 'long covid' really does live up to the name.

I'm doing my best to recover, and thankfully I'm on the path that's moving forward, even if the steps are smaller than I would like.

I won't bother you with all the details, but since it's taking so much longer than I had anticipated, I felt I should at least mention the cause.

I definitely don't want to give up on the KOKIAfans blog, but it will have to take the backseat for a bit longer. Hopefully the above will give you some insight in the cause, to reassure you that this is not a sign of me slowly giving up on this blog.

Thank you for your continuous patience and support, and I hope this blog is still providing you with the information you seek, even if it's in a different form for now.

[alpinefitco]

Planning Remote Wilderness Trips: Packrafting in Gates of the Arctic National Park

Each adventure is different, so it’s impossible to write a step-by-step guide but there are fundamentals that will help make your trip go smoothly. Much of this comes down to research. If you know the area, terrain, weather etc then find a way to get there and start planning your gear. I will use our packrafting trips to Gates of the Arctic as an example of the decision making process.

Where are you going?: Gates of the Arctic is very remote so begin by selecting a route that meets your comfort level without taking risks you can’t handle on your own. The Alatna river and John river both suit this well, they are class II rivers offering some excitement (but not too much for our skill level). The Alatna has some great side trips as well into the Arrigetch which we will need to pack for as well. Being remote and sparsely traveled considerations include packing enough food, backup stove, GPS communication, repair kits for the packrafts. It’s way out there, but not all trips are like that, more local trips or those well-traveled can sometimes count on shared resources when plans go awry.

Who are you going with?: Nobody likes to be uncomfortable. Challenged is okay to a point, but continuously scared or miserable makes a trip less fun. There is much debate on the optimal group size; too small and it is more difficult to rescue someone if needed, too large and group dynamics get more difficult. Generally 4-6 people make good company. Consider the level of the group as well, the experience level should always dictate the trip. We found the Alatna challenging but manageable with just 2 people, but comfort level on the John River was tenuous. I personally would not join a group rafting class IV water given my lack of skill and experience, it would not be fair to the others.

What time of year is it?: Interior Alaska is famous for mosquitoes. If you go early enough, you might avoid the first hatch which is really nice. Middle of summer can be brutal. Other places might be too hot, low water etc. This changes where you plan on going and what gear you have to bring. There’s usually a blog post somewhere on your specific trip so spend some time finding the optimal timeframe in which to travel. We found that August in the Arctic was actually quite pleasant but reports of snow especially later in the month could make things more interesting.

How long is the trip?: Shorter trips are generally easier to plan for. Foods don’t need to be quite as balanced and suffering through forgotten items is sometimes okay. Longer trips require more careful packing both so that nothing is forgotten and because the bulk is larger. In theory, the added weight of food is reduced over time as it is eaten but this is often trivial compared to the weight of the other gear, especially on packrafting trips. Trips that are more than about 5 days also need to account for unexpected weather and incorrect weather reports. Just because the radar says the system will pass north of you doesn’t mean it won’t change! Pack your bag ahead of time to balance weight and add/eliminate if needed. 

What are the expectations?: Do trip members want a leisurely float or a hard and fast march? Is there time for relaxing at a hot spring? My recommendation is to plan 2 trips, one that gets you from point A to B, and the other with fun side trips as time allows. Scouting the USGS maps for fun mountains to climb or ruins to explore can greatly reduce the urge to push through as hard and fast as possible just to get there. More ambitious members can hike a ridge after getting to the campsite, while others can set up the fire and enjoy their Schnapps. We had ambitious plans on the Alatna to hike the Arrigetch mountains; unfortunately we were slower to get out of the headwaters than anticipated and had to cancel those plans. We did a 20 mile day hike lower down looking for a hot spring that never materialized but it was still fun.

For more information about Alpine Fit and the adventure apparel and accessories we make in Achorage, Alaska check out our website

[kats-alcove]

After-School Activities: Chapter 2

|ch. 1|ch. 2|ch. 3| ch. 4| ch. 5| ch. 6| ch. 7| ch. 8|

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

Summary: 

You’re a relatively innocent University student, so why are you interested in the school’s BDSM club?

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter is a little boring, so feel free to skip it! But I really wanted to include this part, since I'm doing my best to portray a healthy D/s dynamic. A more exciting chapter should be out sometime this week or next!

Read it here on AO3!

You paced your dorm room, throwing glances at the clock on your dresser. You were supposed to be meeting Aizawa at 3PM, at a little cafe several miles from campus. The hope was that the awkward time of day and longer distance would limit the chances of the two of you bumping into anyone you knew.

It had been two weeks since your liaison with the professor, and in some ways it was like it had never happened. Aizawa didn't treat you any differently during class or when you passed each other in the halls. As far as the general public was concerned, the two of you were student and teacher, nothing more. In fact, you had almost started to feel like he had forgotten about his offer.

Then, a week after your encounter, your phone had lit up with a text from a number you didn't recognize.

???: Hello, Y/N. This is Aizawa.

Y/N: Mr. Aizawa?! How did you get my number?

Aizawa: I memorized it when I added my own to your contacts. I hope that’s alright with you?

Y/N: Of course! But… why wait until now to text me?

Aizawa: Unfortunately, I’ve been very busy. I apologize for the delay

Y/N: It’s fine, I understand.

Aizawa: It was not fine; it was rather irresponsible of me, actually. I should have checked up on you earlier.

Y/N: I've been fine, really!

Aizawa: All right. In the future, feel free to text me if you ever feel even the slightest bit off after a session, or drop by my office hours if needed.

Y/N: OK, I will. Wait, what do you mean by “future sessions”?

Aizawa: Ah, yes, my other reason for texting you. I would like to set up a meeting to discuss how this arrangement will proceed. Are you free this Thursday at 3PM?

Y/N: Yeah, I only have one class on that day, and it ends at 1PM.

Aizawa: Excellent. Then meet me at this cafe.

*Aizawa sent an address*

Aizawa: It’s a bit far, so you might want to take the bus.

Y/N: I can do that! Is there anything else you need?

Aizawa: Not at the moment. I actually have a class starting soon, so I’m afraid I have to go.

Y/N: No problem! I guess I’ll see you on Thursday?

Aizawa: I had better see you in class before then, Y/N.

Y/N: Oh, yeah! Heh.

And thus began the most anticipation-filled week of your life. You were as nervous as you were excited, for a variety of reasons. There was obviously the whole point of your meeting with Aizawa, the things you were assuming the two of you would discuss. But there was also the slight fear of being caught, which you knew was irrational. What you were doing wasn't illegal (you had checked).

Still, you wanted to avoid the questions that would inevitably arise if any of your classmates saw you with Aizawa. So you planned on bringing your backpack with your laptop and some study materials. That way, if anyone saw you it would be possible to claim that Aizawa was just helping you better understand some of his lecture material.

It was equipped in this manner that you left your dorm at 2:30. The bus stop on campus was less than 5 minutes from your dorm, and the next bus left at 2:36. That gave you plenty of time for the 10 minute bus ride, plus the 5 or so minutes it would take to walk from the bus stop to the cafe. Taking a window seat near the front of the bus, you popped your earbuds in and relaxed, content to enjoy your music and the scenery flashing by.

**************************************************

You stopped in front of the cafe, checking the time on your phone: 2:53. Hesitantly, you scanned the tables you could see through the glass storefront. Only a few of them were occupied, but none of the cafe-goers sported the signature mop of black hair you were looking for. You were just about to give up looking and text Aizawa, when a hand on your shoulder made you startle.

Whipping around, you were already bringing your hands up into a defensive position when you saw that the person who had scared you was the exact man you were waiting for. Aizawa was dressed far more casually than you had ever seen him, in a simple black shirt and jeans. One of his hands held a bag similar to yours. Awkwardly, you dropped your guard.

“Hi, Mr. Aizawa. I’m sorry about that.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Don't be.” Aizawa moved around you to open the door. “I’m glad to see that your training has become so instinctive. After you.”

You stepped into the cafe, the scent of warm pastries and hot coffee immediately setting you at ease. The jingle of the bell had the barista calling out a greeting to the two of you. With a light touch on the small of you back, Aizawa guided you up the counter, where he ordered a black coffee and a blueberry muffin.

“Order whatever you like, Y/N. It’s on me.”

“O-oh! Thank you!” You smiled at your teacher before placing an order for your favorite drink and pastry.

The two of you waited to the side whale the barista skillfully made your drinks. They set the two paper cups, along with a bag of pastries on the counter with a call of “Aizawa”? You retrieved your beverages, but when you made to sit at an unoccupied table, Aizawa caught your elbow with a shake of his head. He instead steered you towards a previously-unnoticed set of stairs.

The staircase led to a beautifully cozy loft above the main floor of the cafe. It was small, only big enough for one table with bookshelves lining the walls and a large bay window overlooking the street, complete with pillow-filled reading nook.

“Oh, wow!” you exclaimed, taking a seat. “This is so cute!”

“It’s private, too. One of the baristas will have put an ‘occupied’ sign on the staircase, so we won’t be interrupted.”

“So, in other words, a perfect place for the sort of conversation we’re going to have,” you said.

“Exactly. But before that,” Aizawa gazed at you from over the lid of his coffee cup. “How have you been? And tell the truth.”

You slumped in your seat a little. “Honestly, I was starting to get a bit anxious when you didn't talk to me, or at least text me. I thought that maybe I had done something wrong.”

“You didn't.”

“I know that, and I know you were just busy. I can get a little inside my own head at times.”

“Noted. Now, moving on to the business at hand.” Aizawa set down his coffee and folded his hands. “Y/N, I would like to enter into a D/s dynamic with you.”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. But this was Aizawa; did you really expect anything less from the hyper-rational man. Taking a fortifying sip of your drink, you let the words hang in the air between the two of you before you vocalized your answer.

“Ok. Yes, I’d like that.”

Aizawa nodded once before reaching into his bag and pulling out a folder and a couple pens. He placed them on the table in front of you and opened the folder to reveal a thick packet of paper. You leaned over to scan the first page, which consisted of a large block of text. Instantly, one word jumped out at you: contract.

You tapped the word. “This says ‘contract’. Is this legally binding?”

“It’s not a legal contract,” Aizawa explained. “But more of a way to establish the boundaries of our dynamic. It includes things like safewords, honorifics, hard and soft limits, aftercare requirements, etcetera. Anything I’ll need to know to make sure you have the most positive experience possible.”

You flipped through the papers, and immediately your eyes began to swim at the sheer amount of stuff it contained. Slowly, you closed the packet and pushed it away slightly. Aizawa’s face turned worried. He reached out, settling a hand on top of the stack of papers.

“Is everything all right, Y/N? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.” Genuine concern filled his voice.

“No!” you exclaimed. “I want to, I really want to; there’s just… a lot there. Will you help me?”

Aizawa relaxed minutely. “Of course. Here, let’s start with the first and most important question.”

He got up, scooting his chair around so that he was sitting next to you. Aizawa brought with him the contract, a pen, and an extra paper you didn't see the purpose of. Then he flipped to the first question of the contract, using the extra paper to cover everything but that question.

“First and foremost, you need a safeword for us to use. It should be something you would never say during play, but not so strange that it would be hard to remember.”

“Can't we just use the stoplight system?” you asked. “That seems easy enough to remember.”

“We will use it, but you should also have a safeword.” Aizawa said. “I use the stoplight system for check-ins, so ‘red’ doesn't always mean the end of the scene. You can use your safeword to immediately end the scene, not just temporarily stop it.”

“That makes sense.” You looked around the cozy loft, searching for some inspiration. Your eyes lit on one of the pretty purple pillows lining the reading nook. “How about ‘lavender’?”

“Lavender works,” Aizawa said, writing it down on the paper. “Next, what sort of dynamic will this be?”

At least this question you had an immediate answer to. “Bedroom dynamic only, maybe the occasional pre-arranged instance outside of it.”

“That’s fair. Moving on to honorifics. Are there any you do or don't want to be called?”

“Nothing too degrading, please. Other than that, I trust you to come up with some good ones.”

“All right,” Aizawa agreed, scribbling a few things down. “As for myself, I tend to prefer either Sir, Master, or Daddy. How do those sound to you?”

“Maybe not Master yet, but the other two are fine. And maybe...” you hesitated.

“Maybe what? I won’t judge you for anything you say here, Y/N.”

You took a breath. “If there’s a chance we could do some student/teacher roleplay, maybe Professor or Sensei?”

“Teacher roleplay, huh? Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Aizawa made another note. “Are there any health conditions I should be aware of?”

“Nope! Unless general battery from hero work counts.”

“Well, that’s something we’ll both have to deal with, so we can definitely work around it. Can I have my arm back so that I can note that down?”

Embarrassed, you sat up. At some point in your conversation, you had leaned into Aizawa so that your head was almost resting on his shoulder. His tone of voice was teasing, quickly setting your nerves back at ease. The two of you took a moment to finish your pastries and take drinks of coffee. When you were both refreshed, Aizawa tapped the packet again.

“Ready for the next page?”

“I’m ready,” you said.

“Okay.” Aizawa flipped the page. “Preferred aftercare.”

“I don't actually know,” you admitted “But I think I’ll need cuddles immediately after.”

“I have a routine I like to follow that I’ve noticed helps a lot of subs. We can try that, and if you want to change anything, let me know.”

“That sounds good, then.”

And so it went, Aizawa asking you questions and you doing your best to answer them. That went on for a little while until the two of you had worked through almost half of the packet. Then he turned one more page and pushed the papers back towards you.

“This part I can't help you with, but feel free to ask me any questions you have.”

You looked at the paper to see a table laid out. Each row of the table listed a different kink. There were places to mark them as either a ‘yes’, a soft limit, or a hard limit, as well as a place to add comments or elaboration. You flipped a few pages ahead, eyes widening as you saw how in-depth the list of kinks went.

“One at a time, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, using the extra sheet of paper to cover all but the first item on the list.

This part took significantly longer than the previous one. In all your research, you had no idea that there were this many kinks. There were many times you had to stop and ask Aizawa what something meant. At one point, he left you for a few minutes to go and fetch refills of your drinks. He also came back with a couple of sandwiches, hot off the cafe’s panini press.

Finally, you dropped your pen. “And done!”

“You got them all?” You nodded, and Aizawa reclaimed the packet to flip through it. “Excellent. Do you have any other questions?���

“Just one. What about your hard limits?”

Aizawa chuckled. “I doubt anything you could be into would cross one of my hard limits, but I don't put them on these contracts, just to be safe. Is there anything that wasn't listed here that you want to try?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “So now what? Do we just… sign on the dotted line?”

“Yes. You sign there, and I sign here.”

You took the pen Aizawa offered you and scrawled your signature on the line he indicated. He copied your actions, then carefully placed the signed contract back in its folder. You watched the paper disappear into Aizawa’s bag, the realization of what you had just done washing over you. A strange emotion bubbled up in your chest, one that took you a moment to identify. It wasn't fear or apprehension, or any sort of nerves.

It was complete elation.

“Hey, Aizawa?” you called softly. “Can… can I hug you?”

Aizawa smiled. “Of course you can.”

He held out his arms to you, and you didn't hesitate to bury yourself in his chest. Aizawa held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You tilted your face up to look at him.

“Thank you so much for this, sir,” you said, testing out the honorific.

“Of course, honey,” Aizawa responded.

The sweet pet name said in his deep voice had you melting further into his embrace, making him chuckle. “I take it you like that one? I've got more: princess, little one, baby girl .” He bent down, putting his mouth right next to your ear.

“Kitty-cat.”

You whimpered, tilting your head until you caught Aizawa’s lips in a sweet, clumsy kiss. He quickly brought a hand to your cheek, lifting your chin so he could kiss you deeper. The two of you parted on a gasp, a dopey smile on your lips and a smirk on Aizawa’s.

“You really like that, don't you? Do you wanna be my little kitty-cat?”

“ Yes, ” you breathed, trying to steal another kiss.

But Aizawa was too quick. He pressed a final peck to your forehead before pulling out of your reach. “As much as I wish we could stay longer, I have papers to grade, and I know for a fact you have homework to do.”

***********************************************

Later that evening, you were sitting at your desk, finishing up some of that homework Aizawa had mentioned. He had offered you a ride home from the cafe, but you had opted to take the bus in order to minimize the chances of your peers seeing you together. Still, he had elected to stay at the bus stop with you until you were safely on your way.

You were still a bit in awe of the events of the day. When you had woken up this morning, you had been nothing more than a young woman interested in kink, without a way to experience it. Now, you had a real, actual dominant! Not only a dominant, but Shouta Aizawa, a man you knew and trusted (and maybe still had a little bit of a crush on). And judging from your encounter in the classroom, he certainly knew what he was doing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft ping from your phone. The screen was lit up with a text from Aizawa that you hurried to open.

Aizawa: Hello, Y/N.

Y/N: Hello, Aizawa! Is everything ok?

Aizawa: Yes, everything’s fine. I’ve been looking at my schedule, and I have next Saturday free. Are you available as well?

Y/N: Yeah, I’m free! Why, if you don't mind me asking?

Aizawa: I would like that to be the day we try our first scene together if that works for you.

Y/N: Absolutely! Where do you want to… do it, I guess?

Aizawa: I have an apartment in the city. Be there around noon, and bring a bag with a change of comfortable clothes as well as any aftercare items you need.

*Aizawa sent an address.*

Y/N: Ok, I’ll be there! Oh, and sir?

Aizawa: Yes?

Y/N: Thank you, again. Thank you so much.

Aizawa: Of course, kitty-cat.

You turned off your phone, abandoning the desk in favor of flopping down on your bed. One week. You had a little over one week to get ready for your first official session with Aizawa.

You were pretty sure the wait was gonna kill you.

[mellowyandere]

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 1

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead) 

Summary: Shouta loves a good game of cat and mouse, unfortunately for you the game’s a little rigged. This is somewhat of an experiment to try and write a smut scene from the male POV. Disclaimer I am not a man so uh yeah lmao. 

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect. 

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man. He did his best to adhere to logic, and to never waste time with unnecessary action. And yet despite this, he absolutely loved watching you try to escape. You were pretty clever, even without him “accidentally” forgetting to lock the second story window that just so happened to be above some forgivingly soft shrubbery. 

You probably would have figured some way out on your own, but something feral inside him didn’t want to wait around for you to act. Normally it was his ever-loud husband Hizashi that fell flat when it came to the notion of patience, but today he would relent to his own selfish desires. 

Toshinori would have been utterly distressed had he been aware of the sleepy pros scheme. The number one was a man of swift action, seemingly never thinking twice before charging fist first into danger. He would not be happy Shouta was playing with you like this, but Toshinori and Hizashi wouldn’t be made aware of his little game with you. After all they had no idea he set this up, so they might genuinely try to punish you. He’d keep it quiet once he caught you and pretend it’s your little secret. Maybe you’d even be a little grateful if you believed he was saving your skin.

He rationalized his behavior by telling himself you seemed so bored, truly this was the perfect way to stimulate your mind and body. So when he heard the telltale sound of a body landing in bushes on the back side of the house he simply started a timer for 20 minutes to give you a bit of a head start. 

Was it cruel to get your hopes up like this? Perhaps, but he’d make sure to fuck you senseless to alleviate the disappointment. After all, if you were a good girl you’d have settled into your life with them already. But you really did enjoy testing them, which brought out the side of him that wanted to put you in your place. 

Giving himself a once over he made sure he had everything he would need for your inevitable return home. Well, now that you were basically quirkiness, all he needed was his capture weapon just in case you put up a struggle. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to fuck you when he caught you, or if he was going to haul your cute ass home first. 

Thinking about plowing into you with adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt had some blood rushing below his belt. Well he could always just do both.

The shrill ringing of his phones alarm brought him back from his wandering thoughts. With a sadistic grin stretching wide across his face he headed for the front door.

-----

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks trapped inside that house with three insane men. Sure they might not beat you or starve you, but the constant belittling, undermining and infantilizing was about to drive you to insanity yourself. You almost jumped for joy when you noticed an unlocked window on the second floor in Hizashi’s and Shouta’s room. The blond man had a bad habit of using too much cologne, and his dark-haired counterpart was always having to air out the room when the radio star went overboard. 

Eraserhead was normally very diligent about ensuring the window was sealed tight, but last night Toshinori had come home in a flurry of smoke and blood, sending his blond junior into hysterics. It was nothing serious, unfortunately, but Shouta had been the one to calm Hizashi and tend to the number ones injuries. Amidst all the ruckus he had left the window unlocked. 

You knew Shouta would soon realize his mistake and lock the window down tight, leaving you with a small time frame to enact your grand escape. It wasn't ideal, but the best you had been able to do was wait for both blonds to leave, trapping you in the house with Shouta. Normally he let you be during the day, opting to nap and grade what appeared to be homework. Hopefully today would seem like just another day, and he wouldn’t think to check on you until dinner approached. 

You found yourself perched on the window sill, ready to take flight. All you had were the clothes on your back, not wanting to make any suspicious noises that would tip you off. On the count of three you braced yourself and pushed off from the ledge, landing on the bushes below with a thud. 

Fuck, that was a bit louder than you had anticipated. Ignoring your growing anxiety, you made quick work of escaping the clutches of the now flattened bush and took off into the woods on the back half of the house. 

Your heart was hammering like mad in your chest as you sprinted as fast as you could. It was hardly fair that it was your first time outside in three weeks and you couldn’t even slow down to take it all in. Thankfully it was spring, meaning you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold. All you needed to do was find someone to get this stupid quirk canceling collar off and then you could safely recede into the background, making sure the three pros never found you again. 

Easier said than done when one of those pros was All Might, and the other two were just as formidable, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. You did your best to not leave a trail behind, but knew once Shouta figured out you were gone he’d have no trouble tracing your tracks. It was the unfortunately shitty reality you were dealing with. 

Were you really going to be able to escape? Even now as you ran as fast as you could it felt like a fruitless endeavor. There were too many variables that had to line up perfectly in order for you to pull this off, and as you ran directionless through the woods no viable solutions were coming to you. Hell, even now your lungs were burning from exertion, legs begging you to stop. 

But if there was one thing that you were it was stubborn. Stubborn to a fault sometimes, and so you pushed onwards. After what felt like an eternity of non-stop running you slowed to a walk. The forest seemed never ending, taunting you with its sprawling army of trees and shrubbery. You decided to be more mindful of the tracks you were leaving, veering off course in a way that would hopefully go undetected. 

Now no longer running you simply kept your steps quiet and ears alert in case Shouta had already discovered your absence. He was good at his work, but even he had limitations. 

-----

Shouta had to give credit where credit was due, you were better at this than he thought you’d be. If you were his student he’d be proud, but you were his prey so he was a bit annoyed. At first your tracks had been sloppy, easy to follow and incredibly straight forward. At some point though you had changed your approach, footsteps almost vanishing as you adopted a new tactic. 

He found himself crouching low, inspecting leaves to see which you had accidentally broken. There were no more snapped limbs as you carefully maneuvered through the woods. If he wasn’t a pro at hunting people down you probably would have been able to evade him, but this was his livelihood. 

Ever so carefully he followed your almost invisible trail. He had you beat in endurance so you’d have to settle somewhere eventually, and without food and water you were at a distinct disadvantage. Everything was lining up in his favor as he intended, even if you were making this a little harder than expected. 

The anticipation of catching a glimpse of you, of watching you realize he was there and taking off, made his heart beat faster. The longer you evaded him, the more time he had to come up with a fun punishment for you. 

-----

The sun had been directly overhead at the beginning of your escape, and was now kissing the horizon. Oranges and reds were thrown about the woods as the creatures of the night began to wake from their slumber. You listened to see if you could hear the chirping of frogs to find a water source but no luck. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Shouta was 110% aware of your absence by now and was probably hot on your trail. You were zigzagging a bit, trying your best to not disturb the forest floor while making it harder to track you. Dammit this was the fucking worst, it had to have been at least 6 hours in these woods, and without any food or water you were famished. 

And yet despite wandering about for 6 fucking hours you had yet to see anything besides the woods. Maybe you should just give up, sit down and accept defeat and whatever punishment you had awaiting you. You couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fear of what that would entail. 

As dusk quickly turned dark you debated on whether or not you were going to rest for the night. Visibility would be lower, giving you a slight edge, but Eraserhead was a night owl meaning you were entering his domain of peak performance. There was also no guessing if he was the only one looking for you. All Might could move faster than you could even comprehend and Present Mic was fine-tuned when it came to noise location. 

Sighing in annoyance as your wayward thoughts shot holes through your confidence you decided to find somewhere to try and lay down for a bit. If all three were out hunting you down they could take turns and overlap the time so you never got to rest. As busy as they should be with hero work they always seemed to find too much time to hover around you. 

Spotting some dense shrubbery, you crossed your fingers that any creepy crawlies would keep to themselves and carefully began to conceal yourself. Perhaps one of them would pass by and you could gain some intel. If you were lucky they’d write this area off after not finding you and search elsewhere. 

Settling as comfortably as one could in a bush you closed your eyes and did your best to focus on the sounds around you. The melodic chirping of crickets was the most overwhelming of all the sounds. Skittering of small forest animals echoing around as well. Your mind began to desensitize to those sounds, the lack of adrenaline that pushed you along at the start of all this causing it to dip into unconsciousness. 

That was until you heard the distinct snap of a branch. Eyes flying open you were on high alert as you kept still. You tried to hear if there would be any follow up sounds, knowing something of a decent size had to have broken the branch. If it had been a deer they would have simply kept moving, which made you all the more anxious. 

“No more tracks kitten, I know you’re here somewhere. This little game dragged on a lot longer than I had anticipated so it seems there won’t be any way to hide this from Zashi and Toshinori.” 

You wanted to scream. Even though you had tried your best it simply wasn’t enough against Eraserhead. 

“If you come out kitten I’ll give you one last shot to run. Those bushes over there look like a mighty fine hiding spot for someone of your size.” His voice was pointed directly towards you.

FUCK. You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not at this point but he knew you were here, might as well come out with some dignity before he dragged you out kicking and screaming. 

The bush rustled loudly as you forced your way out. You were tired, famished and most of all so frustrated you wanted to cry. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he had a condescending smirk plastered to his face. 

“There’s my pretty kitty, did you have fun outside?”

Shouta knew just what to say to strike a nerve, but you held your tongue. “One last shot to run. You said so yourself. Ditch the capture weapon and catch me like a man, I mean unless you don’t think you can. I’m already quirkiness which is your gimmick on a regular day, so really you're just beating on someone while they're already down.” You looked up now, glaring at him as his smile grew in amusement. 

“I’m going to have to be a lot more physical without it you know, I’ll have no choice but you manhandle you.”

“I’d rather take my chances.” You knew even without his capture weapon you didn’t stand much of a chance of escape. Your only goal now was to try and see how much he was willing to handicap himself. 

“Gonna give me a head start or are you going to just run as soon as I do?”

At this Shouta had to keep himself from snarking back at you. He had already given you a head start, but if he told you this was all set up you’d probably lose the will to fight on. “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to run as far as you can and then I’ll come after you,” he said while pulling out his phone. 

“What about Toshinori and Hizashi?” 

“At the house. I told them I’d handle this, Toshinori will be coming to get us though once I tell him game over. We’re pretty deep in the woods and I don’t feel like walking back for six hours.”

You nodded at his words. So it was just the two of you then. Your combat skills were nothing to write home about, but maybe if you fought dirty you could gain the upper hand. 

“Alright, tell me when.”

“Oh, I already started it. You have 4 minutes and 17 seconds.”

Fucking asshole. You took off sprinting, running as fast as you could, only opting to slow to a jog once you thought you were out of earshot. You wanted him to believe you’d be trying your damndest to put distance between the two of you. But you knew you’d never outrun him. Instead you were going to continue jogging for a bit, counting down the seconds in your head so you didn’t lose track your timer. 

Once your remaining time was up you were going to lay low and try to ambush him. He wouldn’t be paying as close attention to your trail since he knew he could easily catch up. 

After the remaining 4 minutes had passed you found a decent sized tree to hide behind and worked on slowing down your breathing. It felt like your heart was going to chisel its way straight through your bones, your limbs trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t often you were hunted back when you were an anti-hero. Not many people knew who you were which made it incredibly easy to be looked over. 

Scooping up handfuls of dirt you waited. You heard him before you saw him. He wasn’t bothering to take it slow, seemingly eager to get it over with. He ran right past you, noticing you a second too late as dirt and debris were chucked straight into his face. 

He yelled out in surprise, hands reaching out to grab you but you jumped out of reach. True to his word his capture weapon was nowhere in sight. Screaming in anger you lunged at him, nails attempting to claw his face but his own larger hands were working on wiping off your dirt assault, effectively blocking you.  

He stumbled back a bit, unprepared for your hostility, before steadying himself and turning the tables back on you. In one swift motion his fist collided with your gut, forcing the air from your lungs. Your arms came down to protect where he had hit as you wheezed pathetically. Seconds later his larger frame came crashing into you, easily knocking you to the ground. 

You cried out in pain, head hitting the ground a bit too hard as stars danced behind your eyes.

“Not very smart of you Y/N, I mean it beats trying to outrun me, but really? Dirt? It’s like you want me to punish you or something.”

“GET OFF ME!” 

Placing a hand on the back of your head he pushed you down while his other arm pulled the lower half of your body flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your ass.

You were a snarling sobbing mess at this point. All your emotions crashing down at once as you thrashed below Shouta.

“Easy now easy, calm down kitten. You did really good, better than I thought you were going to. If you calm down I might be willing to reduce your punishment, but you have to stop throwing a fit first.”

Despite his words Shouta was enjoying almost every second of your thrashing. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was knowing how disappointed you were right now. Anyone would be after coming so far. Now was his chance to make it up to you before giving Toshinori the go ahead. 

As your struggles subsided the only movement from your body was from your gentle sobs. Shouta for his part was slowly grinding his hard cock against your ass as he softly shushed you. 

“I know you’re disappointed kitten but I’ll make you feel better. If you’re a good girl for me I’ll be willing to look past that little dirt tactic. You’re such a smart girl though, you really did catch me by surprise.”

Leaning down he began to whisper into your ear, removing the hand from your head and bringing it down to your clothed pussy. 

“You always were resourceful, it’s one of the things I fell in love with about you. If only you were a hero, but then again if you were I wouldn’t have had the fun of hunting you down.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words. All three of them enjoyed reminiscing about how they first saw you and all their subsequent actions that lead to your imprisonment. The effort they had put into bringing you “home”. It was beyond disturbing. 

“Please Shouta, not here. Can we, can we just go home first?”

“Maybe if I had found you 4 hours ago, but right now you’re treading on very thin ice. Be a good girl for me and I’ll make sure Hizashi and Toshinori don’t punish you too harshly when we get back.”

His large hand was pawing at your clothed sex, black hair draping over your own face as his body curled around you. He slowly rutted against you, excited huffs of air ghosting across the side of your face. You could practically feel his heart vibrating against your back he was so worked up. 

He gently rubbed his stubble against the side of your face, composure slipping a bit. While Shouta absolutely loved how feisty you could be, nothing compared to when you submitted to him. He craved the feeling of your tired body giving in to his ministrations, but he needed more. 

His hand quickly slipped between your pants and underwear, index finger eagerly aiming for your folds. He couldn’t care less that you were sweaty and dirty from the hunt. Right now all he could think about was the softness of your exposed flesh, and much to his delight, the slight wetness to your outer lips. 

“Seems like someone likes being caught more than they let on hmm kitten?”

He couldn't help but taunt you a bit, loving the way you sniffled and whimpered beneath him. You knew when to behave yourself, when to be good for him. Arousal was flooding his veins. The way it felt to rub himself against your perfect ass, even through layers of clothes, had his mind blanking out. 

Your core was warm, even without him dipping a finger inside. Gently he began to delve deeper, gathering up your arousal to spread around. Your pants were starting to bother him a bit, retracting his hands he made quick work of not only your bottoms, but his as well. You remained still for him, opting to sulk like a child as he prepared to ravish you. 

You were too cute like this, and with the lower half of your body on full display he couldn't help but groan in delight. Bringing a hand down he slapped your ass hard, mesmerized by the way your flesh gave way. You yelped in surprise, body rutting forward. His cock twitched as he palmed your sore flesh, cooing softly in apology. You glared back at him, pretty little face set in a pout.

As much as he wanted to slap your ass until you cried for him to stop he restrained himself. Although this was a punishment, he had set you up. He would go easy on you, not forgetting his promise to himself to help you forget the frustration you were feeling right now. 

Whenever you got angry you opted to stop talking, instead waiting for a moment of weakness to strike or quietly accept your fate. Judging by your defeated expression he could safely assume the latter 

Folding himself over you he brought his hand back down to your pussy, thumb working slow circles on your clit while he middle finger delved deeper. Your entrance was a bit tight, but with gentle persistence he worked his way inside. 

Your velvety inner walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t help but rut his aching cock against your bare ass as his mind drifted to the feeling of you clamping down on his arousal instead. Your whines of protest only further spurring on his overwhelming need to be inside you. 

Adding a second finger he began to pump into you with a bit more urgency. Your slick was quickly coating his hand as he hit all the spots he knew would work you up to your orgasm. Groaning in delight he brought his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and nipping at your soft flesh. 

He loved when he could tell you were getting close. Your warm walls would clamp down on him, breathy mewls and moans escaping your soft lips. You were rocking back into him, uncaring of the fact that you were grinding against him as you chased your release. In these moments you abandoned your resolve to fight against him, and he happily took advantage of that. After all, if your body knew what you wanted, surely your mind would catch up one day.

Your moans were more audible now, hands grasping at the forest floor. Your back was arched into him, desperate to use him. So close, you were so close he knew it, and right before you could finish he pulled his hand away. He laughed as you huffed in frustration. 

“Shouta pl-please.” Fuck, he loved it when you begged. It didn’t happen often with how stubborn you were but when it did he knew he had to comply. 

Instead of verbally responding he opted to do what he wanted to all night long. Lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance he groaned at the heat radiating off you. Pumping his hand along his length a couple times to lube himself up with your excess fluid he pushed the tip in. You stilled beneath him, and in one swift movement he fully sheathed himself. 

His mind went blank as you cried out in pleasure, wet walls convulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you. He held still, opting to gently pet you while cooing softly down at you. Before he met you, even with Hizashi, he had never been very vocal during sex. But now he couldn’t stop himself from babbling a bit, praising you for being such a good girl. 

As your body stilled in his arms he continued to plant kisses along your delicate neck. Your soft sniffles made his heart clench a bit, how was it possible for you to be so damn cute? 

“Alright kitten now it’s my turn. No pulling anything stupid, I won’t take long.”

This whole hunt had been one giant tease, working him up in a way he normally wouldn’t allow himself. Pulling out he groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding against you. Moving his hands he grabbed your waist, eyes transfixed on where you were joined. Your back was arched as you braced yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself to him. 

His mind clouded over, blood opting to drag his attention elsewhere. He began to push back in, desperate to feel you surrounding him. Setting a tempo he pulled about halfway out before slamming back in, loving the way your body moved as you bounced off him. 

His hands dug into your supple flesh, possibly leaving bruises. He could feel the oncoming of his own orgasm, the muscles in his lower abdomen pulsating. He was panting, heart racing in his rib cage as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have the patience to edge himself today, he needed this, needed you.

He loved hearing the way your breath was forced from your lungs when he fully sheathed himself inside you. He knew he was overstimulating you a bit, but the part of him that needed to find his own release didn’t pay that fact much mind. All he could think about was the way it felt to be one with you, lost inside your soft warmth.  

After only a couple more minutes of relentlessly pounding into you he couldn’t hold it back any longer. A wave like sensation rushed through his body as his hips stuttered. He folded over you, wrapping his arms around you as he felt his hot cum rush through his cock and fill your body. The emotions rushing through him as he released into you, the woman he loved, were indescribable.

It didn’t take long for his muscles to relax, euphoria swept away by the need to take a nap washing over him. You had long since stopped crying, remaining motionless beneath him. He wondered what was going through your mind as he held you flush against him.

“Sho-Shouta.” So meek, so quiet. His heart fluttered a bit. “Can we go home now... I want to take a shower.”

Chuckling softly he pulled himself out, groaning a bit at the feeling of overstimulation as your warm walls dragged against him. Leaning away he smiled as his cum leaked out your pussy. 

“Yes kitten we can go home. I’ll make sure to clean you up.”

You groaned in protest, hating when they insisted on washing you. He knew you liked your privacy but Hizashi and Toshinori were still going to want to punish you. He’d keep close by to keep them from being too harsh. 

Pulling up his pants he fished his phone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the sheer quantity of missed calls from the two aforementioned. Poor little kitten, it didn’t look like you’d be getting off easy. 

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

[zhongliologist]

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors. 

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

*

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. “Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

[27emailsicantsend]

Hi! Why do you think 'kids' tv shows add so many meta stuff? The motif/theories/meta things I saw with GMW, HSMTMTS, JATP etc is something I don't see with adults/teen shows. Whats your input on that?

Hi anon! I love this question and I also apologize, I might have loved it too much because I wrote a much longer answer than I was anticipating lol.Any chance I can get about talking about how underrated these shows are, I will absolutely take.

I can firmly agree with you on the stance that some of these “kids” shows seem a lot deeper and have more layers than even adult tv. It’s so funny because I was literally thinking about this the other day. I needed a new show to hyperfixate on while I waited for hsmtmts to come back and I saw the new Emily Osment show on netflix (Pretty Smart). I thought it looked cute and it wasn’t bad, but it definitely did not hold any depth. It was interesting though, because it was a comedy AND they tried to aim for deep moments, symbolism, and potentially future callbacks. However, it lacked something really crucial: heart.

I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. These shows that are getting aired, especially things like girl meets world, andi mack, and hsmtmts are coming from producers who have previous works out to base their shows off of. They have really big shoes to fill, like Andi Mack’s producer was the creator of Lizzie McGuire or creating a show that’s a one off of the hsm franchise. It almost makes these pieces passion projects, where the producers want to make something really great and worthwhile, because they have large names to live up to. Their writing needs to solid and the show needs to feel worthwhile for all audience members involved. I also believe that these showrunners just have a gift for making tv that feels exciting and new to watch. It’s so easy to see how excited their audience gets every week digging through all of the symbolism and meta- an excited audience means more showtime and more praises toward the program (and who wouldn’t want to know their show is enjoyable??) It’s interesting to me because the care towards these shows is almost tangible with how much depth, parallels, and meta is involved.

The issue, I think, lies in the programming the show runners have been allotted to use. They probably got “reasonably” good contracts with Disney, as well as the means to have a highly viewed and produced show (Disney has a lot of popularity and money, so they can accommodate this need). However, this also means that ultimately Disney has the final say. So some of the shows, at times, can feel a little “dumbed down” and cheesy because the showrunners probably feel a need to reach a wider audience. They’re creating shows meant for people in their 20’s-30’s and are having to draw in a core audience of 5-13 at the same time. That is a LARGE shoe to fill, which is why these shows sometimes feel like they give you whiplash. GMW did that to me for sure with Riley. She would be really serious and have these amazing on screen moments that showed her acting chops and then they would make her do something “kiddish” and it would feel like a complete reversal of her character. The most unfortunate part of all of this, is it doesn’t matter how much love and passion the showrunner, audience, or anyone else shows, disney will always be the final decision maker. And if they don’t feel like enough of their “demographic is watching” and the numbers aren’t as high up as they want, the show gets cancelled.

I think the show runners are on a really limited platform that holds their potential back in order to give that platform money. It’s like you can tell the writers are trying to push the absolute limits of what they can do to make these shows meaningful and impactful for their intended audience (people in their 20’s-30’s), but then they hit a glass ceiling and have to come back down for Disney’s core audience (5-13). As scary as it might be for them to sign on with a platform that isn’t as big or might not have as much access to the budget and viewership disney does (it is currently the largest tv company), I think it could really benefit their shows for everyone involved. The writers could make their shows complete pieces without them getting cut too soon, they could be created for their intended audience, and they wouldn’t be confined creatively towards how deep their show can go. Disney+ was a really positive direction for the writing of hsmtmts. It’s like that glass ceiling was pushed just a little higher and you can tell because the story feels more complete and mature (not to mention it survived and got a 4th season… something timothy was worried about).

Ultimately, I think the meta comes from that “heart” piece I mentioned at the beginning of this post. Again, these shows have big shoes to fill if they don’t want to completely dissapoint the older audience that will absolutely come back for them. It’s fun getting to interact and theorize with the shows as well. It makes them feel like they’re a part of you and not just something you casually engage with from time to time. I watch the show with full focus because I don’t want to miss anything and then I watch again and again and again to theorize and contemplate what’s coming up next. I don’t know one tv runner who would hate the idea of a really engaged audience that basically promotes the show for you because of how actively they are in trying to discover all of the nuances of each episode from week to week. That, my friend, is good tv.

[mercy-burning]

Make It Even

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reaer Summary: Part 2 to Out Of Commission (but can be read separately) - After about a month of recovering from an injury, Reader can finally have sex again, and Spencer has an idea. Category: Smut 18+ (female masturbation, use of a vibrator, dirty talk - degradation with mentions of fingering, hair pulling, and rough sex) Warnings: Sex, language, brief mentions of injury (As always, if there’s anything that I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I always want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3.3k

***EDITED: 7/25/2021***

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLSIT

***

Being seriously hurt by a serial killer was definitely not fun in any capacity, but the whole thing had been a major learning experience.

For one thing, Y/N learned that she hated hospital checkups. Once a week she had to go, to make sure everything was healing properly. Having Spencer there to make sure everything was going smoothly was extra comforting, though it didn't make constant doctor visits any less tedious.

Secondly, she hated menstruation. Which was a natural, obvious disdain that she'd harbored since the ripe age of eleven, but while being severely injured like she'd been recently, it sucked extra. Not only did she have to deal with menstrual pain and having to be careful not to rip or irritate her stitches every time she cleaned up, but she was also extra horny with no outlet for it.

That one week was probably the worst of it. Spencer wanted to stay with her of course, to bring her the extra comfort, but it was less comforting and more torturous unfortunately. She insisted that he stay at his apartment or at least sleep on the couch, because she didn't know how many more cold showers she could take.

Finally, she learned that her ability to marathon movies was probably one of her strongest assets. Not only did she manage to watch every single Lord of the Rings, Twilight, Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Fast and the Furious movie, but she stayed awake and alert through every one. She tried getting Spencer to pay attention to Twilight, but he did fall asleep, though somehow managed to make it through every Fast and the Furious film. She'd make him re-watch them in time, but right now she was just glad that she could get up and move around like a normal person again.

Speaking of, she was currently waiting for her boyfriend to come back from the store. She'd wanted to go with, but he insisted on getting some surprises, so he went alone.

Y/N was cleaning up her kitchen when the door opened and Spencer walked in, struggling to carry more than four large grocery bags.

"Geez, what did you get? I thought we were just making a pizza..." Y/N laughed, running over to help him carry some of the bags. He handed her the lighter ones, still taking caution of her injuries, and she smiled fondly for it.

"I know," he said, slightly out of breath from the walk. "And I got stuff to make pizza, but there were some other things I wanted to get you."

She was about to open one of the bags to help unload everything, but he stopped her. "No! Don't look at anything. Surprises, remember?"

With a sigh and a small laugh, Y/N stepped away from the bags as Spencer set down the ones he was carrying. "Fine. Where do you want me?"

"Bedroom. I'll come in when I'm done." He walked to her and gave her a big, deep kiss before practically pushing her to the bedroom. "Won't take long, promise."

As she heard him unload the bags in the kitchen through the closed door, Y/N wondered what he could possibly have gotten. Knowing Spencer, it could have been about a million different things. Since they'd started dating, he was always so creative and thoughtful with his 'surprises', and each one had been different every time. And since he knew her so well, probably more than she knew herself, she was certain she was going to love it.

That being said, it was taking way longer than she thought it would.

"Hey, you said it wasn't going to take long!" she called out, crossing her legs and swinging them off the bed after closing Twitter from her phone and setting it on the nightstand. "You didn't get lost in there, did you?"

"No!" Spencer called back. "Almost done!"

She smiled to herself, tapping her fingers against her knees and tilting her head to the side in wait.

About a minute passed when she heard him at the door. "Okay, close your eyes!"

She rolled them affectionately before doing so. "They're closed!"

As she heard the door open, she couldn't help the smile that adorned her face, only growing wider when she felt Spencer pepper sweet kisses along her cheeks before she felt him kneel in front of her on the floor. He took her knees and spread them apart, and she raised her eyebrows, eyes still closed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting in position. Open your eyes."

By the amused tone in his voice alone, Y/N thought she had a pretty good idea of what she might find when she regained sight. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, she looked down and noticed Spencer kneeling on the floor, head tilted upward to look at her, his hands in his lap and his eyes searching hers with the most adoring gleam she'd ever seen.

She laughed, bringing her hands out to run through his hair. When they cradled his cheeks, he smiled, bringing his hands up from his lap and revealing... A vibrator. She'd never seen it before. He must have bought and sanitized it before coming in the room, which would be why it had taken so long.

"You.. You bought me a vibrator?"

"Mhm," he answered with the giddiest tone she'd ever heard from him. "I really appreciated what you did for me while you were... out of commission... a few weeks ago, so I wanted to return the favor. Kind of. I, uh... I have an idea..."

Y/N took the vibrator from him and turned it over in her hands as he explained himself.

"I know we could start having sex again, but I thought this would be a fun way to ease you into it, plus I get to make it even."

She looked down at him, amused with an eyebrow raised and a small smirk forming on her mouth. "You want to watch me fuck myself with a vibrator?"

Spencer nodded, placing his hands on her knees again. "And we don't even have to have sex afterwards if you don't want. I have extra clothes here, and I'm more than prepared to take a cold shower when you're done."

Laughing, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, right before leaning her own against it. "You're sure?"

"Mhm. Only if you want to, I mean, I thought it would be fun..."

Y/N pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, nodding. "It does sound fun. You gonna talk me through it?"

He nodded and leaned up on his knees a little to reach her lips, kissing her just as deeply as he had in the kitchen earlier. She kissed him back fervently, reveling in the feeling of his tongue against hers and the soft hums he let out whenever their lips slightly parted to kiss each other deeper.

Eventually she pushed his shoulders down and moved her head back, looking down at him with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth briefly before speaking. "Will you take my pants off for me, please?" she inquired sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

If she kept up this sweet act, this was going to be way harder for him than anticipated, and they both knew it. Regardless, he was more than happy to reach up and unbutton her jeans, looking up at her adoringly while he shimmied them down over her thighs and eventually her ankles.

The second he went back to his position on the floor, Y/N flipped the vibrator over in her hands. "What would you like me to do, baby?"

"Put your legs up on my shoulders?"

She draped her ankles over his shoulders and pulled him closer with them, a small smile forming as his eyes practically widened, being so close to her, where he hadn't been in so long. "Don't turn the vibrator on yet," he said softly, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He turned his head a little and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her calf before he continued. "I want you to touch it to yourself, just lightly over your panties, okay?"

With a nod, Y/N leaned back on one arm and used the other to bring the toy to her clothed pussy, running it softly over herself as instructed. She sighed, biting her lip as she looked down at Spencer, who was mesmerized by her hand movements. She could feel herself getting visibly wetter as he watched, a soft whine escaping her throat before he looked up at her.

"You feeling it already, baby?" he murmured softly, bringing his arms up to wrap around the underside of her legs and resting his hands on the insides of her thighs. As his fingers drifted softly in lazy circles, she mimicked their movements with the vibrator on her clit, longing desperately for more friction.

"Please," she breathed, so lightly that she was unsure he'd even heard her, even as she looked him dead in the eye as she said it.

For a moment she thought about sliding the vibrator under the fabric anyway, taking the chance that he wouldn't do anything to chastise her for it. Thankfully it didn't have to go that far, because Spencer removed himself completely from her and stood up.

"Lay back against the headboard?" he asked more than demanded.

Y/N didn't even have to think, scooting back and into position. As she did so, he climbed on the bed himself and sat across from her, making himself as comfortable as he could be.

Probably because she was excited to start having sex again, but also because it was just fun to see her boyfriend's reactions to her boldness, she smirked a little, looking him straight in the eye as she slipped her panties off and threw them in his direction. They landed on his shoulder, and he didn't move them, his own giddy grin making an appearance. To give him more of a show, she ran her hands slowly up her legs, spreading them wider with each passing second until they were completely open, revealing everything to him.

The second Spencer's eyes glanced down, she started to move, using her middle finger to run through pussy. She continued this for almost a minute, her boyfriend completely focused on what she was doing, speechless, before almost jolting him with her words.

"You gonna help me out, Doc, or are you just gonna stare?"

He looked back up at her face, and she could see him visibly swallow, his enchantment with her completely endearing. Then he replied.

"God, you're beautiful..." The sweetness in his words, just barely laced with desire made her move a little faster, though not by much. He still seemed to notice, though, because he flashed a grin that disappeared as quickly as it came, right before shifting in his place and continuing with his words. "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing your pretty little pussy..."

She sighed, leaning her head back and circling her clit. She loved hearing him talk, about anything, really, but when he was like this? She couldn't get enough.

"So many nights this past month, it's taken so much out of me, resisting the urge to just sneak my hand up your shorts when we were in bed, watching movies together. To feel you squirm under my touch. I thought about how much I wanted to play with your pussy, sort of like you're doing now..."

Her fingers moved a little faster as she recalled a similar dream she'd had one of those nights. She'd been thinking about sex all day and ended up dreaming about just that—Spencer crawling over her and fingering her, bringing her to the edge over and over again until she finally woke up feeling sore. She'd been moving in her sleep, and it wasn't fun. At all.

But now she could move all she wanted. Listening to her boyfriend talk about doing to her exactly what she'd experienced and dreamed about many times before filled her with the most joy she'd felt in the longest month of her life.

So she reached for the vibrator that she'd set beside her, and replaced her fingers with it, opening her eyes to meet him. He watched her intently with his hands clenching the sheets beneath him. It made her smile, knowing he couldn't do anything about it, and that spurred her on. She hesitated to turn it on, wanting to wait until he started speaking again, maybe when he was in the middle of a sentence, to see if he'd pause or stumble over his words.

As she ran the toy along her clit, she tilted her head to the side and sighed. "Your fingers always feel so good inside me, baby," she said, slipping the vibrator lower and slowly plunging it inside of her. "They're so long and perfect. And you use them so well."

He exhaled, still completely entranced with everything she was saying and doing. Because just as long as she hadn't had any sexual stimulation, he hadn't seen her experience it either, and this was just as exhilarating for him as it was for her.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked softly, briefly meeting her eyes.

She laughed a little, giving him the most mischievous look before clicking the vibrator on and slowly moving it in and out of herself. "If you want to call it quits and just fuck me, all you have to do is say so... I don't mind, believe me..."

He genuinely looked like he was contemplating it before shaking his head softly, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes. "No, I-I promised I'd make it even. I want to watch you."

With that sentiment, Y/N worked the vibrator a little faster, sighing out as she did so. "So... When you do finally fuck me, do you still want to take me from behind?"

"Mhm," Spencer sighed, shifting his position again. "You feel so good that way. So nice and tight. And it's even better when I have your hair in my fingers, hearing you moan for me while I tug on it."

As her one hand worked the vibrator inside and out of her, Y/N moved her other to circle her clit, both of them working together to build up the orgasm that was already starting to come to the surface. After all this time not having any sexual release, she knew this wouldn't take long, even if she tried to take it slow.

She moaned out softly like Spencer described, barely keeping her eyes open enough to see him grip the sheets tighter. His eyes were trained on her movements, barely blinking.

Since she was closer to orgasm than she'd been in months, she closed her eyes before speaking again, hoping that he'd continue talking and knowing that when he did it would finally give her the release she'd so desperately wanted to feel.

"Fuck, baby, yes... I love when you fuck me from behind and pull my hair. It makes me feel like such a bad girl..."

"Oh? So you'd rather I fuck you like a dirty whore than my girlfriend, is that it?"

Her words seemed to have flipped a switch in him, because every one of his was dripping with a deep seduction she'd only ever heard from him a few times. It sent a jolt of electricity through her body as her hands picked up speed, and she brought herself closer to the edge.

"Ohhh, yes," she sighed, her eyes squeezing shut harder as she felt that telltale tension in her lower stomach. She was going to cum any second now. "Please, baby, I want it so bad..."

He spoke loud and clear, knowing exactly what would get her there. "Aw, my poor little slut hasn't been fucked in so long she's desperate to be degraded? Is that what you want? You wanna be fucked so dumb you can't even think?"

Every sensation she was feeling right now really did send her into a state of speechlessness. It was truly magical the way Spencer knew how to control her like that. He knew every trick in the book, every single thing that would make her numb in the best ways possible, and it never got old. All she could manage were sharp breaths and the occasional whimper as she started to experience the first orgasm she'd had in just over a month.

All it took was one word. One demand. One forceful step on the gas pedal that sent her flying off the cliff and into the pool of pleasure below.

"Come."

With a long, drawn-out moan, Y/N held the vibrator as far inside her as she could take it, her other hand working her clit through one of the most blinding orgasms she'd ever experienced by herself. Her head stayed planted firmly against the headboard as her back arched and her toes curled, every muscle in her body tensing. Her vision went white, sparkling like tv static behind closed eyelids as she lit up with pleasure. God, she missed that feeling. Everything was so heavy and light at the same time, even as she came down, her back slumping against the headboard once again and her eyes fluttering open.

Spencer looked at her like she was the only thing he'd ever known, ever had the pleasure to see with his own two eyes.

Seeing how obvious it was that he was trying very hard not to do anything about his own arousal, Y/N clicked the vibrator off and slid it out of herself, smiling weakly at him and trying to catch her breath. "You want a taste?"

She'd never seen him move faster in her life. She laughed softly as he climbed over to her and brought the toy to his lips, looking her deep in the eyes as he took it in his mouth and sucked on it. The pure guttural groan that left his throat sent a chill down her spine, made even more profound when his hand came up to run his fingers through her pussy softly. She jolted forward at the contact, sending the vibrator further into his mouth, to which he groaned again and fluttered his eyes closed.

His fingers gathered more of her arousal as he pulled off the vibrator and opened his eyes again, sitting back just a little. He then brought his fingers away and to his lips, coating them in her arousal like lip balm. He sucked them off quickly before climbing forward and kissing her on the mouth.  

Tasting herself on him was almost as intoxicating as the orgasm itself, Y/N leaning into him and bringing her hands up to comb through his hair after tossing the vibrator to the side. The two of them stayed like that for a long time, making out with each other before they eventually came up for air.

Spencer smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "You're fucking incredible, you know that?"

She laughed, brushing her nose against his. "You're the one who bought me a vibrator, And helped me get through this injury... I love you, you know."

He sighed into her, pressing another small, sweet kiss to her lips before shifting seemingly rather uncomfortably. "I love you, too. But as much as I love you, I really need to take that cold shower now."

"I'll get our pizza started while you do that," Y/N said with a laugh. "And then, maybe I can finally convince you to watch Twilight with me without falling asleep? At least the first movie?"

Spencer got off the bed and kissed the top of her head with the most doting smile. "Anything you want."