#THIS HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY DRAFTS SINCE MAY???

[meamiiikiii]

my friend and i have this ongoing bit on stream where we are going to shave the king bald...... yeah........

((there are actually two ongoing bits with the king. but i do not think anyone wants me to illustrate the second one. including myself. perhaps i am a coward and that is okay. i will not be elaborating at this time. SAFSADASDAS))

[kathonyy]

BRIDGERTON 2x05 An Unthinkable Fate

[batsplat]

"I must say that it is very difficult to have good relations when you fight for the same thing, as I fought with Sete. The trigger was what happened in Qatar in 2004. What happened in Qatar 2004.. I saw it as something dirty that I didn't expect neither from Sete, nor from Juan Martinez, who was his technical manager and who had worked with me for a long time. I felt betrayed because it was as if I was being played. Sete was a great rival and when you fight like that it's a bit like Michael Jordan says, it's something personal. With Sete what happened in Qatar made me very angry and it helped me to give my best until the end of that season and for the next one. If I had to give Sete some advice... it's better if he hadn't done it." here's the bit from route46.. i find it interesting he puts blame on juan martinez too!

(following on from this post, and will liberally include chunks I wrote in the sete post) right there's a lot to unpack here, but first of all. I haven't gotten around to watching the whole documentary yet, but I did quickly jump around to find the sete bit the quote is from and... and there is something I absolutely have to address first. because. uh. they actually interview juan martinez - sete's crew chief himself - about the whole qatar incident... and, well. he says the following (rough translation):

At no time did either Sete or I go ask for a sanction for Valentino: we went to ask for greater security for everyone. Once we go to HRC and passed on the knowledge, that we have found a Valentino technician on the track, thus modifying the state of the track, Honda decides that moment what really needs to be done is a complaint.

hold on. just one second. I did suspect there had to be something incredibly stupid at the heart of the whole thing. something that could reconcile all the contradictory information out there, help explain how everyone could feel so confident in their contradictory views. because the whole thing should have a relatively straightforward answer, right: either sete played tattletale or he didn't. and... I mean. okay, look. I'm not saying I'm with valentino on this one but... they did snitch! objectively martinez is admitting they snitched! it happened! either this was a moment of staggering naivety because what did you think hrc was going to do with this information?? or valentino was spot on and they passed on that information knowing that it was at least a possibility valentino was going to get a penalty as a result of their actions. surely it is possible to appeal to hrc on safety grounds without bringing up you saw valentino's technician on the track, who was at the time quite possibly acting quite suspiciously under the cover of night! why are you even going to hrc about this in the first place!

you do not have to be that paranoid a soul to maybe doubt whether they had the best of intentions here, no? what this would also help clear up is sete's response at sepang when asked to deny his involvement, which. I did find it an odd response! you kind of want to give the benefit of the doubt with these things, given sete's longstanding and genuine preoccupation with safety in the sport. that being said, rather than just firmly deny he was involved, he went on this long spiel about how he would've thought it'd be better for everyone to get their grid spots cleaned - and the crux of his argument amounted to how he'd be a hypocrite if he called for valentino to be sanctioned after that. which, why are you even focused so much on this - just say no, you weren't involved! look, it was better to err on the side of caution and maybe simply assume sete isn't the most skilled operator in denying allegations of gamesmanship. but this extra detail would make sete's response in that sepang presser read a little differently:

yeah, sure, I mean, if we're going to be generous here and say sete and his crew chief just innocently mentioned to hrc that valentino's technician was rubbering up his grid slot for 'safety reasons'... then nothing sete says here is technically a lie. he didn't "complain" and it was hrc who made the protest. but. but! it does feel like if sete and his crew chief really were the ones to alert hrc to what valentino's team had done... if what martinez says is actually correct, this whole incident does still read pretty differently! you know how sete says "they" had blocked him from cleaning the grid? it feels like a pretty reasonable assumption that the "they" in question refers to hrc. if hrc blocked sete from rubbering his own grid and he then went to tell them about what valentino had done, did he really expect honda to go 'oh that's all right then, I suppose we'd better rubber up your grid slot too'? seriously? (incidentally, do we think the mechanic who gave evidence was martinez himself)

juan martinez does also go on to say this:

What he does in the end or what he has always done, that's what he does, is turn his story into his truth, which gives him his motivation and that's it. It doesn't mean that it's the truth, it means it's Valentino's truth. The fact that it is his truth or that it is my truth about some things does not mean that it is the truth. When you are fighting for something in sports, there is a moment that you lose sight of the complete picture.

which, yes, this isn't terrible as insight into valentino's character, and mayhaps we can return to this at a later date. but, also, can I just say, if you go! to hrc! to tell them the man they hate! who you are engaged in a tight championship fight with! which has only FOUR ROUNDS TO GO! has maybe had his team do something a little sketchy! and then hrc ensures he gets a penalty for it! come on. specifically after you've been blocked from doing the same thing? could you really not have expected that hrc would go on to file a complaint with race direction? seriously?

incidentally, valentino did already pin the blame on martinez at the time:

well, you can still give sete the benefit of the doubt here I suppose, if you so choose. still, is valentino really just 'telling a story here and turning it into his truth'? the generous interpretation of what happened here is that sete accidentally helped cause a back of the grid penalty, and that's the generous interpretation! hey, maybe martinez is getting his story wrong, maybe he's lying, you never know. but let's just say for a moment that this is the truth... let's just that martinez and sete really did pass on this information with innocent intentions in the name of safety. would this not still make sete's rhetoric after the event a teensy bit disingenuous? it's one thing to say 'yeah this was a misunderstanding, hrc was out for you and we accidentally helped provide the material they needed to bag you a penalty'... it's quite another to say valentino fabricated this whole thing out of thin air, like you had absolutely zero involvement in the whole thing. was this really a feud valentino just invented out of nowhere?

anyway, enough motogp-flavoured true crime investigation... and listen, I do want to reiterate what I said here:

let's be clear here - even if sete did have some involvement in the penalty, obviously valentino's response to the whole thing is still a bit bonkers. like, it's definitely petty behaviour from honda. given the whole 'using a scooter to rubber up the track' does seem like it was at the very least a bit of a grey area in the rules, hrc getting valentino penalised for it is... well, it's all pretty undignified from everyone involved. that being said, valentino did vow to destroy sete and spent the next one and a half seasons tormenting him. some people would consider that a little bit of an overreaction, even if the whole thing wasn't based wholesale on delusion. at the end of the day, he did still do all that stuff

so, anyway, let's get into it! going to go all in here and tackle this shit line by line:

"I must say that it is very difficult to have good relations when you fight for the same thing, as I fought with Sete."

right, so this is obviously a commentary on his natural understanding of how rivalries work... how he believed his relationship with sete was destined to change as a result of how, starting in 2003, they were directly competing. this gels with the limited mentions we get in his autobiography of sete in 2003, which were coloured by how he believed sete had already been praying on his downfall before their actual friendship break up (here and here):

what valentino is saying here is basically a slightly more concise version of what I put in the sete post:

and, yeah, this is a natural element of competition - it's generally accepted that maintaining friendships at the sharp end of professional sports with your competitors is either extremely difficult or straight up impossible. (like marc put it in august 2015: "it's true that before the relationship was different, but because we were not fighting for the championship. it's not the relationship like a friend".) obviously there's still a fairly significant difference between 'friendship' and 'good relations' (and 'actively feuding'). but valentino is acknowledging it is just kinda part of the game... something he's willing to exploit if need be (see here for speculations on how the sete feud changed valentino's approach to rivalries in general). it was always going to be tough for that relationship not to go downhill, and valentino accepted as much. he was also clearly a lot more ready for it to come to that than sete was

"The trigger was what happened in Qatar in 2004."

there's always something interesting about what incident parties identify as the turning point in these rivalries. with sete/valentino, you could reasonably point to three different episodes:

assen 2004: last lap overtake resulting in contact that left sete 'angry', though publicly he turned the page pretty quickly. the first obvious public sign of tension between the pair

qatar 2004: for obvious reasons. the allegations of gamesmanship that made valentino openly turn on sete and end any cordial relations between the two of them, let alone friendship

jerez 2005: the most contentious on-track incident between the pair of them that continues to be infamous for the final corner contact and the post-race theatrics

valentino, when he talks about this rivalry, does seem to always go for qatar. yes, he's talked about jerez, but he doesn't bring it up when he's asked about the relationship between the pair of them. the sample size here is admittedly pretty small, but he answered in a similar way in 2015:

sete, by contrast, is generally more hung up on jerez. he's mentioned qatar a few times when commenting on how valentino had suddenly switched up towards him, but more often than not it's jerez. part of this is just... well, he's really focused on the moral injury aspect of what happened at jerez, where he feels very strongly he was wronged - and even more than that, that the incident set a bad precedent. he discusses valentino a bit in that three hour podcast episode he went on and it's basically entirely focused on that last lap corner

which, you know, if somebody manages to successfully 'put a curse' on you, I do get why this probably isn't the bit of the story you want to bring up by your own volition. it's also the kindest narrative to sete - because if it's all about his jerez, then his decline in that rivalry is more about a moral stance than it is about valentino successfully crushing his spirit

that's the thing, right... both of these choices of turning points, qatar and jerez, represent something to the two parties, and both narratives flatter the person telling them in some way. in both cases, it's about their rival doing something that's unacceptable, immoral, 'dirty' in some way... they're accusing each other of stepping outside of the bounds of what is 'acceptable' behaviour for competitors. they're accusing each other of not playing fair, of not playing the game like it should be played. this is what makes the dissolution of their friendship acceptable too, right - it's not just that they're rivals, it's not just the heat of competition or whatever, it's that their enemy did something wrong. this isn't just normal competitive tension that caused their relationship to fall apart, it's foul play

now, look, I'm not going to make some ultra contrarian argument about how it's all actually about assen 2004, This Race Clash Is The One Nobody Is Talking About... BUT this was the first public incident in which sete failed to act graciously in defeat and valentino verbally noted as much. clearly the relationship was a bit strained already headed into qatar. see the autobiography quotes, see assen... also. well. check out what valentino said at the time at qatar (from here):

"I've been looking for an excuse not to talk to sete"... this doesn't necessarily contradict how valentino frames qatar as the "trigger" - the word itself acknowledges that there was something already there just waiting to be 'triggered'. in what truly is one of the all time great presser questions, the above quote is actually put to valentino in sepang with sete sitting right next to him

good vibes!

unfortunately he doesn't really clarify what he meant here, just saying something along the lines of 'well it's a new week now'. anyway, you can interpret the initial valentino quote in several different ways. you could say he was just searching for an opportunity to engineer a feud with sete and was willing to seize on any opportunity, however flimsy. or you could say valentino had already grown suspicious of sete - presumably as a result of several past incidents between the pair of them. the stuff vale mentions in his autobiography about how sete had been predicting him to fail at yamaha, what happened at assen... again, it's the idea that sete covets what valentino has, that he's been performing graciousness - perhaps, from assen onwards at the latest, a little less successfully so. perhaps valentino just wanted to create a little more distance between the two of them for his own sake, make it easier to fire up his competitive juices - and that's what he needed an 'excuse' for. or perhaps what valentino meant was something along the lines of 'I suspected he was a snake and now he proved it'. whatever it was, it must have been enough for valentino to be ready to pull the pin on that particular friendship. so yes, qatar is the trigger. even if it triggered something that had already been festering for a much longer time

"What happened in Qatar 2004... I saw it as something dirty that I didn't expect neither from Sete, nor from Juan Martinez, who was his technical manager and who had worked with me for a long time."

okay I already discussed the descriptor of 'dirty' for sete's actions. it's something underhanded, it's something valentino doesn't like - snitching on your rivals as a dishonest way of beating them. athletes can build up incredibly convoluted frameworks of what they consider acceptable and unacceptable behaviour, and a lot of the time it is self-serving bullshit.... but it can be self-serving bullshit with an internal logic of sorts. like, this is the thing right, is going to race direction to play tattletale inherently morally so much worse than various valentino behaviours he openly admits to? eh. but for him, he sees this as a fundamentally 'dirty' and ugly way of trying to win. the stuff he does is fair game, but going around trying to find obscure rules that might not even technically exist to fuck over your rival is not okay. that's not how you should fight to win

the martinez angle has also already been mostly covered above... I was aware they'd worked together before martinez moved to the gresini team (while valentino was still at honda by the way, this wasn't a case of martinez choosing against jumping ship to yamaha when valentino left) - but it's still nice to get the confirmation that they'd worked together for a "long time". obviously, this is a fun element of 2004 in general, the extent to which valentino's sworn enemies are all the people he was working alongside in previous years, how vicious the break up had been. this was also in itself a nice source of motivation, and initially that season was as much about spiting honda as it was spiting his specific rivals who had been so wedded to the narrative that valentino was on the superior bike. though it should be noted valentino wasn't disillusioned with, like, the honda rank and file, mechanics and so on - more with honda management and the engineers. here from his autobiography:

and martinez himself was also a suspension technician in valentino's team. which, yeah, valentino feels hurt on a personal level! this is somebody he had worked with and trusted who has (allegedly) decided to do something so underhanded specifically to spite valentino! from the same autobiography excerpt as above:

rivals are one thing, you've kinda gotta expect the worst, but he does take this type of relationship very seriously. presumably it really twisted in the knife for him, this notion that one of his former team members was willing to do something this 'dirty' to him. valentino didn't expect it! not from sete and not from somebody he'd worked with for years! that's the bit that made it unforgivable, the previous personal relationships that valentino felt weren't being honoured

(incidentally, juan martinez actually ended up being nicky hayden's crew chief... during his time at ducati, where of course hayden would be reunited with valentino for two years as teammates. bit awkward!)

"I felt betrayed because it was as if I was being played."

see above, not much more to add. that's what it often comes back to for valentino, isn't it. a lot of stuff is acceptable, it's just part of the game, rivalries are supposed to be feisty and fierce and a little bit ugly. but this? again, a lot of this is about internal frameworks that athletes have for what is seen as acceptable and not acceptable within competition. valentino deploys a rather liberal definition of what should be allowed both on and off the track, but this is a hard line for him. he'll accept a lot, but not what he considers betrayal. something else that remains consistent throughout his career, including as it pertains to a certain other rivalry

"Sete was a great rival and when you fight like that it's a bit like Michael Jordan says, it's something personal."

michael jordan mention, interesting in its own right! someone who's been compared to valentino in his ruthlessness and, well, cruelty (though some of the stories about jordan make valentino look like an angel lbr). a little bit of commentary to be made there on what greatness in sports generally looks like, and how it does often involve some... hm. pretty unsavoury behaviour. the two of them have actually met a couple times, in valencia 2004 where valentino took him for a ride and laguna 2005 where they partied together after the race

obviously, it's a little funny this meeting happened at valencia 2004 of all occasions, at a time in which valentino was really finding his groove where psychologically torturing his rivals was concerned. there's always something heartwarming about athletes drawing inspiration from each other, no? but anyway, coming back to what valentino actually said here - "it's something personal". just in case anyone's unfamiliar, what this is referring to jordan's habit of drawing competitive inspiration from what he saw as personal slights (there's several compilations out there of jordan using phrasing along the lines of 'it became personal with me', if anyone wants to look it up). sete inspired valentino to up his game because valentino did increasingly take it personally when sete thwarted him - and at a certain point, valentino decided that defeat was no longer acceptable at all. the best way possible to fire himself up... take it personally, and be prepared to do whatever it takes to make his enemy's life hell

"With Sete what happened in Qatar made me very angry and it helped me to give my best until the end of that season and for the next one."

well, yes! I talked a little bit here about the parallels between marc and valentino in how they use anger to motivate themselves, mainly in the context of argentina 2018. and from valentino's autobiography:

anyway, excluding the qatar fiasco itself where he lost his temper, it's fun that he acknowledges explicitly here that the anger provided him with a good source of competitive fuel. note also the time span - the last three races of 2004 as well as the entirety of 2005. sete wasn't really a title rival any more in 2005, not after jerez, but he was still a serious on-track threat... if your goal isn't just to win the title but also to prevent sete from winning a single further race, then sure, he's still very relevant! so that rivalry was still a big part of his competitive make-up a full year after sete could no longer seriously challenge him for a title, and valentino does have enough self-awareness to consciously take advantage of that fury when he can. he probably never did that better than in 2005... his brain controlled his fury - and at every single opportunity he used it to beat sete further into submission

"If I had to give Sete some advice... it's better if he hadn't done it."

iconic banger line. evil laugh afterwards. 10/10 no notes

[harwin-breakbones-strong]

"I wouldn't joke about death. Or one of my patients."

Ryan Corr as Ben Williams in HUNGRY GHOSTS

[gumbuk9]

i believe if you're writing a fictional character you must make them fight Goku atleast once. doesn't matter who the character is or what kind of universe they're in, they must fight Goku.

adapation of Sherlock Holmes in a 100% realistic setting? Goku.

sapient computer assistant inside a computer? Goku is in that computer.

object show characters? make them fight Goku, either human or object Goku will work.

if you have a fictional character in your head you must make them fight Goku at least once, this should be required by law.

i should also add that there is no avoiding fighting Goku, there's no "oh Goku would be friends with them" or "the character would just avoid the fight". there's friendly play-fighting, there's sparring, there's full on deathmatching, but there is no tea time with Goku, the fight must happen.

[hungrydolphin91]

was skimming through a muted Graces LP that I THOUGHT had no commentary in order to fact check some dialogue but instead I found this, I WISH Asbel had said this it would have cleared some things up sooner 😂

[seventh-district]

so was anyone gonna tell me that Neil Newbon is the VA for Astarion or was i gonna have to find that out myself when he suddenly started uploading his playthrough of the game on YT

[homosexual-fanfiction]

by the way to everyone who's commented and has not received a reply i am very grateful for the love and very sorry that i have not said anything. it's just that i tripped and fell in a puddle and im still sitting in the puddle and i will remain in the puddle for a while but i see and appreciate the words that have been left for me

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[zibanejad]

[apocalyptic-byler]

i realized i had a crush in october. ok so that means that i deserve to be given a sweater (preferably polyester) on the 3rd of december

[moonstruck-writing]

Perfect Cracks

Fandom: Paradox Live Characters: Shogo x Toma Rating: E C/Ws: nsft, established relationship, strays from canon, fluff (and some angst) with a happy ending. Summary: Shogo and Toma share an intimate moment Word count: 6k A/N: I wrote this like half a year ago but never uploaded it so that’s some context I guess?

It only took one button for the radio interview to be over. The sign “on air” turned off immediately after the rushed ending of their segment. Even if it was short, they didn’t forget to thoroughly thank the host and all the staff that had made it possible for them to be there as VISTY. Then, and only then, they left the room and started making for the entrance of the building.

“Were you glad it was a radio interview and not a video interview, Toma?” Shogo leaned against the wall opposite the elevators. He still remembered the day before, when Toma had had a face crisis after some pimples appeared on his usually flawless skin. But his skin was usually flawless only because he made sure to take extremely good care of it. And so he doubled the efforts in his skincare routine.

However, that had already been forgotten by Toma, so he couldn’t understand why his partner was smiling. A relaxed, carefree smile. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve never imagined that Shogo had felt nauseous before they went live.

“I cannot say I am glad our fans didn’t get to see me today, can I?” He tried mimicking Shogo’s smile, but his personality made it brighter. It was a shame that the same personality hid a dam of insecurities ready to burst.

“Come on, guys!” Kantaro urged them from inside the elevator before turning to talk to Aoi again.

It was easy to lose themselves in the excitement and relief of the job done. They talked together about how it had gone, and about their expectations and hopes for the near future. Even if VISTY was made of very different people, they clicked in an effortless manner. Or perhaps, it wasn’t that effortless. They had to pull themselves up after their leader left. It hadn’t just been Shogo taking the lead that restored their strength, but all of their members individually, who made a conscious choice – they would choose each other, they would choose VISTY, no matter what happened.

When they left the building it was already night outside, and all of them felt the relief from only having to walk a bit before their hotel came into sight. Now that they were more popular, their manager had announced they could afford those commodities. Before, they would’ve had to take the train back home, but not now. Things were really changing for the better.

They walked from the lobby to the elevators, having already checked in before the radio show.

“Why do I have to be the one taking care of Kantaro?” Aoi huffed while taking out from their trousers’ pocket the card to their shared room.

“Aoi, don’t be like that! We’ll have tons and tons of fun tonight, I promise~”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t go ego-surfing online.” Toma rested his arm on top of Kantaro’s shoulders.

“But you guys also want to check what people are saying about us, don’t lie.” He took his phone but it was taken from his hands before he could type or scroll.

“Confiscated.” Shogo chirped.

“What? You can’t do that!” Kantaro puffed his cheeks, frowning at him. That reaction didn’t get much attention, but Shogo passed the phone to Aoi once they got inside the elevator. They would part ways as soon as they reached their floor, and Shogo didn’t want anyone to bother him in the middle of the night. He wanted his time to be his – and Toma’s.

He looked at the reflection of his lover in the elevator’s mirror – he was checking himself out like Shogo expected. If he didn’t know better – like he didn’t know at the start of their relationship – he would’ve thought Toma was checking whether or not his appearance was right for Shogo. But now, he hoped it was the other way around. There wasn’t anything that Shogo wanted more than seeing Toma not care about his appearance around him.

He had desired that for weeks now. Long weeks where he had tried it all: complimenting Toma, not paying attention to his physique at all, and anything in between. But his goal was proving more difficult than he had believed at first. No matter what he did, Toma always had the same cheerful and carefree – yet perfect – smile plastered on his face. Because it was plastered – it didn’t flourish naturally from his heart, but it was a shield, a fence surrounding the innermost feelings of his being. And Shogo yearned to be able to peek through, to see Toma fully, with all his different sides.

There had been times when he had thought Toma’s façade had faltered for a couple of seconds, moments in which there were cracks separating his persona from the real him. But they were only fleeting moments, and as soon as Shogo believed he was witnessing one, it ended.

The doors of the elevator opened and the group split. When Shogo and Toma were finally alone inside their room, a deafening silence greeted them. Shogo sighed with relief – he had been yearning for this peace and quiet since his stomach had started churning before the interview. Now he could finally be himself, without having to assert his identity outside of his family. Here with Toma, he was simply Shogo, not someone who carried the Yamato surname like a signpost that prevented anyone from seeing him.

Toma smiled and turned on all the lights in the small room, bathroom inclusive. He peered inside, excitedly calling for Shogo to come join him.

“Shou-chin! Check out this shower, it’s way modern~” he went inside and inspected the shower controls. “There’s even this rain effect, how cool is that?”

Shogo took in the excitement that Toma’s voice carried and gathered enough energy to finally move away from the entrance and into the bathroom. His body naturally found Toma’s and he hugged him from behind, resting his chin on his lover’s shoulders.

“Do you want to take a shower first, Sho-chin?” Toma turned his head slightly, enough to make eye contact with him. He shook his head slowly. “No? Then I’ll take it first.”

“I don’t want that.” Shogo squeezed him tighter. “We can take a shower later.”

“How impatient~ I’ll only be a moment, yeah?” Toma took Shogo’s wrists with his hands and pulled them away from his waist. Once Shogo let go of him, he turned around and gave him a relucent smile. “Now go and explore the rest of the room.” It was clearly an invitation to leave him alone, and Shogo felt a sting in his heart. How could they be so close and yet so far away? There was nothing to explore really, not when they had already left their bags inside when they checked in earlier, before the interview.

He reluctantly left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He pulled the curtains, making sure their room was shielded from the outside world, and he finally laid down on one of the beds.

Yes, one of the beds. Shogo felt another sting in his heart. He knew they had to remain professional, that work and love were a difficult combo to handle, but that only arouse another desire in his heart. It was small and stupid, but he wanted a big double bed. One bed, not two. It was only one object, and it wouldn’t even change the way they slept together, but Shogo wanted it with all his being. It was a symbol. One bed meant a certain shared experience that he felt was present now, but not completely. Somehow the barriers of the individual sheets seemed to be there representing something more, something that wasn’t as easy to eliminate as simply moving the two beds closer together.

He heard the shower being turned on and instinctively turned to look at Toma’s side of the room. All of his luggage was there. He hadn’t taken anything into the bathroom, had he? The thought of Toma appearing before him with only one towel tied to his waist was alluring, but it was quickly substituted by another thought: he hadn’t taken his make-up remover inside. It was nothing new, really, he never did. Whenever they spent the night together, Toma was always wearing make-up.

Shogo kicked off his shoes as if trying to quick away those negative thoughts. He had to focus on the positives. He wanted to. Like how they were going to spend the night together. That was good enough to overlook anything else. It had to be.

True to his word, Toma was quick and the water noises stopped soon enough. It was like a signal that seemed to remove a layer of tiredness from Shogo’s body. He would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to tonight throughout the day. Even if he harboured secret desires in his heart, the biggest of his desires was Toma himself – with everything he came with.

And even if Shogo wished he only came out of the bathroom with a towel tied to his waist, the reality was a bathrobe.

“You were quick.” Shogo sat down on the bed, waiting for Toma to approach him.

“Yeah, you can shower now.” There was a small smile on his face, almost court, and Shogo didn’t like how it seemed to be laughing at him, saying ‘you can’t read Toma’s emotions at all, can you?’

“I’ll be back before your hair has dried.” He pointed and stood up, walking with big strides towards the bathroom. He didn’t see how Toma’s smile faltered when he mentioned his just-washed hair.

And true to his word, Toma was still patting gently his wet locks when Shogo came back to him, also wearing a bathrobe.

“You look fancy wearing that bathrobe, Sho-chin~”

“I should’ve worn just a towel, it’s too hot with this.” He unfastened the belt a little, allowing some space to open his chest area.

“I think you’re too hot, too.” The words froze Shogo, who was fanning himself, leaving his hand to stand in the air motionless. Toma was always too good to him.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. Perfection right out of the shower.” He knew he had overdone it the moment the words left his mouth. He wasn’t as good as Toma at complimenting others. And he saw how the corners of his lips pushed up in a forced gesture. He had really done it now.

“Mi- mi-,” Toma struggled with the words, the clear shock of unpleasant surprise making him stumble. “Sho-chin!” Wordless, he decided to approach him and take one of his hands in his to walk him to the bed. His body could always speak fluidly whenever he didn’t find the words, even if Toma didn’t trust his body as much as he seemed to do.

Then, pushing Shogo’s body down, he climbed onto the bed next to him and without saying anything else, kissed him, as if to turn over to a new page.

Toma’s kisses were golden like a coin – and had a double quality to them too. There were playful kisses full of energy and curiosity and even a hint of vulnerability, the real Toma, without filters. There were insecure kisses, hesitant, gentle and sweet, as if waiting to be ordered otherwise. And his kisses were never one or the other, but a mixture of both, making Shogo anxious to pay attention and keep up with every move, every ebb and flow of energy and emotion.

But before Shogo could map the inflexion of Toma’s kisses at that moment, he broke the kiss and started undressing Shogo, opening the upper part of the bathrobe even more, and leaving his chest and shoulders completely exposed. The firm flesh of his arms was still left covered, and Toma smiled in anticipation of what was to come later.

But before Toma could do anything to all that exposed skin, Shogo closed the distance between them and pressed open-mouthed kisses to his cheek, his jaw and down to his neck. When he was stopped by the barrier that the bathrobe created, he didn’t bother with the clothes but instead travelled back up his neck and breathed into him, taking in his scent and the reaction that his actions were eliciting from Toma. His skin was already beginning to flush red, and even if he had re-applied make-up while Shogo was in the shower – the smell and texture were undeniable when Shogo pressed his lips to his face – there were pink patches flourishing on his neck, where the light foundation hadn’t been applied.

Shogo felt troubled when he looked at Toma’s face. He was still frustrated – or rather, newly frustrated – that Toma didn’t allow him to see his bare skin. He wanted to kiss and devour every inch of him, take him in, make him his. It’s not that he couldn’t do it with the light makeup Toma used, but as much as Shogo wasn’t bothered by petty things, he felt it was something that prevented him from licking his face to his heart’s content. So he settled for his ears.

Mostly unpierced and yet as sensitive, if not even more sensitive than his own, Shogo found Toma’s ears incredibly seducing. Or maybe it was the noises that Toma made whenever he sucked on his ear lobe, graced the shell of his ear with his teeth, or lightly played with the ear canal and licked the ridges that adorned that part of him.

Toma tugged on his clothes, both trying to stay afloat with all the sensations and to get his attention.

“Sho-,” his voice died as his breathing got laboured, shortening the nickname. It sent a flame through Shogo’s lower body, and suddenly he felt restless. Wanting to take things slow, Shogo broke away from Toma and started frantically taking off his bathrobe, because it was annoying, it was getting in the way of things – in the way of their bodies, of feeling and being closer, as close as possible.

Toma laughed lightly, observing him with a loving look in his eyes. And Shogo knew that twinkle was real, that was what confidence and peace looked like. And it turned him on even more.

“How can you be so amazing?” Shogo barely had time to pronounce those words before he was launching himself forward to crush his lips to Toma’s again. His bathrobe was finally discarded to the side of the bed, so he was completely naked, but he didn’t have time to think about the order of things or whether he was being too greedy, or too quick. All he knew is he needed Toma, and he wanted to have him all for himself.

A moan died in Shogo’s throat when he felt Toma’s palm firmly pressed against his member. The muscles on his arms, which were holding him upright above Toma, trembled for a few seconds, and it felt like his head was swimming. How could he have such an effect on him, with just a touch? But it didn’t end with that touch, and Shogo had to break the kiss to get enough air to not embarrass himself by passing out so soon.

His head found shelter on Toma’s collarbone, and he pressed erratic kisses in between gasps. Fortunately, those gasps for air finally took effect, and he realized he couldn’t be losing control so soon. It’s not that he didn’t want Toma taking the reins, it’s that he hated being the one receiving more. So he moved down a little, making Toma’s hand lose contact with his hardness. Instead, Shogo tugged on his bathrobe and more of Toma’s skin came into view. Without hesitation, he used his lips to trace the edge of his nipples, making his lover jump slightly. That is a win, he thought, taking one of them into his mouth and using his tongue to play with it.

A shiver run down Toma’s body, and the hand that had been caressing Shogo quickly travelled up to his own face, to cover his mouth. The other hand grabbed a handful of the sheets, anchoring him in a reality whose edges were beginning to get fuzzy with pleasure.

“Shogo,” the name was both strong and sweet on his lips, and it almost didn’t make it past the hand that was preventing more moans from spilling out.

“Yeah, Toma?”

“I-…” He sighed, frustrated and embarrassed. It was almost like a ritual by then, whenever they were being intimate, Toma would call him by his name, no nicknames, no honorifics, nothing. Just Shogo. He always thought he sounded both in love and desperate whenever he pronounced his lover’s full name, and he felt complicated about it.

“Mmm?” Shogo chirped while sucking on his nipple. He didn’t stop until he felt the bed slightly bounce from Toma’s pleasure. “What is it, Toma?” He finally looked up, and when he saw his face, he was suddenly very aware of how hard he was. Or rather, how hard Toma made him.

His eyes were tightly shut, and his hand was covering half of his face, but he looked incredibly attractive at that moment, and Shogo felt like bitting him, marking him, making him his. He loved how sensitive his skin was, the blush that adorned his ears, making him look healthy and sexy, and the red patches that covered his neck and chest, proof of the heat that was permeating through his body. He wanted to embellish the redness spreading through his body, but he refrained from painting his skin with love bites. He didn’t want Toma to look in the mirror and think that letting go led to ugliness. He wanted to show him that he could be himself and glow. He wished he could take a picture, or get a mirror, and show him how truly beautiful he was. But he also knew that would completely throw Toma out of the moment. So he only traced his skin with delicate kisses, taking in the moans and goosebumps that he was eliciting from his lover.

“Shogo,” he tried again, this time the need and desire pushing him further. “I want more.”

“Mm? More of what?” He teased back.

“I am re–,” a short moan cut him mid-sentence, shaking his whole body, “ready,” he continued once his brain wasn’t filled with fireworks. He wanted Shogo to be quick, to not play around, even if it wasn’t embarrassing for any of them to say things clearly.

“Ready for me to take this off?” Shogo sat up straight, gaining some distance to look at the work of art that was his lover. His chest was flushed and wet with Shogo’s kisses now. It sent an electric current from his brain down to his pulsating lower region. Oh, how he loved seeing his expressions.

Toma nodded briefly, using the hand that wasn’t covering his face to help Shogo in unfastening the bathrobe’s belt completely. As if having been released from a cage, his body sprung up like a flag signalling his desire. Shogo didn’t even have time to think before his body moved and he licked a stripe from the base to the tip. The sudden wet contact made Toma buck his hips.

“I love you so much,” Shogo muttered against his skin, planting kisses on both sides of his hips. Toma felt overwhelmed and light all at once, and for just a moment he almost removed the hand that was covering his face. He wanted to touch Shogo, needed to ground himself through him, needed to feel him, because there was no other way he could correspond to his actions, no other way he could express what he was feeling. Words were not enough, and they didn’t exist in his mind at that moment. Words came later. Now it was only an ever-expanding feeling, an emotion so intense Toma could feel it wasn’t just inside of him, but it existed in the room, enveloping them.

Shogo moved down the bed, enough to plop himself down, and he kissed the inside of one of his thighs. Then, he rested his head on the opposite thigh and looked up, not being able to see much besides the heaving chest of his lover. He snuck a hand up until he found the hand Toma was fisting around the sheets. Like snow melting and turning into liquid, their hands found each other, and their fingers naturally intertwined.

And mimicking that melting of bodies together, that finding and holding and sheltering, Shogo’s tongue began exploring his body, soon enough asking for permission to go deeper. There was a gasp, half moan, half surprise.

“You’re not using lube?” Toma wanted to raise his head and look at Shogo, but his body lacked the strength to do so.

“I don’t need it.”

He thought about complaining, but he really didn’t want to. They had no rush, and nowhere to be – this time belonged to only them, and there were no rules about how long they had to take.

Shogo continued pampering him, losing himself in the reactions his movements caused. The fluttering of muscles, the sounds Toma made, he wished he could keep that in one section of his heart and never forget the moments they had together. Moments where the barriers between them became thinner, so thin Shogo could almost feel their souls pressed against each other.

When everything started feeling like too much, Toma squeezed Shogo’s hand. The signal made him stop and prop himself up to observe him carefully. It was a miracle how Toma could feel his gaze even in the state that he was in, but it was only because Shogo’s gaze was especially intense whenever it was directed at him. In the daze, Toma finally removed his hand from his face in an attempt to see him better – but he didn’t realize that left him exposed. Exposed to Shogo’s eyes, and he almost said thank you to the heavens out loud when he was finally able to see Toma.

His skin was glowing with sweat, and his lips were swollen from all the futile attempts at muffling his moans. His pupils were larger than usual and some of the foundations had started crumbling around his nose and on the space between his eyebrows. His hair was messier in a different way from his usual hairdo – this didn’t necessarily scream fashion, but rather wildness. Some of his bangs were stuck to his forehead and his longer locks were stuck to the sides of his face and neck. The rest was looking rather tangled and spread out, flowing disorderly around him. It wasn’t until Shogo saw that, that he realized how much Toma must’ve moved and thrashed about because of him.

Shogo smiled. It was all he could do, his first and only reaction to getting a bit of what he had always wanted – a raw Toma, naked in a different sense. And his smile was all it took for Toma to hide his expression with his hands.

It wasn’t that Shogo’s reaction was bad, it was the opposite. Toma had hoped but had never truly expected that to happen. He didn’t believe if he showed himself to Shogo, his lover would accept him completely. He couldn’t. There was no way it was possible. He knew he had to stay perfect to be loved. That’s how things worked. And yet, Shogo showed him a different reality. A reality where unconditional love was possible. And it scared him.

If he earned things because he worked hard, it was something tangible, a sort of cause and effect. But how could he claim he was enough without doing anything? And yet, he had seen Shogo’s expression. He would never be able to forget it in his entire life. The look, the feel of that love. A love he had almost stumbled upon. A love that had come naturally. A love that told him he glowed when he was doing his best, but that it was completely fine if he didn’t do his best, too.

How could he live with himself knowing this love? A love that debunked everything he believed in. What was he going to do with himself? If he stayed the same, Toma felt he would be betraying Shogo. But he wasn’t ready to change yet.

Shogo felt his stomach drop when Toma covered his face again. He must’ve hurt him, he was sure. He hadn’t been able to convey his happiness, or maybe what Toma needed wasn’t him getting joy from that.

“Toma,” he quickly crawled up until he was above his body, and gently put a hand to the side of his cheek – the only part of his face that was left uncovered. “Please, look at me.”

“I can’t.” The words were muffled, so he couldn’t tell if his voice was trembling or if it had just been his mind playing tricks.

“I love you,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering. He didn’t want to scare him further, but he wanted to communicate the truth. There was a moment of silence, and then a sound, half sob and half groan.

“I know.” Toma lowered his hands enough to uncover his eyes, and Shogo felt relief wash all over him when he confirmed he wasn’t crying. That made him stumble forward when Toma suddenly surrounded his neck with both of his arms and pulled him into a kiss.

Their bodies crashed together, hearts beating hard and fast. It was a new type of kiss, Shogo noted. He didn’t understand it, but he knew he loved it. The overwhelming assertiveness, Toma’s passion… it felt way more than a kiss, but anything that they did together was more than simple actions.

When Shogo broke the kiss to look again at Toma or to breathe – he wasn’t sure which came first – Toma moved to lavish his ears with little licks and nibbles. They both felt the reaction of his body to that, the throbbing, and yet no sounds came out of him.

“Let me hear you?” It was a breathy whisper, and it made Shogo shiver with pleasure. He loved his voice so much, so he understood that Toma also loved hearing him. It just wasn’t something that came naturally to him. But he was working on it. For now, all he could do was close his eyes and focus on the sensation of Toma kissing his ears. His breathing became heavy and fast quickly, and another throbbing started between their bodies.

He couldn’t hear much besides the wet noises that filled his brain, so when Toma finally stopped feasting on his ears, he wasn’t ready for that look. At some point, Toma must’ve reached for the condom that was on the nightstand, because he was now holding a corner of it between his teeth, making the little plastic bag stick out over his mouth and chin.

“You’re so sexy,” Shogo said before planting kisses all around Toma’s mouth. He then proceeded to take the package from his mouth and ripped it open. While he was placing it on himself, Toma grabbed the lube. Even if he was more than ready thanks to Shogo’s attentions, it never hurt to be extra careful.

Shogo took the lube from him and they exchanged places, Shogo now lying down on the bed, pouring the slightly cold liquid onto his body. Toma straddled him and discarded his bathrobe next to him on the bed after placing the bottle back on the nightstand. He kissed him, feeling a contrast between the coldness that was greeting his exposed back, and the heat that Shogo continued creating in him.

And then, they became one. It was so simple, so natural, they had done it countless times already, and yet every single time felt like the first time. Shogo tried to keep his eyes open to take in Toma’s expression, but he couldn’t fight the intense sensation that urged him to close them. When he opened them again, Toma was already covering half of his face again, only needing one hand to support himself.

It flamed a sense of challenge inside of him. He didn’t want to have to ask him, he wanted to give him so much pleasure it was impossible for him to keep his composure. And so even if it was Toma who started moving on top of him, Shogo couldn’t keep still. He met his thrusts halfway, eliciting muffled moans from his partner.

When Toma felt his strength faltering, he dropped his head forwards, his bangs preventing Shogo from seeing his face clearly.

“We’re changing.” That’s all that Toma managed between pants, his hands now supporting his body.

“What?” Shogo itched to see what face he was making, but as much as he wanted to move, his body didn’t stop thrusting upwards.

“You get on top.” Just a second before Shogo felt the emptiness of not being that intimately connected with him. Toma quickly fell down next to him, face down. But Shogo wasn’t just going to accept making love to him facing his back. Still, he relented at first. He didn’t want Toma to be on guard, and if he needed a moment to not be looked at, he would offer it to him.

He pressed gentle kisses to his back before entering him again. He longed to see his face, he really did, even if one of his hands was covering half of it, but he had to admit now that Toma was facing away from him, he wasn’t holding back his moans anymore. He felt himself grow inside of him, causing Toma’s back to arch a bit more.

He reached around to offer some attention to his front, and Toma jumped a little.

“Is it too much?” Shogo asked bending down and placing his mouth close to his ear. They were so close that he felt Toma shaking his head. He slowed down his pace and moved away some of Toma’s hair with his nose. The action made him turn to the side to look at him, and they naturally united in a messy kiss. When they separated, Shogo felt it was his chance.

“Let me look at you?”

It was the first time he was so direct with that petition. But he had felt something was different now, in that kiss.

Toma didn’t answer at first with words, but Shogo felt him contracting around him. He didn’t know if it was a bad or a good sign, so he completely stopped moving, and started tracing his shoulder blades with kisses again.

“Okay.” It was only one word, but it felt like a weight Shogo didn’t know they were carrying had lifted from both of them. “But I want to be on top.”

Shogo felt his stomach twist with anticipation. He loved how confident he had sounded there.

They exchanged their positions again, and this time Shogo was determined to not lose a single second of Toma’s expressions. But he had other plans before he straddled him. The sensation was so light that Shogo wasn’t sure he was imagining it, but it was Toma’s smile that gave it away.

“Is this okay?” He asked gently and now the light pressure Shogo was feeling on his entrance became clear. Shogo opened his legs more in response. His touch was soft as a feather, and the sensation felt ticklish. Yet, Shogo felt his desire coiling even tighter than before.

Barely ceasing his caress, Toma straddled him again. It was only a few seconds before an explosion of sensations took control of his body. It felt like Toma was stimulating every nerve on his skin, that there wasn’t an inch in his body that didn’t belong to him. And all of it, with a satisfied smile on his face. Shogo wanted to hold him close to his body, to kiss him, to have even more of them intertwine together, but the overwhelming fog in his brain prevented his limbs from obeying him.

Toma liked playing with him in all ways possible. He liked seeing and feeling Shogo coming undone under him, under his touch and his body. He liked how it made him feel powerful and important. He was doing those things to him. And he also liked how it distracted him from his own pleasure, enough to keep a face he knew, enough to control his gestures.

But as much as Shogo was enjoying it, and he loved seeing that satisfied smile on Toma’s face, he couldn’t wait any longer. Not now that he was growing accustomed to the pleasure and he felt he could control his own body again. He unanchored one of his hands from the pillow, wanting to reach him, wanting to give Toma the same amount of overwhelming ecstasy he had received.

It was only one touch, skin to skin, and then a tightness surrounding Toma’s hardness. Enough to make him lose his composure, enough to make him tremble and start showing Shogo what he wanted to see. Just the face he loved so much losing itself to pleasure, muscles relaxing and contracting, mimicking the actions between their bodies. If it wasn’t because he felt like crying with relief, Shogo was sure he would’ve finished then and there. Seeing Toma enjoy himself freely was more than enough to send him over the edge.

“Sho–” Toma’s movements became erratic, almost to the point of not moving at all, and he slouched forward, using both of his hands to support himself.

“Yes, love?” He kept his ministrations on Toma’s member, taking in the little mewls that were coming out of Toma’s open mouth. But he wanted to see more, he wanted to look into Toma’s eyes while they made love. Harbouring that desire, Shogo propelled himself forward, sitting upright and crossing his legs.

Toma looked at him and hugged him, wanting to be anchored at that moment forever. Shogo used the proximity to kiss his neck and shoulders. When Toma finally let go enough for them to look at each other, Shogo’s chest was filled to the brim with happiness.

“I love you, Toma.” He placed the hand that wasn’t busy pleasuring him to his cheek, combing a bit through Toma’s hair so that more of his face was visible.

“I love you so much.” His voice was thick with emotion. He wanted to express his love with more than words, because in that moment he felt words weren’t enough to really make Shogo understand.

Toma combed back Shogo’s bangs that had been sticking to his now sweaty forehead and kissed him. He kissed his forehead, his nose bridge, his eyebrows, his cheekbones.

The gentleness and love gave way to passion and desire, and at some point, the kisses stopped and were replaced with moans. And then, somehow, it was like a competition to make the other reach the finish line first. Shogo started thrusting deeper and faster and continued stimulating Toma’s throbbing member. In turn, Toma coiled his legs around him and pinched and played with Shogo’s nipples.

The ending came when Toma latched his mouth to Shogo’s ear lobe. He moaned and his hips stuttered, breaking the rhythm he had set. He finished before he had hoped, and that surprise pushed Toma over the edge too. Panting, they fell to the mattress on their sides, not wanting to let go of their embrace.

After a few minutes of slow caresses and kisses, their receding body heat made them separate and start cleaning themselves up. Putting on clean underwear, Toma got under the bed sheets first. When Shogo finished putting on his pajamas, Toma stopped him before he could climb to the other bed.

“Won’t you sleep with me?”

It was the first time he ever made such an invitation. Usually, they were practical about it and slept in their individual beds, not wanting to bother each other. He was so surprised he couldn’t even reply but simply moved to Toma’s bed. Getting under the covers, he understood now why he wasn’t wearing any pajamas. Wanting to feel him closer, Shogo took off his top, and they cuddled up together.

Without saying anything else, they fell asleep. Their calm beating hearts, shared touch and the sound of their breath lulled them.

.

.

.

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A/N: This was just going to be some smut and then I got hella emotional so this beast came out *looks at wordcount* yeah don’t ask me how that happened.

Masterlist | AO3

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay! Characters belong to their rightful owners, the plot and content here belongs to @moonstruck-writing

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[highlifeboat]

Angela: Lake, are you high?

Lake: Am I what?

Angela: High.

Lake:

Lake: Hi~~

[grcveyacd]

/ i'm going to be a bit slower the next few weeks cause of my friends upcoming wedding. so, replies will be a bit slower on my end. i am willing to do small things on discord though if anyone would like to do a thread over there? my discord is under the read more :)

[gritty-big-naturals]

bitches only want me for my haunted arsonist clown painting 😔