#fragile masculinity be gone!
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regarding vessel appreciation day (which is every day btw) here's cute clips i found where guys shouting their love for him
#sleep token#wholesomeposting this one#vessel#pretty sure these were from TOG#i love when men are like this.....#fragile masculinity be gone!
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steve’s always been kind of hush hush about his home life. part of him is ashamed to admit he probably gets hit by his dad or yelled at. he’s being a baby anyway. he’s supposed to be stoic and cool. he’s not supposed to cry over a little bumping around from his old man. so he pushes it down and doesn’t tell anyone. until they’re about twelve or thirteen and soda just sees him on the curb outside his house for the first time he thinks ever. he’s got a black eye and a visible handprint on his cheek, though he’s holding a slab of frozen meat he managed to snag before running out. he’s never really told soda the whole story…shoot, the whole reason they became friends in the first place was because they were two “troubled” young boys who were usually having to stay in for recess together because of soda’s not understood impulsivity and steve’s anger issues, but nobody knew where those anger issues came from.
he just breaks down before soda can say anything and gets up to run off before soda grabs a hold of his shoulder to get him to stay and wait and just talk a minute…and he does. by hid he tells him everything. the messy divorce, how he became a cheap prize between his parents because both of them wanted custody over him, the abuse from his dad, the constant hitting and luring back with the promise of money and maybe a home cooked meal…something that certainly wouldn’t have been able to cover or make up for the years of emotional ahd physical abuse…
and everything just makes sense. steve’s anger. his unwillingness to show the slightest bit of negative-or as he dubbed it, “weak” emotions. the way he’d usually try to buy soda dinner or something after a heated argument. it all clicks. and all soda can do is hold in his own tears as his normally emotionally “well put together” friend breaks down in his arms
#steve has so much potential guys#steve’s also probably the one with the most overlooked emotional trauma/the most overlooked abuse victim#in my head steve has such a fragile masculinity mindset because of his father and how he. was shaped growing up#his dad was probably really harsh with him and his emotions and would tell him to “quit crying” because “men don’t cry”#which when i think about him breaking down after johnnys death-that must’ve been REALLY hard on him#steve has so much to work with and he’s such a key part of the story- if he wasn’t a part of the gang they wouldn’t be togehter as a gang#a family so to speak#every member of the gang keeps that gang together#it isn’t only one of them that’s the glue-if one of them was gone/didn’t exist then the whole gang would crumble#rant over my bad lol#the outsiders#steve randle#sodapop curtis#tw abuse
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humans really saw sexual dimorphism and said "hey that's really cool, let's expand on that" and made an artificial version of it (strictly enforced gender roles based on what kind of junk a person is born with) on top of the baseline dimorphism.
#gender#trans#transgender#gnc#gender nonconforming#that should do it for tags. time to ramble#can i just say that this system has gone so far off the edge that if people exhibit even slight deviation from these rigid and miserable#roles that they go through so much scrutiny?#i hate it. even outside of nosy conservatives clutching their pearls#there's so much scrutiny when someone experiments with anything outside of#cookiecutter male or cookiecutter female#even black nail polish which is the most neutral nail color. its still a giant fucking alarm bell#for society. im a closeted transfem and i can't even put on black nail polish without worrying about everyone around me#throwing a tit fit. it should be worrying to everyone that everything is so tightly and ruthlessly gendered.#there's something to be said about exactly how fragile masculinity is (as in literally fragile. even the slightest bit of “femininity”#causes intense scrutiny)#as much as i am definitely NOT a man I do feel bad for them#they walk such a precarious tightrope and anything “feminine” can cause society to shame them and shove them back#into that narrow tiny box
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What about jj saving rafes gf instead of Sarah when she falls off the boat? Even though jj and Rafe hate each other
of course babes! sorry this took a while, i hope you enjoy! :)
𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕
warnings: not proofread, language, slight angst
wc: 2.4k+
Before you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, you were a Pogue through and through. You grew up with JJ and John B, learning to boat, fish, and work hard for the things you wanted. Life was simple but full, with endless summer days spent on the water and nights filled with laughter. When Pope and Kiara joined your crew, it felt like your family was complete—especially since having Kiara around meant you finally had someone who understood what it was like to be a girl surrounded by all that chaotic, masculine energy.
But things changed when you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. At first, it seemed impossible. A Kook and a Pogue? The idea alone was laughable. Yet, against all odds, there was something magnetic about Rafe—a spark you couldn’t ignore. And to your surprise, he felt it too. It wasn’t long before stolen glances turned into secret meetings, and those meetings turned into something deeper. But every step closer to Rafe felt like a step away from your childhood friends.
Sure, it was fine when John B started dating Sarah Cameron. But when you got with the older Cameron sibling, it was a problem. Rafe’s constant harassment didn’t help your case. Sarah was much kinder than her brother, and the Pogues saw her as someone who genuinely cared for John B. Rafe, on the other hand, had a reputation that preceded him—a volatile temper and a knack for trouble that made him nearly impossible to trust. Except when it came to you. Your presence seemed to calm the storm in his mind.
Choosing Rafe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that you stopped caring for the Pogues. In fact, you still loved them fiercely, even if your paths had diverged. Being with Rafe meant walking a tightrope. While he harbored a burning hatred for your old crew, he knew better than to act on it—because hurting them meant risking you. And losing you was unthinkable for Rafe, who had grown to see you as the one thing anchoring him in his stormy world. But even his restraint couldn’t erase the tension. The Pogues saw your relationship as a betrayal, and you feared they’d never forgive you.
Now, you sat alone on the edge of a boat, staring out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic as it stretched endlessly before you. The journey to Morocco wasn’t one you’d ever imagined taking. But here you were, caught between two worlds, trying desperately to keep the peace. It was your idea to bring Rafe and the Pogues together for this mission. You’d convinced Rafe to help them track down Groff, who had made off with his money, knowing it could also give JJ and Pope a chance to evade capture. Even if you weren’t close anymore, you couldn’t bear to see the people you once called family thrown behind bars.
But, as expected, not everything had gone to plan.
The Pogues didn’t trust Rafe—and for good reason. His track record spoke for itself. As soon as they got him on the boat, they tied him up in the tiny bathroom, keeping him under lock and key. You understood their logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to see your boyfriend treated like a prisoner. Worse still, they’d forbidden you from seeing him until you reached Morocco. You didn’t fight them on it. Confrontation had never been your strong suit, and besides, you knew better than to argue with JJ when his mind was made up.
So, you sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull, the salty breeze brushing against your face. The solitude of the sea was both comforting and suffocating. It gave you time to think—about the choices you’d made, the people you’d hurt, and the fragile balance you were struggling to maintain. You wanted to believe this trip could be a turning point, a chance to bridge the gap between Rafe and the Pogues. But deep down, you knew the odds were slim. Trust was hard to rebuild, and the wounds on both sides ran deep.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you let out a weary sigh. All you could do now was wait—for land, for answers, for the moment when everything would inevitably come to a head. Until then, the sea was your only companion, its endless expanse reflecting the tangled mess of your heart.
-
Sarah was kind. She always had been. Even after all her brother had put her through, she still cared for him enough to make sure he was fed and hydrated. She did the same for you.
“Brought you some dinner,” she said, plopping down beside you.
“Thanks,” you responded softly. You took a few bites of the sandwich she brought you before putting it aside. Your appetite had been wearing thin the entire trip.
“I think it’s stupid too,” she said, looking out at the horizon while the late sun cast bright ripples on the calm water.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “The whole Kook versus Pogue thing. Rafe’s done his fair share of bad shit, but haven’t we all? I really think he wants to help this time.”
“He does,” you said. “All he wants is to get his money back from Groff. He doesn’t care about the crown. Honest.”
“I know,” she said, offering you a soft smile. “We’ll be there soon. Try to rest.”
You pondered her words as she walked off. You weren’t overly close with Sarah. It was almost as if you and she had swapped lives. You started seeing Rafe around the same time Sarah and John B got together, and for the last three years, she’d been getting a taste of life’s adventures while you enjoyed the finer things. You loved Rafe. You were in love with him. You couldn’t imagine being without him. But you often found yourself missing the life you once lived with the Pogues.
You cringed as you swallowed one final shot of whiskey, a vice that did close to nothing to take the stress away. You tossed the bottle to the side and rolled over, closing your eyes and trying your best to relax to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Eventually, you were lulled to sleep, dreaming of Rafe. He smiled as he took you into his large arms, and you felt secure in his warm embrace.
The dream was short-lived, though, as you were thrown roughly against the hard wall of the boat. Disoriented, you struggled to find something to grip. Rain lashed against your face as the boat pitched violently from side to side.
You made your way to your feet and took in your surroundings. The storm had hit fast. You could see movement inside the helm as the Pogues scrambled to navigate the chaos and secure the boat.
“Rafe,” you whispered, your breath hitching. “Rafe!” your voice rose into a frantic scream as you stumbled toward the helm. You knew you had to find him—if he was left unsecured, he’d drown.
“Y/N, get inside!” JJ’s voice cut through the storm. You turned to see him and John B holding the door open, JJ’s hand extended toward you. You reached for him, but another violent wave threw you to the deck.
“Where’s Rafe?!” you yelled, coughing as salty seawater stung your throat.
“Kiara’s getting him!” John B shouted back.
Moments later, Rafe appeared in the doorway, drenched but alive. “Y/N!”
Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, but your joy was short-lived. A massive wave loomed on the horizon, crashing into the boat with terrifying force. You screamed as the water dragged you off the stern, the world disappearing into a churning abyss.
“Y/N!” JJ and Rafe shouted in unison.
“Rafe!” you screamed, fighting to keep your head above water. The sea clawed at you, threatening to pull you under. “Rafe! Help!”
“I’m coming, Y/N!” JJ’s voice rang out as he dove into the water after you.
“JJ, what are you doing?!” John B yelled, trying to hold Rafe back from following. “JJ, no, no, no!”
But it was too late. JJ had already disappeared beneath the waves.
“Y/N!” Rafe’s scream was raw with desperation, tears streaming down his face. John B had never seen him so unhinged, so consumed by fear.
John B pressed his hand firmly against Rafe’s chest, forcing him back inside. “Come on, man! We can’t help them if we drown too!” he yelled over the howling wind. He shoved Rafe into the cabin and slammed the door shut.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe sobbed, pounding his fists against the wall. “I have to go help her! I have to find her, man!”
“Rafe!” Sarah’s voice cut through the chaos as she wrapped her arms around him. “Rafe, it’s okay! Let’s just get to land. I’m sure they’ll find their way back!” She rubbed his back as he crumpled, his sobs echoing through the small cabin.
-
The water finally calmed as you and JJ struggled onto the sand, every muscle in your body screaming with exhaustion. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the relief of solid ground beneath you was overwhelming. Collapsing onto the beach, you coughed violently, lungs burning as you fought to catch your breath.
“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his voice ragged between gasps for air.
You nodded weakly, words feeling like too much effort. After a moment, you managed to rasp, “A-Are you?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Minutes passed as you both sat in silence, trying to steady your breathing. The ocean stretched out before you, dark and infinite, illuminated only by a pale sliver of moonlight. A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts turned to Rafe—his face, his voice, and the uncertainty of whether you’d ever see him again.
“They’ll be okay, Y/N,” JJ said softly, his tone more reassuring than he probably felt. “At first light, we’ll head down the beach. We’ll find them.”
You nodded, swallowing back another wave of emotion. “Hey, Jayj?” Your voice was barely audible.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you murmured, gratitude lacing every syllable.
He turned to you with a tired but genuine smile. “Can’t kill a Pogue, right?”
The next thing you knew, the sun was warming your skin, its gentle rays coaxing you back to consciousness. The once-violent sea was calm now, its rhythmic waves bringing an unexpected peace. You stretched, muscles stiff and aching, before glancing toward the shore.
JJ was standing near the water, absentmindedly dragging his foot through the sand. You rose to your feet, brushing off grains of sand stuck to your damp clothes, and made your way over to him.
“Hey,” you greeted softly.
He turned, offering you a small smile. “Hey. Sleep okay?”
“Guess so,” you chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I passed out.”
“Not surprising,” JJ said with a shrug. “You were pretty wrecked.” His tone was light, but concern lingered in his eyes. “I was thinking we head up the beach toward where the boat was headed. If they made it to land, that’s where we’ll find them.”
You winced at the word if, the uncertainty slicing through your chest like a blade. “Okay,” you replied firmly. “Let’s go.”
For the next 45 minutes, the two of you trudged along the beach in silence, your shared determination a quiet bond. Every step brought a mix of hope and dread as you scanned the horizon for any sign of your loved ones.
“You know,” JJ said suddenly, breaking the silence, “they’re probably feeling the same as us—like they might never see us again.”
You shook your head, gripping tightly onto hope. “We’ll find them, Jayj. We have to.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “We will.”
A few more minutes passed before you gathered the courage to speak again. “JJ?”
He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Do… Do you hate me?” The question felt heavy on your tongue, dredging up years of unspoken tension.
JJ’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. “No, Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.”
His words caught you off guard, and you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “It just… it felt like you did.”
JJ’s voice softened as he continued. “I was hurt. You were my best friend, and when you and Rafe got together, it felt like he stole you away. From me. From all of us.”
A tear slid down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. “I’m sorry, Jayj. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said firmly. “All you’ve ever done was try to keep the peace. I should’ve seen that sooner. And last night, when you fell off the boat…” His voice wavered, and he looked away. “All I could think about was how I couldn’t let you die thinking I hated you. You’re my sister, Y/N. You always will be.”
Tears blurred your vision as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. JJ hugged you back tightly, resting his chin on your head.
“I love you, Jayj. I’ve missed you so much,” you whispered.
He pulled back, his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna fix this. All of it. I’ll even make an effort with Rafe if it means getting you back.”
An hour later, the sun was high in the sky when you spotted movement in the distance.
“J, is that them?” you asked breathlessly, shielding your eyes with your hand.
JJ squinted at the figures. “Let’s find out,” he said, quickening his pace.
As you got closer, the shapes grew clearer: Sarah’s golden hair, Kiara’s familiar stance, and Rafe’s unmistakable silhouette towering above the group.
“Rafe!” you cried, breaking into a run.
He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening before he sprinted toward you. The moment he reached you, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.
“Oh my God,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never see you again!” He cried.
“I’m here,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m safe. JJ saved me.”
When Rafe finally pulled back, his gaze shifted to JJ, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion. Without hesitation, Rafe approached him and pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you,” Rafe said, his voice thick with emotion.
JJ stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, clapping Rafe on the back. “Yeah, well… couldn’t let her die on my watch,” he said with a crooked smile.
As you stood there, watching the two men who meant so much to you, hope swelled in your chest. For the first time in years, you felt like things might finally be okay.
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Revolutionary Girl Utena: Gender in Context
beneath the cut, I discuss the RGU's portrayal of gender in the context of 1990s Japan.
in Ikuhara's interview with Mari Kotani, he stated that in traditional Japanese society, "prince" meant "patriarch." the same is true in Western societies--there was a time when a prince would be an heir to a royal line. by 1997, this meaning had died out of large parts of the world. even the association between princes and traditional masculinity was fading. Saionji, the weakest, most pathetic man in the show, is a parody of historical Japanese masculinity, with his kendo and his blatantly regressive beliefs about women.
in RGU, prince may still mean patriarch, but in a far more subtle fashion. Ikuhara and Kotani discussed the changing expectations for men in the latter half of the 20th century--it became gauche to fight over a woman with one's brawn, so instead, power struggles were played out in the arena of looks and sex appeal. one can see this reflected in the character Akio, whose power as a prince arises from his ability to turn "easy sensual pleasure based on dependency" "into a selling point with which to control people."
Akio has his moments of showboating masculinity, but when preying on Utena, he operates by making himself seem non-threatening and soft.
not only that, but he purports to want to allow students to express their individuality and thus approves of Utena's masculine form of dress. this is a front--by the end of the show, he's telling Utena that girls shouldn't wield swords. thus, through Akio's character, the show argues that traditionalist patriarchy in Japan isn't gone, but instead has only been papered over with false progressivism.
with all that said, there seems to be more to the character. he's taken the family name of his fiance, Kanae, and whatever material power he has in the school is dependent upon her family. in Japanese society, this is considered a humiliating position to be in, something that only a shameless man would do. the show never gives the audience any insight into how Akio feels about this--is he unbothered entirely, or are his actions against the Ohtori family an expression of his repressed anger? does he harm the children under his care to compensate for his humiliation?
this aspect of Akio's character may seem irrelevant in light of the larger, immaterial social forces at work in the show. however, I would argue that it was included for a reason. Akio, despite his status as ultimate patriarch of Ohtori, is in fact a highly emasculated character, to the point where lead writer Enokido even said that he is driven by an infantile mother complex.
to explain why Akio was portrayed this way, we have to discuss Japanese history. the nation suffered a major defeat in WWII and was forced to accept whatever terms the United States laid out for it. for an examination of how the Japanese have never truly processed those events and have plunged into modernity with reckless abandon, I recommend Satoshi Kon's Paranoia Agent. to sum it up briefly, in a very short period, the nation regained its economic footing, and by the 1980s had the largest gross national product in the world. this economic boom may have allowed Japan to maintain a sense of sovereignty, dignity, and power, but it was inherently fragile.
the infamous "bubble economy" lasted from 1986 to 1991. during this time, anything seemed possible; financial struggles appeared to be a thing of the past, and capitalist excess reached new heights. the ghosts of this period can be felt across Japanese media; for instance, think of the final shot of Grave of the Fireflies (1998), where the two dead children look down on Kobe, glowing an eerie green to imply its impermanence. the abandoned theme park from Spirited Away (2001) is explicitly referred to as a leftover from the previous century, when many attractions were built and then tossed aside in a few short years.
the bubble popped in 1992, leaving an entire generation feeling cheated. the bright futures they'd been promised, which had actually materialized for their parents and older siblings, had been lost to them overnight. economic crises are often accompanied by gender panics. to quote from Masculinities in Japan, "The recession brought with itself worsening employment conditions, undermining the system of lifelong employment and men’s status of breadwinners in general. The unemployment rate was rising, and although it never reached crisis levels, men could no longer feel safe in their salaryman status. Their situation was further complicated by the rising number of (married) women entering the workforce."
with this in mind, Akio's character can be taken as a representation of masculinity in crisis in 90s Japan. he's forced to rely on women for his position in life and has failed to save his only relative, Anthy. he tries to escape his misery through hedonism, perhaps an allegorical representation of how men tried to maintain their old standard of living after the economic bubble burst.
but of course, Akio is not the main character of RGU--the story is about girls. mangaka Yamada Reiji discussed the series in the context of the 90s, stating the following:


while I opened this essay by discussing the prince, the same points could be made about the princess. despite the increasing irrelevance of royalty, princess is still an important concept. how does it relate to the socioeconomic landscape of the 90s?
in Yamada's view, RGU is full of relics of the 80s; for instance, the figure of the ojou-sama, an entitled young woman who never lifts a finger for herself. during the economic bubble, it was increasingly common for women to be entirely taken care of by the men in their lives. Yamada names Nanami as a clear ojou-sama type character: she weaponizes her femininity, demanding to be rescued, doted on, and served.
however, by 1997, the ojou-sama could no longer expect to get what she wanted. from the 80s to the 90s, the percentage of women in the workforce increased around 15%; it was no longer viable for most women to be "kept" by their families. as the men experienced the humiliation of not being able to provide for their wives and children, women were undergoing a disillusionment of their own.
Yamada blames Disney for creating the ideological structure which led women astray. obviously, the company is known for its films about princes rescuing princesses. in Yamada's recounting, during the 80s, the company was infiltrating Japan through its theme parks as well; across the country, Disneylands were opening up, and people were buying into the escapism the corporation offered. Japan, as America, became a country of eternal children. its people were waiting for a prince to appear and save them.
but fairy tales can't stave off reality forever. Yamada claims that RGU embodies the rage of young women who woke up one day and realized that they had been raised on a lie. this anger pervades the work from beginning to end.
though RGU was created in a particular social context, its lessons can be extrapolated to any time and place. as the first ending tells us:
I hope this essay helped provide more context for the series. thanks for reading!
#rgu#commentary#revolutionary girl utena#this was originally a part of another essay but i revamped it and added a lot more detail
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Personality of your future spouse - Pick a pile
Pile 1/ Pile 2




Pile 3/ Pile 4
Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!
Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!
How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!
I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!
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Pile 1:
(The cards I got for you guys - 6 of swords, king of wands, 4 of pentacles, king of swords and 9 of wands)
Okay so the first thing i heard and feel is they are quite chatty or like to talk a lot, or travel a lot too when they are sad or not happy with circumstances at hand, They are also very masculine and dominant, like a leader or very bossy, They are also quite outspoken like they won't be quiet, if they see something which doesn't sit right with them, they might tend to not indulge in things which are holding them back, they are quite a problem solver, their advise and wisdom is to die for, they will speak right thing at right time, they might be extrovert too, but they will balance you out well, they like to move forward, they are comfortable in their own skin, they might have had a time or phase where they didn't like how they looked and how they were but time changed them now they comfortable in their own skin, and they try to make other person very comfortable as well, they are not very judgemental, for some of you guys travelling is so prominent, like your future spouse goes to different place, experience different cultures, try different food, it's a part of their personality, they also seem very mature regardless of their age, their situation might have caused them to grow early, they might like to go out or have fun in adventure parks, greenery, they also like to run or keep themselves in shape, for some of you your future spouse seems like a computer geek, they have a very unique and very charming personality, they attract people both genders towards because of their unique sense of humour and personality, they have transformed very much in their lives, for some of you your future spouse has gone through so many changes, hardships which caused them to where they are, they also seem very focused and determined, if they want something they will get it type of attitude, "i heard failure doesn't scare me, not trying enough does" spoken like a real business man, they seems very wise guys, they are also very seductive and sexual , like they are secure in their body, they don't have fragile masculinity, they are very respectful towards people and others, they might not seem to show emotions very well, but you will know they care for you, their action speaks louder than words, they are also quite private about their personal life, they won't be spilling secrets to everyone, just to someone who are close to them, they are also very quite protective and jealous, they won't like anyone clinging onto you, let it be anyone even a pet, like "they are mine", they will make sure the other person knows, you are with them, their temper is calm unless someone provokes them, then they are like they don't even see who is in front of them, they won't hurt you, but their anger is quite bad if someone gets on their bad side, they also seem bit materialistic, because off their past, i feel, they also seem very logical and intellectual a great person to talk to and spend rest of your lives with, they don't take betrayal easy, they might cut off people easily, they sometimes tend to hang on past or just look back at things that has happened but they try not to do that, they know its only gonna waste time and nothing can happen, but they also get proud of their growth, quite confident, they also seem hardworking independent and the person who stands their ground very well, they also don't care what others think of them. They also seem very passionate.
Honestly? They are wonderful! You guys are lucky and so is your future spouse!
They could be fire and air sign in their big 3 or 6. Especially Sagittarius or Aries, or might be you guys as well. Or they can have fire or air midheaven.
Pile 2:
(The cards I got for you guys - 4 of pentacles, king of cups, 9 of cups, 5 of swords, The hanged man and page of cups)
Okay so the first thing i felt they wear heart on their sleeves a very honest and open book type of person, they are emotionally mature in tune with them, knows what they want in a person, so forget the fear of mixed signals, because your future spouse will tell you thousand times they want you, give you reassurance, the love you want and desire. They are the kind of person who would not like people eyeing you, very protective some of you can say over protective, but don't be scared they are not controlling but just scared to lose you, because you mean so much to them, they tend to think they are not enough for you and end up overthinking and becoming jealous, and honestly in a good way, i don't feel any negative and ill intentions from them, they tend to give you the world and love you want they won't be like refusing you, they will make sure your needs have been met, they are self sufficient too, and has a good job too, they seem very soft and loving, as i said an open book, so they won't hide things from me, they embrace their both sides, in bed they can be a switch, or be very versatile they tend to make you feel at home and very comfortable, their energy is calm, even while doing your reading i felt sleepy, very soft spoken and soft person, they also seem very curious to learn new things, they might have trouble saying no or might be you as well, They have a good heart, they don't like to cause pain to someone if they end up hurting someone , it will affect them too, they are quite sensitive too, they don't like conflicts they rather avoid having them, they also seem very loyal and honest, i heard "I will die for you queen", i also heard they are very caring towards environment, they will cherish you so much, they might sometimes take things to their heart, they are very sincere too, values honesty a lot, They also seem to have spiritual side, or they seem lucky in money or financial department, they tend to get anxious at times, like at time of conflicts it doesn't seem to suit them, i also feel their manifestations comes easily to them and they just don't realize it , for some of you they could be very religious, they might just be also lucky in general, they also have a tendency to win, or have competitive side to them, when it comes to their profession or you, they are very laid back to or might like procrastinate at times, for some of you your future spouse could be very lazy or just like to sleep in, very attractive and young personality, or they seem younger they might look young or have a heart of child, pure they seem to be very charming, can be quite flirtatious without realizing it, i heard "was it a coincidence, we met?", "i don't think it was i have dreamt of you so many times yet i can't remember you", wow, they just gave me something for you guys.
Your future spouse seem like a sweetheart honestly, so loving, love it for you guys!
Their possible zodiac signs could be - water signs in their big 3 or 6 especially Cancer and Scorpio , or for some of you - earth signs or they can have a water midheaven.
Pile 3:
(The cards I got for you guys - 7 of wands, 3 of cups, The empress, Temperance, knight of cups, 3 of swords, 5 of pentacles and the star)
Okay so the first thing i felt was they are quite hardworking, for some of your future spouse could be workaholic and they have so many responsibilities and burden on them, They tend to overthink a lot, they are quite righteous and stand up for people who have been wronged, they like to earn but with their strength and hard work, they also seem kind of serious but warms up when you know them, they like indoors, they might be ambivert and they seem very adaptable, they tend to find happiness in small things around them, their might be someone they are close to or helped them come out of their shell, they tend to have many people or friends but only few of them seem genuine, they also could be teacher or have that teacher personality they like to correct you or tell you things teach you stuff, they might be quite experienced in bed, they also seem very focused and determined to get things done, they don't like to left things on tomorrow, more like do it now, they also seem to like to have parties or small celebration with their loved ones, as i said small things can make them happy and small things can make them angry too, they really seem to focus on self and self growth, i heard "self - righteous person", they have so much to give, the love, the things to their loved ones, their love language could be act of services, they tend to meet their friends or pals a lot, they don't like to do flirting or leading someone on, they are very nurturing and caring too in touch with their feminine side, they also seem to love kids, or they might be good with them, they are financially abundant too, but all because of their hard work, they don't like people who are very codependent, they will care and open up but at their own pace, for some of you they could have a water venus, they are good and caring boyfriend as well as husband, they are also very balanced, or have became balanced, after the traumatic or bad experience in past, but that's for another thing and pac, i won't go in details, but i also feel they got their heartbroken or for some of you they broke someone's heart, but later they now realize their mistake and respect people's emotion, they also seem very gentlemanly, or charming person, they are quite a listener more than a talker, for some of you they like to things slow or for some of you they are quite forward, for some of you they might had trusted wrong people in their friendship or business or work, they seem to be vulnerable too, but with right people, not with everyone if you earn that, they love you, i also feel for some of you they might have brought up in poverty, but now they are doing very much better now and has good job or money, or had a hard time when they were kid or younger, they value for things and money, as i said very caring, i also feel their aura is quite healing or they might work in medical field. They might at time be judgemental or jump to conclusions too, but nothing too bad. I also they are quite happy, when they achieve their desire goals.
They seem like chill person honestly! love it for you guys <3
Their possible zodiac sign in big 3 or 6 - Scorpio, cancer, Gemini, Libra or Virgo and Capricorn, Aries or Leo too.
Pile 4:
(The cards I got for you guys - Wheel of fortune, 6 of cups, 9 of pentacles, strength, the star, king of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 5 of wands and 10 of pentacles)
Okay so wow the first thing i heard and feel is they are quite the provider or has that let me do it energy, for some of you, your future spouse is very mature, they seem very lucky and have things on their fingertips when they need it, if their is a situation they don't like, the situation seems to improve on its own somehow, they believe in "time is precious don't waste it" very understanding, and have figured out their life purpose, they seem to move forward, for some of you your future spouse seems introvert, but they like to move forward in their own way, they like to win and go ahead, they also feel loved when someone appreciates them and shows them with their actions, they might like to read as well, like self help books, or might be you guys, but they seem into reading anything news, articles, they likes to be updated on political affairs, or what is happening around them, "i also heard timid and shy" so for some of you might be that at first, they created their own fame and luck type of vibe i am getting, they also has a very transformative personality, or went through changes, they might have lost someone young a pet or someone close to them, a grandparent, but all the changes and ending has made your future spouse stand on their own which makes sense why they are very wise or mature, you guys can check pile 1 too, i somehow got similar messages for pile 1, your future spouse personality is very interesting honestly, sweet, spicy and calm, love that vibe i am getting, they seem to like and feel nostalgic things, for some of you animals or helping people make them happy, they seem very sweet, they like to help people and go beyond for that, they might like flowers or nature a lot, they are also quite very independent, and self secure, like they know they are good, they don't need someone's opinion, they value facts or honesty, for some of you they are quite confident, they have worked hard and has achieved their goals, as i said they created their own fame self made person, they are brave , courageous and very spiritual too, they like to believe in old myths too, not a blind follower don't worry, they are quite focused and determined to make their life a better for themselves and others, they believe in equality, They will go to lengths to protect their loved ones, their love is healing, their personality is healing so maybe they have at times attracted broken people in their life, they like to go with the flow, they don't let people treat them as pushover either, in past for some of them could have been, but now it's very different for them, As i said they changed a lot, they definitely are a sugar daddy very rich guys very rich, they might also like to have everything their heart desire let it be anything, when they love they love very deeply, they are also very possessive over their materialistic things and their loved ones, "its mine, so its mine" no one gets to have it, but in a good way, its hot honestly, they are self build and for some of you they have gotten inheritance or comes from old money, they might have been close to their grand parents, i also feel they have stress or they take sometimes too much work pressure which causes them to have inner conflict with them, but they are learning with time, They are also very practical and logical a very much problem solver, they are quite ambitious too and love to work on their goals.
Your future spouse is a package <3, good for you guys!
Their possible zodiac sign in big 3 or 6 - Earth signs especially Capricorn.
Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3
#tarotcommunity#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot cards#pick a card reading#pick a pile#thetarotwitchcommunity#diviniation#futurespousereading#future spouse#pac reading#love reading#pick a tarot#witchblr#divine guidance#spirituality#meditation#pac#astro community#astro notes#astrology#kpop pics#astro observations#pick a picture#pick a card#spiritualgrowth#free tarot readings#bts#intuitive readings#pick a photo
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The Dreaming of Anthy
I like to interpret the events of the Revolutionary Girl Utena as a universe comprised of a patchwork of metaphors. Almost like the fantastical events that occur at Ohtori Academy are a dream, or many dreams, stitched together from the real experiences of the demographics that each character represents. Saionji’s dreaming is the dreaming of the male victims of patriarchy, seeking true companionship but cursed to never have it as long as he upholds the values he’s been taught. Juri’s dreaming is the dreaming of the “girlboss”, the women who, seeking success and legitimacy in a patriarchal world, perform patriarchal masculinity themselves, not realising or not caring that they are perpetuating the system that made life difficult for them in the first place.
Anthy’s arc is the most surreal out of everyone’s, and it makes sense to me to read what happens to her as an analogy for a more real experience. Who is the demographic that dreams Anthy?
When I first started watching Utena, and saw the dark-skinned, violet haired prince come down from the castle, I was so sure that the prince Utena met in her youth was a pre-transition Anthy. Even when Akio was revealed I was still so sure of this interpretation, because all the themes seemed to point to it, especially Anthy’s performance of hyperfemininity at the expense of her oppression and abuse.
So when all is finally revealed in episode 34, I was honestly disappointed. Right up until the Prince was shown in the same room as Anthy, I believed they were the same person.
But I’ve spent a lot more time thinking about Utena since I first saw that episode, and now I believe this theory more than ever. The key is that all three of them, Dios, Anthy, and Akio, are the same person.
Dios is both a metaphor for the myth of perfect masculinity, and Anthy’s pre-transition self. There has been talk of a “crisis of masculinity” since forever ago, and as Alex Avila puts it:
Maybe masculinity has always been in crisis and will always be in crisis. We will never save or recover traditional masculinity because traditional masculinity depends on a perpetual crisis state.
He can do everything. He’s strong, gallant, noble. He can save every girl, all of whom are implied to be helpless without him. And he’s gone — he only exists in the past, despite Ohtori being portrayed as frozen in time. Ohtori is the perpetual crisis state. “Men aren’t like they used to be anymore.” And at the same time, he’s the memory of a trans girl’s past. Like the idealised but fictional imaginings of the “masculinity of the past”, he never existed (but she did). He is the memory of the desperate struggle to perform an idealised masculinity that kills the girl performing it.
He lies dying in the shack. Anthy, the girl in their head, says, you can’t do this anymore. You’ll die — I’ll go out there instead. So she comes out. And she tells the people they will never see Dios again. “I’ve sealed him away (in my mind).” Transition can often feel like killing or sealing away the pre-transition you (just look at I Saw The TV Glow).
And because she took away the people’s idealised vision of masculinity, because she showed them how fragile it is, how malleable gender is, by transitioning, she is crucified. She is persecuted for shattering the illusion of masculinity. But, she lives. Transitioning caused her immense suffering, but it was suffering of a new kind. Suffering she could live with. Suffering that brewed resentment. Suffering that coloured her understanding of the world. As she lives with the suffering, the boyish ideal of Dios becomes corrupted.
しかも、彼女を愛した王子はもはや彼女の知る王子ではなく。結局、世界の果てになってしまった。
And now, the prince she loved is no longer the prince she knew. Not anymore. He has become the End of the World.
Through her transition, and as she grows and learns more about what it is to be a gendered adult and what it is to be a woman, her conception of ideal masculinity becomes patriarchal, oppressive and cruel. Dios becomes Akio, the End of the World. But it has ever been thus: Ohtori is eternal, and Akio has always been there to oppress. Remember, the memory of Dios is a false one.
Anthy’s hyperfemininity is mirrored by Akio’s hypermasculinity. The more Anthy finds solace in femininity through submission, the more Akio, the patriarchy, finds power through domination. To Anthy, to be feminine is to be oppressed. So Anthy needs Akio to live with herself, to be feminine, which is why and how she creates him through her transition.
Anthy is the dreaming of the trans girls who, seeking to express their true self, feel the guilt of strengthening the norms of the gender binary. A girl shouldn’t have to wear makeup (but I have to, to pass). A girl shouldn’t have to act quiet and demure (but if I don’t, my identity will be invalidated). I know this feeling well, because Anthy is my dreaming. And Utena is the opposite. Utena is the dreaming of the people who seek to expand the idea of what their gender can be from the inside rather than putting themselves in a new box. Utena is the dreaming of the girls who say “A girl shouldn’t have to wear makeup (and I won’t!)”, “A girl shouldn’t have to act quiet and demure (AND I WON’T!)”
I don’t believe the show portrays Anthy’s dreaming as bad and Utena’s dreaming as righteous. I think it portrays Anthy as stuck in a loop of self-punishment, made torturous by external persecution. The patriarchy is not Anthy’s fault, but she will be tortured (or allow herself to be tortured) as long as she believes it is, and as long as her conception of femininity requires the torture.
In the end, it’s their love, and the lessons they can teach each other, that save both of them. The show doesn’t say “Utena saves Anthy”, it says “victims of the patriarchy can be very different and express their rage and rebellion against the patriarchy differently, but they're in this together and they can teach each other so much.” Anthy learns how to be a woman without contextualising herself against patriarchal masculinity, and with that, she can finally leave Ohtori.
#media analysis#utena analysis#rgu#sku#revolutionary girl utena#shoujo kakumei utena#gender#trans#feminism
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Ethereal Vulnerability
... Dean and Sam on their way to save you
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader
Summary: You grew up poor and alone, forcing you into the horrible red light district. However, your services were darker than the usual stuff, and lately your colleagues went missing. It only took a booking for two men to save you from being next.
Note: I was heavily inspired by the movie „Sleeping Beauty“. It has such an interesting plot and I loved the eerie vibe. This might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Still, I hope the few of you will enjoy this! If this gets a good reception, I’ll write a 2nd chapter.
Content: reader being sex worker, sleeping pills, getting drugged, spn violence, angst, disturbing content
Word count: 1,2k
Another day, another forced shift.
Another day where men exploited women’s bodies, wielding their money as a weapon of control. You despised the system, but there was no room to complain as you depended on that same system for survival. For money, which you needed so desperately.
This here was a cruel structure that demanded obedience from young souls, only to discard them when they were used up or gone entirely. And worst: no one cared about them.
No one cared about you.
You stepped into the motel, offering a polite nod to the secretary while avoiding the missing persons flyers plastered on the reception desk. Six women. Six lives snuffed out, their bodies never found. As if they had simply vanished into thin air. The media ignored it, and the authorities seemed indifferent.
Who cared, after all? They were only prostitutes in the eyes of the world.
And you were stuck in this helpless situation with no one to guide you into safety or a usual life.
Despite the fear that you could be next, you continued working. Rent was due. Food was scarce. Death seemed inevitable either way, so you clung to the fragile hope that you’d survive just one more day. Maybe a rich man would adopt you - or maybe you’d get a big tip for your extraordinary “work“.
“Here you go,” the secretary said, sliding something under the glass partition. “Two men booked you for the whole night.”
You nodded, pocketing the room keys and picking up the small cup containing two familiar pills. The bitterness of the sleeping tablets didn’t faze you anymore. You were used to the dreamless nights, to the numb void that came with them.
Still, it never stopped being unsettling.
You’d sleep through it all.
But maybe it was a blessing: not seeing their faces, not feeling their hands on your sorry body and not hearing the things they would say about you. This was the only business letting women sleep through, advertising to a certain masculine fetish.
“Thank you,” you replied with a small smile, taking the items.
The secretary hesitated, her expression tinged with guilt. “Be careful, love.”
“I will.” You forced another smile before heading to the changing room.
The other women were already there, each one stunning in their own way. No flaws, no imperfections. The only requirement to work here was to embody an impossible ideal: flawless beauty, free of scars, blemishes, or even a stray hair. You were all gems, polished to perfection in the dirtiest setting imaginable.
You changed into the white lingerie, adjusting it to hug your curves just right. After fixing your makeup and offering yourself a final look in the mirror, you sighed deeply. Fear clawed at the edges of your mind, but you steeled yourself with a faint hope… you just had to make it through the night.
The room was surprisingly luxurious, a contrast to the grim reality outside. Warm lights bathed the space in a soft glow, and the bed was adorned with blankets that felt like clouds. This level of comfort was a cruel irony, considering the cost that came with it.
You sat on the edge of the bed, swallowed the pills in one go, and slipped under the covers. It wasn’t long before the drugs pulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The door opened quietly sometime later, two figures slipping inside. They moved with practiced precision, shutting the door softly behind them.
“Man, this is one hell of a weird gig,” Dean muttered, glancing around the room with a mixture of unease and frustration.
„You’re not wrong,” Sam agreed, his gaze settling on your sleeping form. “She’s completely out of it. Has no idea what’s going on.”
A heavy silence hung between them, tinged with disgust - not at you, but at the circumstances.
“We’ll take this bastard down without her even knowing,” Dean said, circling the bed to get a better look at you. “After this, the girls around here should be safe… well, from monsters, anyway.”
He stared down at you, his jaw tightening. How could someone so beautiful, so full of life, end up in a situation like this? He hated the world that had left you with no other choice. It felt as if he was glancing at a doll, not a human.
An hour passed as they waited, watching the shadows lengthen across the room. They pitied your job and chatted a little about it, while Dean didn’t even to bother touching you in any way. Your soul had been tarnished enough.
After another five minutes, Dean sat tensely by the bed, while Sam stepped out to execute their plan. He told the secretary he was grabbing something from the car, leaving Dean to hold down the fort.
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the soft rhythm of your breathing. Dean’s mind churned, his eyes flicking to the door every few seconds. They didn’t even know what they were hunting yet, only that it was dangerous and starving.
The door creaked open, breaking the silence. Dean’s hand went to his weapon instinctively, but what stepped inside wasn’t Sam. It was a woman or at least, it appeared to be.
But the way she moved was wrong, her presence too eerie to be human. The lights stayed off as she glided toward the bed, her gaze fixed on you.
Either it was a vampire, or one of the rather rarer creatures - Pishtaco. Creatures that were as gruesome and cruel as vampires but they feasted on fat, not blood.
Just as she reached for you, the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked into place. Sam stood behind her, his expression grim.
“No way you’re getting out of here,” Sam said, his voice low.
Dean rose from his seat, his silver knife in his hand. “You picked the wrong motel, sweetheart.”
The creature hissed, its facade slipping to reveal its true form; its grotesque hunger evident in its hollow eyes.
Meanwhile the haze of unconsciousness began to lift, pulling you back to reality. The pills were too weak, it seems your body got used to them. Your eyelids felt heavy. Slowly, you stirred, your body sluggish and weighed down, as if you were moving through quicksand.
"Hey, she's waking up," Dean’s voice reached you, rough and laced with concern. Shit, that’s couldn’t be happening. You woke up during the wrong time.
Your eyes opened, the dim moonlight shining through the room. Dean was leaning over you, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the room.
Sam stood nearby, his posture tense but his expression kind. "How is she feeling?"
Your voice came out as a rasp. "Tired… sore." You tried to push yourself up, but Dean’s firm hand on your shoulder kept you grounded.
What was going on? And why where they holding weapons?
"Easy," he murmured. "Just rest."
You nodded weakly, your head still pounding, but a creeping unease was beginning to gnaw at the back of your mind. Something felt... off.
Dean stiffened instantly, moving between you and the woman. "Stay there," he ordered.
The pishtaco stepped closer, her movements slow, and unnervingly graceful. Her gaze locked onto you, and a chill ran down your spine.
"You shouldn’t have interfered," the beast said, her voice smooth as silk but dripping with malice. Her eyes flicked to Dean and Sam. "You have no idea what you're up against."
Dean scoffed, his stance widening. "Lady, we’ve taken down worse than you. You’re not walking out of here."
The Pishtaco laughed softly, the sound unnervingly melodic. "You don’t understand. I was only taking what I needed. She’s just another meal. But you… you’re getting in the way of nature."
"Nature?" Sam said, stepping to the side to cut off her retreat. "You’re murdering innocent women to feed your appetite. That’s not nature… that’s a monster."
Her expression darkened, “No one cares about those prostitutes. So why not taking them?“
Before anyone could react, she lunged toward the bed. Her speed was unnatural, a blur of movement that sent your heart racing.
Dean grabbed her mid-lunge, shoving her back with a grunt of effort. "Get out of here now!" he screamed at you, but your body was frozen in fear, unable to move.
You weren’t just bodily restricted but also high from the pills, making it hard to grasp what’s happening.
The Pishtaco hissed, her face twisting into something grotesque. She clawed at Dean, her nails slashing dangerously close to his face.
Sam dove in, wielding a silver blade, slashing at her side. The Pishtaco roared, spinning around to swat him away like he weighed nothing. He crashed into the dresser, yelling but alive.
Dean didn’t hesitate. He tackled the monster, slamming her against the wall.
"You’re not touching her," he insisted, his green eyes blazing with fury.
But the Pishtaco was stronger than she looked. With a growl, she twisted out of Dean’s grip and darted toward you. Her claws dug into your arm as she yanked you towards her, dragging you toward the door.
You felt so vulnerable and weak. Like a play toy.
"You want her? Come and get her!" she spat, her voice venomous.
You cried out in pain as her grip tightened, her nails digging into your skin. Crimson blood run down your revealed body, soaking your lingerie into a rich red.
"Fuck," you mumbled, your head spinning terribly.
Dean‘s head snapped toward you, his expression a mixture of rage and terror. "Let her go!"
The Pishtaco laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. "Oh, I don’t think so. She’s mine now. And I will feast on her beautiful fat. You’ll just have to find another way to play hero."
But Dean was already moving. In one swift motion, he grabbed the silver blade Sam had dropped and hurled it with deadly precision.
The blade struck the Pishtaco in the shoulder, and she howled in pain, her grip on you faltering. Dean surged forward, grabbing you and pulling you out of her grasp just as Sam regained his footing.
Again, Pishtaco lunged at you, but Sam interrupted her, driving a second silver blade into her chest. She screamed, her body convulsing from her wounds.
Dean held you tightly against his chest, shielding you from the sight as the Pishtaco let out one final cry before collapsing into ash.
The room fell silent, the only sound your guys ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart.
"You okay?" Dean asked, his voice low and steady, his arms still wrapped protectively around you.
You nodded shakily, unable to find your voice. Your entire body was trembling, but Dean’s presence was grounding. His warmth, his strength… it was enough to keep you from falling apart. As if your life hadn’t been difficult enough.
But what the hell was that?!
"She’s gone," Sam said, his voice weary but certain. "It’s over."
Dean pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cupping your face as his eyes scanned for any injuries. "She didn’t hurt you, did she?"
You shook your head. "No, just my arms… what the hell. This shit was mental. Thank you for…saving me?"
Dean’s lips quirked into a faint, reassuring smile. "Right, we did."
His thumb brushed against your cheek. The intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. A man rarely gazed your way without lust, but admiration.
"You’re safe now," he murmured, his voice softer.
"Well… whatever you define as safe," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Dean’s smile vanished, his eyes remained serious. "Don’t mention it."
Sam cleared his throat, stepping back from the scene. "We should… probably get out of here before anyone notices what happened."
Dean nodded but didn’t let go of you right away. His hands lingered on your arms for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours.
„Alright, we‘ll patch you up…“
The three of you made your way out of the room. Dean gave you his leather jacket to cover your bare body, and you couldn’t help but glance at Dean. Perhaps there were men who didn’t abuse your vulnerable position.
The way both had protected you, the way Dean had looked at you… it stirred something deep inside you. He didn’t view you as a mere prostitute but as a woman worth saving.
For a moment, you didn’t feel dirty and used.
And judging by the way his hand brushed yours as you walked, it seemed like he wanted you out of that business.
#supernatural dean#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#sam and dean#dean winchester#supernatural#spnfandom#spn fanfic#spn
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Toby leaned back in his armchair, watching the scene unfold with a subtle, satisfied grin. It was all going according to plan.
Liam sat on the edge of the bed, his usual slim, twinkish frame now transformed into the tall, muscular body of Jake from the gym. Liam was still adjusting, his hands hesitantly running over his brawny, sculpted pecs and down to the hard ridges of his abs. The buzz cut and short beard were alien on him, a stark contrast to the thinner, softer features he was used to seeing in the mirror. His new bulk dwarfed the bed, yet despite the transformation, he remained passive, sitting obediently, still wearing the collar and chastity cage Toby had locked him in.
Toby smirked as he observed Liam’s reaction. There was no denying who he truly was—his submissiveness was obvious, no matter how intimidating his body now appeared.
"How do you feel?" Toby asked, his voice calm but commanding, as he stepped closer to his transformed slave.
Liam looked up, those innocent, submissive eyes still the same despite his new, imposing form. "Good, Sir. Really good," he said quietly, his voice deeper now, more masculine, but the tone remained soft, eager to please.
Toby’s grin widened. "You look good," he said, running his fingers over the collar on Liam’s thick neck. It was slightly too tight now, digging into the muscular flesh.
Meanwhile, across town at the gym, Jake, the former owner of that hulking body, was in the middle of his workout. He’d just finished a set of heavy deadlifts when the world suddenly spun around him. He blinked in confusion, his vision briefly blurring. When it cleared, his body felt lighter. His massive hands were gone—replaced by much slimmer ones. He looked down and his eyes widened in horror. Where there should have been thick slabs of muscle, there was now smooth, pale skin and a much smaller, more fragile-looking frame. His previously tight gym vest was now comically loose.
“What the—?!” Jake stumbled backward, his heart racing as he ran his hands frantically over his new, thin body. He was shorter, much less muscular—everything about him had changed. His once bulky, athletic physique had been replaced by this slender form. Panic set in as he touched his now bare, smooth face.
Toby was very pleased with himself for this idea. The swap had been perfect—Jake had been an arrogant prick and now his slave Liam has his body. While Jake was trapped in Liam's submissive, twinky form. The chaos that was surely erupting in the gym amused Toby to no end, but it was Liam who had his immediate attention.
Despite the new muscles bulging under his skin and the powerful build he now possessed, Liam remained just as obedient, just as eager to serve. Toby leaned down, gripping Liam’s chin between his fingers, lifting his head slightly to meet his gaze. “You know what’s happened?”
Liam nodded, his lips parting in a soft breath. “Yes, Sir. You’ve given me this body.”
“And are you happy with it?”
“Yes, Sir. Very happy.”
Toby chuckled darkly. “Good.” He released Liam’s chin and patted his head in a mockery of affection. “Because you’re still mine. You may look like Jake now but you’ll never be anything more than my obedient little slave.”
Liam’s lips curled into a small, submissive smile. His muscles may have grown, but his spirit remained unchanged. Toby liked that about him—the contrast between the imposing physique and the compliant soul beneath.
"Stand up," Toby ordered.
Liam rose to his feet. His new body towered over Toby, but the dynamic remained the same. He looked down at his master, a mixture of awe and adoration in his eyes.
"Flex for me," Toby said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Liam complied, raising his arms and flexing his biceps. The muscles swelled, rippling under his skin. He glanced at his own arms, clearly amazed at the size and power they now held, but he waited for Toby’s approval.
"Good boy," Toby murmured, stepping closer, his hand grazing the bulging muscles. "You’ll do nicely like this."
Toby leaned in, his lips brushing against Liam’s ear. "You’re going to make an impressive display for me. A big, strong body, but completely under my control. Just the way it should be."
Liam shivered in pleasure, completely content in his new form, happy to be whatever Toby wanted him to be. Even with the muscles, even with the height and strength, his place was at his master’s feet.
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any dewey fluff hc ? love your work 💜💜
light up your heart, so i can see you shining !

☆ thinking abt dewey + fluff hcs . . .
☆ dewey (alnst) ,, gn reader . . reader and dewey's relationship is left up to interpretation ,, silly fluffy and domestic headcannons all thrown into a pot and mixed together to create something for the starving dewey fanbase (i'm apart of that fanbase...) ,, other characters are mentioned (isaac).
first off, dewey gives the most comforting hugs. maybe he'll squeeze you a little bit too tightly inbetween his stupidly beefy arms, but the way he holds you is enough to release all of the tension from both your body and your mind. if he rubs your back with the palm of his hand, the motion is soothing — if he pats your back, though..
yeah, he's not patting, he's knocking some of the air in your lungs right outside. but that's okay! he still gives some of the best bear hugs.
dewey, as a whole, just makes for a great pillow. and he doesn't complain either so long as the two of you are relatively close. you can rest your head on his chest and it'll feel like your head is resting against the fluffiest clouds known to man. but no, that's just the physical evidence of dewey's dedication to his workout routine.
speaking of workout routine, dewey would love it if you ever accompanied him to the gym. regardless of whether you're exercising too or just watching him as he goes about his routine, dewey enjoys the company. he isn't against the notion of teaching you a few new things about working out if you're not as well–versed in that domain.
the only way dewey knows how to comfort someone during a sorrowful moment is by being his authentic self. in other words, trying to cheer you up and by extension lighten the mood with whatever silly stories he can recall and share or with whichever joke comes to mind first. dewey is naturally quite the amusing individual, and it does work wonders.
but sometimes you don't want him to make you laugh. sometimes you want to spend some time with him in total silence, and dewey's okay with that too. is he a remarkably quiet person? no, he isn't, but when he can sense your distress signals that call out to him and tell him what it is that you need, he's willing to do his best.
even if you're not feeling down, dewey will lounge around in your vicinity and will hold back from exchanging one too many words with you if that's what you prefer.
if you prefer the opposite kind of hangout, dewey automatically becomes one of your favourite people to go out with — he always has something new he wants to try out, another adventure he wants to go on or some silly shenanigan he can pull off to piss a couple of people off. (isaac).
believe it or not, dewey's masculinity isn't fragile. therefore, he'll allow you to doll him up if you feel like doing so. he'll sit still while you turn him into a pretty princess, puckering his lips when you're about to apply lipgloss or lipstick on them, looking up when it's time to put some mascara on.
he would absolutely play along and act like the typical, girly and over–dramatic young female antagonists you always see in cartoons and similar pieces of media. hell, dress him up for extra accuracy! good luck finding something with that princess pink vibe that's going to fit his physique, though. at least you can give him a cute purse..
completely off—topic, but dewey is one of the greatest hypemen the world has ever seen. there is no such thing as feeling insecure when you know dewey. he does an effortless job at making you feel comfortable and proud in your own skin, causing your confidence to skyrocket despite being at its lowest not that long ago.
with dewey around, you feel safe. he's like a big guard dog whenever the two of you are out and about — no creepy individual has ever tried approaching you on the countless times you've gone out with dewey, because he can notice their stare even if they're far behind and on the other side of the road. a warning glare is all he needs to express for said individual to give up on whatever it was that they were going to do.
well, 'warning glare' is an understatement. realistically, dewey would pull out one of the most ridiculous scowls and probably warn that person not to come any closer or try anything funny via.. certain gestures. so long as you don't notice the silent exchange, everything's fine!
despite initially mistaking him for some himbo who has more brawns than brain, dewey is actually someone who you value more than you ever thought you would. and, of course, he values you too. more than words can express.
#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4dewey#alien stage#alnst#alnst x reader#dewey alien stage#dewey alnst#dewey alien stage x reader#dewey alnst x reader
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……free use jimmy. Jimmy who’s always got a half chub around you and when you ghost your hand over it he lets out a whimper (super embarassed about it and probably tries to play it off as a cough). Jimmy who who likes to bite and scratch and have mean rough sex but he’ll kiss you afterwards and tuck his face in your neck (it’s his way of showing affection and aftercare). Jimmy who gets limp dicked bc of meds so you grind against his meat until you both cum…Jimmy who steals your underwear and huffs it like a fucking drug while jacking the skin off his dick. JIMMY.
oxy youre killing me.
i always agonize over whether to answer in second person or first person but FUCK IT im selfship brained rn. but anyone can take these for themselves 👍
i cant imagine how down bad and in love and fully trusting jimmy’s gotta be to be FREE USE like what a vulnerable position to let himself be fucked whenever kyahahaha but he’s always half hard around me thinking it could happen at any time… i like the idea of him loving being my little whore 😊😊😊 let go of that control baby ill make you feel good….
ive never been really into the idea of being on the receiving end of rough sex until jimmy man fuck i want him to bite me and mark me and pin my wrists i think id let that man choke me. no i WOULD let him choke me. that man fucks HARD when he’s being mean, god… and to get his sweet kisses after, cuddles, his face in my neck almost like he’s thanking me…
imagining coming to his place and finding out where all my panties have gone what a perv i like the idea of him not only smelling them but cumming into them. taking them home and washing them fuck theyre still perfectly good panties and he would absolutely get off on seeing me wear them knowing he’d jerked off into them. and i also like the idea of tying him up and riding him and putting my underwear over his face fuck he’s gotta be busting so fast
basically i think he’s a switch even if he doesnt realize it yet, we’d have the best switch sex life ever. i think he’d be into electrostim, giving and receiving. it can feel good or it can hurt and he would love being in control of it. and love it more after knowing what both ends of the spectrum feel like when he lets me have the controls. like i think he’s the kind of person who absolutely loves being in power but i love the idea of jimmy who’s comfortable enough to make himself vulnerable and let someone have power over him as well.
i think a quite a bit of his fragile self worth is tied up in sex and masculinity so being unable to get it up hits really hard, even though the meds help he’s really fucking self conscious if he’s even worth it as a partner anymore so i think having someone who still wants him so bad they’re willing to grind on his soft dick until they both cum. yeah he knows he’s hit the jackpot. fuck he’s so in love.
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Can we do multiples for this? If so, #8 and #12 for Drarry please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
Sure!
8. Unpopular opinion about them
I am not a fan of drarry being depicted in canon universes as either 'cool masculine action hero harry'/'damsel in distress fragile draco' or 'sweet but kinda dumb and blundering harry'/'calm cool and collected ice prince draco' or 'enemies who still loathe and distrust each other postwar to very reluctant openly hostile allies to lovers.' All these dynamics are fine if you want to read/write them but the thing is...at least to me...they aren't drarry. And by reducing the characters to those dynamics you end up missing out on a lot of the nuance that makes the characters special and the ship interesting and you kinda flatten them into something pretty generic.
Contrary to popular fanon Harry is not dumb. He was supposed to be in Slytherin for a reason. He's very clever and observant and resourceful. And while he can be very kind and compassionate he also can be deadly when he needs to be and has a real temper that many people, even those close to him (though interestingly not Draco), can find intimidating at times. Draco also is a very good Occlumens and definitely matures a lot, but he's also not someone who is innately cold and dignified, much as he might wish to be. He's hot and firey and emotional too - just like Harry - but presents that in different ways. And yes in later books Draco often overcomes and masters his fears and emotions - because he has to - but it's not easy for him, and sometimes it all comes bursting out. And that makes him interesting and complex and human.
However Draco is also not a fragile damsel in distress. By the end of the series he is no longer the sheltered boy who once dramatically claimed to be "dying" because Buckbeak scratched him. He's been branded with the Dark Mark, been tortured by Voldemort himself, and used Unforgivables on others in turn - even if under duress. He's had to survive living with Voldemort and his followers in his house while he and his family were out of favor and virtually defenseless. He showed himself to be far more clever and resourceful than many would have given him credit for during book 6. In book 7 despite knowing intimately the terrible fate he was likely condemning himself and his family to if Harry & Co escaped, he didn't reveal the fact that he saw Ron & Harry had freed themselves from their bonds in the cell and didn't identify Harry and his friends, which bought them the time they needed to get away. He also held his own in a duel against Harry - who is extremely skilled - due to his quick reflexes, powerful magic, and strong ability to use nonverbal spells. Draco is tough and powerful in his own right, especially after the war and wouldn't just collapse into frightened hysterics at the slightest danger or find himself unable to fend off an angry group of younger students during 8th year.
He and Harry are equals and foils and parallels and opposites all at once. That's what makes their dynamic so interesting. They can stand up to each other and they never are afraid of each other - even when logic says they should be - and their skills and abilities and temperaments are extremely complimentary.
Also I love a good 'toxic dark bitterest of foes to lovers' fic but again, that doesn't feel like postwar drarry. They couldn't bring themselves to hate each other at the height of the war. Harry spent most of book 7 worrying about Draco. Draco risked everything for Harry at the Manor. They're not going to suddenly start a bitter feud after all the pressures pitting them against each other are gone. Postwar Draco would feel guilt and regret over his actions. And Harry, who lied for Draco after the Astronomy Tower Incident in book 6, is unlikely to suddenly decide he's angry Draco didn't end up in Azkaban. (Which is not to say he might not be suspicious of or curious about Draco's activities - but it wouldn't come from a place of hatred or openly vicious aggression.)
What's so fascinating and unique about this ship is that for all they are rivals and later enemies on the opposite sides of a war they don't hate and distrust each other the way you'd expect. Yes there's enmity and hostility. Yes they have to fight each other sometimes. But they also understand each other so deeply. And whenever one of them is actually in danger they always, always save each other.
It is this complex and contradictory relationship that makes them so interesting to me. And so unique compared to a lot of other ships and ship dynamics.
(I also wrote about an unpopular opinion for Draco here.)
12. Crack headcanon
There was a 7 year long 'will they or won't they' betting pool among an ever widening circle of students traumatized by having been subjected to their shenanigans.
Send me a character/ship from any fandom and a number.
#asks#drarry#hpdm#Harry Potter#Draco Malfoy#ask game#send asks anytime. i love reading an answering them
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will you hold my purse?
how the jjk men would react when you ask them to hold your purse. ib this tt starring: gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, & ryomen sukuna guest appearance from choso kamo

Gojo Satoru
This diva would hold it as if it were his purse to begin with – no shame whatsoever, utterly unbothered by anyone else’s fragile masculinity. He would proudly wear it under his arm – to the point that your purse gets confused as to who its original owner is. He’ll get sooo into character that if someone got too close for comfort to him while you’re gone, he’d shriek like a little girl and whack them over the head with said purse. Total princess behavior.
Even if the person was only passing by, he assumes the worst of them: they’re trying to steal your handbag.
And to your shocking dismay, when you return from the restroom you’re met by an innocent man laid out on the floor – all while the culprit continues to slander him with false accusations. You had to drag him out by the ear so he’d put a stop to his tomfoolery, but even then he continued to act a fool.
Safe to say you got kicked out of the restaurant and you’re both no longer welcomed. Your purse still under his arm, he clutches it tightly and ‘humpfs’ – head held high and nose tilting towards the roof to put emphasis on his sassiness.
“Your breadsticks were stale anyway!” he yells out to the closed door behind the two of you as he tosses an imaginary strand of hair over his shoulder. The tiny bag had given him an infinite amount of cheekiness – as if he didn’t have enough of that already.
Too bad if you really liked that purse, because it didn’t belong to you anymore.
Toji Fushiguro
He’ll look at you weird, baffled as to why you trust him with your purse in the first place. How naive of you, really. The thought of rummaging through it and stealing your valuables goes through his mind, but decides against it – you were both equally broke anyways. He’s not afraid of your purse, but he won’t wear it on display – so he throws it over his shoulder nonchalantly, one hand on his hip as he whistles while he waits for you to be done with your business.
Eventually the wait gets far too boring for his liking, so he begins to dig through your purse, not to take anything from you – even though he was tempted to do so – but to entertain himself. And just as he expected, he found so much useless crap. Gosh, you were such a disorganized person. Not to mention you had like a year's worth of tampons in your bag. what the hell woman?
Taking advantage of the business opportunity, he stands outside the ladies bathroom and begins to “offer” tampons to the passing ladies. Not for free, of course; his benevolence came at a price: $5 a tampon.
When you overhear women giggling and fawning over a handsome man being a “girl’s girl” outside, you immediately knew. You were inclined to smack him silly, but his logic behind the whole ordeal was so stupid that you were afraid he’d get dumber than he already is.
“What the hell are you mad at? I just bought us lunch, woman.”
“Yeah, with MY tampons. That’s literally blood money, you insolent shit.” you reprimand him, furiously snatching your purse back from him.
And you continued to scold him over some nice hotdogs. His treat, according to him.
Ryomen Sukuna
“Hell no.” He doesn’t hesitate to turn down your absurd request, crossing his arms over his chest in refusal. The fact that you were incapable of multitasking baffled him, so much so that he began to deem you incompetent from that moment on. But you were literally pissing your pants so you just shove it against his chest and sprint to the nearest restroom.
To no one’s surprise, he allows the purse to fall to the ground, completely unbothered by the thing. And yet, he would glance down at it to make sure it was still there while you were gone – but not daring to touch it.
Once you had returned, though, he began to kick the thing around so that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up. He barked in laughter every time you thought you would finally get it off the ground – only for him to kick it around some more.
“Serves you right for trying to boss me around,” he roars.
All you wanted was for him to hold it for a few minutes, and now he had you playing ball with your own purse. It was quite amusing to him regardless.
Choso Kamo
Being the teeth-rotting sweet man he is, he’ll nod an infinite number of times – his face lighting up that you actually entrusted him with such an important task. Eyes gleaming with nothing but excitement, he’ll relentlessly clutch it over his chest with both hands, looking from side to side every other second to make sure no one tries anything with your purse. To anyone passing by, he’d look like a sweet grandpa taking care of his beloved’s tote while she freshens up.
A group of girls happen to stumble upon the sight, taking notice of the man holding the bag as if his life depended on it. Because of how defenseless he seemed, they almost thought he was lost – so they approached him and asked him that.
“I’m holding my girlfriend’s purse while she runs to the restroom,” he replies shyly, completely unsure how to handle these types of situations – he’d never been left alone without you before.
The girls find his actions so adorable that they compliment you for having a boyfriend like him by your side. But that was before they had walked away and you had noticed Choso’s red-stained cheeks from how much they had been pinched prior to your arrival.
“Please don’t leave me alone ever again.” He pleads, not wanting to relive something like that during the spawn of his life.
You’d be better off taking him into the restroom with you next time.
#⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ʜᴏᴛ ᴍᴇɴ ɴᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ .ᐟ#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#choso kamo#choso fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru x reader#satorugojo#sukuna ryoumen x you#reader x sukuna#jjk x reader#choso x reader
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Something fragile
Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N
Warnings: Toxic masculinity, cursing, violence, alcohol drug use, cursing, mentioning of sex, I think that’s it? ...
Side note: English isn’t my first language
Words: 6600
*Does not follow the boys storyline *

--
Soldier boy just got out of Russia thanks to the boys. But his journey back to reality has been fucked up. Streets are filled with rainbow colours and new pussy looking heroes. Streets were even more crowded, nothing seemed the same anymore. And to top it all off he had some severe ptsd and a new superpower.
After the explosion he ran to recover his blackout, meeting y/n a young woman on her way home from volunteering at the veteran shelter. Seeing how he looked confused, offering him help.
--
Ben, known to the world as Soldier Boy, stumbled through the bustling streets of downtown New York. The sun was blinding after so many years in the dark, cold confines of a Russian facility.
Forty years of captivity had left his mind in a haze, his body in a state of perpetual tension. Every sound, every face, was an assault on his senses. He blinked against the garish lights of electronic billboards and the incessant buzz of smartphones.
People moved past him in waves, their faces buried in glowing screens, oblivious to the world around them. Ben felt like he had stepped into a dream, a strange, incomprehensible dream. As he walked, his eyes darted from one unfamiliar sight to another.
Men holding hands, walking side by side with easy intimacy. Ben's lips curled into a reflexive sneer. He couldn't help it; the world he had known was gone, replaced by something that felt alien and uncomfortable.
The 1980s had their problems, but this? This was beyond his understanding. He rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the headache building behind his eyes. The memories of his captivity were like shadows, lurking at the edges of his mind, ready to pounce the moment he let his guard down. He had to stay focused, had to keep moving.
As he passed a café, the smell of coffee and pastries wafted out, mingling with the scents of car exhaust and city grime. Ben's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten a decent meal in ages. He paused, glancing around warily, wishing he had a few dollars in his pocket.
Lost in thought, a voice pulled his attention away from the widow. "Excuse me, are you okay sir?" Ben looked up to see a young woman with concern in her eyes. "Yeah" He wanted to walk on. “Are you eh, hungry or thirsty something?” Ben looked confused at her. “I can get you something if you want?” she added in a sweet voice.
“Let a woman buy me a fucking coffee? What a fucking pussy would that make me.” and he walked on.
Ben continued down the street, the sights and sounds of the modern world were overwhelming, a constant reminder of how much time had passed and how out of place he was. As he walked, a familiar melody reached his ears. It was faint, but unmistakable, the haunting strains of a Russian folk song that had played endlessly in the lab where they had experimented on him.
The song was a cruel reminder of his years of suffering, a soundtrack to his nightmares. His pulse quickened, and his vision blurred. The world around him seemed to tilt, and he could feel the panic rising, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The radiation within him, the cursed gift of his captivity, began to stir, responding to his heightened emotional state. Suddenly, without warning, a burst of energy erupted from his chest. The street around him exploded in a violent flash of light and heat. The force of the blast shattered windows, sent cars flying, and threw pedestrians to the ground.
Screams filled the air as chaos erupted. Ben staggered, disoriented and horrified by the idea what he had done. He had no control over this power, no way to stop it once it started. The destruction was immense, and he could hear the wails of the injured and the dying.
His heart pounded in his chest. Y/N heard the explosion and felt the shockwave. She had been walking away from the café, thinking about the troubled man she had just met. When she saw the devastation and the panicked crowd, her first instinct was to help.
She pushed her way through the throngs of fleeing people, her heart racing with fear and determination. She spotted him through the smoke and debris, standing in the centre of the chaos, looking lost and broken. She rushed to his side, her eyes wide with shock at the scene around her.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to touch his arm. The heat radiating from his body made her flinch, but she didn't back away. "I... I didn't mean to..." Ben stammered, over and over. Y/N looked around, her mind racing. She had to get him away from here, away from the people he might hurt.
"We need to get you out of here," she said firmly. "Come with me." Ben nodded, dazed and compliant. He allowed her to lead him away from the scene of destruction, away from the horror he had unleashed. They ducked into an alley, where the noise of the city was slightly muffled, and Y/N took a moment to catch her breath.
"Listen," she said, her voice urgent but calm. "I don't know what happened to you, but you're not alone, okay? I'll help you." Ben looked at her. "Why are you helping me?" "Because you need it," Y/N replied simply. "And because everyone deserves a chance."
Ben nodded slowly, the weight of his guilt and fear still heavy on his shoulders. Y/N supported Ben as they walked through the quieter streets, her arm around his waist to steady him. His weight pressed heavily against her, but she didn't falter. She was determined to help him, no matter what it took.
The path they took was familiar to her, one she had walked many times on her way to the veteran help centre where she volunteered. The centre was closed at this hour, but Y/N had a key. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before unlocking the door and guiding Ben inside.
The cool, dim interior was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a sanctuary from the madness of the world. "Sit here," Y/N said softly, helping Ben into a chair in the small break room. She quickly moved to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the cupboards.
She handed them to Ben, who took them with trembling hands. "What's this shit?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. But still opening the drink. Y/N sat across from him, ignoring his muttering complains, watching as he opened the bottle and took a sip. She could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the lines of pain and weariness that spoke of years of torment.
"You're safe here," she said gently. "Take your time. Eat something.” Ben’s eyes fixed on her. He unwrapped the granola bar and took a small bite, chewing slowly. The simple act of eating seemed to ground him, to bring him back from the edge.
"Why are you helping?" he said after a moment. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough," Y/N replied. Ben leaned back in the chair, the weight of his ordeal starting to lift, if only slightly. He looked around the room, taking in the posters on the walls, the pamphlets about support groups and therapy sessions.
His expression hardened, and he scoffed. "What kind of shit is this?" he muttered, pushing the granola bar away. "A place for vets who have difficulties getting back to the real world." Y/N answered ignoring the disgusting look on his face. "For who can’t handle their crap? PTSD, trauma... that's for fuck-ups who can't cut it. Real men don’t need this kind of help."
Y/N sighed, her patience unyielding. She had encountered this attitude before. She knew it was a defence mechanism, a way to mask vulnerability. "What's your name?" He didn't answer, "I'm Y/N..." she said hoping he would be willing to answer if she took the first step. "Ok doll." was all he said, she didn't push further.
"PTSD is real. It doesn’t make you weak or a 'fuck-up.' It means you've been through something traumatic, something no one should have to face alone." Ben’s eyes flashed with anger. "I've faced plenty alone and survived. Don't need a bunch of pity and hand-holding to get by." "
I’m not offering pity," Y/N said firmly. "I’m offering support. There’s a difference. Some have been through hell, and it's okay to need help coming back from that." Ben clenched his fists, the tension in his body palpable.
"You don't get it," he snapped. "I was a soldier. I fought, bled, and survived on my own. This..." he gestured around the room “... this is for people who can't handle the easy world." Y/N met his gaze steadily.
"Maybe you did survive on your own, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it alone. Needing help doesn’t make you less of a man. It makes you human." He looked away, the anger in his eyes giving way to something more vulnerable.
"You don't know what it's like. What they did to me..." "No, I don't," Y/N admitted. "But I do know that what you're feeling is valid. And that this place exists because too many people try to do it alone and end up hurting themselves or others."
Ben shook his head, "Bullshit" Y/N looked him in the eye. "Is it? Didn't you just blow up in the middle of the street? Literally?" He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for some kind of hate or reluctance, maybe even fear but all he saw was reassurance, patience.
Ben stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His movements were restless, his mind clearly in turmoil. He began to walk toward the door, but Y/N called after him, her voice gentle but firm.
"Wait. If you ever feel like talking, or just need a place to be... I'll be here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Other days, there are other people who can help if you don't want to talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone."
He paused at the door, glancing back at her. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just nodded curtly and walked out into the night. The next day, Y/N was cleaning up after a session, stacking chairs and tidying the break room. That day had been busy, and she was exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired, the kind that came from helping others.
She was lost in thought, reflecting on the day’s work, when she heard the soft chime of the bell above the door. "We're closing," she called out over her shoulder. "The next session is tomorrow." There was a pause, and then a familiar voice responded. "It's me... Ben."
Y/N turned around, surprised but not displeased. Ben stood in the doorway, looking uncertain but determined. He seemed a little more composed than the day before, but the haunted look in his eyes was still there. "Ben..." she said, offering a warm smile. "I'm glad you came back. Come on in."
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here " he admitted. Y/N nodded, gesturing to one of the chairs. "Have a seat. I was just finishing up, but I’m here if you need to talk."
Ben sat down, his movements still a bit stiff. "I don’t know where to start." Ben settled into the chair, looking around the room before finally meeting Y/N’s patient gaze. “Where you feel like.” He seemed to gather his thoughts, taking a deep breath.
“Everything’s different now,” he began, his voice tinged with frustration. “The world... it’s nothing like what I remember. People, technology, everything’s changed. It's like I don’t recognize it anymore.”
Y/N nodded, her expression encouraging him to continue. “I mean, look at the way people are glued to their weird portable phones,” Ben continued, gesturing vaguely. “No one talks to each other face-to-face. Back in my day, if you had something to say, you said it. Now, it’s all that small shitty thing. And the clothes people wear… men walking around in clothing, colours I wouldn’t have been caught dead in.”
He paused, running a hand through his hair. “And don’t even get me started on the way people talk about feelings. PTSD? Trauma? In my time, you just sucked it up and got on with it.”
Y/N listened attentively, her expression understanding. She knew better than to interrupt; sometimes, people just needed to voice their frustrations. “Even the food is different,” Ben continued, his tone a mix of incredulity and irritation.
“Everything’s organic, gluten-free, plant-based crap. What happened to a good old-fashioned burger and fries? And the music… nothing like the rock ‘n roll I grew up with. It’s all electronic noise now.”
He shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I feel like I don’t belong here. Like the world moved on and left me behind. I was a soldier once, a fucking hero. Now, I’m just...” Y/N waited a moment to make sure he was done before she spoke.
"How long were you gone?" Ben's eyes locked on her, ignoring her question and stood up to leave. Y/N called after him. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?" He turned back to face her, his expression guarded.
"No," he admitted. "I didn't need much sleep since I got back." Y/N frowned, concern etched across her features. "You need a place. There’s a motel nearby. I can arrange a room for you, but only if you agree to come to the sessions here every week."
Ben laughed, a rough, humourless sound. "You’re really something, you know that? Since when are woman making deals like that. But alright, I need a place. I'll come to you for sessions. Only you, no one else."
Y/N nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Deal. Every Friday?" Ben smiles looking her up and down while licking his lips. "Sure doll... I see you on Friday." "Tell the motel owner I send you."
Next Friday
Y/N waited anxiously at the centre for Ben to arrive. She checked the clock repeatedly, her concern growing as the minutes ticked by without any sign of him. Finally, she decided to head to the motel to check on him.
When she reached his door, she knocked firmly. After a few moments, the door opened, and she was taken aback to see an elderly woman standing there, looking slightly embarrassed. "Excuse me," Y/N said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I’m looking for Ben. Is he here?"
The woman glanced back over her naked shoulder, and Ben’s voice called out from inside. "Just in time doll, why don’t you join us." Y/N stepped into the doorway, seeing Ben sitting on the bed naked with a mirror filled with powder in his hand.
“Oh my...” Y/N turned around covering her eyes seeing the woman quickly gathered her things, brushing past her as she left the room in a hurry. Y/N’s heart sank as she saw the mess inside and the unmistakable signs of a night spent with company.
Ben sat on the edge of the bed, looking unrepentant. "To what do I own this suprise," he said with a smirk. “We had an appointment, remember?” She glanced over at him. “Can you please cover up?” He said looking up at the ceiling.
"Yeah about that talk, I don’t need your help sweetheart. I just needed a good fuck and something to calm me down." Y/N felt a wave of disappointment and concern. "Ben, this isn’t the way to deal with what you’re going through. You said you’d come to the sessions."
He scoffed, standing up and moving closer to her, putting on dirty sweatpants. "They’re for people who need a shoulder to cry on. I’m not one of them. But if you really want to make it up to me for scaring off my company, you could always... continue where she left off." He nodded to his crotch.
"Stop right there," Y/N cut him off, her voice firm and filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "I’m here to help you, not to be manipulated or disrespected. You’re better than this, Ben. I know you are."
He looked at her, a flicker of something, shame, maybe, crossing his face before it hardened again. "You don’t know anything about me."
"I know you’re hurting," Y/N said, refusing to back down. "And I know you’re scared. But pushing people who want to help away isn’t going to help. You need to face what’s going on inside you. Literally!”
Ben clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "I don’t need your pity."
"It’s not pity," Y/N said quietly. "It’s compassion. And it’s a lifeline, if you’re willing to take it. But you have to want to change, Ben. No one can force you." For a moment, the room was silent. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
"Ben, if you're more comfortable, we can keep the sessions here in the motel room. But you have to promise I won't walk in on anything like this again." Ben's smirk widened as he walked closer to her, his eyes dark and intent.
He reached out, his hands gripping her arms and pulling her closer to him. Y/N recoiled, anger and fear flashing in her eyes. "Ben, let go of me," she said firmly, her voice shaking slightly. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, feeling his beard softly scratching, as he whispered,
"Don't take away my needs for women and drugs, or I'll take it out on you." Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to let fear control her. She forced herself to stand her ground, her eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve.
"This isn't a joke, Ben. You need help, and I'm here to offer it. But I won't be intimidated or manipulated by you." For a moment, Ben's grip tightened, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness. When he found none, his expression wavered, uncertainty flickering across his face.
He released her abruptly, stepping back. "Fine," he muttered, his bravado faltering. "We'll have the sessions here. But you better not try to change me."
"I’m not here to change you," Y/N said, rubbing her arms where his hands had held her. "I’m here to help you find a way to live with what you’ve been through. But you have to meet me halfway. See me as, i don’t know, a friend?" Ben looked away, his jaw clenching.
"I don’t need a friend" he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. "Yes, you do," Y/N said softly.
As Y/N turned to leave, her mind racing with concern and frustration. She reached the door, Ben called out, stopping her in her tracks. "Where are you going?" he asked, his tone a mix of annoyance and challenge.
"I want the session now." She looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as he nodded toward the bed. Thinking this was process. "Sit," he said padding the bed next to him, but she hesitated, her gaze fixed on the rumpled sheets that were a stark reminder of what had just happened there.
"No," Y/N replied firmly. "I'll sit over here." She moved to a chair by the small table, positioning herself as far from the bed as possible. "Let’s talk, go ahead." She said, Ben watched her for a moment, sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.
"Fine." He took a deep breath, his expression darkening as he began. "Back in the day, women knew their place. They knew how to treat a man. They'd do anything to please me, anything I wanted. They'd cook, clean, and make sure I was taken care of in bed. They’d do whatever it took to make me happy. They understood what real men need."
Y/N's stomach turned at his words, but she kept her expression neutral, listening intently. "Nowadays, it’s different," Ben continued, a sneer in his voice. "Women think they can do whatever they want. They don’t respect men like they used to. They want to be equal, to have careers and opinions. It’s all bullshit. They don’t know how to take care of a real man. They think they're entitled to everything, without giving anything in return."
He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers, trying to see her reaction. "The women I’ve been with since I got back... they don’t measure up. They’re too independent, too... modern. They don’t understand what a man like me needs. They just complain and whine, instead of doing their job."
Y/N forced herself to stay calm, her mind racing as she processed his toxic words. "Ben, do you really think that’s what relationships are supposed to be like? One person serving the other without any mutual respect or partnership?" He scoffed. "Partnership? Respect? Those are just modern buzzwords. Real relationships are about roles. Men lead, women follow. It’s how it’s always been."
"Does that make you happy?" Y/N asked quietly. "Do those kinds of relationships fulfil you? Or do they leave you feeling empty and alone after they leave?" Ben’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he masked it with anger.
Y/N pushed his buttons just a little more, “Is that why you didn’t want me to leave? Because then you’ll be alone?” Ben’s lip twitched "You don’t know what you're talking about. You’re just another modern woman who thinks she can lecture me about life."
"I’m not trying to lecture you, Ben," Y/N said softly. "I’m trying to understand you. But more importantly, I want you to understand yourself. These beliefs, this anger... it’s not just about the world changing. It’s about you feeling lost and trying to find control in a world that’s different from what you knew."
He glared at her, but didn’t interrupt. "Let’s dig deeper," Y/N continued. "Why do you feel the need of control over women? What are you really afraid of?" Y/N’s question seemed to strike a nerve. Ben’s expression darkened, and he abruptly stood up, in two paces he stood tall, towering over her.
His voice rose as he leaned in close, anger radiating from him. "Why do I feel the need to exert control? What am I afraid of? You don’t know anything about me!" Y/N didn't flinch. She met his gaze steadily, her calmness a contrast to his rage. This seemed to catch him off guard, and he paused, staring at her with a mix of curiosity and frustration.
"Here she is, lecturing men but this little princess is just as big of a fuck up like the men she helps, isn’t she?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Most people would be scared, what did you see that made you a stone-cold bitch?"
Y/N took a deep breath, maintaining her composure, not willing to share her story with him just yet, but he needed something from her to build trust. "I’ve faced fear before, Ben. I grew up as the daughter of a veteran. My father came back from war a different man. He was aggressive, a drunk. He’d beat me whenever he felt like it, accidently killed my mother in front of me while he was high and saw things there weren’t. So no, Ben, you don’t scare me."
Ben’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face, maybe even a little regret. He stepped back, his anger momentarily replaced by something else, perhaps respect, perhaps understanding, perhaps pity. "So, you have daddy issues, poor baby.”
"I’ve had help" Y/N said softly. "But understand this, Ben: I've seen what anger and no control can do to a person. It doesn’t lead to happiness or peace. It leads to more pain.” Y/N stood up, stepping closed to him, toe to toe.
Her eyes were unwavering, her voice firm. "I have patience, Ben. But lose your temper like this one more time, and you'll be alone. Understand?" Ben’s lip twitched in anger. He moved the chair aside, placed his hands against the wall behind her, leaning in close.
"Maybe I should teach you some manners," he growled, his breath hot against her face. Y/N didn’t flinch. She looked him straight in the eyes, her voice steady and cold.
"Go ahead, try it. But understand this: I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life. You think you can intimidate me? You’re wrong. And if you do this, you’ll lose the only person who’s trying to help you. Do you really want to go down that road?"
For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent standoff. Ben’s eyes were filled with rage, but beneath it, Y/N could see a flicker of doubt and confusion. Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped back, a mix of anger and frustration playing across his features.
“Good," Y/N said. "Now, let’s get back to talking. We’re not done yet." - “Oh no, we’re done for today doll.” he said opening the door. She followed him.
Y/N walked through the door Ben held open for her, her eyes briefly and unconsciously sweeping over his toned chest, noticing the small freckles scattered across his skin, similar to the ones on his face.
She took a deep breath, focusing back on the conversation. "Ben," she said, her voice firm but kind, "see my advice as tough love. I'm a friend who wants to help you, not someone you can... fuck around with"
Ben's smirk returned, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Tough love, huh? Never thought I'd hear that from you." Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression unwavering. "Well, get used to it. I'm not here to cuddle you. I'm here to help you find a way to live in this new world, to help you become the person you want to be."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, I get it. Tough love it is." She nodded back, feeling a small sense of victory. "Good. I'll see you next week. Same time." As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her, a mix of curiosity and respect in his gaze.
It was a start, and for now, that was enough. She had made it clear that she wouldn't be pushed around, and Ben seemed to understand that. One step at a time, she reminded herself.
In the following sessions, Ben was more composed. He wore clothing and there were no unexpected visitors, though Y/N could still smell the lingering scent of sex in the air and noticed the traces of cocaine on the mirror beside his bed. Despite these signs, he began to talk more openly, allowing her to glimpse the deeper layers of his pain.
One evening, as they sat across from each other, Ben finally broached a subject he had been avoiding. "My team... they betrayed me," he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. Y/N leaned in slightly, encouraging him to continue.
"Tell me more about that," she said gently. He took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he recounted the memories. "We were supposed to be a unit, a family. But they sold me out. They handed me over to the Russians.”
He took his time to think about his next words. “Forty years, doll. Forty years in that hellhole because of them." Y/N nodded, her expression empathetic. "That must have been incredibly painful, feeling that betrayal from people you trusted."
Ben's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "It was more than painful. It broke me. I thought I could trust them, but they were just using me. And when I was no longer useful, they discarded me. Even my own girl."
"It's understandable to feel angry and hurt," Y/N said softly. "But holding onto that anger will only continue to harm you. You need to find a way to process those feelings, to let go of the pain, if you want to move forward."
He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. After weeks of sessions, Y/N felt they had made enough progress to broach a crucial topic. As they sat in the motel room, Ben seemed more relaxed, though the ever-present tension lingered beneath the surface.
"Ben," Y/N began, her voice steady, "do you want to be Soldier Boy again?" He looked up, startled. "How do you...?" Y/N smiled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I've been listening, the pieces of your story. The details, the hints. I put them together."
Ben's surprise turned into a wry smile. "You're smarter than you look." His eyes roamed her body like they did so often, at first, she felt uncomfortable by it, now she had learned the difference is his looks.
This one wasn’t filled with heat, or not as much, no it was more an appreciation look.
"Thanks, I think," Y/N replied, chuckling. "But seriously, do you want to go back to that life? To being Soldier Boy?"
He leaned back, scratching his beard. "I don’t know. Part of me does. It’s all I’ve ever known. But another part of me wants to kill my old team and move on." Y/N ignored his lasts sentence.
As they continued their conversation, Y/N felt a growing sense of optimism. Seeing Ben was starting to see beyond his past, to consider a future that wasn’t defined by his old identity.
As Y/N ended their session she stood up and placed a hand on his arm. “You did good today Ben, I'm proud of you.” She could see the shock in his eyes, realising no one had ever told him they were proud of him. Not as sincerely like she just did.
Ben’s eyes flickered to her lips and back a few times, so, before he could so something to ruin their bond she turned away. “See you next week.”
Next week
Ben paced the motel room, glancing at the clock every few minutes. Y/N was late. He tried to convince himself that maybe she was just held up, but as the minutes ticked by, anger began to simmer.
Just when he had started to open up, to trust her, she didn't show up. The feeling of abandonment gnawed at him, intensifying his frustration. He threw the table a crossed the room, trying to let go of his anger.
Deep down he knew she was like everyone else, thinking: “Maybe the fact that he was Soldier Boy pushed her away? Fucking pussy, you shouldn’t have told her about your fucking feelings. Man the fuck up!”
By Saturday, his anger had turned into a determined need for answers. He decided to walk by the centre where Y/N volunteered, hoping to find her there, she told him the last weeks she had fulltime hours.
He needed some explanation. As he approached, he saw her at the doors, but she wasn't alone. A man in a suit stood with her, and they were arguing heatedly. Ben's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange.
The man gestured aggressively, his face twisted in anger. Y/N flinched at his movement, just so slight that most people wouldn't notice, but Ben did. Knowing she doesn’t flinch just like that unless...
His anger flared, a protective instinct kicking in. He strode up to them, his presence immediately drawing their attention. "Hey!" Ben barked, stepping between Y/N and the man.
"What's going on here?" The man in the suit turned to face him, irritation clear in his eyes. "This is none of your business caveman, leave." Ben's gaze hardened. "It is my business if you're bothering her."
“Oh...” the man looked at Y/N “This is one of your little projects!” Turning back to Ben. “I’m sorry buddy, but I need to talk to my girl.” Ben looked at Y/B seeing her face twitch at the words ‘my girl’.
“Just go away Peter. We’re done I told you last night.” But then Ben noticed something he hadn't seen before: a faint bruise on Y/N's cheek, barely hidden by makeup. His eyes narrowed, and his chest tightened with anger.
Ben glanced at Y/N, who noticed his eyes on her and looked away, clearly distressed. "Who is this guy, Y/N?" She hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's my ex-boss and... ex-boyfriend."
The man's sneer grew. "We were just having a conversation. Nothing for you to worry about." Ben's eyes flicked back to the man, his anger simmering just below the surface. "A conversation that left a bruise on her face?"
The man's expression turned smug. "She left me because of one little mistake. She needs to learn her place. I’m sure you understand." Ben's chest began to glow faintly, his rage manifesting physically. "You piece of shit."
The ex-boyfriend didn't seem to notice the glow at first, but when Y/N placed her hand on Ben's chest, trying to calm him, she gasped in pain, pulling her hand back with a burn. "Ben, stop!" she cried, her eyes wide with fear and concern.
The man took a step back, finally realizing he was pissing of a supe. "What the hell...." Before Ben could react further, Y/N stepped in front of him, her unburned hand on his arm, pleading.
"Ben, please. Calm down. Don’t let him get to you. This isn’t the way." Ben's eyes met hers, and the glow began to fade as he struggled to control his anger. His fists unclenched, but his eyes remained fixed on the man.
"You’re lucky she’s here. But if I ever see you near her again, I won’t hold back." The ex-boyfriend, now visibly shaken, took another step back. "So now you take care of freaks too?" he muttered. “I hope they can fix your issues.” he added before walking away.
Ben looked at her, opening the door for her so she could get inside. ”Let me see your hand.” Y/N shook her head, “I can take care of myself.” But Ben thought differently, pushing her toward the table, his eyes demanding her to sit down.
Ben searched around the kitchen for the first aid kit, his movements still tense from the encounter. When he found it, he brought it over to Y/N and carefully began treating her burned hand.
"So, you slept with your boss," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of teasing scepticism. Y/N smirked, wincing slightly as the cool ointment touched her skin. "Never thought that was your kink," Ben chuckled, the tension easing slightly.
"I though more in the line of, older man, calling them daddy, spanking your perfect little ass... Guess I’ve still got a lot to learn about you." He looked up at her, seeing her reaction, she tried to hide a smile, the humour lightening the mood.
"It was a mistake," she admitted, her expression growing more serious. "We were together before he was my boss. Things were good at first, but then he had stress, started drinking more, and everything went downhill."
Ben nodded, listening when she finally opened up to him. “I saw my father in him, determine to heal him before he could hurt anyone.” she said looking at his hands gentle as he wrapped her hand in a bandage.
"And then he hit you?" Ben asked without joking about her ‘daddy issues’ - "Yeah," she said softly. "That was the last straw. I couldn’t stay with him after that." Ben finished wrapping her hand, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of concern and respect.
"You did the right thing by leaving. No one deserves to be treated like that." She looked confused at him, he noticed "Just because I think a woman should be at home, cooking for her man, please him doesn't mean I would hit her... unless she likes a little spanking in the bedroom." He winks at her.
She could feel the soft pink on her cheeks burning, "Thanks, Ben," she said, her smile returning. Ben looked at Y/N after taking care of her hand, a sense of resolve in his eyes. "I need to take care of a few things," he said, his voice gentle but determined.
"You won't be seeing me for a while." Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Ben looked at Y/N, concern etched in his features. "Are you going to be okay being alone?"
Y/N met his gaze, her expression softening. "Are you?" He chuckled, a hint of self-awareness in his laughter. "No, not really." She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Me neither."
Y/N looked at Ben, her expression turning serious. "What are your plans?" Ben hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to hers. "I... I'm going to visit an old friend," he admitted reluctantly.
"Someone who can help me get my suit back." Y/N's brows furrowed in concern. "Your suit? Why do you need that?" He looked away again, the weight of his words heavy on his shoulders. "To... settle some unfinished business.” Her eyes widened in alarm. "Ben, you can't be serious.”
"I have to," he insisted, his voice tight with determination. "They betrayed me, Y/N. They left me to rot in that hellhole for forty years. I can't just let that go." Y/N reached out, taking his hand in hers, her touch gentle but firm. "Please, Ben. Think about what you're doing. Revenge won't heal anything."
As Ben and Y/N looked at each other, there was a palpable tension in the air. For the first time, they felt a stirring of attraction, a spark igniting between them. Y/N's gaze lingered on Ben in a way she hadn't before, truly seeing him for the first time.
She noticed the depth of his green eyes, the curve of his full lips, the scattering of freckles across his skin. There was a ruggedness to him, a rawness that drew her in. Ben found himself captivated by Y/N in a way he hadn't expected.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips, imagining the softness of them against his own. He felt a pull towards her, a magnetic force that seemed to draw them closer with each passing moment.
Slowly, almost instinctively, they began to close the space between them. The air crackled with anticipation as their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync. In that moment her hands moved to his cheek, a tender gesture as she pulled him closer and kissed him softly.
He leaned into the kiss, savouring the moment, feeling the soft scratch of his beard against her skin. When he pulled back she kept her eyes closed, she could hear him moving. Knowing what he is going to do.
She heard the door closing, reality crashed back in, and a single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. In the quiet of the room, she couldn't help but wonder why it hurt so much. The sudden ache in her heart caught her off guard, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable.
Her eyes where still closed, her fingers moved over her lips, trying to hold on to the lingering sensation of Ben's kiss.
--
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#jensen ackles#x reader#fanfic#fluff#angst#soldier boy#the boys#jensen fucking ackles#light angst#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x you#jensen ackles soldier boy
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Things about Vincent Valentine that I read around and piss me off.
"Vincent should have done more!"
It is one of the most common observations. And I hate it! What he was supposed to do exactly? Ok, let's take a step back and pretend we're in the real world and not in a fantasy action video game. Vincent was a highly trained Turk and an excellent marksman. That's not enough to say that he was definitely also a cold piece of shit ready to do any job. In fact, I believe that Vincent was the exact opposite of this and that he was not cut out to be a Turk at all. Which is why he got into trouble. "Stern and upright" is how Square Enix describes him, so we're talking about a person who has great morals and a high sense of duty. And these two things don't always go together. To this we must add the naivety he had as a young man (evident in DoC) and his great empathy towards others (which FF VII Rebirth is highlighting a lot). So when Lucrecia decided to use the fetus as an experiment, Vincent found himself in an impossible situation, where morality and duty were at odds. Human experimentation disgusted him, but his role was as a bodyguard, nothing more. His duty was to watch and let the scientists do their work. Furthermore, at that moment no one could imagine what the result of such experiments would be and what Sephiroth would do in the future. So we're talking about a man torn by his own principles, full of doubts and, lest you forget, heartbroken. It is not easy to act in a situation like this. But he couldn't ignore his own morals, so despite his role he tried to reason with Lucrecia first and then he confronted Hojo, with the consequences we know. Did he have to kidnap Lucrecia? Did he have to kill Hojo? Did he have to burn the Shinra Mansion to the ground? Let's be honest, normal people don't act this way. And Vincent Valentine was the sanest one in the middle, so he paid for it. But even if Vincent had freaked out and gone down the path of violence, there would have been consequences and it would probably have ended the same way.
But let's go back to Lucrecia for a moment. Vincent's naivety and empathy did not allow him to notice the red flags. He only saw the best and deepest part of her, the fragile, kind and brilliant one. When she pushed him away, he still behaved as correctly as possible. He stepped aside, hoping that she would be happy. There is no selfishness, there is no possessiveness. This is called unconditional love, and it is very rare. Should he have claimed Lucrecia for himself even if she didn't want it? Fight the other man to get the woman back? Continue to chase her proclaiming his love like a crazy? These are some traits of toxic masculinity. Vincent left her absolute freedom, he respected her choices as a woman, as an adult and as a scientist, even if his sensitivity allowed him to understand some things before she could notice them herself. And that's why Vincent's question "are you sure this is what you really want" hurts so much. He knew it. He knew she would love that child.
The fact that Vincent feels like a failure who was unable to protect the woman he loved and her child is understandable. But this is only his feeling, his perception of himself in a situation way bigger than him. So no one will ever be able to get it out of my head: Vincent Valentine did everything a good man with his hands tied behind his back could have done. He went out of line for Lucrecia and Sephiroth, and was killed for it.
#vincent valentine#ffvii#ff7r#ff7#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#final fantasy rebirth#lucrecia crescent#The Rebirth Vincent is bringing back memories#dirge of cerberus
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THERAPY 🍯˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
🧸 byakuya kuchiki x masseuse! f! reader 🐝 tw: +18 mdni. masturbation. rough sex. domination. 🍯 wc: 821
The curve of his back, the slight bump of his buttocks against your thighs. Hands sliding to the front, index fingers following the V carved in between his abdominal muscles until down, down sinful territories.
“ngh…”
He squirms just a little, so sensitive to your touch… to the biting on his nape, to your hard nipples grazing against his back.
A skin so feverish; you are hot, captain… are you running a fever, captain?
“no… ugh…”
Soft hands, drenched in oil, surrounds the base of his shaft. Thumb going up and down until the tip. Oh, the oozing transparency of pleasure, dripping on the floor.
“are you so very needy, captain? Are your muscles still sore?”
He can’t say much; he doesn’t need to, anyway. Byakuya Kuchiki has been visiting this special therapist for some time now. Every time, every afternoon, his back pain is gone by your magical hands. He comes back home so… relaxed, because those hands of yours do wonders.
“I am… good, I-“ he looses his mind when you pump up and down, and your wrists twists just enough to add that special spice. Byakuya’s legs shake, inner thighs twitch, spasm.
“Oh yeah? Are you, Mr. Kuchiki?” a sweet whispering, playful and naughty, leaves your juicy lips. Lips that are avid to be kissed, to be bitten, to be almost ripped by his. “Relax, Captain… relax more and more. You need to let it go all of your stress, cap”
Your words give him chills, his lower belly shows signs of tensing, and his shaft gets hard, harder… like a rock. He is about to break; he needs to relieve the tension building inside of him.
Wet sounds come from your palm and his sex. Sex that’s imbued in pleasure elixir of lust and aphrodisiac oils dripping down his inner thighs. The scent of cinnamon and honey mixed with manly sweat fills a warm candle illuminated private room.
You shiver to such depiction of masculine fragility; the dichotomy of pure primitive desire versus the class, the delicacy of a cherry blossom man.
“I’m com- coming…” he whimpers, contorting around your grip, around the pinching of his right nipple while you give him pleasure too.
His pointy nose lets a drop of sweat detach and fall to the ground. His everlasting frown, erased by pleasure grimace. His long, silky hair becoming a mess as you nuzzle right into his nape.
“Come, then… captain. Work for it. This is why you came here, right?”
Is not a surprise that such freak control enjoys from time to time to lend control to someone else. To give you total power over his body, as you push his intelligence down until his brain becomes a mush of nothingness but mere need.
Byakuya’s hips move on their own, giving thrusts to the air, fucking almost your hand. Oh, poor man… why would you stop jerking him off right when he is about to come? Edging him so badly… to punish him, perhaps even, of a neglected so needed eruption?
“Keep- please… don’t… stop” he begs, pleading so stupidly for more.
Your devilishly, mocking laughter makes him as mad as humiliatingly harder. Byakuya feels like he is going to burst, coming, squirting and who knows of what more his body is able to react to such torture.
“Mr. Kuchiki, you are just like a teenager…” “You went to far…”
You pushed too far your own limits, honey… and now you are the one being pinned against a massage table.
Your legs become spread with brutally snatching, and your hair painfully pulled by hands of blooming flowers.
“You made me this way, (Name). You wanted me to do this, didn’t you?” he grunts, pumping his slippery sex that’s painfully swollen with desperation.
You are speechless; yet, he is right. Of course you wanted this, violated by a man turned into a beast. Someone who neglected his heart to took over because he denied his own humanity… now is allowing to an even deeper part of himself to reign. There is nothing more deliciously desirable than a man ruled by animal hunger.
The deepest instincts of Kuchiki Byakuya. The deepest thrust into you, in between swollen labia, covering it all with dripping honeys.
Your arching back, forced to stay in place, with breasts squeezed against a hard surface. Aching buttocks from the slam of his legs as he fucks you so hard you can barely think…
But it’s not enough, of course it isn’t.
His right hand, sliding from behind to your belly as you did, lifts you up. Completely curved, your back and body tries to take it all. With feet hanging barely above the ground, with pressure trying to scape in between his sex taking over everything inside of you… of his seed flooding it all.
“Now, my stress is completely gone (Name)… thank you for your service”“Kuchiki-sama… nghh… I’m glad you enjoyed today’s session”
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