#I simply think I’ve had a hard life and I deserve a little treat (being the jelly in a dyke/dilf sandwich)

[sunnibits]

respectfully? I need them to spit-roast me.

[letstrip-teamblue]

Treat you like a lady

• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.

• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.

• Word count: 2,031

Sunday

Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.

The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.

A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.

Chris breaks the awkward silence.

“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.

I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”

“What?”

You look up from your phone.

“…What.” You echo.

“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”

Your cheeks get warm.

Think of a way to brush this off.

“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”

He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.

“... Do you do it for him?”

A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”

“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”

Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?

“This is none of your business.” You scoff.

“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.

Chris doesn’t give up yet.

“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”

You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.

“I’ll see you later, Chris.”

7:00 pm

Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.

You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.

Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.

“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.

It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.

You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.

“I'm over here, goof.”

It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked

“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.

1:12 am

Well, that’s a first.

Monday

Chris opened the front door.

“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.

Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.

“Yeah about that,”

You cleared your throat and walked inside.

“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”

His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.

“What?”

“It’s not personal, it’s-”

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.

“How can I when you’re all I think about?”

The air in the room gets thick.

“What?”

“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.

“I could treat you better than him.”

You laugh, “What are you talking about?”

He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know it’s true.”

He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.

“I can make you feel good.”

You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.

Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.

He must be bluffing… right?

“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.

I need to stop this.

“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.

Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.

“Does he make you nervous like I do?”

Chris' eyes fall to your lips.

“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”

Shit.

Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.

Wait, don’t go anywhere.

You press your lips forward, chasing him.

It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.

He straightens up.

“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”

Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.

“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”

“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”

You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.

You pull back for air.

“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”

“Ok.”

But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.

It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.

“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”

“I’d really like that.”

4:15 pm

Me: just left his house. whew.

Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.

6:00pm

“How long have you liked me?”

“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”

Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.

You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.

“Damn, you have some knots right here.”

“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”

“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”

Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.

“Is it ok if I bring this up?”

“Mhm.”

He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.

Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.

“That feeling good?”

“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”

He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”

After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.

He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.

“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”

“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.

You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.

He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.

“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”

While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.

You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.

You nod into his pillow.

“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.

“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.

“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”

He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.

Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.

“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.

He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.

Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.

Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.

Your back arches off the bed.

“That’s it.” he says into my skin.

He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.

“God, you’re everything.”

It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.

“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”

“Fuck yes.” You moan.

When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.

Chris tsks.

“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”

“Shut up.”

You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.

“Yes ma’am.”

Jesus

Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.

“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”

You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.

Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.

He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.

“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Please, so close.”

“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”

He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.

In an instant your vision goes black.

The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.

You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.

“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.

“Hi”

“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”

He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.

You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.

It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him

[menagerlie]

WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WAS A WORM?

furina, lyney, & navia… if they became the worm. gn reader. headcanon format. short, trying to figure out tumblr. pt 1 maybe if i think it’s funny enough to add more characters.

FURINA:

she’s living like this now.

that’s it that’s the post.

i think she’d. leave before anyone had the chance to find her tbh, since she lives alone now... alternatively if it was before everything happened i fear she would just further become entertainment. hydro archon is a… worm ??? 😱😱😱 is this the purest form of water.

how much of worms are water

more than 75%.

they’re just like us fr… new conspiracy theory

we’re all worms.

anywayyyy

fontainians are so funny

would she be disappointed at the lack of mac and cheese? maybe. but in the aftermath of everything, she’s looking for simplicity, for reprieve and a way to enjoy life in the barest of forms. of course becoming a worm would be hard to get used to, but i think she could, fairly easily actually in the grand scheme of things. maybe it’s close enough to what she wants.

she’s been in a human body while playing the role of a god for 500 years. i think she could use a change

becoming a worm in this situation is sort of a metaphor for her situation actually. hehe. learning to live with such a modest, small existence after a lifetime of a lavish, celebrated, constantly watched one. and learning to love it— gunshot

after so long of pretending perhaps being a worm would allow her to shed her old skin and simply be.

i think she deserves it

anyway if you lived with her or visited her like every day, maybe she’d just like. curl up and wait. would probably be fairly particular about how she likes her . um. enclosure.

treat furm kindly or i will get you

:3c

as a wild worm, probably extra afraid of the water. panics in the rain. would be the first up if charmed.

like. worm charming. not. you know what i mean

ok so i’ve been enlightened. that is not why worms come up. ignore that

would wormtainians dissolve

erm. next.

oh yeah. if she’s able to turn back, she’d be happy and relieved of course, but i don’t think she’d be as upset about the experience as the others (except for the fact it may be a bit embarrassing, especially if you saw her). she’s lived a long time, she’s seen a lot, i think she’d appreciate the new perspective. even if it was. silly :3

LYNEY:

oh yeah. totally normal . wait. what

i think he’d magic pocket himself . he’d be safe in there for a bit . right

do you think worms could do card tricks.

do you think he could use his vision

worm. on fire.

anyway

i think he’d try and find out wtf happened and try to get himself to turn back first. if he couldn’t/needs help he’s going to try and find lynette first.

he’s silly to get loved ones’ attention. flips over. attempts to lift a card. rolls around

imagine he could change to a worm and back at will and used it in his shows

disappearing act . but what you don’t know is that there’s a tiny worm on the stage.

i keep getting distracted.

wonders what’s going on but thinks it’s funny at first. then it’s like. oh. oh!!

tries his best to figure out how to turn back. there’s panic there definitely, as any sane person would have, but i think it would especially set in after a little while — he starts thinking less about himself and more about his siblings, father, and you. will you know it’s him? he’s stripped of his capabilities, his tongue, his tricks. he was never a good fighter, but like this he is completely helpless.

if he can’t turn back, i think he’d want to stay w/ lynette at all times. sorry. she’s getting enclosure privileges . you can visit though

would a sentient worm be a funny addition to a magic show

could a worm gather intelligence..?

that would be funny

lynette just sets him down places to eavesdrop and he somehow idk recounts what he heard later

weaponized wormification

anyway. learns to live with it, especially if he’s able to stay near his siblings, though not as comfortably as the others

if he turns back he’s very relieved, a bit shaken. not because of really being a worm but just the helplessness that comes with losing your entire body and existence and what you deem useful about yourself . i think this goes for all of them, though

he’s okay

NAVIA:

president, leader, boss, commander-in-chief of the spina di rosula. my girl !!

you think anything’s changing??? nuh uh

get her some nice soil and a piece of paper with letters on it. congratulations . you’re her translator now.

my sister said wormija board im dying

anyway

might be a little shocked at first and wonder what’s going on, but ultimately i think she’d have fun being a worm if she knew she was going to turn back. she’s sillay like that. i loove her

i think first and foremost she’d try to get the attention of you or other loved ones. might stay close to something of hers if there isn’t a way to reach someone quickly, to try and signal that she’s. herselfff

but like she’s having fun. she’s enjoying it. unbothered queen

so wormquette !! :3c

in wormification angst land, she would mourn her human body but if there’s no way to get it back, she’s not going to let it stop her. she’s been through hardship before. she has overcome it before and she can do it again.

would be the best worm president, leader, boss, commander-in-chief to ever live. for sure

girlypop. she eats. she would slay . beauty and brains even in a worm body. :3

would not be that picky about living space tbh . might like some decorations and a nice place to sleep, though. i think she’d like it being watered! unlike someone.

unbothered. moisturized. happy. in her lane. focused. flourishing.

she’d enjoy sweet fruits in particular! worm version of baked goods.

considering the people she’s lost to being dissolved though, being wormified is kind of funny. like . similar situation (losing your body etc) but she’s still here

:3

hehe. fate

worm angst…

i’m silly

promise

[stardustizuku]

Part 2: PART 5 changed everything.

So, why is Part 5 important to the discussion? Simple.

I’ve read enough Isekai stories, and Saintess stories to realize the parallels. I’m not saying it was conscious, since Kazuki-sensei has said that it was not her explicit intend to reference Isekai, but rather to create a realistic story with the basis of Isekai around it. But, to me, it is actually one that I’ve seen before.

It’s actually quite common for the “adopted princess” narratives to flood Isekai and reincarnation stories:

The Saintess, adopted by a nobleman after finding out about her powers, slowly rising through the ranks to save the world.

Oftentimes these narratives either make the parents abusive, or dead, to justify why the Saintess would be so willing to leave. But on not-so-rare occasions, the parents are written as simply, being okay with it. Or in particularly bad stories, it never gets addressed.

While the commoner origins of said Saintess is mentioned, that “commoner’s logic” that is so relevant to Myne’s characters, get completely brushed off in these stories. It’s either torture porn meant to highlight how tortured the poor Saintess was before this, or cheap tactic to make her appear more good hearted because she cares for the “commoners”. Some newer Villainess novels have even poked fun at this, calling out the seemingly self serving attitude these plot-point have.

In truth, these stories start, either in Part 3, Part 4 or Part 5. We skip over most of their commoner days, jumping straight into either the “Adopted Child” narrative, the “Royal Academy” or “Saintess” narratives.

However, by starting in Part 1, Ascendance of a Bookworm confronts these unpleasant and hard questions with the ruthlessness they deserve. For one, the extreme poverty she was raised in caused he money and profit driven self to be created.

The adoption wasn’t something she would have chosen. Given the option of death or being adopted, Myne would have chosen death. But since it involved her family’s lives, she had no other choice than to give up her freedom in exchange for their safety.

In her case, it wasn’t something she willingly jumped into, or something magical to be adopted by the “Duke of North” but it was a tragic affair. She was ripped from her family, she was forced to act and learn things she didn’t want to. Simply put, this was far from the magic outcome other Isekai stories form.

By the time we jump into Part 3, while the sense of wonder is still there, it’s painted with these undertones of sadness. It also doesn’t help that most of the fairy-tale like “Adopted Child” narrative that often forms in these stories, is more than absent in here.

The whole “I’m a Saintess so I was adopted by the Duke” would be tooth rotting fluff in other isekai novels, where the protagonist has to gain the affection of her adoptive father by being the cutest little thing ever.

…In her case, is one traumatic even after the other.

Rozemyne keeps getting swarmed with work and lessons, having to fight for her life to get ingredients for her medicine, having a half-brother who’s little more than useless, and the entire thing with Hasse…It again reiterates: The adoption, emotionally speaking, was never an upgrade.

While Sylvester considers her valuable and cares for her to some degree - there’s a clear divide between them. Sylvester puts this divide simply because he’s an archduke, and Rozemyne, well, for being Rozemyne. Sylvester never sees Rozemyne as her child, or treats her with doting kindness. To him, she’s a powerful ally, nothing more.

(Despite what people may think, Rozemyne’s closeness to someone is determined by an entirely different system, and Sylvester is counted as more of an ally than family. She put Charlotte on a higher scale than him. She very much does not see him as a Father and would sooner call Kardestadt that)

And even then, Part 3 is not really the focus of the story. The actual story begins to kick in during Part 4, when they go to the Royal Academy and Rozemyne starts to interact with the other Duchies. Again, it’s very common to have Royal Academies in isekai novels. And it’s also very common to jump to them, out of the nowhere. I appreciate how Ascendance of a Bookworm planted the seeds of Royal Academy since as early as Part 2, because I sweAR TO GOD, the NEXT isekai that drops the stupid “magic school” out of the NOWHERE in the middle of my childcare novel is getting PUNTED.

The Royal Academy actually starts to introduce us to the story setting we’ll spend the most time with. Part 1, 2 & 3 form about just half of the entire story. The other half is spent on the Royal Academy and dealing with, well, Royalty and other duchies. And it’s when we first get introduced to how absurdly powerful and abnormal Rozemyne truly is. Because back home she got constantly compared to Ferdinand, very rarely could we see just how different she was to her peers. We sorta could peer at it with Wilfred, but because he was such a bad example of what a Noble should be in Part 3 - it couldn’t even be called a comparison.

And while I was pleasantly surprised to see a subversion of my expectations on all these volumes, I was so focused on these things that I failed to notice what this all meant, until I had the full picture in Part 5.

Part 5 is, well, it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s the first time Rozemyne has to walk on her own two feet without Ferdinand there to hold her hand. Yeah, sure, Sylvester is there, Bonifatus is too and Kardestadt, but it quickly becomes apparent that they’re not nearly equipped enough to properly guide Rozemyne. Not only because at that point in time they’re too busy to give her an education, but because she has a better control in many of these issues than they do.

She has more mana, she interacts better with other duchy’s nobles, she gives insight and solutions on many of their issues, is able to directly face the consequences of her actions, and controls their duchy’s main exports and trends. This is not to say that Sylvester isn’t doing a great job as an archduke, since he’s been shielding her all this time and trying his best to contain her - it’s just that without Ferdinand there, Rozemyne simply grew too big for the duchy. Ferdinand was the only one capable of keeping up with her, her ideas, and her projects. Without him, Rozemyne became too much of a central piece in Ehrenfest.

And that’s when it hit me.

Up until now, we weren’t watching the story of Rozemyne. I couldn’t describe it as anything more than the prologue, or setting the stage for the actual real conflict that is about to unfold in Part 5. And each and every part beforehand was a way to properly give the tools to Rozemyne to become this. The Avatar of Mestionora.

Part 1 develops her merchant and commoner’ side. Her ruthlessness when it comes to profits, her single minded obsessions, and developing the empathy and love above books that comes to define her.

Part 2 develops her as Saint. Her temple work, her learning about gods and goddesses, her prayers, and work in the orphanage. Since this is the narrative that helps her with magic it’s imperative she learns it.

Part 3 develops her as an Ehrenfest Noble. Her position on the social hierarchy, the expectations of her in regards to supporting Wilfred, and the duchy.

Part 4 develops her as a Yugerschmidt Noble. One with a schtappe, one who can wield mana, that of a prodigy.

And all these identities, all these values and lessons, culminate in Part 5. Where, with no one left who can properly prop her up, she has to start standing for herself. She can no longer rely on Ferdinand to tell her what’s right and what’s wrong, she has to make those decisions herself.

And this is why I say Part 5 is amazing. When I was talking about being unable to accurately interpret the politics of Ascendance of a Bookworm, this was the issue. I wasn’t reading the story of politics, but rather - I was reading the setting of the stage for the story about politics.

Before Part 5, it was all about laying the groundwork. How the temple works, how the nobles work, Myne’s logic, etc.

Part 1 Myne couldn’t form her own identity, or properly have an opinion on things, because she didn’t understand how the world works. Likewise, us the audience, couldn’t fully understand the message or the politics being pushed forwards because we lacked the context. We were relegated to, much like Myne, listening to what Ferdinand said was right or wrong.

Now, however, with Rozemyne having her own identity, she no longer has this issue. She has learned, she’s watched. She has formed her three core values that rule her world.

These are:

Family

Meritocracy

Capitalism

These are things she’ll rarely budge in. You cannot threaten her family. He who does not work, shall not eat. And when the opportunity arises, take it and profit as much as you can.

I actually had not realized this for a while. I kept having this nagging feeling that I was missing something, but it finally clicked in Volume 4 Part 5, with.

PREV << MASTERLIST >> NEXT

[thousand-winters]

Do you headcanon Hunter as having any issues with food/ eating from the EC?? I’ve been projecting myself way to hard lol

It's likely he definitely has some issues with that, because frankly... his whole life there was SO bad.

Mostly I figure Belos didn't really withhold food from him or anything like that, not directly anyway, because Hunter was supposed to be an scout and then his Golden Guard, if he just doesn't give him food, Hunter is going to end up passing out and being unable to do his training and his missions. Which, you know, it's not like it was vital for Belos, but he did keep the appearances of Hunter being important to him to some degree.

Now, I say not directly because while I imagine Hunter had his meals in the mess hall or whatever the Emperor's Coven has for that, just like everyone else, he ended up not getting as many meals as he could have because he felt too committed to his duties. It's clear he didn't sleep properly already, and if he had too many responsibilities, he probably cut corners when it came to eating as well, very "oh, I think I'll be fine if I just have one meal today, this work is more important".

Also, there was the guilt factor, with Belos constantly reminding him he took him in and gave him everything he has, so every time he failed a mission or simply didn't perform to the level that was expected of him, while I personally don't think Belos would straight up go "you're not eating today" or anything like that, Belos would very much make him feel like a waste of resources. He took him in, he gave him a place, a room, food, clothes, and Hunter can't even do what's asked of him? Ultimately the guilt would have made Hunter simply decide that he has NOT earned the right to go get some food because he has obviously disappointed his uncle. I feel like it fits Belos' methods of manipulation in which ultimately he made Hunter feel like he deserved everything bad that happened to him and at some level he didn't have to punish him himself for it to work.

The one instance he could be a little bit more carefree with that, I feel, is his missions. Because Eclipse Lake also showed that those were like privileges to him, and being withdrawn from them was horrible to him, which makes sense with the extra context in Thanks to them that it was the only times he was even allowed outside of the castle. I'm basing this solely on that one box of crackers in Separate Tides, sue me, but I think he would feel that he's worthy enough during those, because the emperor has entrusted him with them, to not have to feel like he hasn't earned food.

The problem would be that anything he got that wasn't assigned rations would have to come from his own pocket, and he probably had an assigned budget for each mission, so I don't think he could constantly afford snacks and fun things anyway, so even if it was the one moment he let himself have a little treat, it wouldn't happen often.

Once he's living with Darius and Eber, this is absolutely going to come up. Maybe not right away because he also would have gotten a positive and healthy example from his friends at the Human Realm, but I could see him getting a bad grade at school or something like that and then just... deciding he can't go eat because he failed and he can't just go and waste resources when he can't even do that, right?

... So the short answer for if I think he has food/eating issues is yes.

[creedslove]

I’m sorry am I being selfish if I wish he never got this famous? I miss Pedro before all this attention he’s received, sure he had his moment of glory but it always comes with the bad sides (harassing on the internet, stalking, etc) I miss when he could be active on social media cause he was famous but also not that famous and he was free to post and write whatever he pleased and also that he could still have somewhat a normal life with some people here and there who stoped him for a photo but not being bombarded with paps if he put a foot out of his house. I really hope he’s doing good and taking care of his mental and physical health, I’m sending all the good and positive vibes and energy to him cause he deserves them all being the kindest human being I’ve ever seen

Well, I got into this fandom in the middle of the hype so I wouldn't be able to tell, but I saw a lot of people who liked him before that saying he was more open, and free to say whatever he wanted, but he worked so hard to be where he is at and just like everything in life, there's the good and bad side of it, especially fame.

Overall, I think Pedro reminds me A LOT of Tom Hiddleston and how he was treated by the media; he used to be everyone's favorite, everyone loved Loki, and he was so nice and sweet and he danced and stuff, but after the whole taylor swift fiasco (I hate her until this day because of it and this topic is not open for discussion) he simply got more serious and private, exactly like people have been commenting about Pedro... Also, there used to be a lot of speculations on Tom's sexuality just because he found love a little later in life, and the same happens to Pedro...

But like, it is also comforting to know that Tom is still a popular actor who is brilliant at what he does and he's able to live sort of a normal life (as normal as a famous person can be) happily with his family even if the hype is over, so I am guessing the same will happen to Pedro, eventually, the internet will move on from him and find someone else they will worship, but he will have built his career and everyone will acknowledge him more for his talent than his looks and hopefully he will be able to live in peace ✌🏻❤️

[sadieshavingsex]

wow. been a few weeks since I’ve posted here. things have rapidly gotten better for me over the past few weeks to the point where I’m honestly kind of still waiting for the upper shoe to drop. I want to take a sec to tell about the major things that have finally clicked and helped.

i left a cut because it's a handful of paragraphs. lots of stuff about my relationship dynamics and evangelicalism and how they intertwine and what I've been learning, plus a resource I've been using that has really helped me with this

first off, I totally and finally cut off all means of common contact with my ex. he actually was the one to tell me to stop getting in touch, but I also was able to ensure that I blocked him on multiple accounts and (at least for now) will also not receive messages from heavily involved mutual friends/acquaintances/etc (this was a huge issue previously even after both of us had individually tried to stay out of touch with the other. Like people from his life just kept messaging me all the time as though nothing was wrong, which I think was a huge thing holding me back from effectively moving on).

I haven’t heard from the man or his family/friends or had to unwillingly be subjected to his face on socials for 3 ish weeks now and it has already made a world of difference. with actual distance from him I can clearly see why my most popular post is my most popular post. “IM TIRED OF FEELING PATHOLOGIZED IM TIRED OF PATHOLOGIZING MYSELF!” This was probably the most massive issue in the relationship. I had valid wants, needs, and ideas about what a relationship should and could be that he just couldn’t fulfill, and instead of simply leaving it be and letting him go for my own sanity, I gaslit myself (and sometimes let him gaslight me) into thinking that when my VERY VALID and often RELATIVELY BASIC wants and needs weren’t being addressed, I was “too needy” and there was something wrong with ME that could be fixed. And I tried to fix it for two fucking years - often by going to therapy, trying to find a diagnosis, reading a ton of self-help books, etc! Until a few weeks ago, when I suddenly came to this reframe that like, there are plenty of people who can meet me where I am with the kind of care I’m looking for and achieve basic relational goals for things like HONESTY, ENTHUSIASM, EMOTIONAL SAFETY, and beyond. Some of these were already a struggle from the start of the relationship with Sam and most got significantly worse as we stayed together for almost a year and a half. And continued to get worse even afterward as I tried to salvage a friendship or relationship or whatever I could with this person who was treating me generally pretty hurtfully, whether he meant to or not.

I can see how evangelicalism would play a huge role here, because the church very much used the rhetoric of “if you aren’t happy and fulfilled with what you’re being given (often mistreatment lol), YOU are the problem and need to try harder/renew your mind/be more faithful/etc”

what a whirlwind to come out the other side of this and say, SOMETIMES YOU ARE NOT THE PROBLEM. I was trying so hard to “heal” and “fix myself” so that I could be a better, more accepting girlfriend and the reality is that MANY people would agree that the way Sam treated me was below the bar for what a healthy relationship should look like. I was trying to contort myself to feel happy and healthy within a dynamic that was simply bad for me! And a lot of the time Sam contributed heavily to it! But instead of thinking about what I want, need, and deserve in a relationship, I just thought about why I clearly was in the wrong and needed to “get help” to make it work. Here’s the lesson: I DONT NEED TO SETTLE OR BECOME SMALLER TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP WORK!

I’m going to take a break from therapy for a little while this coming month and I think it will be good. The truth is that I was in a relationship that was super negative for me in many ways beyond the sex stuff I talked about on this blog, and I just didn’t leave and kept trying to do the majority of the lifting to make it work. I thought something was wrong with ME when the reality is that I am who I am and my needs and wants are valid and the SITUATION was just so wrong for me. The ocd therapist I’d started seeing said she thought the greatest exposure would be being myself and just doing me, and I think I agree.

For so long I was part of a religion where I had to use doublethink and make myself, my thoughts, my needs, my goals, and my wants small to make the situation make sense as a fruitful and fulfilling relationship. And that’s essentially what I just did, again, for a year and a half.

I think it’s time to validate myself big time. The things I want are really not crazy and can often easily be found if I know where to look. Yeah, I have some mental health issues, but many of them have been insanely exacerbated and blown out of regular proportion beyond belief by the relationships and situations I’ve found myself in and decided to remain in even though they were harmful, confusing, unfulfilling, etc. It’s time to take up space. It’s time to get what I want and not settle for less! Not to allow obvious red flags to even enter the picture. Just to enjoy my life for what it is and how happy I can be when I meet my needs and treat myself and invest in situations and relationships that lift me up rather than tearing me down. Thank you all for being with me through the past year and a half. I’m so excited and feel so good these recent days, it’s really almost unbelievable compared to how I felt around Sam, especially after he’d broken up with me but would still come around occasionally. I can post more soon about resources that have helped me during this time, but the biggest one currently is Erica Smith’s Sexual Values Workbook for Purity Culture Dropouts (which is actually on sale right now). It has opened my eyes to what really matters to me surrounding sex and allowed me to think really clearly about some of the dynamics in the relationship that were so off that I just couldn’t see, many of which came out through the distress around sex but were really far beyond it in terms of scope. I’m so happy to be doing this workbook while single and enjoying learning about myself without judgment. Can’t wait to keep you all updated as I go and grow❤️ all my love always

[bewitchrry]

🍰 HARRY STYLES BIRTHDAY READING - SO LATE.

Reminder: this is strictly for fun. I am doing this for fun. Entertainment purposes only. Okiedokie? I had every intention of doing this reading on his actual birthday but then life got in the way. This spread popped out at me, and I am going to try my hand at a little bit of storytelling as I go. I have also added two oracle cards (both jumped out while I was shuffling), and I’ll tie it up nicely with a bow, I hope. Sorry it’s late, but like Queen Clarice always says: a queen is never late, everyone else is simply early.

The pull is drawn into six questions, with #1 at the top, then making its way down. 

THE PULL

1.    What challenges did Harry face this year?

King of Cups, Reversed. Keywords: Self-compassion, inner feelings, moodiness, emotionally manipulative.

Since I don’t know Harry, I cannot speak to his inner challenges, but this card indicates that he might’ve gone through some growing pains in the last year, leading him to look inward, focusing on his emotions that he may shove deep down and repress. This leads to being vulnerable to emotional upset and drama. And while yeah - we saw some drama last year - Harry is not one to really ever speak on it, and we probably won’t get that from him. 

I’m sensing a lot of reflection, character work for him in the last year, meaning he really did take a deep dive into the kind of person he wants to be - not just publicly, but privately and more importantly, to himself. It aligns with what I’ve spoken about in his Saturn return: we started to see a shift in energy in the last third of the year, and we’re all seeing how it will shape him in the future.

 I also feel like he’s been beating himself up about something, or he’s bearing the weight of something that he shouldn’t have to do alone. He says treat people with kindness, but does he allow himself that same grace?

2.    Where did Harry focus most of his attention in the last year?

Judgement, upright. Keywords: self-evaluation, awakening, renewal, purpose, reflection, reckoning

This card is screaming at me. So much of his attention was focused on career: the release of Harry’s House, movies, Coachella (was this really only in the last year? My god!), and massive residences across North America, so this was a significant stage in his journey. We saw him renewed in a way that brought him to a different level in terms of his career, and his reach. He’s revitalised, and there’s an energy around him that is very loud and bright.

We know Harry is itchy. I mean itchy in the way that he always needs to be moving, always has fingers in many pies. He’s constantly working and go-go-going. I would hope, especially in this year, he uses some of that energy towards really evaluating what’s important to him, and maybe (maybe) slowing down. Being a workaholic and loving what you do is great, but there is a downside to it, and Harry would benefit from some introspection and taking a deep breath.

3.    What was the outcome of the situation that was drawing Harry’s attention?

Nine of Pentacles, upright. Keywords: rewarded efforts, success, achievement, independence, leisure, material security, self-sufficiency

Ain’t this the truth? With all his hard work this past year and his career skyrocketing into another stratosphere, Harry definitely got to enjoy the fruits of his labours. Not only that: his work has brought him honours. Two Grammys, four BRIT awards, and a ton of praise from the industry he’s worked so hard to be a part of for so long. 

Let him eat cake. It’s well deserved. 

4.    What does Harry need to let go of to move forward?

The Magician, reversed. Keywords: manipulation, cunning, trickery, wasted talent, illusion, deception

I stared at this card, thinking about it’s meanings and the keywords, and for me, it’s about letting go of the unwillingness to take chances, and I have to wonder if it’s out of fear that he won’t be liked. This is not to say he doesn’t take chances, but so much of what he does and how it’s done is calculated and very predictable. The only thing about him these days that is unpredictable is how chaotic he will be on stage. Harry has a enigmatic, effervescent presence and personality when we get to see it, and I want to see him take some chances with how they evolve his career moving forward. Take risks! 

5.    Where should I direct my attention in the upcoming year?

King of Wands, upright. Keywords: leadership, vision, big picture, taking control, daring decisions, boldness, optimism

Well well well. Like I said about taking chances, this is the sign. Harry needs to direct his attention to the big overall picture, making those daring chances, being a little bolder in his choices, and with that comes being a leader. We all know he’s the Boss™️, but by being a leader, he can get everyone around him to be on board with his big picture goals. I have a feeling he’s already on that, so watch this space over the next few months.

6.    What is the overall energy of the year ahead?

Seven of Pentacles, reversed Keywords: Lack of long-term vision, limited success or reward.

This isn’t a bad card, before you stare at the keywords and freak out. This is all about where he chooses to invest his time, money and efforts. Looking back through the spread, we notice a pattern: it’s about making calculated choices and seeing the big picture. For Harry, this could mean picking and choosing what he does and does not do. I know we all scream for him to do the thing, whatever that thing might be, but for him: is the return on investment worth it? 

He’s at a point in his career that yes, he can take risks and push into new markets and do big things, but the energy for the year seems to be: if it’s not working for him, it’s time to invest that energy elsewhere. (A good lesson for everyone, to be honest!)

THE ORACLES

Cord Cutting

I cut the cord that ties that bind agreements set and contracts signed across all planes of space and time that connects you and me.

May the Rhythms of Fate and Tickings of Time be in your favour and Luck on your side and should you reach may ever you find what it is you seek.

Truth will out and Justice blind do not regret what’s left behind lessons learned and peace of mind persist strongest in memory.

Our Destinies, once intertwined now yours is yours and mine is mine with gratitude I un-assign with courage I release.

To the Goddess I petition a total and complete remission So be it. So mote it be.

Energy Follows Intention

The human brain, composed of billions of nerve cells and trillions of synapses, generates enough electricity to power a lightbulb and processes information 300x faster than the fastest computer. Breakthrough technology can translate mental commands into physical control of objects through the power of thought alone. The mind, much like the universe, is both beyond comprehension and constantly revealing itself. 

But before any of this was known, the premise that thoughts have power has been touted and utilised since the ancients. Like all science, this was magic before its mechanics were observed. That energy follows intention is a fundamental rule of magic. 

It may not happen if you think about it, but if you don’t think about it, it will never happen.

Happy Birthday, Harry. May this year be good to you. x 🔮✨

[moon-ness]

more bravey notes

One of the things that really got to me regarding her thoughts on her Dad were her feelings surrounding being ungrateful. “The way I behave in certain moments doesn’t reflect how grateful I am for the things he gave me and gave up for me.” I relate wholeheartedly. Sometimes the way I behave doesn’t directly reflect how overwhelmingly touched I am. It just doesn’t always show through in the way I wish it would. It’s easier for her to remember the shitty moments when she didn’t live up to showing her own gratitude than the moments of gratitude. They would push each other’s buttons but he never, never lost his cool and sometimes she would push them just to see if he would react and he never ever did. I can’t imagine having a relationship with a figure like that. But I understand sometimes you want to push someone a little just to see if they push back at you. Maybe you want to see if you deserve them taking something out on you, I don’t know. Reflections on parental relationship are always difficult for me to read. It shines a spotlight on my own gaps when I realize for myself, just how truly isolating and alone my own childhood was. Who was I to call? The thoughts are anything but pleasant and I carry very few of my own memories with me and they cannot be undone no matter what. They are sewn into your skin. She says, “We revert back to our childhood behavior when we’re around our parents.” Maybe it’s that way for parents too. No matter time has passed we fall into old routines and histories because our knowledge can never be undone. I still think of how despite my best efforts, a hug from my mother makes me whole body seize up and cringe. The warmth does not feel safe and I don’t think my body will ever forget or undo that. She said the sadness hits us the moment we are born and realize that no matter what, we are grateful for our parents bringing us into the world and all they went through. The sad is not sad at all, it’s just love. 

You make your own cape. Two years of depression and injury after injury was an arduous trek for her. Her first race back was a marathon with a goal pace but she had little time to prepare for it due to the injuries. She was starting at almost zero, having ran for only a few weeks so her climb was conservative and not pushing hard enough to actually test herself. “First steps on dry land after months of cross-training.” She felt her injury ten miles into the race and made the decision to ditch her goal pace and simply finish instead of dropping out because she couldn’t hit pace. Her engine was strong but her wheels weren’t turning right. She decided to re-frame the entire thing for herself in order to avoid disappointment when she was questioned on her epic fail in a post-race interview. “Reframing your goals and rewriting your stories are powerful tools.” Adjustments. I know how powerful that is. I am currently injured and afraid to run again and in the meantime my goals and expectations need to change. My values need to be placed elsewhere or else I’ll drown in the pit of “oh my god, I can’t do this and I failed.” She knows just how much the negatives outshine the positives and for people like us we have to work that much harder at them. Well, for anyone I guess. Alexi did not grow up in a comfortable female environment. Most of it made her uncomfortable. She held onto one pair of shoes from her mother, Gucci slip ons and savored them. “As with so many feminine things I’ve experienced while growing up, I was on the other side of the glass— always outside peering in, imitating, adopting, projecting, but never inherently a part of it. I sensed power but had none.” And when she was in Italy she saw Gucci shoes and treated herself to them for the first time in her life, in honor of her mother and finding her own femininity. Growing up she had nightmares of her mother but never told her father because if she did he’d think she was traumatized and feel bad and there was nothing he could do about that. And then she met a woman, someone who she connected with as a mother figure, Maya Rudolph. It was pure chance. She was running on a treadmill in a hotel gym and here walks by Maya, her husband and their kids and a conversation began. She watched carefully as Maya interacted with her girls. “Often, a little girl’s understanding of the world revolves around her mother.” And there was a tinge of shame surrounding the things she does not know. Shame stems from a feeling that something is our own fault. That we are somehow responsible for the gaps or understandings we should already know. They talked about it and Maya had the same experiences as Alexi. Growing up like that effects how you relate to other women. “You are self-conscious but unrestricted. You are scrappy. You feel extra responsibility all of the time. You overcompensate. You grow up resembling someone you don’t really know. You are aware of your own mortality.” This must be true. I relate a lot to Alexi but sometimes I wonder how ours differ. She looked up to Maya. “I think of her as the sun and I’m just a small asteroid fighting to find my place in the solar system. I’ll bask in her warmth whenever I’m lucky enough to pass close to her orbit, but for the rest of the time, it’s enough to know she’s out there.” WOW I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I FEEL THIS IN MY SOUL. So much of this book spoke to me and I still have so many thoughts on the beginning of her book. 

[marvel-trash-bin]

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

~

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

~

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[my-darling-boy]

Genuinely asking, isn't self-diagnose with a condition kind of dangerous? Because legitimizing self-diagnosing opens a door to many malicious people who would want to exploit the fact they can self-diagnose? And in turn, make the space of autistic people worse?

Was going to skip this, but I’m writing a LONG response because I’m VERY exhausted with the amount of misinformation I see on this “self dx is dangerous” take, so buckle up and allow me to info dump.

Recently, authentic_autism_advocacy, an Instagram account run by a supposed medically diagnosed autistic woman was discovered to be a non-autistic woman, Connie Manning, posing as a medically diagnosed autistic person to spread hate and anti-self diagnosing speech. In reality, she is a neurotypical mother who regularly uses her autistic son for clout; she also turned out to have a hand behind CalmWear, a brand of sensory compression products designed for disabled people. Not only had she been spewing hatred towards other autistic people, she had been accusing well known AFAB autistic tiktokers like beckspectrum of faking being autistic and threatening self diagnosed autistics and saying they are a danger to the community, and engaging in other incredibly discriminating behaviour. Yes, she herself was a neurotypical person posing as a medically diagnosed autistic to perpetuate hateful rhetoric about self diagnosed people and used her voice to speak OVER autistic folk for financial gain and exploitation of autistic people, including her own son. If you want to read this roller coaster of a story, an autistic person wrote an entire article on it with tons of screenshots and sources.

So let me make one thing clear to you.

The purpose of actually, genuinely self diagnosing is not done to attract attention or to parade around and exploit other autistic people. Self diagnosed autistic individuals have recognised due to difficult life circumstances, financial hardship, bigotry and stigma within the medical/legal world, being a minor, lack of insurance, lack of proper access to safe care facilities, being denied assessment due to incompetent or biased practitioners, and/or any other obstacle that they may temporarily or permanently be barred from diagnosis. Self diagnosis does NOT instantly mean a person is posing for clout, nor does it indicate a person is trying to wring money from assistance services or exploit other autistics. And nts who use self diagnose with intentions of harming the community? That’s NOT self diagnosis, that’s abuse of something meant to aid people blocked from medical care or financial means to that care. All we can do for autistic people, no matter who we perceive them to be, is treat them the same way we would any other autistic person. Because the moment you start deciding by your own book who deserves respect and who doesn’t, you’ll be on a slippery slope to locking out thousands of autistic people from the community. If it’s discovered a person like Connie is literally abusing the system of self dx to intentionally mislead the community, by all means, we must hold them accountable. But you cannot simply go about granting and revoking access from people just because someone lacks a diagnosis or doesn’t fit your idea of what being autistic looks like, especially if it’s based on stereotypes.

Moral of the story? Isn’t it ironic how anti-self dx people will 100% believe a user who claims to be medically diagnosed but shows no “written proof” of it, yet always demand written proof from a self dx person? It’s almost like even anti-self dx people can’t tell the difference between someone who is medically diagnosed autistic and someone who isn’t. Well, that’s because they can’t. While there might be common traits, autism has no set model, it is a spectrum, no autistic person is alike; Policing self diagnosed people about their self diagnosis isn’t a form of protecting the community. It’s a form of gatekeeping. If you find yourself granting instant acceptance, without asking for proof, to a person insisting they are medically diagnosed like this neurotyical mother, but then prohibit self dx people from entry entirely on the grounds of not showing proof of medical assessment, you are upholding a double standard. This is why policing autistic people’s diagnosis, self or not, is inherently useless.

So here’s the thing... instead of asking people to stop self diagnosing, what you should instead be asking yourself is, “Why do people self diagnose? What kind of medical system could possibly be in place where people feel they need to resort to self diagnosis rather than get an actual diagnosis?”

Well, it’s mainly common knowledge among most of the autistic community that diagnosis is NOT easy to come by.

One of the main reasons why people cannot get a diagnosis is due to financial/insurance reasons. It’s reasonable to estimate that by the end of 2020 almost 30 million Americans alone were without health insurance. I’ve heard costs out of pocket for an autism diagnosis are between $500-$6000. If a person or a family cannot afford health insurance—which by the way on average is around $5,400 a year for a single person and $13,800 for a family here—where are they supposed to pull out $6,000 to get screened?

You might be asking, “Well aren’t insurances supposed to cover disability?” Sure, there are options for disability care through health insurance—not even going to get into that—but like a lot of things in the US, this is a severely flawed system. A lot of private health insurance will stop or limit coverage for an autism diagnosis or assistance services once a person reaches 18 to 21 years old. In most states, coverage has a higher chance of being denied to autistic adults coming with the added age cap or ONLY covering ABA, an abusive, manipulative “therapy” used to force social compliance and trait suppression on autistic people. The fact that ABA, a conversion therapy, is covered, but little else, shows exactly what insurance companies think of autistic people: they’ll only cover us if we want to learn to be “normal”. This can leave many undiagnosed autistic adults who cannot afford analysis, insurance, or safe assistance services with nowhere to turn. If I was not on my parents’ insurance, there is NO WAY I would EVER be able to afford a diagnosis. I don’t have $2,000 lying around. The MONEY ALONE would prohibit me from getting a diagnosis, no matter how many autistic traits I presented.

When I was going through this system years ago to start a diagnosis, I was shocked to find no therapist within three hours of me was accepting adult patients. “Up to 18 only” their websites would say. And in the event I had found one (1) that accepted me as a then 20 year old with X insurance, and that person refused me diagnosis, I would be out of options unless I planned a 5 hour drive which may have also led me to another biased screener. A person seeking self financed assessment can waste thousands of dollars therapist hopping.

People will say, “Well I live in X place, and where I come from, it’s covered!” Well the reality is that everyone in the world does not live where you live. It’s not realistic to assume everyone is in the same position as you or your family to afford care or access the same resources as you. When you say, “Just go out and get a diagnosis! It’s not that hard!”, understand you are speaking from your personal vantage point where screening may be easily accessed or easily covered/is free OR you have no personal knowledge of what that process is like yourself.

The second thing that bars a ton of people from being diagnosed is the fact that when autism was first discovered, its research was HEAVILY centered on white, cis, heterosexual men. The idea that autistic people are ONLY cis, white, heterosexual men carries on to this day. If you are an outlier to this stereotype, your chances of being misdiagnosed with something else or refused diagnosis skyrocket because so-called “professionals” don’t know how to observe traits in any other person besides a cis, white, heterosexual man, and refuse/fail to recognise the endless ways in which a person can be autistic. ALL the time I hear how AFAB people will go in to get screened only to find out their screener does not believe AFAB people can be autistic, because yes, sexism and anti-lgbtq+ ideas play a huge role in the incredibly outdated diagnostic process, because autism is still believed to be an “AMAB only” thing. People report going into a therapists office and being asked questions like, “Do you like going outside? Do you like having friends?” and being told that if you agree with either of these, you cannot be autistic because criteria at some places is so backwards, you can’t even say you enjoy conversation without failing the test. Other things commonly heard during the analysis are screeners telling someone they are too smart/articulate to be autistic, gas lighting them by saying they are mistaking their symptoms for something else/making them up, telling a person they seem normal, dismissing clear autistic traits by saying they’re unique “superpowers”, or intentionally misdiagnosing a person as ADHD INSTEAD of autistic. People on social media have also pointed out what influences racism has on the diagnostic process as well and how lack of research and understanding of autistic POC contributes to under-diagnosis and stigma has only contributed to refusal of care and under-representation of POC in the disabled community, as one autistic Black woman points out on Instagram, “I found excellent articles that support and validate my feelings and experiences, but I could find no research on autistic Black people.” Additionally, because research has primarily been done on young men, this means anyone who is not a cis man and is over the age of 18 and is seeking a diagnosis has a much higher chance of not receiving one because screeners don’t understand how autistic traits may present differently in adults, especially since adults are very likely to mask. Some autism screeners are so against autism they have told clients they would only diagnosis a person autistic if it was their last resort to avoid “placing a burden on their shoulders”. These reasons are largely responsible for why autism is incredibly mis/under-diagnosed. This ask would be the length of a novel if I included every single type of discrimination and mistreatment during the evaluation process alone, but understand it can be incredibly biased, sexist, transphobic, racist, or just flat out ableist. And guess what? Though this process can take as little as a month to get sorted, that is rare. The assessment SHOULD be very short. But a lot of autistic people have reported their diagnosis took more than 2-4 years because of having to waste time, energy, and money hopping from therapist to therapist looking for someone to take them seriously, as many autistic people compiled on the actuallyautistictiktoks page on Instagram point out.

The last thing I want to touch on is this idea that people have that self diagnosing is dangerous. “What if someone self diagnoses and they take advantage of services that are meant for autistic people?” ...The Big Things you think I am going to take advantage of as a self diagnosed autistic person, like scholarship money for instance or SSDI, I do not have legal access to without a formal diagnosis. I cannot waltz into a law firm and ask for a $5,000 scholarship for autistic people without a diagnosis, because they WILL NOT give it to me!

Let me tell you some of things I’ve “cruelly taken advantage of” as a self diagnosed autistic person. I bought glasses with blue light protection, because screen and fluorescent lighting at work and even natural blue toned light from the sky lowers my threshold for some sensory input like noise and social interaction; wearing them to work everyday has improved my sensory thresholds incredibly. I’ve talked to my manager and told him I’m autistic and that I have a hard time understanding vague direction and may need to step away briefly on occasion to tend to a shutdown before a meltdown comes on at work; he had no problem with this. I use subtitles; sometimes I have trouble processing audio or reading facial expressions and tone, and being able to see the words displayed on the screen gives me a significantly better understanding of what I watch. All my life, I have been having meltdowns which I had mistaken for mental breakdowns or panic attacks and having access to resources that walked me through preventative methods and tips on what to do if I have one has been ENORMOUSLY helpful to me. All my life, I was trying to deal with them thinking they were something else; becoming aware of this and accepting that they are in fact autistic meltdowns has helped me not only go through them, but has helped me redirect stims which at their worst previously had me hitting and clawing my arms, slapping my face, and even hitting my head. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait 4 years for a diagnosis to use resources I could be using to make my life more accessible right now!

People will say, “Oh well yeah, I don’t mean You are one of Those Types of self diagnosed autistic people, you clearly sound/look autistic, I’m talking about other people.” The thing is, there is no broad “sounding/looking autistic”, that’s stereotyping, and you can’t demand everyone who interacts with you show you their Autistic Card, because again, not everyone is able to be diagnosed, especially given the mistreatment and stigma present towards autistic people in the medical field! And what made you ask for their diagnosis? Because they “don’t seem autistic” to you? Why didn’t you ask for their diagnosis? Because they “seemed autistic” to you? By denying anyone who doesn’t have a diagnosis resources they may very well need, you are denying assistance to thousands of people who are without means to be diagnosed. And I am SO tired of seeing comments online on self diagnosis posts that “people don’t know what they’re taking about” as if they know us personally, like are you me? Are you my doctor I’ve consulted? Did you watch me academically research and consult with other autistic people about being autistic for over 3 years? I’m tired of “well, one time a self diagnosed person laughed at my actually autistic diagnosed friend...so all self dx people are evil” because there is ZERO correlation between a person being self assessed and their behavior towards a non self assessed person. The fact both those arguments are in use whenever self dx comes up is yet another form of gatekeeping.

Self diagnosing autism is not begging for attention or Evil Criminal Money Funneling Schemes. It is a result of a deeply flawed medical and insurance system that has failed to give proper attention and care to those who need it, it is a result of resources not made available, of safe support systems not there for kids and adults alike. You want to talk about what’s truly dangerous? How the hate group Autism Speaks has been parading itself around since 2005 as an advocacy group for autistic people and has been misusing millions of dollars worth of donation money and promoting stigma and hatred around autistic people; no autistic members are present on their board. How Sia and her new film Music was nominated for 2 Golden Globes despite it replacing the original autistic actor with a neurotypical actor, using offensive stereotypes, and using the main autistic character as a prop, and featured an extremely dangerous bodily restraint scene on an autistic person having a meltdown in public and featured very insensitive content due to Sia’s lack of consulting with autistic people to make the film (spoilers in that article).

Instead of policing autistic people, whether they fit your idea of what an autistic person is or not, redirect your efforts and your energy to dismantling systems and holding others accountable for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about autistic people that are legitimately dangerous on such a scale that they have created insurmountable damage to the autistic community. But I guarantee you, worrying over whether your classmate is “faking it” will not do any justice to the decades worth of discrimination autistic people face still today.

I understand. You care about the community, you don’t want autistic people to be exploited or taken advantage of. I don’t want to be exploited and taken advantage of as an autistic person, and I don’t want that for others! But I also understand that when we self proclaim ourselves as judges of random autistic strangers on the internet or start accusing people of faking or demanding to see medical paperwork from people when the basis of our suspicions is “this person doesn’t look like my stereotyped view on how I think an autistic person should act”, THAT is when you really run into trouble. Because if you are allowed to deny self dx people entrance into the autistic community, what’s stopping you from thinking you have the power to deny ANYONE entrance into that community?

And there is power in self diagnosis for many autistic people. When the evaluation system is literally rigged to set you up for failure and put you through unnecessary hardship, self dx is a self affirming, empowering tool to take back control from a process designed to gaslight and crush you. The evaluation process was NOT formulated by an autistic person, nor was it made to be inclusive of all autistic people. Until the evaluation system in place for autistic people is safe, accessible, and free to ALL, you have EVERY right to self diagnose.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 325: Deku VS the Outside of U.A. ~Conclusion~

Previously on BnHA: Ochako was all “dear bloodthirsty mob, this kid you see standing before you has fought harder than anyone and put his life on the line to protect you all, so please chill the fuck out, jesus christ. like, putting aside that he’s humanity’s best hope and so it’s very much in your best interests to let him rest and recover someplace safe so that he can keep fighting for us, are y’all seriously going to turn away an injured and exhausted child in front of his sobbing mother?? seriously?? come on now.” I’m paraphrasing here but that’s basically how it went down. Anyway so then the mob was all, “...” and Deku collapsed to his knees in tears, and Gigantic Fox Lady and Kouta ran over to give him a hug but then the chapter ended.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “FINE, YOU CAN HUG HIM”, which, was that so hard?? The U.A. Clown Mob is all “come to think of it, we’ve kind of been taking the heroes for granted this entire time, maybe we should be less passive in the future. anyway so Deku if it’s not too much to ask, can you please save everyone and fix everything.” Deku is all “I sure can, and by the way I forgive you for swarming around all menacingly two minutes ago and trying to deny me basic shelter and stuff.” Ectoplasm is all, “hey Todogang get a load of this. [walks in a circle].” Hawks is all, “that’s literally the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rat Principal is all, “anyway so that’s what your students did today, hope you’re enjoying your new *~*ROBOT LEG*~*, Aizawa.” Aizawa is all “[lots of exposition about Kurogiri and for some reason, Toga, while being all brooding and sexy].” All Might is all “[standing here right outside of U.A. doing absolutely nothing and being foreboding AF]” and that immediately sucked away all of the warm fuzzy feelings from the hugs, goddammit.

each new week has become a waiting game of “when will Deku finally get to take a bath so people will actually be willing to go near him and give him the hugs he deserves.” the stakes have never been so compelling. I’ve almost forgotten about AFO entirely

lmaoooooo

me: for the love of god will someone please give Deku a hug before I die of old age

Mineta: YOU GOT IT!! --

Iida: [SWIFTLY CUTS HIM OFF] NOT YOU

fucking losing it at Mineta’s crying face. he really wanted to hug him. I legit feel bad but this is also the funniest thing I have seen all week, omg

somehow Kouta, who last week was only a hand’s breadth away from touching Deku’s head, is now twenty miles away from him in this new chapter

can I make a Loki reference here. is this recap a good place to insert a joke about someone using a TVA time-rewinding device to fuck with my poor boy Kouta over here. well anyway there it is

AND NOW HE’S BACK ALL OF A SUDDEN OMG

(ETA: since when is he “niichan” omg?? can’t handle this cuteness.)

BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT HUGGING HIM FFFFKFFFFF. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. WHO DO I HAVE TO BRIBE AND/OR BLACKMAIL

OH NO KOUTA IS CRYING THAT’S IT I’M DONE FOR

“when I heard that lady I knew that I had to go, but then stop again within inches of actually touching you because you smell like week-old rotten onions.” listen Kouta, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but you all can’t keep doing this to me. it’s the way you guys keep teasing it. like, if you’re gonna hug him, hug him. don’t just stand there with your arms held rigidly out in front of you like a molded action figure

OH MY GOSH BUT HE SAID THE THING

KOUTA SWOOPING IN AT THE LAST MINUTE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR FIXING DEKU LIKE THAT ONE KID IN THE GROUP PROJECT WHO DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT STILL TAGS HIS NAME ONTO THE REPORT ANYWAY, WHAT A KNAVE

GASP

(  ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

SHE PICKED HIM UP LIKE A LITTLE BABY OMG?? she just leaned right over and lifted this child like he was a small animal. like a lil baby futon that she was about to hang up to dry. oh my god

-- HEY WHAT

(: well that’s extremely fucked up. though sadly not too surprising given what we just saw these past couple chapters

incidentally, I hope that anyone who was legitimately defending the civilians’ perspective earlier takes note here of how quickly that line of thinking -- “we’re just trying to keep our families safe” and all that-- can lead to straight up bigotry. if you’re willing to deny a child shelter and protection simply because he’s not YOUR child, and because you’ve decided based on Internet rumors (no real-world parallels there, I’m sure) that he might present a threat, it’s really not that much further of a leap to discriminating against entire groups of people simply because you perceive those groups as being dangerous. I’m sure the people who turned Gigantic Fox Lady away also told themselves afterwards that they did it to protect their families. “better safe than sorry.” “she’ll be fine, someone will take her in, but as for us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” people can come up with all kinds of justifications for treating other people as less than human, and the really scary thing about it is how fucking easy it is

one last quick side note, which is that Horikoshi does a great job here of showing how scapegoating works, given that AFO is the one who’s really to blame and who presents the actual threat, and yet Deku is the one who ultimately winds up being the target of the mob’s fear and outrage despite him being as much of a victim as they are. gotta love that irony, which unfortunately plays out far too often in the real world as well.

anyway I’ll get off my soapbox now, sorry about that. let us continue

YES, FINALLY OH MY GOD!!!!

AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW GIGANTIC FOX LADY BECAME THE GREATEST HERO. PACK IT ALL UP, WE’RE DONE HERE KIDS

holy shit. the real MVP right there. thanks for getting it done champ

jesus christ I have had it up to here with these people

literally the bar is set so low at this point that I’ll go ahead and take it. helping him because it offers them a tactical advantage is at least one step up from not helping him at all

“WHY NOT SHIKETSU” MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

-- thank you!!

okay this one guy with the antennae hair is having himself a character development speedrun here

-- okay, but this part?? fucking this part, right here??

can we repeat that again?? the part where this guy acknowledges that the problems of hero society were caused not just by said heroes, but also by said society?? the part where he acknowledges that they treated the heroes like celebrities who were putting on a show for them?? the part where he acknowledges that when push came to shove, the vast majority of those heroes, when faced with a situation that offered no reward, were nonetheless willing to put their lives on the line to protect the very same people who then turned around and blamed them rather than thanking them?? are the civilians of BnHA even allowed to have actual deep thoughts about this stuff. holy shit

bro!!

ANTENNAE HAIR GUY SHOVING KOUTA AND GIGANTIC FOX LADY OUT OF THE WAY TO SLAP HIS NAME ONTO THE END CREDITS AS EXECUTIVE PRODUCER. CONGRATULATIONS SON YOU FIGURED OUT THE CORE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AT THE VERY HEART OF THE MANGA. WAY TO GO BUD

meanwhile, on today’s episode of “one more chapter to go till the big volume cliffhanger, how else can I drag things out let’s see”

it’s a panel. of people’s feet. just a bunch of normal feet. with sneakers and shit

this All Might shirt guy is getting more screentime in this arc than 90% of the class 1-A kids

I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for this dude now that he’s all “if we let you stay here do you promise to somehow magically fix every single problem that we are now currently facing?” those are some ridiculously exacting standards my dude. come on now

KACCHAN SIGHTING

thank fuck I’m not the only one who’s thoroughly unimpressed by absolutely all of this lol. I feel better now. meanwhile Iida and Kouda and Kiri are ready to run over there and hug them all. you guys are way too forgiving. damn you and your pure hearts

anyway so Deku’s like “yeah, definitely”

(ETA: almost forgot to comment on the “I’m no longer alone” part – he basically corrects the guy and says “sorry, but you’ll need to direct that question towards all of us, not just me, because moving forward we’re a team.” good stuff.)

you know what though, all joking aside... fuck yeah. because perfect victory, right. the strongest guys don’t settle for anything less. so I guess Deku has pretty exacting standards himself

also can you all just take a look at this fucking kid who’s got so much light in his eyes now that I’m gonna need eclipse goggles. hot damn. “you’re welcome” says All Might Shirt Guy as he is frantically interviewed by several local news networks asking him how he daringly managed to save Deku all by himself. “well I guess I’ve just never been the kind of guy who can sit back and let a bunch of rabble-rousers blame a little kid for all of humanity’s problems. someone had to step in and take action, you know?”

oH MY GOD THE SCENE IS FINALLY ENDING

don’t let the door hit you on your way out All Might Shirt Guy

but meanwhile, sudden Tododrama action??

oh shit

there are honestly so many ways in which Ochako’s very moving speech could have wildly backfired that I genuinely have no clue where this is headed lol. how exciting!!

so now Horikoshi is once again stalling for time with random filler panels, but this one is 10x better than the shoes lol omg

(1) was Ectoplasm’s jacket always this oversized. (2) did you guys know that if you go back to chapter 319 you can see that Horikoshi gave us a sneak peak at Enji’s Sad Detective disguise and I in fact made a joke about it in the 319 recap not realizing it was actually the stone cold truth. (3) did Shouto deliberately speed up out of impatience because Hawks was walking so fucking slow and he couldn’t take it any longer. (4) and what, I ask you, is up with these dramatic speedlines. so many mysteries here. what a masterpiece

everyone is acting all shocked about something ahh what’s going on

wait what

what the heck. did they just loop around behind everyone. what was the point of that lol. “anyway, so this is what they look like from the back” well okay, thanks for that Ectoplasm

(ETA: so it seems like they were actually hanging out someplace else away from the crowd this whole time, I guess? here I thought they had more faith in Enji’s disguise. I guess Shouto and Hawks don’t particularly want to attract this crowd’s attention themselves right now either, though.)

I am so fucking confused lmao

speaking of All Might WHERE THE FUCK IS HE lol. but yes, good, OFA brings everyone together, and Hawks is very deeply moved about this out of the blue all of a sudden. you know how it is

aw heck yeah now this is another filler panel I can get behind

Mineta really wants that hug, good lord. I genuinely love this actually. Mineta if you could just stay little and cute and keep crying about how much you love your classmates in a non-gross way for the rest of the series I would be so appreciative. you’re doing great

IIDA IS HOLDING DEKU’S HAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ONE TIME WASN’T ENOUGH FOR MY MAN HE’S ADDICTED NOW

what did I tell you. Kiri wants to get all of the mob’s autographs now. Kiri you’re a peach

Shouji having a conversation with another mutant type is a very nice touch! we really need to get to his backstory soon. I feel like that casual remark from GFL earlier was kind of hinting at more to come

is this the first time we’ve ever seen the Yaoyorictionary in action?? never forget that Viz tried to call it the “Yaoyorozu Reference Book” because they hate fun

last but not least, KAMIBAKU IS BACK ON THE MENU, FUCK YEAH. Kaminari trying to spice things up and introduce a little bit of controversy by smacking Kacchan on the back of the head for god knows what. I will be deeply disappointed after this if I can’t find at least one person unironically declaring that KamiBaku is now toxic and abusive

lfkdlWLWK TODODRAMA??

oh my god. Shouto’s face. Enji’s face. the back to “oyaji” again. the blunt, not-taking-no-for-an-answer, “I don’t know how much louder the universe can scream at you that doing things alone is not it, so hopefully you got the point” directness of it. fffdlkslj I’m so ready for this Horikoshi please don’t fuck it up my expectations are so high

HOLY FUCK

I SCROLLED DOWN AND HE WAS ALL “( ❛‿❛)” AND I JUST WASN’T FUCKING EXPECTING THAT OKAY. JESUS CHRIST. GIVE ME A SEC

lol okay moment over and now Enji’s pulling his hat down all dramatically like a world-weary Cowboy

OH MY GOD WERE YOU FACETIMING??

AHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: not to put Iida down or anything, but it’s kind of strange that Aizawa is all “the class rep sure did great” when Ochako is the one that was giving that whole big speech for like twenty minutes just now lol.)

(ETA 2: “thank god Iida stepped in just in the nick of time to keep Mineta from hugging Deku.” sorry Mineta I really do like you lately but it’s still low-hanging fruit lol.)

HE LOOKS SO SAD??! HE LOOKS LIKE HEARTBREAK ITSELF??! I AM BESOUGHT WITH THE URGE TO REACH INTO MY SCREEN AND PULL HIM INTO THE SAFETY OF MY ARMS??? MY GOD, AND I THOUGHT DEKU NEEDED HUGS

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay I was gonna just hold down the letter H for a full minute and count it out loud but within about ten seconds I realized I needed to chill lol

-- but then again NO, I DON’T NEED TO CHILL, I HAVE ZERO CHILL, ACTUALLY, BECAUSE IT’S AIZAWA WITH A ROBOT LEG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

COMPLETE WITH ROBOT TOES FOR THAT EXTRA TOUCH OF AUTHENTICITY!! I LIKE HOW HORIKOSHI PUT ALL THIS EXTRA “!!!” EMPHASIS AROUND IT IN CASE WE COULD SOMEHOW POSSIBLY FAIL TO TAKE NOTICE. “REMEMBER, EVERYONE?” SAYS HORIKOSHI HELPFULLY. “REMEMBER THAT TIME AIZAWA CHOPPED OFF HIS OWN LEG?” oh wow now that you mention it we somehow forgot all about that. like who do you take us for

OH NO NOT THE SAD BOYFRIEND ANGST THAT I WAS SECRETLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WITH GLEE

well at least he’s not M.I.A. or back with the villains again like I thought he might be. still, that’s gotta be brutal to know your friend is in there somewhere, but to not be able to reach him again no matter how hard you try. that’s the kind of angst that pays off in final battles just when you most expect it. such is my hope, at any rate

what’s this now??

trying to decide if this is Horikoshi’s way of saying don’t worry about that, or his way of saying definitely worry about that lol

anyway so Aizawa is out here being all irresponsibly handsome once again. when is someone going to do something about him

here for Sexy Robot Leg Eyepatch Aizawa clenching his fists and making speeches about revenge. pretty sure we’re all here for that

WELL, WELL, WELL

IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME

I’M VERY GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE AND SEEMINGLY WELL, THOUGH!

BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THOUGH, ALL MIGHT

ffff. bracing myself for that cliffhanger next week. you’d better not touch one hair on this man’s head Horikoshi. I’m watching you 

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

-

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

-

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

[kiatheinsomniac]

1. I LOVE your writing! You're amazing! 2. If it's not too much trouble, could I request something where Ezio's wife is feeling quite insecure because she feels like she isn't as good as some of the other women Ezio has "been" with like Caterina and Ezio is trying to assure her that she shouldn't feel like that

Of course!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get round to this, I've hardly been active on Tumblr at all in quite a while but I miss it here :(

She glanced over to where the Contessa was being checked over by a doctor while Ezio worriedly looked over her. Deep down, she knew that he was only concerned because she was a powerful ally to the brotherhood and her arrest at the hands of the Borgia had put her contribution to that alliance in jeopardy. But she couldn't help but fear that he was worried because they had a history together.

Claudia had told (Y/n) enough of what her husband was like in his youth - romancing every attractive woman he laid eyes on. On good days, this made her feel special - she were the one he married, after all - but on worse ones, it made her worry that he felt he could do better and go back to some of these women. Ezio was a faithful man, especially when it came to family, but this didn't stop her from worrying that she may not quite reach what he's been treated to by other women in his past.

She must have been glaring a little too hard though, because soon enough, Claudia was by her side, her arms folded.

"The woman is fine, I have a meeting to attend and he’s holding it up to fuss over her.” She snapped in disdain, her voice lowered as to not carry across the stone walls of Isola Tiberina’s Assassin hideout. 

“I don’t like it.” (Y/n) confessed, her eyes shooting daggers at the Contessa of Forli. Claudia raised a brow at the acid in her tone, finding it so unlike her sister-in-law to be so bitter. Glancing over at Claudia’s expression of surprise, she stepped her way out of the conversation to go and fetch Ezio. He had duties as Mentor of the Brotherhood and she had the claws of jealousy tying knots at her like a marionette. Emotions were something personal to (Y/n) and she wouldn’t watch herself become a wreck over some half-disgraced woman who had lost hold of her city. 

She could remember Ezio telling her how impressed he was to see a woman running a city all on her lonesome once... 

She cleared her throat, dismissing the thought as she did.

“Ezio, our contacts are waiting for you.” She spoke up, her face and voice the mask of business to hide her feelings. 

“Sì, I just-” 

“Bartolomeo has barracks to attend to, Volpe has a tavern to maintain and Claudia has a brothel to run.” She cut him off, watching as he turned his head quickly to face her, his expression a lock of shock and offence, “While they wait for you, their factions wait for them. You keep our entire Brotherhood on hold in a most dire hour to fuss over the Contessa who I’m sure if capable enough of getting her own health in order with the medico.” Ezio had stood now from Caterina’s side, bewildered at his wife’s ill temper. 

“Amore-“

“You have a job to do so go do it!” She snapped, “I have recruits to attend to and correspondence to deal with.” And with that said, she stormed off to the study in order to deal with the letters sent from the Brotherhood’s contacts across Italia. 

She set the few recruits that she had gathered in Roma some training assignments and filed through all the available contracts in the Mediterranean, even going as far as to reorganise all the books of the study’s library. All of this was done to avoid going to bed, knowing that Ezio would be there and knowing that he wold ask her about her attitude from earlier. 

It was when she was obsessively trying to get the paperweights in position that the door opened. In stepped the last man that she was willing to face in that moment: her poor husband who had suffered the brunt of her lashing out in jealousy. 

“Gioia,” He began, his tone soft yet cautious, “come to bed.” 

“But I need to sort these out…”

“I’m sure that the papers won’t grow wings and start flying any time soon.” He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and inhaling deeply as he pressed his face to her neck, “Come, I want to hold you and talk.” 

“I just need...” She obsessively tried to get the weight to fit between the lines of the letter perfectly, some part of her mind telling her that everything would be alright if all these little things were exactly where they needed to be, that she wouldn’t have to talk about her feelings if she just got these other things sorted out first. 

“You need to lay down with your husband,” One of his palms splayed across her stomach, tenderly rubbing up and down as his other hand caressed her waist, “and let him hold you in his arms,” A soft kiss pressed to the nape of her neck, “and tell him all about what has you so stressed. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yeah, except the talking about my feelings bit.” She mumbled as the weight refused to quite fit between the lines, tears pricking her eyes, even if she tried to laugh a little. Ezio hummed knowingly. 

“Come on…”

“Ok...” She surrendered, letting him lead her upstairs with one arm around her waist while his free hand held her own, smaller, hand in his. 

He lead her up to their room where he began to strip her of her clothes that day, leaving her in a chemise. He frowned in sadness at her apathy, the way she didn’t melt into his touches as she usually would, and worry set into his veins. 

He pulled her to the bed where he lay beside her, propped up on one elbow while she laid on her back, her bottom lip trembling, eyes glassy and jaw held tight in determination to keep a cool composure. 

“What has upset you?”

“It’s stupid.” She replied simply, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you or worried you, you don’t deserve that.” She took in a quick breath and covered her face with her hands, a small sob escaping her lips, each one that followed like a pair of scissors to his heartstrings. 

“If it’s making you feel this way, it can’t be stupid.” He rested a hand on her arm and she turned away from him, her hand gripping the case of the pillow under her head impossibly tightly. 

“It’s the Contessa.” She mumbled into the plush pillow, her cheeks already heating up in humiliation, “The way you risked your life to save her today and then you were fussing over her health and...” 

“Amore, you know that I would do all the same and more for you.” He spoke, almost in disbelief that this is what she was so upset about. There was a long silence as she wrapped her arms around her torso, hoping that somehow she could physically hold herself together with her arms. 

“Why did you marry me?” Fresh tears wet her cheeks and she muffled the sound of her crying in the sheets. He drew closer to her and held her in his arms, feeling her frame jolt with each sob. 

“Because I’m in love with you.” He replied simply, “I’m in love with the way you see the world and people, I’m in love with your passion and humour and intelligence.” He squeezed her tightly. 

“But you could have had any woman you pleased, any woman you’ve been with before. The countess of Forli: the only woman strong enough to run her own city and even fend off Borgia armies.” She hesitated but now that she had bottled up such strong emotions all day, the glass had cracked and no one could hold in its contents lest they slice their hands on the glass. “And don’t think I didn’t overhear that night back in Monteriggioni when I was still just the decipherer Leonardo had sent for the codex pages.” 

Once upon a time, this would have been a time for Ezio to be boastful, but now that he was a married man, he only felt rather embarrassed instead. Looking away for a moment, his eyes came back to land upon his wife. 

“You worry that you don’t live up to the women I’ve had before then?” He asked cautiously, knowing that this question may well only make things far worse if he were wrong. 

“She’s a fucking countess who runs her own city and has her own armies, not to mention the fact that she’s also very clearly good in bed. Who am I? The goddamn babysitter of all the recruits.” She threw her hands up in the air before rolling onto her back and turning her head to face him, at last, with teary eyes. 

“You, amore mio,” He began, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek, turning his body even more so in her direction, “are the woman who stole my heart so quickly, that I simply couldn’t wait to marry you.” It was true, they had only been seeing each other for just over 18 months when he asked her to marry him. “You’re an Assassin who is fighting for everyone in Roma and then all of Italia behind her borders.” A conviction began to grow within his voice as he took up her left hand in his, holding it up so that she could see her wedding and engagement rings. “You are the only woman in this world that I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He brought her hand up to place a kiss upon her knuckles. “I have had histories with women before, we both know this… But they are the past and you,” He leaned down to place a soft kiss upon her lips, lingering and tender, “are my future.” 

A small smile quivered upon her lips as fresh tears welled in her eyes, tears of an overwhelming sentiment of love. 

“I love you with all my heart, Ezio.”

[seita]

the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie​ 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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collab masterlist!

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita. 

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together. 

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer. 

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over. 

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table. 

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party. 

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio. 

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that. 

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her. 

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single. 

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality. 

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe. 

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic. 

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed. 

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too. 

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed. 

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them. 

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours. 

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her. 

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber. 

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his. 

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing. 

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you. 

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it. 

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you. 

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that. 

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone. 

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead. 

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you. 

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator. 

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair. 

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal. 

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman. 

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana. 

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory. 

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance. 

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed. 

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you? 

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked. 

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move. 

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive. 

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation. 

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player. 

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast. 

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you. 

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room. 

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart. 

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you. 

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar. 

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock. 

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge. 

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever. 

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him. 

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again. 

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss. 

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist. 

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him. 

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed. 

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity. 

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance. 

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent. 

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out. 

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching. 

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely. 

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy. 

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt. 

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips. 

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

[mitch-the-simp]

The Only Teenage Bitch Worth My Time (Jotaro x Sister!Reader)

(I literally wrote this for my English final exam- But obviously modified and without cursing.)

(Y/n) had always been the star child; not one instance in her life had her intellectual potential been questioned by anyone in her family. Alas, this was one of those moments in which she felt like she didn't deserve to be the gifted child of the Joestar family.

Her brother, Jotaro, was as clever and quick-thinking as her, yet he was treated as intellectually challenged because of his demeanor. He was a rude teenager in his junior year that simply walked around acting like he didn't care about anything. He could walk into a restaurant and if he didn't like the food, he would refuse to pay no matter what. If you were to ask him for his opinion on how you looked, if he didn't like it, he would tell you his opinion straight up. No sugar coating, no nice little words; a simple "You look stupid." would suffice. Not to mention he didn't seem to respect his mother.

(Y/n) tried her best to appease her adoptive mother, Holly. But Jotaro? Oh, he didn't care about respect. He would talk back to her, go out and leave her to worry until he returned hours after his curfew. Yet, for some reason, their mother never scolded him. It was like she didn't even care about all that. She would let anything slide so easily. It baffled her to an impossible extent.

Yet, she knew there was more to him than that. (Y/n) seemed to be the only person he actually cared to talk to. She found it odd at first but eventually stopped asking herself why.

Jotaro would tell her about how annoying it is to walk to school and instantly be swarmed by his annoying fangirls. And with all honesty, (Y/n) felt the same way when she saw all those girls literally push her away from walking with her brother to school.

It wasn't soon until (Y/n) picked up a few delinquent habits from Jotaro, though. They were walking down the pavement as (Y/n) spoke to Jotaro, "Hey, you think I'm gonna do good in that science fair? The top prize is 148000¥!". In her hands, he held her science fair project. A small homemade printer she had been working on for months.

"You're pretty smart, I think you'll give those other nerds something to be scared about," Jotaro mumbled.

"You think you can help me set it up in the gym?" She asked smiling at him softly.

And just before he could respond, the stampede of girls ran towards them. They pushed around to be able to bother Jotaro. And when they did, one of them pushed (Y/n) out of the way, causing her to drop her project.

And that's when it happened. She balled up her fists in anger and punched the girl in the face.

Jotaro looked at her, taken aback by his sister's actions. Then he chuckled, pulled the brim of his black hat down to his face, and mumbled a proud, "Good grief." With that, he continued walking. Leaving (Y/n) alone to be caught and sent to detention, which eventually led to her being suspended for a week.

So that was exactly why she was sitting in the middle of her living room right now.

"Why'd it have to be today of all days..." she thought to herself. The reason being that her father, Sadao, came back from his Jazz tour that same day to go support her in the Science fair.

She looked around, wondering if there was anything she could do while she waited. Eventually, she decided to change out of her school uniform. Making her way to her room and changing her Japanese uniform with something that accommodated more to her Italian fashion desires.

She fixed her (H/c) hair and adjusted her (F/c) dress. Though, just as she was sliding on her boots, she heard a car in the driveway.

"Oh shoot-" she exclaimed, running out into the living room. She knew darn well that her mom had already informed her dad of her suspension. So playing it off was no option.

Her father stepped out of the car and hugged her mom. As soon as he saw him walk towards the house, she knew she was fucked.

"(Y/n), I would like to have a word with you young lady," he announced, not wasting a single second after entering through the front door.

"Yes sir." She gulped. She slowly walked towards him, already regretting what she had done earlier that day.

Her father sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him, signaling her to sit down. Once she did as instructed, her father sighed.

"(Y/n), your mother informed me of what happened in school today. Why did you do that?" he asked calmly.

(Y/n) grew nervous. She was too scared to lie to him, but would he be mad at the truth? She just knew he would, but she honestly had no choice, did she?

"I... I just hate it when all those girls crowd around Jotaro. He doesn't even want all that attention! But you know what just infuriated me?! They are constantly pushing through me to get to him! They made me drop my project! And- and you know what's worse?! I CAN'T EVEN ENJOY A SMALL WALK WITH MY OWN BROTHER! And I just thought, 'Ok, what would Jotaro do if he was as mad as I am?' And well... I don't want to excuse my actions... but it just... happened." She ranted, her voice trailing off at the end.

"I see, you were angry about a situation you constantly find yourself feeling helpless in, so you decided to strike at it as you've seen Jotaro do when he's in a problem." He spoke, attempting to understand what she meant.

"Well... he only reacts like that when someone makes him mad, so yes." She mumbled back.

"See, sweetheart, the past few years, I've seen that Jotaro looked at you as too perfect to even try to be like you. And now I see that in your own way, you see Jotaro as stronger than you. Perhaps more courageous? You have found a hidden nobility inside of him. A resilience that he doesn't even show us. And I know you admire it so much, that you wish you had the capability to be as carefree and careless as he is." Sadao commented.

"I... I guess you're right." (Y/n) admitted.

"Whether you see it or not, you two make a great duo because you're what the other wished they were. I'm not saying it wasn't wrong that you punched that girl in the face, but I'm saying that you should try to channel that newfound courage into... less violent things." He suggested.

"Just go where destiny guides you my cherry blossom," Holly added as she walked by them on her way to the kitchen.

"I'll take this as permission to be mean to people, verbally."

"Take it as you will, just don't get yourself into any more trouble, ok kid?" He clarified.

"Yes sir!" She cheered.

Sadao got up from the couch, he was about to leave the living room, when he stopped in his tracks and turned to see his daughter once again, "Oh and (Y/n)."

"Yes, Papa?"

"You're grounded."

"Awww! What about the science fair?" She asked.

"Well, you have a project to fix." He reassured her, letting her know he was still going to take her.

"Can I at least pick Jotaro up from school?"  You asked.

"Yes, but remember the conversation we had, (Y/n)." He responded as he walked into the kitchen. 

(Y/n) nodded at him, as she walked outside and laid on the grass. As she looked at the clouds. She really wished Jotaro had come to get her out of detention. Or had at least snuck her out of school for one of his smoking sessions before she got caught. Obviously, (Y/n) herself didn't smoke, so she really was just gonna sit there and maybe even snack on something while they both had a sensible conversation. 

That's where she got an idea: Jotaro was probably skipping class to smoke right now, and she had nothing to do, so she thought sneaking out of the house to hang out with him wasn't a bad idea. So she went back into the house and walked into the kitchen where her parents were talking to each other.

"Hey mom, dad, I think I'm gonna go take a nap until Jotaro is out of school." She announced.

"Alright honey, just let me know If you want anything, ok?" Holly smiled as she kissed her cheek.

(Y/n) went into her room and got a small backpack full of snacks. Slowly, she opened the door back up and ran out into the yard and out of the house's territory. Then she ran towards the school.

Once she got there, she looked around for Jotaro. As always, she found him sitting on the bleachers, cigarette in hand and black hat covering his eyes. (Y/n) made her way towards him, climbing up the bleachers and sitting next to him on the top seats.

He slowly turned to her, and chuckled, "Weren't you in detention?" 

"I was suspended you jackass." She responded.

"Oh, well that sounds bad for your permanent record," he spoke softly, taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Yeah... it was worth it though, those bitches have been getting on my nerves for some time now." She shrugged, taking a bag of chips out of her backpack.

"Really? Is it because they always push you around," he asked casually.

"Well, that's part of the issue... but mostly it's because I hate how they just won't leave you alone. It's like every hint you throw at them completely misses them! I mean, you literally call them bitches in their stupid faces!" (Y/n) complained.

"Yeah, it's pretty damn annoying..." he mumbled softly. 

He didn't want to actually thank her for getting him out of that situation; it would ruin the careless delinquent image he'd worked so hard to build. But he saw his sister's sweet gesture as the only reason why she was the only teenage bitch worth his time.

And even though he didn't say it, (Y/n) knew damn well that he was thanking her from the bottom of his heart with that response. 

"So, you want to help me fix my printer before the fair? I promise I'll let you use it." (Y/n) asked.

"Sure, it starts at 10, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah, I'm sure that if you help me we can get it done by 9:30." She spoke.

"But you have to tell me what to do, or else I'll probably fuck it up," he responded.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you, little Joot!" (Y/n) said as she pulled down his hat.

"Don't call me that you bitch." He turned away, hiding the embarrassed blush on his face.

"Come on little bro..." She pouted playfully.

Jotaro sighed, "I'm not your little bro. I was here first, you bitch." he grunted.

"Yeah, but I'm still older than you by one year." 

"Yeah, I'm pretty fucking sure that doesn't count." He rolled his eyes.

"Uh- I'm pretty sure that it does. Age is what determines who's the oldest sibling, dumbass." She said, matter-of-factly. 

"I still refuse to accept it." He grunted in annoyance

"Fine... suit yourself... little Joot.~" (Y/n) chuckled.

She wouldn't change what they had for anything in the world, and she knew Jotaro thought the same thing. Even if he didn't really tell her.