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#also ask me questions about it if you want to i could talk about it for ages
cinnamorollcrybaby · 8 hours
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I really loved your career day fic and I was wondering if you could do a Shut up mom fic with the same lineup with nanami tho if you write for him🥺 👉👈
Shut up, Mom!
Tags: teeth rotting fluff, mostly crack, cursing, jjk men as dads / fem!reader
An: I would be delighted to write this anon :) my requests are open, loves. If you want me to write a specific idea, definitely ask and I’ll try to deliver on it! also, if anyone wants to be on a taglist please let me know. So, I gave Sukuna a kid in this one because I didn’t really see Yuji calling you mom or him dad. Yuji calls you two unc and auntie :)
SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI
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SATORU
“Aoi, did you take out the trash?” You ask your nine-year-old son while trying not to giggle. Aoi has recently discovered pranks, and he suggested playing one on Satoru. You couldn’t help but think that was an amazing idea.
Your husband was leisurely sitting on the couch, playing a game on the console he and your son shared. He was able to see you from his peripheral vision while you and Aoi were in the dining room. He didn’t seem to be too intrigued by the conversation, but Satoru is a chronic eavesdropper. He can’t help it with his technique and all.
“No, mom. Why can’t you do it?” Aoi plays his role perfectly, even throwing in an annoyed groan at you. Gojo cut his eyes towards you two, but he stayed silent for a moment. He knew this was your battle to face, and he wasn’t usually the disciplinary parent anyways.
“Because I told you to do it, Aoi. It’s your chore.” You say, putting on a serious voice as you would if he had really been sassing off to you.
“Ugh. Shut up, mom!” Aoi yells with a dramatic eye roll.
Immediately, you hear the game console cut off. It seems like you two had garnered Satoru’s attention. Footsteps carry into the dining room, and your all too tall husband leans against the doorframe.
Aoi sees his father, and his eyes widen. Your little actor. He then tries to walk off, but Satoru easily put his hand out against Aoi’s chest, preventing him from going anywhere.
“Woah, woah, woah, there little man. Who do you think you’re talking to there?” He interjects as his hands slowly unwrap his bindings from around his eyes, letting you know that he’s about to get serious.
“She’s getting on my nerves, dad!” Aoi continues to play the role, even though you can tell that he’s scared shitless.
“Hey, look at me.” Satoru says as he bends his knees to be eye level with Aoi. Your son complies with his dad’s order. “I don’t give a shit, okay? Never, and I mean, never tell your mother to shut up unless you intend on fighting me afterwards. She says to take out the trash, you say yes and take out the trash. Do you understand me?” Satoru says as he holds his son’s shoulders, squeezing them a bit so Aoi knows he’s not fooling around.
“Because I don’t think you want to fight me, do you?” Satoru questions. His blue eyes beam in the light, making your son nervously sweat.
“Baby, it’s just a prank.” You quickly interject with a laugh as you gently nudge your husband away from your son.
“Yeah dad, I was just acting!!” Aoi’s nervous gaze flutters into an adorable smile.
Satoru rolls his eyes and playfully laughs along. “You two are too silly, makin’ me turn off my game for this.” He shakes his head as he wraps his eyes back up.
“You were like gonna hollow purple me!” Aoi shouts with an excited laugh, and he reenacts Satoru’s cursed technique.
“Yeah, I love your mom a little too much.” Satoru responds with a grin up towards your direction.
SUGURU
Mimiko and Nanako are coming into their teen years, and recently, they’ve been obsessed with the idea of TikTok. After seeing the “shut up mom” prank all over, they knew that they had to play it on Suguru.
You, of course, agreed to help them pull off their little shenanigan.
“You two are not going out. It’s a school night.” You chide at the twin girls, giving them a small wink as Suguru was enjoying a cup of tea while sitting at the breakfast bar. He was scrolling mindlessly on his phone, reading the news or something like that.
“Mom, please. Everyone’s going.” Nanako pled and even threw in a small pout.
“Yeah, who cares if it’s a school night?” Mimiko chimed in.
“Girls.” Suguru warned as he normally did when you were having to deal with the twins. He didn’t like the idea of the girls ganging up on you.
“I said no. I bet you two didn’t even do your homework yet either.” You carry on, eyeing the two girls as if they were really in trouble.
“Ugh! Mom, shut up!” The girls somehow managed to say in sync. The two had obviously practiced their lines.
The tea glass hit the counter, and Suguru a stood up from his seat on the stool. “Hey. I don’t ever want to hear that kind of language in this house, especially not to your mother. Got that?” He said as he eyed your daughters.
Your husband was a bit of a strict father to the girls. He really just wanted them to turn out good, so he was the main disciplinary figure in the house.
“Dad! She’s-“
“Aht.” He cuts Mimiko off, and starts to walk up to the girls. “I didn’t ask. Apologize to your mother this instant. Then, go upstairs and do your homework. You two are grounded from going out for at least a month.”
“Sugu, it’s a prank.” You say as you can’t hold back a laugh from how angry he got that quickly. “It’s a prank, sweetie.”
Your two girls were nodding quickly, holding their hands out in surrender. “We saw it on TikTok!”
Suguru rolls his eyes at the three of you. “That app is no good for you.” He quietly chides. “Did you two do your homework?”
Mimiko and Nanako exchange nervous glances, and they both run up to their rooms to get it done.
Your husband laughs quietly and shakes his head before sitting back down on his stool. You walk over towards him and card your fingers through his long hair. He lets out a long exhale of contentment while leaning his head into your touch. “What are we gonna do with those two, hm?”
“Love them and try our best to teach them.” You softly respond before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
TOJI
Toji is a pretty laid back dad. He lets you take the lead on a lot of the parenting aspects, since it comes to you more naturally than it does with him. However.. he has his moments.
“Megumi, come help me do the dishes.” You say to your 13-year-old son. He’s in that weird stage of puberty where you’re his best friend one day and his worst enemy the next, which means he sometimes agreed to play pranks with you.
“Busy, mom.” He mumbles at the table as he’s trying to learn the hand signs for one of his shikigami. He was left learning this stuff on his own since Toji wasn’t a sorcerer, and you weren’t apart of the Zenin clan. You had no idea how to do the hand gestures.
“You can do that after you’re done helping me, Gumi.” You say as you turn on the kitchen sink. Your son doesn’t even acknowledge that you said anything.
Toji eyes him from his seat at the dining table, waiting for his son to comply.
“Gumi. Get in here.” You finally say after a minute of him not responding to you.
“Shut up, Mom!” He raises his voice at you, and immediately, Toji is on him quicker than you could respond.
“What did you just say to your mother, brat?” Toji grits as he stares down at his teenage son. Megumi looked back up at him mortified. “I brought you in this world, and I will take your ass out of it if I hear you speak to your mom like that again.”
“Baby, baby, baby, it’s a prank!” You say as you rush over to Toji. Megumi cracks a nervous smile, and you gently nudge Toji back.
“It’s a prank!” Megumi shouts as he leans back away from Toji slightly.
Your husband lets out an annoyed grunt. “You two play too much. Gonna make me kill my own son.” He says as he releases Megumi’s shoulder. He walks back over to his seat at the dining table and smacks your ass on the way back.
SUKUNA
“Ryu, come take out the trash!” You yell to your son. He recently brought up the idea of pranking Sukuna by yelling at you to shut up in front of him. You had urged your son that this was a bad idea, but he was persistent.
Sukuna was sat at the dining table, eating whatever Uraume had prepared for him. Usually, Uraume handled the trash as well, but you distinctly told them to leave it.
There’s no response.
“Ryu! Trash now!” You call out again in a more frustrated tone.
Sukuna is biting his tongue at this point. There is nothing that he hates more than insolence, especially towards you. You’re his queen, and he demands for all to respect you, including his son.
No response.
“Ryu!”
“Okay mom! Shut the fuck up!”
All four of Sukuna’s eyes widened, and he put down his fork. “Domain expansion. Malevolent-“
“It’s a prank!” You shout as you spin to look at Sukuna quickly. Your son is standing behind you, quite literally trembling in fear.
“Yeah- it’s a p-prank, dad.” Ryu stutters out.
Sukuna narrows his gaze, and he looks between the two of you. “Foolish.” He grunts. “Boy, come have a seat.” He commands, and your son reluctantly complies.
“If you ever pull some shit like that seriously, I’m not afraid to start over and make a new kid. I got nothing but time on my hands.” Your husband says while eyeing your son.
“Ryu’s a good kid, Kuna.” You assure him as you walk over to your husband and rub on his shoulders a bit.
“Mmm, for now.” He mumbles, and he nods his head to the trashcan. “Take the trash out.”
NANAMI
Your husband was sitting in the living room, enjoying his “lazy Sunday” as he called it. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for the life he was living right now.
He had everything he ever dreamed of: a stable job, an amazing wife, a small family in a loving home.
You were sitting next to him, casually rubbing on his thigh through his pajama pants. You and your daughter had been texting about playing a prank on your dear husband, and it was finally going to happen.
“Hana, did you fold the clothes like I told you to?” You call out to your daughter as she’s in her bedroom. Nanami turns a page in his book, still not paying too much attention.
“Mom, I’m doing something!” Your daughter yells back.
“Hana, get in here and fold those clothes!” You shout back, getting a bit more serious. Nanami lets out a small sigh as he places his mug on the coffee table. He’s normally quick to nip Hana’s attitude in the bud.
“I’m busy!”
“Hana!”
“Okay mom! Just shut up already!” She finally yells as she storms into the living room. Nanami shuts his book and immediately stares down your daughter.
“What did you just say?” He asks as he sits up from his cozy position. His jaw tightens a bit as he glares at Hana.
“I just told her to shut up. She’s being overdramatic.” Your daughter continues, playing her part perfectly.
“Who’s her? Your mother? You’re telling my wife to shut up?” Nanami says as he starts to stand up.
“It’s just a prank, Ken!”
“Dad, it’s a prank-!”
You and your daughter both shout nervously, and Nanami looks at both of you confused for a moment. It then clicks in his head. “God, don’t stress me out like that.” He chides as he relaxes back on the couch. He wraps his arm back around you and picks up his book again.
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june gloom - part 2: is this gonna end ever?
(Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader, 6.9k words)
part 1
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summary: Six months after Rafe walked out of your life, you're finally picking up the shattered pieces he left in his wake. When you accidentally find yourself working at his wedding, your thrown right back into the chaos you thought you were free from.
content: angst/smut, 18+ minors do not interact!, mentions of alcohol abuse and drugs, mentions of cheating, what could be considered infiedelity
a/n: as a fair warning, the angst only gets worse in this one. however, I promise the third and final part will see a satisfying and happy ending for these two if you stick with me. also, this one got wordy, but after struggling with it for a while i'm very happy with how it turned out. thank you to this anon for inspo and for everyone's support on pt. 1.
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Crickets chirped a chorus around you as you laid back on the flannel blanket, the grass beneath making a soft pillow for your head. Your lips wrapped around the blunt, lungs expanding to welcome the smoke. You hummed in pleasure as the high-end strain went down way smoother than any of the trash you would usually get on The Cut.
“God, this is good shit,” you said with a lazy smile.
“Only the best for you,” Rafe smirked, leaning over on the blanket to pull the joint from your lips so he could join in your revelry.
He took a long drag and let it go in a smoke ring that rose above you and disappeared into the starry sky. You tried and failed to stifle your laugh.
“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes glazed over with his high.
“Nothing,” you chuckled. “Just…what frat house did you learn that in?”
“Shut up,” he teased back, making you laugh harder.
“No, I’m sure the sorority girls found that very sexy,” you continued.
“They did actually, thank you,” he joked. “You would’ve too.”
“Yeah right, I’d make a great Phi Beta Whateverthefuck,” you huffed sarcastically.
“Did you go to college?” He asked.
You’d known Rafe for about three months, spending nearly every night together since you first met at that club. You had talked about just about everything under the sun except yourselves, you were caught off-guard by this excavation into your history.
“Um, no,” you answered, taking the blunt back from him.
“Why not?”
You shrugged, taking another hit, “didn’t wanna.”
“Do you regret it?” He continued.
You sat up and pulled your knees to your chest, looking down at him with a frown.
“What?” He questioned.
“Why the sudden interest?” You said, harsher and less playful than you’d intended to.
Rafe sat up next to you, pulling his knees towards himself to mirror you. His eyes were intense on your face as he mumbled, “you don’t want me to get to know you?”
Truthfully, you wanted that and so much more, but you couldn’t tell him that. You knew this was just a way for him to pass the time until he could get you in bed again, and maybe you were okay with that. You decided you’d entertain the line of questioning, just this once, not knowing then that this was just the first of many deep, meaningful conversations you’d share with him.
You took a deep breath and said, “what do you want to know?”
He looked up at the stars as he considered the answer to that question. You took the opportunity to admire the way the moonlight reflected off of the sharp angle of his jaw.
He decided on “what’s your biggest dream?”
You bit your lip and looked down at your bare feet, digging them into the blanket, not used to this kind of conversation and yet feeling curiously comfortable opening up to him.
“I want to go to India,” you answered honestly. “I read a book when I was a kid about a little girl who grew up in India and I’ve wanted to go ever since.”
Rafe nodded in approval, “that’s a good one. You should go.”
“Yeah, as soon as I win the lottery, it’ll be my first stop,” you joked bitterly.
“Or I could just take you,” he shrugged.
You smiled at him, incredulous. 
“What?” He asked, genuinely unsure of the meaning behind the look you were giving him. You realized he might actually be serious, even though you knew it would never really happen.
“Nothing. That’s sweet,” you smiled. “But I want to get there on my own. I wanna earn it.”
“I can respect that,” he conceded. 
“Anytime you wanna lend me that private jet, though, just hit me up,” you teased.
Rafe chuckled, eyebrows raised, “oh I see…you’re using me.”
“I thought that was obvious,” you smiled coyly. 
“Uh-huh,” Rafe said, playfully shoving your shoulders so you fell back onto the blanket. 
You giggled as he climbed over you, caging you in between his arms as he held himself up, looking down at you, tucked perfectly beneath him.
“I think I’m okay with that.”
He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip tenderly, lowering himself down until you were chest to chest…
“Are you listening to me?”
Your friend waved her hand in front of your face, trying to get your attention.
“Sorry, what?” You were pulled from your thoughts.
“I said they want us there at four this friday,” she showed you an email on her phone.
“Oh,” you blinked, coming back to the moment. “Where is it?”
“Some mansion on Figure 8. It’s a wedding, but they're doing like a whole weekend thing, so it’s Friday through Sunday. Last time I worked one of these I made over five hundred.”
When she first told you about the catering gig this weekend, you turned her down. You’d been carefully avoiding the north part of the island for the last six months, and a whole weekend would be a high-risk endeavor. However, you didn’t have to check your bank account to know you were near broke, and Figure 8 was where the real money was made. You agreed and ironed your white button down and black slacks, your go-to outfit for catering gigs.
As you pulled up to the address your friend had sent you, you cursed under your breath. The estate was huge, the old house immaculately kept and towering proudly under a crystal blue sky. You turned down the radio as your beat up car sputtered its way up the long, grand drive.
“We’re definitely not on the south side anymore,” you joked to yourself. 
You pulled around back to the service entrance as directed by your friend’s text and tracked her down in the crowd of other blue collar workers. Everyone was moving quickly, arranging the massive party space according to the wishes of some unseen bride and groom. 
You were put to work right away, polishing silverware and arranging it as instructed by the very specific, color-coded diagram you had been given. Tonight was only the rehearsal dinner, and there were two-hundred names on the guestlist. You chatted with your friend as you did various other chores, speculating about who could possibly be the owner of this massive property.
“Maybe it’s a crime lord,” your friend joked. “Like some mafia type shit.”
“Maybe it’s a celebrity,” you guessed. 
You didn’t have to wonder for long. 
“Hey! A little help here!” A delivery driver called to you as he struggled to lift something large and rectangular out of his truck, the mystery item protected with a large, black sheet.
You ran over to give him a hand, and he directed you to a big easel he had set out, “picture of the happy couple,” he explained. You called your friend over, informing her you were about to have all your questions answered.
Once you had set the canvas down, you asked the delivery driver if you could remove the sheet. “I don’t give a fuck, my job’s done,” he said, hopping back in his truck and driving off. You and your friend giggled as you did a little countdown and drumroll routine. You pulled the sheet away and her mouth fell open
“Of fucking course,” she immediately took out her phone to take a picture.
You stepped back to look at the giant, blown up portrait. Every muscle in your body tensed and the blood drained from your face, you grabbed the back of a nearby chair for support. 
There on the oversized canvas, smiling that perfect, crooked, arrogant, beautiful smile, was Rafe Cameron.
He had his arm around the woman you recognized to be the one he’d left you for, calling off your whirlwind love affair in pursuit of something more optically appealing to his family. He’d found it; they were gorgeous together.
Six months had passed since you’d last seen him. The first few months were the hardest you’d ever faced. At first, you went out almost every night, needing to stay shitfaced to keep your mind from wandering to him or your fingers from dialing his number. Eventually, you had to delete him from your phone, not trusting yourself in those late night moments when you missed him so much you thought you might die. No amount of booze or weed could make you forget the feeling of his hands on your body, the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes when he fucked you that last time. Your friends started getting worried. You blacked out so often, you couldn’t keep a job. After three or four months of your reckless behavior, they called a sort of intervention and convinced you to calm down. 
You decided if you were going to be alone, you’d make yourself good company. 
You stopped drinking, and even gave up cigarettes. It took several false starts, but the patch got you through it. You picked up good habits, too, starting your mornings with yoga and meditation. You were planning to go back to school, tired of career-hopping through dead-end minimum wage jobs. You stopped eating take out so much, started grocery shopping and saving every spare cent you had for a travel fund. You even cut and dyed your hair, finding freedom in the ability to change whenever you wanted, in the fluidity of answering to no one but yourself. You were still untamed, but for the first time in your life, you felt a semblance of control. You decided you’d build a beautiful life even if you had to scratch and claw your way to it. And you’d do it all by yourself.
Slowly, and with the most effort you’d given anything ever, you were finally starting to get over Rafe Cameron.
Or so you thought. Now, standing in his backyard, decorating for his wedding, you felt like you were right back where you were that night in June, lying naked on your bed while he walked out of your life forever.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A high-pitched, angry voice startled you, pulling your eyes away from the picture.
You whipped your head around to see her, even more stunning than she was in pictures, her wide Disney-princess eyes shooting daggers at you. Your first and most irrational thought was that she somehow knew who you were. The delusion of that concept was quickly made apparent.
“The picture was supposed to stay covered until tonight,” she barked at you and your friend, who looked at you with wide-eyed panic. “Aren’t you the fucking caterers? Why are you even out here?”
“S-sorry,” you stammered out, your mind reeling as it tried to connect to your reality. You picked up the sheet off the ground. “We’ll cover it back up.”
“No, don’t touch it! Where’s your manager?” She demanded, her hands on her hips. “They need to know about this. What are your names?”
Your friend looked at you with wide eyes, you knew she needed this job even more desperately than you did. Plus, she’d stuck her neck out to get you hired and now she’d lose the money and her credibility.
“It was me,” you blurted out. “Not her. Don’t worry, you don’t need to get anyone fired, I’ll just leave.”
It wasn’t a big sacrifice, considering you were already thinking if you stayed another minute you might have a full blown panic attack. At least if you threw yourself under the bus and got fired, your friend would have no reason to question why you ran from the property crying.
“Fine, whatever,” she dismissed your act of loyalty with a wave of her manicured hand while your friend looked at you with grateful eyes. “What’s your name then?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you handed her the sheet, which she snatched from your hands irritably. “I’ll just go.”
You tried to keep your composure as you walked back toward the house, praying you’d remember your way back to your car. Your heart was pounding, your anxiety and shock threatening to bubble over, you could feel tears springing up and your hands shaking.
You rounded one of the many corners of the massive house, finally out of her line of vision, and broke into a sprint. You passed through another courtyard, where more preparations were underway. There were far too many eyes on you. If you remembered correctly, there was only one more turn before the part of the property you were parked on.
Dirt crunching under your feet, you slid around the corner and straight into something hard and large. You let out a sharp “ouch” as your face burned with the force of the collision. To your horror, you realized you’d run into a person. You kept your eyes low, looking at the man’s feet as you held a hand over your face, wondering for a moment if you’d broken your nose. Then, a familiar scent flooded your senses, and you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. 
“Woah, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Rafe’s voice asked, clearly unaware of who he was talking to, you looked so different than you did six months ago.
You raised your wide eyes to look at him, hand still cradling your throbbing nose. You took him in through rapidly blinking lashes, begging yourself not to cry. His face shifted slowly from concern for a stranger to recognition of someone all too familiar.
He pulled his hand from you in shock, his mouth opening and closing and opening again, trying to form words that just weren’t coming. You knew you needed to get out of there before they did.
“I’m fine,” you said firmly, hoping he understood you were talking about more than just your injured face.
You sidestepped him and kept running, leaving him standing wide eyed and ashen faced as he watched you get into your car and peel away from his home, and away from him. 
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The key rattled against the lock, your hands shaking as you tried to get into your apartment. When you finally got the door opened, you peeled off your clothes quickly, as if they were covered in something radioactive. You pulled on a tank and some sleep shorts, fully ready to get in bed and stay there for days. Everything in you was unraveling. The sight and sound of him undoing the steel backbone you had built for yourself. You climbed under the covers, curled into a ball, and sobbed.
You cried so hard, it knocked you out. Without trying to, your body fell into a hazy, uneasy kind of sleep, haunted by images of Rafe. When you woke, blinking confusedly at the fuzzy outline of the time on your alarm clock, it was dark outside. The clock read 11:03pm. You pulled yourself from your bed with a groan, craving something to comfort you in your post-meltdown emptiness.
As you stood at the sink, filling the kettle for some tea, your mind replayed the events of the day. He’s getting married tomorrow. The rehearsal dinner that you helped set up for was probably over by now. You pictured him saying goodnight to her with a kiss, hanging his tux for the morning, making sure he had the rings ready. You already knew you’d lost him, but the permanence of tomorrow’s events felt like a boot on the neck of the small part of you that still wondered what if.
Your phone rang out loudly on the kitchen table, making you jump, so startled you almost dropped the tea kettle, the water now overflowing. You set the kettle down on the stove and turned on the burner before looking at your phone screen, which read “unknown number.” You hit decline and let it go to voicemail. After a minute, you poured your tea and sat at the table, watching as your phone lit up again with notification of a new voicemail. You unlocked it and pressed play.
You knew the voice immediately, though it was coming out slurred and strained. You clutched the phone to your ear with both hands to hear better.
“Heyyyy baby. It’s me. I’m sorry for calling so many times, blowin’ up your phone and you’re probably out somewhere, looking fuckin’ gorgeous like always. Shit there’s probably guys lined up to take you home. Do you remember when we met? Fuck you looked so hot. I thought if you said no to going home with me I might literally die. But you said yes! You said yes and you took me home and we, fuck…god…it was so good, you’re so good. Not just the sex. I mean, yes your pussy is so perfect, but…shit it’s raining…but you were- you are…jesus Rafe get it together. I can’t remember what I was saying. I’m so drunk, I- ouch, fuck!- I miss you, baby. It's cold out here but I don’t care, I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t listen to them talk about this fucking wedding. Fucking flowers and table settings and shit I don’t care about any of that…just, please…baby…I need-”
Your phone beeped loudly, the voicemail cut off for length. You replayed it, twice. Outside your kitchen window, you could see the rain getting heavy. The low was in the 30s tonight, and it was supposed to keep raining for hours. You couldn’t hear much in the background behind Rafe’s drunken rambling, but you could tell he was outside. You pictured him stumbling into a ditch somewhere. He had hurt himself on the voicemail, did he fall? You couldn’t stand the thought of him alone, out in the cold rain, hurt.
Despite every instinct, you pulled up the number he called from and texted him.
Today 11:14pm
Where are you?
Today 11:16pm
‘Unknown’ shared their location with you.
You grabbed your coat and keys and ran out the door before you had time to second guess yourself. You found him lying on the beach, his clothes soaked through from the rain that was still falling heavily. He’d clearly thrown up, just a few feet from where he was laying now. You ran to his side and quickly checked that he was breathing.
“Jesus, Rafe,” you recoiled at the overwhelming aroma of booze radiating off of him.
His eyes flew open at the sound of your voice. 
“Baby?” he groaned.
“We gotta get out of here, Rafe,” you struggled to help him up.
With an enormous amount of effort, you got him into your car. He leaned his head against the cold window as you drove, his breath fogging up the glass with each exhale. You looked over at him every few seconds to make sure he was still conscious. 
Once in your apartment, stumbling through the door with his arm over your shoulder, you led him into the bathroom, guiding him to sit on the edge of the tub while you ran the shower, water heating slowly.
You tapped his arms. 
“Up,” you instructed. He lifted his arms obediently and looked up at you through half-lidded eyes as you peeled off his wet polo, doing everything you could to avoid staring at his bare torso.
“Think you can do the rest yourself?” You motioned to his lower half.
“No,” he said with a smirk.
“Rafe,” you warned, not playing around.
“I can do the rest myself,” he said with his hands up in defense. 
You left him in the bathroom fumbling with his belt. While he showered, you brewed a pot of coffee and poured two steaming mugs, sitting uneasily at the table when he finally emerged from the bathroom. He was in only his boxers and you blushed aggressively, as if you hadn’t seen him naked a hundred times before. He caught the redness in your cheeks as you looked down at your hands, swallowing hard.
“Sorry,” he said earnestly. “My clothes are still wet.”
You pushed back your chair and walked to your bedroom, returning with folded clothes in your hands. He looked suspiciously at the men’s t-shirt and basketball shorts you gave him, cocking his eyebrow at you. You just glared back at him, tilting your head slightly as if to say I dare you to give me shit about where I got them. He didn’t push it, pulling them on wordlessly.
“Coffee?” You offered once he was dressed.
“Please,” he slumped into the chair across from you, sipping the coffee with a sigh.
“Feeling better?” You asked.
“Much better, thanks,” he said. “Never mix rum and redbull.”
You snorted, “I could’ve told you that.”
“Well you weren’t there were you?” The sentence started playfully but ended with a bite.
You sipped your coffee, wondering who would be first to acknowledge the elephant in the room. You sat in silence for a few minutes, both drinking your coffee and letting the air grow thick between you.
Finally, he caved and spoke first, “why’d you leave?”
“Why would I stay?” You responded, voice dripping with spite.
“I- I guess I don’t know.” Now it was Rafe avoiding your eyes.
“Does she know…about me?” You asked timidly.
“No,” he mumbled, before sipping up the last drop of his coffee.
“And where does she think you are right now?” 
“My bachelor party.”
“We should get you back there, then.” You stood and collected both mugs, bringing them to the sink.
Rafe scoffed, “you’re kicking me out again?”
“I never kicked you out, Rafe. You left,” you said, clutching the edge of the sink, bracing for an argument.
But he didn’t argue, he just let the silence settle between you for a long moment before finally saying, “I wish I hadn’t. I miss you.”
You turned, expecting to find him still slumped over the table, but he had stood and was now startlingly close. You jolted, squaring your shoulders in defense as he got closer to you.
“Don’t say that,” you pleaded. “I can’t do this with you.”
“Then why’d you come get me?” He asked, his eyelids low as he looked down at you. “Why’d you bring me here?
“Why’d you call me?” You asked back.
“I asked you first,” he said, no playful smile to match his childish words.
“Why does it matter?” You sighed.
“‘Cause it does, it matters to me, please just give me a reason,” his voice grew more desperate as he stepped even closer to you, his looming body caging you against the sink. He searched your face as he waited for you to respond, needing an answer you couldn’t give him.
“Are you gonna marry her?” Your words tightened the tension already growing between you, causing Rafe to close his eyes in frustration.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” he shook his head. 
Rafe lifted his hand slowly, placing it on your waist. He squeezed gently at the soft skin of your side. You leaned into his touch for just a second before coming to your senses.
“Are you? Going to marry her?” You repeated stubbornly.
“Yes,” He said, eyes falling from your face to his hand on your side.
“Then you shouldn’t be touching me,” you grabbed Rafe’s hand and lowered it from you. “I won’t be a mistress. I won’t be that dirty pogue who fucks a married guy, I wanna be something better than that.” 
You slipped out from between him and the sink, pacing to the other side of the room, but his body turned aggressively to follow you.
“You are. You’re so much better,” his voice cracked with urgency as he rushed to reassure you.
You shook your head in anger, raising your voice as you snapped, “then why are you marrying someone else?”
“Because I have to!” He matched your heated tone, as if he was the one to have something to be mad about.
“We’re going in circles, Rafe! We are in the exact same spot we were six months ago! Except I’m a different person now. It changed me, losing you. I got better, I got healthy, I got sober. I got over you!” You were yelling now, searching for the words to make him understand that he wasn’t the only one who had something to lose now.
“Well I didn’t get over you,” he stated simply.
“No, you got engaged,” you pointed out.
“Fuck that, fuck her, you know I don’t love her!” He scoffed. “You saw her today, you know she’s a bitch.”
“That’s really nice, Rafe, you should put that in your vows,” you huffed sarcastically.
“Oh c’mon, she doesn’t love me either,” he rolled his eyes. “She still fucks around, everyone knows it.”
He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it took you by surprise. You searched his face for a sign as to whether it was true or just something he made up to make you sympathize with him. The way his eyes fell to the ground and the apples of his cheeks blushed slightly told you it was true, she cheated on him, and he was ashamed of it. It made you sick, the thought of someone having him so close and caring so little. The only thing worse than the thought of her treating him like that was the thought of him accepting it as if it was what he deserved. You should’ve felt sad for him, but it just made you angrier.
“Then why, Rafe? Why?” You knew you were becoming a broken record but you just could not wrap your head around his choice. “Why are you still with her?” You hated the way it made you sound like you were blaming him for her actions, but you needed to understand.
“Because I’m going to have to end up with someone like her anyway, I may as well just get it over with,” he said with a resigned shake of his head.
“That’s fucked up, Rafe,” you said, even though you knew he already knew it.
“It is what it is,” he shrugged, defeated.
Your eyes caught the clock on your stove. It was almost 1am. Rafe was supposed to be saying his vows in twelve hours, and you knew if he stood here in your apartment for another minute, looking at you so helplessly, you’d crumble for him.
“I think you should go home,” you said, trying and failing to mean it.
“Not yet,” Rafe said, his tone implying there was something more he was waiting for.
And even though you wanted to, you just couldn’t give it to him. 
Mustering the last of your pride, you took a deep breath and said, “If you’re waiting for me to ask you not to marry her, we’re both gonna be disappointed. I’ve been doing good, Rafe. I got my life together, and I won’t be responsible for ruining someone else’s. It’s not on me, you have to decide. If you don’t want to marry her, then don’t marry her. But do it for you, because I’ve got me covered.”
Rafe considered your words, standing completely still as they washed over him. He had to choose. He could either ruin his reputation and potentially lose his family to be happy with you or keep the lifestyle he’d grown so accustomed to and be miserable with her. He looked so sad, and you desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but you stayed silent, wanting him to say what he was feeling all on his own for once. You needed a simple answer.
But Rafe Cameron never did anything the simple way.
He didn’t say anything,  he just started walking toward you. Once he was close enough to touch you, and your back was against the wall, he reached up to touch your face gently with one finger, silently asking if you were still in pain from your collision earlier. When you didn’t wince or push him away, he leaned down, bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.
“Just one more time, please. Don’t kick me out, be with me one more time,” he whispered against your skin.
You shook your head slowly, whispering back, “I won’t kick you out, but I also won’t let you touch me and then marry her.”
“Fine, I won’t touch you.” 
Rafe leaned back, only slightly, pulling his face away so you were level with his chest. He folded his hands behind his back to show you he meant it. You could smell his familiar musk, his chest so close to your face you could hear his heartbeat as you looked up at the pulsing veins in his neck. His hair, still wet from the shower, flopped messily over his forehead. A single drop fell from his bangs and landed on your collarbone. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he tracked the droplet rolling across your exposed skin, down your chest, over the curve of your tits and finally disappearing into your tank top.
Eyes locked to Rafe’s, you lifted your hand slowly, placing it over the spot the water had fallen, sliding your fingers delicately down the drop’s path. When you reached the neckline of your tank top, Rafe’s eyes consuming every movement, you reached up with your other hand and lowered one of the straps of your top slowly. You dragged your hand down further, cupping your breast through your lacy bralette and biting your lip at the pressure.
Rafe’s jaw clenched. He put one hand on the wall next to your head to steady himself, bringing his body impossibly closer while still not touching you. His other hand fell to his side, moving dangerously close to his dick.
“You better not touch yourself either, or I swear to god I’ll stop,” you warned him.
“Don’t stop,” He brought the drifting hand up to the wall on the other side of your head. “Please, baby.”
Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his voice, raspy and strained with need. With two hands on the hem of your shirt, you pulled it slowly over your head, leaving you in just the see-through undergarment. 
“Take that off too,” Rafe tried to sound dominant, but his voice cracked, betraying him.
“You’re not in any position to make demands,” you scolded with a shake of your head. “And you’re not going to see me naked. You have a fianceé for that.”
Rafe was pained by this, his nostrils flailing as he clenched his jaw in frustration. You ignored him and put your hands back on your body, palming both of your tits again before trailing lower over your stomach. Rafe’s tongue darted out of his mouth and licked his lips as he watched the way your stomach flexed with anticipation, hands finally landing on the waistband of your sleep shorts. One hand pulled the elastic back while the other slid beneath it slowly. When your fingers ran over the fabric of your panties, teasing your clothed clit, your head fell back against the wall and your jaw fell slack. Rafe ran one of his hands through his hair as he watched pleasure flood your face, desperate to touch something, anything. The hand still on the wall closed into a fist. You started rubbing circles over your clit through your panties, the fabric already soaked through, wet since the sight of him in his boxers. Your breath hitched when you found the perfect rhythm and you closed your eyes tight, a melodic moan rising from your throat.
“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking sexy,” Rafe growled through gritted teeth.
Your eyes flew open and you pulled your hand from your shorts, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between you and the vulgarity of what you were doing. You slid under his arm and hurried to the other side of the kitchen.
“You should go,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself and shivering at the sudden loss of his warmth.
Rafe stayed still, trying not to spook you. His head dipped low, looking down at his ringing hands.
“I missed you,” he mumbled helplessly.
“You mean you missed fucking me?” You asked spitefully.
One agonizingly slow step at a time, Rafe crossed the room. You turned from him as if to push him away, literally giving him the cold shoulder. But he wasn’t deterred, he just got closer and closer until he was right behind you, close enough for his breath to sweep across your shoulder as he said, “yeah, what if I do? I miss it so much. There’s not a day that passes without me wishing I was here, fucking you so good you scream my name.”
His arrogant words made you so fucking angry, and so fucking wet.
What little resistance you had mustered disappeared. Breathless, you whispered, “what else do you miss?”
“I miss your little moans,” he continued, the corner of his lips raising slightly at the sight of the goosebumps that shot up your arms. “I bet you still cry out for me when you make yourself come, don’t you? I want you to show me.”
“We can’t do this,” you shook your head.
“No, I can’t do this,” he corrected you. “You can do whatever you want.”
No fight left, you took his suggestion, and soon you were laying back on your bed, your shorts thrown on the floor, your hand moving feverishly under your panties. Rafe laid next to you, his body drawn in as close as it could possibly get while keeping his promise not to touch you. You’d made no such promise, the hand you weren’t rubbing over your slick folds gripping his arm for purchase as you moaned at your own touch.
“Talk to me,” you begged.
“Yeah?” He said excitedly, as if he had been waiting for permission. 
You nodded desperately, bringing your eyes to his as one of your fingers dropped down to enter yourself.
“You remember the first time we fucked?” He began. “Right here on this bed. I took you from behind. You were so tight around my cock, like you were fucking made for me.”
You added a second finger, driven by his filthy words. His jaw clenched, restraining himself with more effort than he’d ever given anything as he watched you writhe.
“Keep going,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut.
“I had to turn you around, I had to see that pretty face when you came for me for the first time,” he recalled. “God, I bet you wish it was me stretching you out right now, don’t you? You wish it was my cock pounding you into the mattress until you can’t breathe, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, lips pouting, overwhelmed by the memories and your need to feel him.
“Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he groaned, feeling himself twitching in his pants, desperate for his own release but committed to yours. “I need to see you come, baby, one more time. Please come for me?”
You cried out as you clenched around your own fingers, their size so inadequate with him so close, knowing what he could be doing to you. But you meant what you said, you couldn’t let him touch you, not while his bride was sleeping just across town, no idea her groom was in some pogue’s bed, begging her to come for him. Maybe it was sick, but the thought of him being so desperate for you that he was risking everything with her made your thighs clench around your hand, nearing the edge.
“Tell me about the first time you saw me,” you pleaded, the rasp in your voice warning him you were close. 
“Holy shit, baby, you were so fucking sexy,” he said, rising up from the bed and propping himself on his arm to hover over you, the proximity throwing you into even more of a frenzy. “Dancing in that club, the way you move, shit, I wanted to lay you down on that dancefloor and fuck you right there. So did every other guy in there. But they didn’t get to have you, I did. And I’ve never been the same since I first touched you.”
It was all too much, his words, the memory, the sensation of your fingers sliding in and out so easily, the way he was talking making you so wet. Your high crashed into you like a truck, your back arching off the bed, your chest bumping into his as you came with his name on your lips.
“There she is, that’s my girl,” Rafe exhaled as you rode out your high. Eventually, your muscles gave out from the pleasure and you slumped back into the bed.
He watched you in rapture as your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, struggling to recover. Neither of you knew what to do next, the shock of what just happened washing over you. Your body was so exhausted from the chaos of the day and the aftershocks of your orgasm, all you wanted was him, and you were too tired to fight it.
“Rafe?” You whispered into the darkness of your bedroom, the light of the moon the only thing illuminating the small space.
“Yeah?” He whispered back.
“Can you hold me?” Your voice sounded so small, and you hated the vulnerability of your request, but at this moment the only thing you wanted in the world was to feel his arms around you.
“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you?” He teased gently.
“I said I’m getting better, not that I’m perfect,” you smiled, turning your body towards him. “And I want to know what it feels like to fall asleep in your arms. Just once.”
“Is it gonna be an issue?” He asked. You knew what he really meant was, “are you going to regret sleeping with an engaged man?”
The answer was yes, but you didn’t care.
“Just let me be a little selfish,” you said, turning around so your back was against his chest, pulling his arm around you. “I had you first.”
“You still have me,” he whispered against your neck, pulling your body into his.
“Shhh,” you said, lifting your fingers gently to his lips. “Go to sleep, Rafe.”
He smiled and did as he was told.
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊
The sunlight landing on your face is what woke you from the deepest and sweetest sleep you’d had in six months. Your first instinct was to smile, humming in satisfaction as you stretched your well rested muscles.
Your second instinct was to reach for him. 
You shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t pull your knees to your chest, shouldn’t be crying alone in your cold bed. Of course he left. He was always going to leave.
Some small, pathetic voice in the back of your mind said, “maybe he just went to break things off with her.”
Even though it made you feel like the most pitiful girl in the world, you checked his location, still available from the night before. He was on Figure 8, the address you had gone to yesterday. He was at his wedding. 
He had wanted you to ask him not to marry her. He never would’ve said it, but you could see it on his face. He had too much to lose, too many people depending on him, too much weight on his shoulders. But maybe he would’ve given it all up, if only you’d asked.
You threw your phone across the room in frustration. Maybe you should’ve just asked him to stay with you, maybe you should’ve put your pride aside this one time, maybe this was all your fault. 
You were up and out of bed before you had time to talk yourself out of it. You pulled on your catering clothes from the night before. Surely, they wouldn’t let you in the gate if you looked like some wedding crashing pogue, but maybe you could slip in undetected if it seemed like you still worked there.
You don’t even remember driving there, your stomach on fire with nerves and something that might even be excitement, as you raced across the island. The clock in your car read 1:03pm, and you prayed to whatever god was listening that the ceremony had started late.
As you planned, they let you right in the gate when you said you were with the caterer. You didn’t even bother to park at the service entrance, your tires squealing as you came to a stop right in front of the house, leaving the engine running as you ran towards the ceremony site. You could hear music playing in the distance, hoping it was the processional. 
But when you turned the corner, you heard a large crowd break into applause. You came to a halt, backing up to hide under the cover of a tree a few yards from the end of the aisle. You watched as Rafe appeared, his beaming bride on his arm. He dipped her low, giving her a kiss as the crowd cheered again, the gold ring on his left hand glinting in the sunlight.
You were too late.
₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:・˚₊ ˚ ‧₊
pt. 3 coming soon
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kingkat12 · 3 days
Text
art on art (eric draven x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi
summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?
word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3
a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333
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(not my gif!! if it's yours, pls reach out and i will tag u<3)
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Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?
I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.
In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.
The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 
At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 
"Like what?"
"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"
Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"
I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.
"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."
Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"
I held my breath, unsure what to say. 
Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"
Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"
There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.
Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 
There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?
This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 
However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.
Maybe I just needed to forget about him?
And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.
I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 
And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.
As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 
Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.
Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"
I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 
I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"
Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"
My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.
Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."
"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"
With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"
I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.
However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.
I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"
Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"
Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"
I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"
Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"
The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."
There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."
I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"
As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."
I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"
Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"
In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"
Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 
With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.
"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 
Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 
"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 
"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."
It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.
In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"
As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 
"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"
That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."
"Drew what?"
"What we did in that stairwell,"
Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"
"Will you show me?"
He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.
The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.
It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 
"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 
I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 
A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"
I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 
Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"
I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.
I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"
He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."
Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."
Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."
The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"
"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"
My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."
Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 
Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.
I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"
The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.
I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 
Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 
I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 
Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.
"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."
"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"
Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"
I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 
Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 
Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 
My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.
I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 
I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 
"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 
My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 
My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"
With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."
That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 
Forever, if we wanted to.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.
The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.
However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"
He hummed, glancing down at me. 
It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"
"Told you what?"
It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."
Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"
"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?
"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."
I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.
I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.
(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)
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kiddiesmores · 24 hours
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“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢”: 𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬!
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Schlatt takes you home from work only to end up staying the night..
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT BRO. SMUT. More afab leaned but there is the use of she/girl, Schlatt is pretty dominant here, grrrr.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: Yall. I’m so sorry for how long this took, lost my spark but I THINK I GOT IT BACK LETS GOOOOOO. Thank you @michibap for being my savior and giving me the push I needed to finish this chapter. I promise not to leave yall hanging for a month next time! (Might make it two if yall are mean to me again.) ENJOY!! I LOVE U!!! Also this picks up right where chapter two left off, to avoid your confusion.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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You look up at Schlatt with a grateful smile, taking the to-go box from him and opening it to see he did, in fact, give you broccoli with your food.
“I’m not eating that by the way.” you mutter, looking up at him with a quirked brow and a wag of your finger, making him chuckle as he shut the box with a shrug. “Yknow what I said, don’t eat it and you’ll have to pay me back for it.” He jokes, watching you groan and grumble as you put the to-go box in your bag.
You fiddle with your fingers, “There’s something I wanted to uh- ask you.” you mumble, dodging his gaze by taking interest in the wine selection on the table.
“Shoot.” he shrugs.
“Do you think you could maybe take me home?”
He stares at you for a second, digesting your question. He grins cockily, “You can’t drive yet?” he teases, leaning down further and watching your mouth flounder.
“It’s a work in progress okay!”
“Sure it is. Course I can, c'mon toots.” He nods, holding his hand out for you to take which you gladly do, gathering your belongings and heading out the to-go door as he shuts off the lights.
He locks up the doors, pointing you in the direction of his truck. “Didn’t take you as a truck driving guy.” You mock, making him scoff.
“Big words with someone with no license.”
“Get off my ass? Please?”
He sucks air through his teeth, “Don’t think I will, actually.” He smirks, opening the passenger door for you with a snicker when you roll your eyes, hopping in and flipping him off as he closes the door.
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“So yeah, then Maggie told Chase that she knew all about it the entire time! And that she was just waiting for him to slip up on his own!”
“Wait-wait-wait- I’m behind, aren’t they married?”
“YES BRO.”
“Good lord.” Schlatt chuckles, a hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh as you fill him in on work drama that he doesn’t pay attention to.
“How did you not know about any of this? Swear we’ve all been talking about it for like- months!” you giggle, gazing at him as he shrugs and keeps his eye on the road. “I leave that to Rosie, none of my business.” You scoff, “All of it actually, you hired him!” “I didn’t know he’d fuck Kassie!”
You both fall forward with laughter, wiping a tear from your eye as you cough out a few more giggles, noticing him turning into your complex. A small pout forms on your lips as you realize your little venture home is over when he parks in front of your building.
He squeezes your thigh for a brief moment, looking over at you softly while you stare ahead,half smiling at the evident look of disappointment on your face. “I’ll uh..walk you up?” He mutters, causing your head to turn to him, “Yeah?” “Yeah.”
You smile nervously, mumbling a small, “Okay,” as you grab your bag, jumping out the ridiculously expensive truck as he turns it off, moving to wait for you on the sidewalk.
“After you?” he asks, holding a hand out for you to hold while you giggle and take it, guiding him upstairs to lead him to your shared apartment. As you approach your place your heart pounds, slowly turning to face him with your back pressed against the cool door.
“I’m right here- good ole 416B..” you mumble, looking up at him. The moon is full, the illumination softly painting his face as he gazes down at you, all meek and small in stature, he thinks you look absolutely adorable. His thumb grazes the back of your hand, a small chuckle escaping him as he takes in your nervous eyes and smiles. “Thank you for taking me home, I really appreciate it.” you whisper, feeling him lean in closer, his breath hitting your lips as you start to do the same.
“Anytime..” he whispers back, staring into your eyes. You both linger for a moment, waiting to see what happened next. “You gonna kiss me or…?” you ask, tilting your head with a coy smile, making him roll his eyes and close the distance. Your lips mold together, holding in place for a moment before he parts only for a moment, pulling you back in for another. And another. And another.
Your tote is on the ground, arms wrapped around his neck while you lean up on your tiptoes and his strong arms wrap around your torso. A soft sigh escapes you between kisses, gasping as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw down to your neck. “Schlatt..” you whisper, eyes shut as he lightly sucks on the warm skin of your neck with a gentle groan.
“Do you wanna come in?” you mumble, eyes still closed as you feel him pull back. He stares down at you for a second, your eyes fluttering back open to meet his stare, “Yeah, yeah I do.”
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It all happened so quickly.You unlock the door with haste and slam your bag down on the floor, both of you immediately kissing again and even somehow managing to wrap your legs around his waist, as he carries you to your bedroom. He steps on your roommate's dog toy, causing you both to pull apart with a yelp, quickly looking at each other before giggling, heads tilting to rest on each other to catch your breath before patting his shoulder to put you down.
You take your hand in his, guiding him to your bedroom, pushing open the door to be met with the soft lighting of the moon shining through your open blinds.
Your room was foreign to him, obviously. Accents of pinks and forest green decor scattered across your bed spread and posters. A few pieces of laundry on your floor, your backpack for class on your desk chair and a bulletin board of pictures above it, your room was for sure lived in. He found himself staring at the pictures of you and your friends you had scattered, turning to sit down at the edge of your bed and—woah.
His eyes lit up as they landed on the cat tree in the corner, inspecting it while you turned the lamp on on your bedside table. “You have a cat?” he asks, looking around the room.
You nod, “Yeah, she’s a little scared of new people, mostly guys so just give her a second! Missy? C'mere baby!” you call, hearing a muffled “meooow” from under your bed and a black and red paw swatting from underneath. “Aww there you are, come out and say hi!” you coo, pulling her from underneath and cradling her in your arms like a baby.
Schlatts eyes lit up, awwing as he scratched at the calicos head, taking her from your arms as her head digs against his hand. “She really likes you! And she is a D1 man hater!” you beam, scratching under her chin as he holds her against him with a chuckle. “Nahh, she’s a doll, just like her mom.” he quips, winking at you as your brain malfunctions.
He pretends not to notice, setting Missy down in her cat tree with a kiss to her head. You sit at the edge of your bed taking him in. His long black sleeve shirt and dark wash jeans are really doing it for you, the light stomp of his steel toed boots padding closer as he stands between you.
You look up at him, doe eyes meeting his low ones, whispering out a “Hi..” while you look up at him all pretty, making him offer you a sly smile in return before muttering back a “Hello.”
His knee digs between your legs to part them, hand cupping your neck as he leans down to kiss you again, making you whimper a bit as you lean back onto your bed, his body hovering above you. Soft smacks echo in the room, both of you hungrily nipping and biting each other's lips as your noses press together.
His hand slides down, gripping your waist, holding you in place as he grinds against your hips. You gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with a low “Mmmf..” His grip tightens as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting you two while your eyes stare into his, full of admiration.
He returns the look with a smug smile, “I really did plan on taking you out before we did all this y'know..” he jokes, making you roll your eyes.
“Yeah yeah, just get my shorts off.” “Yes ma’am.”
As he starts to unbutton your shorts you peep your kitty in her cat tree, eyes widening before stopping him from going any further. “Wait!” you squeal, standing up and lightly shoving Schlatt to the side, making him grunt and land on the edge of your bed while you make your way to the cat tree to grab Missy.
You hold her up while Schlatt looks at you with a bewildered stare, making you smile sheepishly, “Didn’t want her to see..” you mutter, opening your door and setting her down to leave, which she does, just to go and scratch on your roommates door instead. As you shut the bedroom door you shuffle down your shorts, kicking them across your floor to join your pile of dirty ones.
Schlatt chuckles, making you turn around, “What?” you question with a small chuckle of your own. He shakes his head, “Your panties are cute.” he jokes, making you look down in fear. You totally forgot you were wearing underwear with smiley faces on them.
“Oh..” you mumble, making him laugh a little harder, shaking his head and waving you back over, “C'mere pretty.” he mutters, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you into his lap. You quickly oblige, thighs falling to both his sides as his hands rest on your ass, head tilted up to meet yours and flowing back into your heated kiss from earlier. His hands grip your ass making you moan into his mouth, mewling a bit as he rocks you back and forth.
He flips you back on the bed, bulge in his jeans pressing against your core. You whine, pulling back with a small pout, noticing he’s still fully clothed. “So I get naked and you’re still in..” you look down, “Boots, jeans, and your shirt?” you tease with a smile, watching as his tongue presses to the side of his cheek while he stands up. His hands quickly shuffle with his belt, muttering a “Fuck, hold on.” as he throws it on the floor, chucking his boots off simultaneously.
You can only stare in awe as his pants come next, lost to the sea of lost clothes leaving him in his shirt and boxers. Your thighs clench, the heat between your legs feeling more unbearable every second he’s not touching you. He notices your internal struggle with a smug grin, “Let’s get your shirt off baby.” He grunts, pulling from the hem up and over your head, your tits spilling out your bra from the force.
He stares shamelessly, whispering a small “Fuck.” before demanding for you to take it off, which you scramble to do. He groans at the sight of you, chest exposed and left in your cute panties, it’s a struggle not to just pull them to the side and pound you right then and there but he knew you needed more help first.
Your head tilts with confusion as he starts to get on his knees, gasping when he presses a kiss to the wet spot seeping through your underwear. He lets out a deep sigh, hands gripping your thighs and forcing them to stay apart. He looks up, eyes searching or any look of doubt on your face, which he doesn’t find, your eyes meeting his and hazily nodding for him to continue. He smiles, sinking his face in to pull your panties to the side with his teeth, the cool air from your bedroom hitting your glistening mound, making you hiss.
He buries his face into your heat, wasting no time lapping at your wet cunt while you moan above him, head thrown back onto your soft comforter as your feet curl and legs slightly thrash. He groans into you, palms gripping your thighs to push up your legs, catching a glimpse of your sweet contorted face.
You whine at the loss of his mouth, quieting as he shushes you and spreads your legs back apart. “I need you to put your legs here,” he pats his shoulders, “and lock your legs tight around my head, I don’t want to be able to move. Do you hear me?”
You bat your lashes with a meek nod, but that’s not good enough for him. “Speak. Do you. Hear me? I need to hear you say you want it sweetheart.” “Yes, yes..” you whimper, tightening a bit when he grumbles out a rough, “Good.” before yanking your panties down to your ankles, dropping them near his pants to take home later.
“Yer so pretty like this doll..” he mutters, diving back in to lap at your folds, waiting for you to follow his instructions. You let out a shaken breath, placing one leg on each shoulder and interlocking your thighs around his face, squeezing as tight as you can to keep him landlocked in place.
You taste so good, and god it’s driving him crazy but he needs you to squeeze tighter, but he knows this is your limit. He takes matters into his own hands, squeezing your thighs to lock him in further, letting out a deep groan when he hears your pitch get higher while you moan. His hips rut into the end of your bed at the taste and sound of you, only to growl when he hears you suddenly sound muffled.
He forcefully pulls back, your legs falling from the lack of stability making you gasp, eyes bulging as you stare down at his pissed off expression. “Wh-“
“If I can’t hear you when your legs are covering my ears, you aren’t loud enough.”
You shake your head, “My roommate-“ “I don’t fuckin care about that!” he interrupts, “I need to hear that pretty voice of yours or else I'm not gonna know if you like it.”
Your eyes soften, nodding with a small “Okay..” watching as he sighs and gets back into position. Your voice is low at first, high pitched but still quiet before you see him scowl up at you, silently telling you to be louder. You huff, head tilting back as you decide “fuck it” and let the pleasure take over you, the accidental edging really doing a number on you as you rut on his face while his tongue fucks your hole. He’s trapped between your legs just as he wanted, grunting and groaning at the taste of you coating his tongue while he ruts harder into the end of the bed.
You know you’re getting closer, hands gripping onto the sheets as you grind on his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so slightly but enough to send you over the edge. He loudly laps at your gushing cunt, hands spreading your legs with ease while he looks up at you with a mischievous smile, staring into your eyes as the tip of his tongue glides between your puffy folds and lands on your clit, swirling with a playful look in his eye as you try to push him away weakly with your hand.
“Please..” you mutter, making him chuckle lightly as he presses one more kiss to your pussy before slowly crawling back up and hovering over you. “Wanna taste yourself baby?” he grumbles, watching as you nod slowly and dumb, batting your pretty lashes as his mouth gets closer to yours.
Your eyes shut as he kisses you, huffing quietly as you suck on his tongue making him groan. He feels your hand slowly slides under his shirt causing him to suck in heavily through his nose, reaching behind himself to catch it from going too far. You flinch,“Oh m’sorry-“ “You have nothing to be sorry for.” he comforts softly, lips moving to kiss your neck.
He struggles internally, brain rapidly reminding him not to sink his teeth into your skin, not trying to mark any visible places to avoid your embarrassment at work. Instead, his lips trail to your tits, sucking and nipping on your left while his hand gropes your right. He alternates, leaving a trail of hickeys down the valley of your breasts while gazing hungrily up at you through high lashes, laying his tongue flat against your nipple.
Your sweet gasps and huffs rile him up further, finally deciding you’ve had enough when you stare down at him with your eyes just as hungry as his. He stands back up, peering around the room scratching his head sheepishly, “You got a rubber?”
Your eyes widen for a moment with excitement, nodding and pointing to your bedside table, watching as he hovers over you and presses his bulge against your aching core while he rummages hrough your dresser, wicked grin on his face when he hears your high pitched mewl.
He finally finds one, looking you in the eye as he rips the package open with his sharp teeth, watching your chest rise and fall with labored breaths as you both anticipate what is to come.
He lets out a deep shaky sigh, head falling against your shoulder for a split second making your head turn to look at him confused, “Are you okay?” you whisper gently, hand cupping his nape, nails lightly scratching his hair. He nods into your shoulder, “I’m nervous as shit.” He gripes, causing a loud laugh to shoot out of you while you coo playfully, watching the faux scowl on his face form when he looks at you.
You aww, kissing his nose, “Coulda fooled me..” you mutter, pressing another quick kiss to his lips, “Take your time..”
“Mnn..” he mumbles against your lips, free hand slipping down his boxers while he has you distracted. He grins as you pepper sweet little kisses on his cheeks, turning away to look down between your bodies as he lines up between your legs. You peep down as well, catching a glimpse of how big he truly is, muttering a small “Damn.” making him stifle out a laugh.
“That gonna fit?” “We’re about to see.” he jokes, slowly sinking the tip in making you both let out a deep groan. A trembling whimper escapes you, toes flexing as he slowly pushes deeper with a small shush in your ear, “You’re doing so good, just a bit more, can you take it?” He purrs, nipping your lobe, only receiving a rough grunt from you in response.
He tsks with a slick grin, “Words pretty, use your words.” He teases, pinching your hip slightly making you yelp, “Yes.” you hiss we he captures your lips once more, slowly bottoming out inside of you taking the air out of your lungs.
“Buuuhhh..” you let out while he sucked on his teeth, “Fuuuuck, see baby, shit- knew you could take it.”
He holds still for a moment, knowing if he moved he’d bust immediately. His face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and mouthing at your skin, kissing up your jaw to your lips and resting his forehead against yours.
He takes another beat before whispering, “You ready pretty?”
“Uh-huh.” “Uh-huh,” He mocks, sliding out slowly with a sharp hiss and pressing back in with a deep groan, hands tightly gripping your hips as his mouth hangs open and his brows pull together. “Gonna move again baby okay?”
You start to nod, but you hear the click of his tongue, remembering he wants to hear you say it. “Okay..” you breathe, whimpering when he mutters a gruff “There’s my girl,” before slowly thrusting in and out. You felt insanely dizzy, trying to quiet your pathetic moans when your ears filled with the sounds of your slick and his harsh grunts and low groaning.
His hands roam from your hips to your stomach, feeling the bulge as he begins thrusting all the way in, losing his control a bit as he gets more riled up. Your feet flex, moans airy and high pitched as your eyes remain squeezed shut, which simply won’t do for him.
He takes one hand and brings it to your jaw, holding your face in front of his as he slips a finger in between your pouty lips, “Open those eyes for me pretty, let me look at ya..”
He doesn’t miss the way your teeth grit to hold back from yelling out from the immense pleasure he’s giving you, landing you a slap on the side of your thigh, “Don’t fuckin hold out on me.”
His thumb bullies its way in your mouth, pressing on your tongue and watching you suck, keeping eye contact as you withdraw with a lewd ‘pop,’ throwing your head back with a drawn out moan. You weakly shake your head, catching yourself when you remember Brooke in the opposing room. “C-can’t,” you pant, “My roommate-“
He rolls his eyes, “Don’t fuckin care, let me hear ya.” He mutters, hands pushing up the bend of your legs to press them into your chest for a deeper angle. You can’t help but feel dizzy, throwing out your logical thinking and doing as he asks, gasping as he straightens your legs and holds them with an arm and resting your feet on his shoulder. He keeps you steady, huffing as he plunges into your dripping cunt with a hot kiss to your ankle, a proud grin on his face as you shamelessly moan out his name.
His head falls back, feeling you tighten around him, “Fuck- you look so pretty under me. Tighten up around me one more time like that shit.”
You’re a babbling mess under him, head spinning as if it’s on cloud nine, your body going lax in his grip. You know you can’t hold out much longer, all the while Schlatt’s teeth grit, determined to get you to cum before he does. You whimper about how close you are, hands clutching the sheets beneath you while he chuckles and presses in further, “What did I say baby, don’t hold out on me, come on. Come for me.”
He fucks you through your orgasm, your back arching as you call out for him. He’s not far behind, pressing as deep as possible and grunting loudly as he cums. He holds you there for a moment, basking in the feel of your pulsing core around him while he empties his load.
You both pant as he pulls out with a gruff sigh, lowering your legs and hips back down onto the mattress. He coos as you weakly rub your aching hip, pulling off the extremely full condom with lidded eyes as he stares down at you. He starts to tie it, but your stomach looks too bare.
It’s almost like clockwork, absentmindedly pouring his load onto your stomach and smearing it around with his thumb with a wicked grin on his lips when you mewl at the stickiness.
He falls next to you, hand cupping the side of your face as he asks if you’re okay, allowing you to catch your breath. You nod, sleepy eyes peering at him, “M’fine, are you staying the night?”
He blinks, thinking for a second, “Wasn’t planning on it but, might as well yeah?” He teases, finger lightly tickling under your chin making you giggle and clumsily swat his hand away.
The longer you lay there the ickier you feel, face scrunching whenever you try to roll over and feel his cum drying on your stomach. He makes you direct him to your bathroom, lifting you and carrying you inside so you pee. He sifts through your cabinet for a wash cloth, soaking it in warm water as you watch him from the toilet. He kneels to wipe at your stomach, a bit of his cum still wet to catch on his thumb.
He offers it to your puffy lips jokingly, which you take and lick off with a soft stare, making him groan a bit, grumbling out a “You minx,” before wiping the dried cum off with the wet towel.
When he finishes cleaning you up you hobble back to the bedroom in search of your phone, legs wobbling and causing him to chuckle as you resembled a baby deer.
Your phone lights up under the pile of discarded clothes, squinting when the brightness blinds you. You’re greeted with a string of texts, all from your roommate.
Bookie 🍓:“WHO IS DOING THIS TO YOU???”
Bookie 🍓:“A MAN IS DOING THIS?”
Bookie 🍓:“IS IT SCHLATT?? -CHARLIE”
Bookie 🍓:“EWEWEWEW YUCKKK (congrats) YUCKKKK”
Bookie 🍓: “Heard you say you want to be quiet because I’m here, thanks for thinking of me when bro is laying pipe ❤️”
Your face contorts, full of horror and slight amusement as you quickly type back about a million apologies for the noise and a promise to tell her all about it tomorrow.
Schlatt watches with confusion as his arm hangs sleepily above his head, watching you knock on the shared wall three times and receiving three back from the opposing side.
“What’s that all about?” he mutters, watching you turn back to look at him with a shy expression. “Just sayin sorry..” you mumble, shushing him as he cackles loudly, wiping a fake tear and opening his arms telling you to “Cmere.”
You crawl over to him, resting on top of him while he pulls the blanket to cover both your bodies. He lazily strokes your back, lightly pecking at your shoulder as you hum against his chest.
The two of you lay in silence for a bit, nuzzled in each other's warmth even when he turned you both to the side. He sighs deeply, making you sleepily look up at him with a confused stare. He shakes his head, “Gotta be up at 6 to be back at the store.” he grunts, lightly chuckling when you grimace with a small “Eugh.”
“Should probably get some sleep then yeah?” You joke as his thumbs stroke your hips, softly nodding before offering you one last kiss against your lips before the two of you fall asleep in each other's hold, faces pressed into each other's necks and breathing in your scents.
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The next morning his alarm blares, causing you to flinch while he lazily reaches over to silence it. He grunts out a “Mornin’,” kissing your forehead. You hum sleepily, whining as he shuffles unwillingly out of your grasp with a light shush. He yawns and stretches as he stands, eyes tired as he tries to find his discarded clothes on the ground, muttering a low “Fuck!” when he steps on one of Missys toys, making you giggle.
“You gotta get this shit under control.” he glares, scoffing when you shrug with a teasing smile. He shakes his head as he dresses, feeling your eyes on him the entire time. “So about that date,” he starts, forcing his boots on, “There’s this diner I like downtown,” he looks at you over his shoulder, “You okay with breakfast for dinner?”
You smile sweetly with a nod, “That sounds perfect.”
He beams at you, standing and walking over to your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss your lips and stroking your cheek with his hand. “Good, I’ll grab ya around 8.”
You nod, kissing his palm as he slides it away from your face. He grabs his keys and wallet from your bedside table, walking to your bedroom door, “Get some more rest sweetheart, I’ll see ya tonight.” He reaches down to grab your panties from the night before, pocketing them with a sly grin.
“Have a good shift!” you mumble rolling your eyes playfully, sleepily waving goodbye with a tired smile which he returns, shutting your door behind him. There he met with Charlie, also saying bye to your roommate.
The two stare at each other for a moment, Charlie with a stupid shit eating grin and Schlatt with an expressionless stare.
He sighs as Charlie follows behind him, ignoring his snide comments about the two of you as they head out the door.
“Sooo, you and y/n huh?” he teases as he follows Schlatt down the stairs. Schlatt scoffs, “Bring it up at work and you’re dead.” He threatens, jaw tightening.
Charlie raises his hands in defense, “Heard!” he laughs, splitting ways on the way to his car as Schlatt heads to his truck.
Schlatt turns back before Charlie gets into his car, calling out for him, “But between us,”
He turns to look back at Schlatt, seeing the pleased smile on his face, “I like her a lot.”
Charlie smiles back, arms crossing as his head tilts, “You don’t say?”
161 notes · View notes
yandere-yearnings · 3 days
Note
*zombie noise* uuurghhhh.. Titties.. Man titties.. My sickness can only be cured if I am able to suck on some man titties 🧟‍♀️
AUUUGgGgGg My aching hands can only be remedied with a dose of squeezing chesticles various times a day 💀💀
nonnie the way i got war flashbacks reading the word chesticles😭💔 i believe this was in reference to this ask so today it's sun's turn to be reduced to an absolute mess🥰 i'm sorry this took so long to get to btw and also that the writing is largely shit, dar has not been vv good at this lately😔
NSFW under the cut!
“You’re being forward,” Sun laughed, bright-eyed, “hard day?”
“Very.” You stressed, leaning into him, finding solace in the softness of his shirt. His calves brushed against your lower back, drawing you between his thighs.
Sun's hands flicked up, fingers pressing to your scalp and massaging gently. Tenderly, to the shell of your ear, he hummed, “anything I can do to make it better?” 
Blinking at his innocent question, you couldn’t help but grin. Your arms stretched to either side of him, caging him all the more across the counter he was sitting on. “I can think of a few,” you whispered, revelling in the little exhale you received in response, “namely…”
“Y/N.”
“These.” You groped his chest with a happy tilt to your head. “They’re there for a reason, right?”
Sun groaned, curling into you to hide his obvious blush. “Not for you to… play with…”
“Why not?” you teased, feeling your neck heat from where he rested against it. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night. You begged me to touch them more actually, don't you remember? Crying so prettily, saying-”
“That’s enough!” He covered your mouth, pushing you slightly with a shaky grip on your shoulder. Red-faced and refusing to meet your gaze, Sun was the perfect picture of adorable. “If it’ll make you feel better, you know-” he paused, getting quieter, “you know I’m yours so… do whatever. Please, just stop embarrassing me.”
“Me? Embarrassing you?” You gasped, ever playful and swooping in to nip his cheek. “I would never.”
“Y/N,” Sun said again, this time whining, “you’re literally doing it right now!” He swatted at you lightly, but your energy was not lost on him, not in the giggle that preceded your pinning him down.
“Well, hello there,” you mumbled, attention completely focused on the expanse of skin exposed to you now that his top had ridden up.
Sun kicked you, half-hearted. “Don’t talk to it.”
“Sorry.” The both of you knew you weren’t sorry at all. Your thumb had already found its home, kissing into the flesh layered above his sternum, tracing the shadows cast.
Sun arched into it, and suddenly, every move you made became weighted.
Muscle beneath fat, driving your digits in until there was no more give, clawing, kneading, feeling his pulse soar — kisses trapped within his ribs that you knew his heart desperately wanted to send your way. How could you call yourself his lover if you didn’t reciprocate?
Saliva dripped, and your tongue followed, laving into cushioned tissue. You could get addicted to the taste of him, to the gasp and coil that brought you even closer. “Does it feel good, baby?” you mouthed around his nipple, relishing in his shiver.
“Good, so good,” Sun whined, breathless, writhing. “Don’t stop.”
“Who’s being forward now?” your teeth sank in, nothing akin to a light bite. “You can’t be giving me mixed signals like this Sun, you were so shy earlier…”
“Sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good for you. Please.”
Tears on his lashline when you pulled away. Your palms squeezed his pecs, let the pressure run down his entire body when they trailed to grasp his hips. Sun bit his lips to muffle his sounds, and you undid them with your own. “Tell me then,” you coaxed, “what do you want?”
“Bed.”
“Okay.” You caressed his face, and his turning to nuzzle into it was all you needed to forget about the stress you’d been feeling prior. "Bed," you repeated. "Bed sounds good.”
148 notes · View notes
accirax · 3 days
Text
Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14 Dissection
I can't think of how to introduce this dissection other than just saying "god damn??". This chapter-- especially its second part-- has been a wild ride, and one that it appears we're nearing the end of. However, we still have one important question left to answer, which I'm sure I'll talk about here. So, let's chat.
SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 14.
Also, I will be discussing Ace and Eden as equally likely blackened candidates in this post. If it will upset you to hear about the prospects of either or both of them being the killer, you might want to sit this one out.
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Given what happens later in the episode, it's very interesting that the episode began with (more or less) Ace "admitting" that he has no idea how the murder mechanism worked. A truthful method of disqualification, or a masterful play by Ace to ask Teruko to ask him about the murder method only to pretend that he has no idea what it was? Time will have to tell on that one, because I honestly have no leads.
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Similarly, is this Eden being genuinely shaken up and not remembering what transpired in the Gym, or trying to play the helpless innocent card to get out of having to help Teruko explain the murder method that she stole? Spoilers for my thoughts later in this dissection, I guess: they're so evenly matched that it's crazy.
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I've always thought that Hu is the prettiest DRDT character, and this episode did nothing but prove me right. Hot damn, ma'am.
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The insistence that this questioning is "traumatizing [Nico]" makes me think that Hu could be projecting her own experiences on to them. Perhaps she was once an innocent in a situation for which she kept taking the blame? That would be interesting as another connection between Hu and Nico, of both of them having taken the blame for someone else's follies.
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This was a hilarious comeback; never change, Ace. Or, maybe you do need to change slightly, to become a less cowardly and impulsive person. Or maybe I should at least be rooting for you to have the chance to change in the sense that you live long enough to have that work out for you.
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Yet another instance of J being the one to say that murder is bad. I wonder if this has to do with her character/backstory in some particular way (although given what we know about her past I have no idea what that would be), or if DRDTdev just needed a judgmental and confrontational person who would snap back at anyone to take over these kinds of lines.
(That's not me dunking on J's character btw she's valid for this)
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This was a really clever way for Charles to phrase this to make Hu listen and settle down. I appreciate the out-of-the-box yet logical thinking. (Also I missed hearing Charles' voice :,D)
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Woah, I was not expecting to get a Closing Argument comic for the Gym murder, but I am obviously delighted that we have one! Also, OH MY GOD, THE CEILING GRATE. How did none of us even think to consider that as part of the murder mechanism?
However, there are still some aspects of the state of the Gym that haven't yet been accounted for with this version of the murder timeline. I don't really think it's anything that would stop Nico from being Ace's would-be killer at this point, but I'll list them out here in case they are or in case they turn out to be relevant to Arei's murder. I'll also be trying to debunk them, though.
Moved Benches: Some of the benches near the pullup bar were knocked over. These probably fell either in some sort of struggle while knocking out Ace, or when Ace's body fell from the fan.
Moved Weight Rack: The weight rack was moved closer to the bench press and flipped on its back. I guess this really was also knocked over in the same fashion, no matter how unrealistically difficult it should have been to move due to its weight? Or it really was "workout preferences"???
Nico's Missing Cowl: When Teruko and Eden found Nico at the scene of the crime, they weren't wearing their typical dark cape thing. I have no clue why. You could say that Nico was trying to look less instantly recognizable, but it's not as if anyone (other than maybe Teruko) who saw a dark-haired 5'5" individual in a blue shirt instead of a gray cowl would think it was anyone other than Nico. There's also ye olde theory that they might have used it to soak up blood somewhere, but 1) Ace seems to have lost less blood than it may have seemed, and 2) the cowl was still not seen anywhere in the crime scene. I think I remember speculating that after Nico hypothetically used it to soak up blood (or, on second thought, maybe used it to gag Ace with the turpentine), they then stuck it in the fridge to hide it for the time being, at which point MonoTV discarded it and Nico got a new cape from their room. Maybe if it was used to apply the turpentine, Nico also could've put it away to prevent themselves from being affected by the fumes? I guess that's what I'm going with.
Lack of Tape on Pullup Bar: So, this one is obviously relevant to the murder already because Rose not being able to do a pullup is part of what tips off Teruko to the fact that something is off with the tape. However, I have no idea why the tape actually got removed from the bar. I still maintain that I don't think anyone could have stolen the tape off of that bar and repurposed it elsewhere-- most online sources seem to agree that kinesiology tape isn't reusable, and the fact that it was already wrapped around the bar in such a tight spiral would make it difficult to conform to any new specific shapes. My best guess is that Nico might have tried to use the bar instead of the light grate at first, determined that the tape was preventing the wire from sliding properly, and then removed the tape before determining the bar still didn't work. Or, Nico could have tried using the bar before settling on the broom, and thinking that it wouldn't work with tape on it... for some reason? Kinda scratching my head here.
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I wonder how long ago it was. It's been four days since the Chapter 2 motive was revealed, although Ace was attacked only two days after the motive. Furthermore, Ace had started bullying Nico to some level already by the end of Chapter 1. I'm sure that Nico must have known what their secret was and probably didn't want it to be shared. My guess would be that they probably started cooking on murder pretty shortly after the new motive was released. That would also work with Charles-via-Whit letting everyone know what the custom weapons were in the first Class Trial.
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This was the perfect response for Nico's character. They don't understand why an untruthful "sorry" would actually serve as a courtesy for most people, so they try to say what they feel and get ostracized for it.
Gotta say though, Ace, that was a pretty aggressive reaction from someone who said he "didn't need other people to tell him lies just to keep him happy" ;) (/j)
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Damn, way to throw Levi under the bus. I can see why, for someone like Nico, they would want to assert themselves as not the most abnormal person here, though. I just want them to be neurodivergent buddies :(
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If that's the case, then I'd have to imagine that we won't be seeing Nico as a killer again down the line. However, they could also just mean "getting caught"/"going in without a solid gameplan," so it's still possible we will. There's also the possibility of them doing something more like a sacrifice kill, although it would take a lot of character work to make something like that feel within Nico's nature.
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Sorry to keep screenshotting every little thing Nico says but they keep saying really interesting things. The fact that Nico specifically mentions their father as opposed to "parents" or "family" makes me think that we'll hear more about their father specifically sometime in the future. Or, who knows, maybe their other parent left or died.
Nico: I don't expect you to forgive me. Very few people ever do. So I don't see the point in acting sorry.
This was very interesting as an addendum to the above screenshot. What exactly did Nico "ask for" forgiveness for in the past? Was it just more social blunders, as they described in ch2-e2, or did they get into more trouble closer to this level than we realized? It could also be an indication that Nico has spent time with people who believe that being nonbinary is a crime that Nico needs to feel sorry for. Fascinating stuff, indeed.
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Points for Ace being the killer. We know that he went into this trial looking to suspect Nico ("[...] I'm pretty sure I know who the murderer is. It's not David, it's Nico"), so if Ace is the killer, it would make sense if he'd want to make the crime scene resemble Nico's to make his bait more credible.
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Hey, it's the aforementioned T A P E T I M E, motherfuckers :D (still /j) Personally, it's quite gratifying to hear that it wasn't just a visual malfunction or a minor detail blown way out of proportion.
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You're, uh... getting to this point much faster than I expected, queen. I don't think she's now going to go down the exact same distrustful rabbit hole that she was in before, but there's definitely still potential for her hopes to be crushed by the end of this chapter. Or, maybe she will accept some people as genuine friends, and instead in the future have to confront how she feels when she loses a genuine friend, or not blaming herself for the effects of her luck, or something along those lines. I like that Teruko isn't a static edgy protagonist, though. Like, don't get me wrong, I've always known and appreciated that she has depth, but it's refreshing that she isn't someone who's so stubborn about her own way of thinking that she refuses to admit when she's in the wrong. Teruko really wants friends, guys.
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TERUROSE REAL??????
(Also Rose's speech was excellent as well I just didn't have anything in particular to say about it other than "wow" at the moment)
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Yahoo, lockdown logic strikes again! Also, a quick
Is Teruko Correct In This Assumption?
Personally, I fully think yes, only Ace or Eden could be the culprit at this point. MonoTV confirmed that it tried to restore the Gym to the best of its ability but couldn't return the tape, which means both that there was no tape in the Gym to be taken and that there was never any spare tape in the Storage Room that MonoTV could have used to replace the roll. I guess you could say that there was an extra roll of tape in the Storage Room that someone else took before the murder took place, but that level of coincidence seems implausible at this point in the Trial.
No, for anyone other than Eden or Ace to have acquired the tape, they must have either stolen it from one of those two or asked for it from one of those two. Asking them seems very unlikely-- for starters, if it was Ace who took the tape, I don't think he'd be giving free hand-outs to anyone. And, if Eden isn't the killer herself, that means all of her fright regarding stumbling upon Ace's body was genuine. I don't think she's naive enough to then hand over what was used in Ace's murder to anyone asking... or at least not without bringing it up now. Beyond that, anyone who would ask either of them for the tape would have to know that the tape was used in the murder attempt, knowledge of which was very limited. This episode went to lengths to establish that Nico was the sole culprit behind the attack on Ace, and while it's still possible it could all be an elaborate lie, the explanation Nico gave felt very in character and important for their characterization moving forwards. So, while Nico would obviously know it was used, if Nico asked either of them for the tape, surely neither Eden nor Ace would trust them. Otherwise, I think Rose is the only one who could have found out it was gone, but even so, given that neither Eden nor Ace have tried to argue that Rose asked them for the tape, I don't think that happened.
You could also say the same of neither Eden nor Ace claiming to have had the tape stolen from them-- but I could see either of them feeling like claiming to have taken the tape at all right now would be a death sentence, so I understand why they wouldn't say it. Still, I don't know if the narrative is there to support the tape having been stolen from them. On the day after the Gym murder (Day 7), Eden isn't seen in the daily life at all. If someone stole the tape from Eden on that day, I would think that DRDTdev would at least want to show us who Eden was spending time with on that day (given that he put in the effort to make the tape sprite disappear from the Gym at the time it did), so that we would have any idea who might have done so. Ace is seen once in the Day 7 daily life, arguing with Hu, Nico, Levi, Veronika, and Arei. However, having just been attacked, I imagine he'd be hyper-aware of anyone getting close to him, and therefore would be more likely to notice if someone was rifling around in his pockets (if he has pockets?).
Really, I think the only possible candidates for who could have stolen tape from Ace or Eden would be Levi (mostly just for Ace) and Arei (from either of them). Levi might have had an opportunity to take the tape from Ace on the night he was attacked, the night of Day 6. Eden said last episode that Levi "kept trying to help him" after Ace was attacked, which could imply that Levi was the one to put bandages around Ace's neck. Furthermore, he does have a criminal past, which could make him better at stealing. Similarly, Arei is confirmed to be a good pickpocket, stealing Min's pen without Min noticing at all. I think she's the only one with the proper buildup to have taken the tape from Ace at that breakfast, and would be the most likely to have spent time with Eden when Eden was off-screen. (Although, it would have to have been before lunch, because Eden says the last time she saw Arei was at lunch.)
However, I don't think many people think that Levi is the killer anymore, and if Arei stole the tape from Eden or Ace only for the killer to then steal the tape from Arei, I would start to wonder why DRDTdev even made the tape such a scarce resource in the first place. Remember that, if the killer was purposefully trying to recreate Nico's idea, they likely knew in advance that they would need the tape to pull off their plan. It was used in enough places that seizing the opportunity to take it off of Arei seems unlikely, as it was too fundamental to the plan's inception. Besides, for the killer to replicate Nico's plan in the first place, the killer likely needs to be Nico, Eden, Ace, or Teruko, who are the ones who could have most easily taken the tape on their own.
I've already seen people accuse this Trial of being bloated, and while I strongly disagree (I only think cases are bloated when they're stalling for time and have nothing of interest to discuss, and we've still had PLENTY of interesting stuff to discuss), if we spent a whole 'nother who-knows-how-many episodes reversing all of the progress we just made to say that either Nico wasn't actually the one to kill Ace or that someone who didn't see the crime scene killed Arei, that bloating problem would only seem worse to those people.
I understand if you don't want to believe that Eden or Ace has to be the culprit for whatever reasons-- whether that be that they're your favorites and you don't want them to die or you really like your theory and don't want it to be false-- but I really think that this episode cemented that either Ace or Eden will be voted for as the blackened for all of the reasons above. Therefore, I shall be proceeding accordingly.
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She was WILD for this. Hilarious line of reasoning.
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What's Up With the Body Discovery Announcement?
The "reveal" of this line of logic was no surprise to me. As someone who's believed that Eden is the culprit for quite a long time, we've had to figure out ways to get around this thing before, and besides perhaps "not witnessing the murder," someone else seeing the body before the BDA rang is the most obvious way to cheese it.
However, in order for this to be a thing, we have to ask ourselves-- who would have actually seen the body first?
David claims to, but he has an alibi starting at 7:30 AM with Veronika and J. Both because Arei theoretically wasn't dead before then and because we've been operating off of the assumption that a meal takes about 30 minutes to eat, I don't think any of the three of them could have stumbled across Arei in the morning. Nico and Hu both have an alibi, which I'm going to consider solid enough to remove them from possibility-- one of them spotting the body would be helpful to make Eden the killer, and I think the only people who believe that Hu and Nico are lying only believe so under the condition that one of them is the killer. Whit is out, because him seeing the body beforehand doesn't actually accomplish anything, and so is Charles, because we can assume that, if he saw the body, he would be out of commission. I'm also going to strike Rose from seeing the body before breakfast, both because she's very likely to have been asleep and because if she had already seen Arei's body in the Playground, she probably wouldn't have refused to draw a diagram. That would leave only Ace, Levi, and Arturo as non-blackeneds who could have helped facilitate culprit!Eden from not being caught by the BDA.
However, we also have to consider that "before 8 AM" isn't the only time someone could have stumbled across Arei's body. They also could have seen it before Teruko, Eden, and Whit did while everyone was looking for Arei. So, what do we know about what happened during the search for Arei? Not much. Hu says that they should split up, while J says she's going to check Arei's room. Teruko says that most people are probably searching the first floor, an assumption that's supported by Teruko, Eden, and Whit not seeing anyone else while they check the second floor. You might think that would eliminate the possibility of anyone else seeing Arei's body during the search, but Teruko did say most people, not all. There's also what MonoTV said when Teruko and Veronika were investigating the Gym.
MonoTV: It's too high! If you stood in the movie screening room on floor one and started punching through the walls, you'd fall into the playground.
This not-yet-addressed piece of evidence got me thinking about the possibility of someone seeing Arei's body from above, standing in the Motive Screening Room. It still probably couldn't be Teruko, Whit, Charles, Rose, or J, but anyone else would theoretically be back on the table if that were the case. That being said, I can't find any visual differences in how the Motive Screening Room looks between the beginning of Chapter 2, when the search for Arei begins, and when Teruko goes to check the motive secrets (other than a curtain being added over the screen in the third case). So, unless there was already a heretofore unmentioned hole to peek through in the room, I wouldn't count on that being the case. The connection between the Motive Screening Room and the Playground will probably just be relevant to a different chapter.
Therefore, that leaves us once again with Ace, Levi, and Arturo. The main problem with believing that any of them could have seen the body beforehand is why they wouldn't have brought that up at this point in the Trial. Here are my best guesses as to why:
Ace: I have genuinely no clue why Ace wouldn't have brought up that he saw the body in the morning (assuming that he actually did) to defend himself at this point. It's not like it would make anyone more suspicious of you.
Levi: Levi does seem to be a bit dense regarding what is and isn't helpful behavior in a Trial, so the most likely possibility to me is that he just didn't realize that confirming he saw her was helpful. Like, "oh, I didn't realize that me confirming that I saw Arei would help us pin down Eden as the killer. I was just trying to figure out how David and I both saw Arei's body this morning and I didn't see him." "Wh-- David was obviously lying!" "He was?" "I already told you he was lying before..." "Levi... we talked about this..." Bonus points for it not being out of character for Levi to be unfazed by seeing a body, though.
Arturo: In Arturo's case, I think it would have to be that he'd still be worried about people seeing him as suspicious for saying he found Arei's body in the case of accusing Eden specifically. They already have a past history of conflict, and I could see someone brashly accusing Arturo of throwing Eden under the bus just to get revenge on her for the secret thing (even if I don't think he would actually do that). He also made an enemy out of Arei, so I don't think he would be particularly fazed by seeing her corpse either-- similarities to Felicity's cause of death notwithstanding. However, I also find it likely that he trailed after J in going to check Arei's room.
So, what's our conclusion here? Does this mean that Eden is basically fully cleared by triggering the BDA? I wouldn't count her out just yet, but the evidence isn't looking great for her. It's quite possible David only brought up this argument to A) hold out suspension of disbelief that it's not just Ace for a little while longer, B) drop this logic as foreshadowing for a future killer's plan, C) characterize the kind of logic he uses in a Class Trial, or D) bring up this argument in canon so that the people who theorized that the BDA might not clear Eden or Whit wouldn't be like, "wait, but what about...?" However, it's also possible that one of the possibilities I listed above, something I might have missed, or the "see no evil" idea (as FF put it) could keep Eden in contention. That dynamism is part of what makes Ace and Eden feel so evenly matched.
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See, this is what I assumed David was getting at after Nico reminded me of his early-morning alibi. But then he just kept talking...
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I'm not going to delve into what David was thinking here too much, because I already have an anonymous ask about what I think David's rationale was that this will almost certainly come up in. However, as a short version, I imagine that David is trying to get everyone angry at each other in the hopes that it'll incite another murder that he can get the class to fail? Or to cause enough discord in the group that they just fail this one. That would be why he also rags on Rose for not remembering the tape, and insults Arturo's sister-- he wants no one to trust anyone so that the murder-solving process will be as un-streamlined as possible.
The fact that he targets Teruko so specifically is probably because he (accurately) assesses her as the only real threat there. Charles and Rose can help, sure, but their mental struggles make them easy enough to eliminate if you play your cards right. Teruko's main flaw is her lack of trust, so if David wants to weaken her, it makes sense to go right for that jugular. Furthermore, by stating his plans so plainly and publicly, it might incite other people to fight back against him and say that Teruko should trust them. However, that kind of olive branch might make Teruko even less inclined to get close to them, if what Teruko said to Eden at the end of ch2-e03 can tell us anything. Didn't stop Eden from trying at the end of this last episode, though!
After taking some more time to think about what David was up to this chapter, I might change my mind on those being his goals. But, this post does serve as my initial thoughts of sorts, and that's what I initially think about this scene.
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I wholeheartedly agree.
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Does Ace Have Nothing To Do With Arei?
What Ace has to say is more or less true-- barring the breakfast in which Arei didn't talk at all (AKA, no conversation), Ace has literally never been in a small group event with Arei. However, although they didn't talk to each other, Ace did overhear the conversation between David and Arei, which does give him a connection to Arei. Quite relevantly, Arei did say this to David during their conversation:
Arei: You said that sharing our secrets would help fight against the motive. But when I think about it, not a single good thing has come out of that. Eden was stupidly naive, as usual, and tried to talk to Arturo, so now I have to protect her.
From this, Ace could probably surmise that Eden had Arturo's secret, she talked to him about it, and that Arei stepped in to save her from Arturo. He was one of the few people who could have known that Eden and Arei grew closer before the murder occurred: another connection Ace had to information about Arei.
However, before you use that evidence to call Ace the killer, let me remind you that he still doesn't have enough information to write the note from just eavesdropping on this conversation alone. As I outlined in this theory (same as the one I just linked above), whoever wrote the note had to specifically know that Arturo's secret was about his sister, which Arei doesn't divulge (quite possibly because she didn't even know) to David. Therefore, although Arei mentioning Arturo and Eden in this conversation is interesting, it doesn't actually make Ace any more likely to be the killer, because he still would have needed to find some way to spy on Eden's secret and/or Arturo and Eden's conversation to write that note. (Unless mentioning the sister specifically was an oversight plot hole, but I never want to use that as my reasoning.)
So, do I get what Arturo is getting at? Yeah, Ace and Arei were never particularly involved, and Eden clearly has a greater connection to the victim. However, there is more to the Ace/Arei bond than it might first appear, and it's possible that could come up in the Trial moving forward.
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This distinction-- between "Arei was my friend" and "Arei could have been my friend"-- could be very telling down the line. Eden pauses mid-tear-filled rant to distinguish that Arei is not her friend, not because she's dead, but because they hadn't reached that point yet. Arei is not Eden's friend in death. What can that possibly mean other than that Eden killed Arei?
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... BUT THEN HOW THE FUCK CAN EDEN GO AND SAY ALL OF THIS, BE THE KILLER, AND THEREFORE PROVE DAVID RIGHT???
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AND THE "BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS DO" REFERENCE??? AT THIS HOUR????? I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THAT MAKES HER SEEM MORE OR LESS SUSPICIOUS!!!!
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OUGH AND THE MIN PARALLELS TOOOOOOO
MIN WAS TERUKO'S FRIEND BUT ALSO A KILLER. DOES THAT MEAN EDEN IS GOING TO BREAK THE CYCLE OR DOES IT MEAN THAT WE'RE STUCK IN A DOOMED STORY IN WHICH TERUKO IS THE PROTAGONIST? IT COULD GO EITHER WAY!!!
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Jumping back in time for just a moment...
A Piece of Evidence That Lines Up to Them Only
I thought about making this its own separate post, but decided not to. If you guys want me to make this part it's own separate post so it's easier to find/comment on directly, let me know, and I'll set that up.
But before you can make your decision, I suppose I have to explain what I aim to do here. Basically, Teruko has told us that she's still torn between Eden and Ace (mood), and that, while she'll start off attacking Ace, she's looking for any pieces of evidence that could prove that only one of them could have committed the crime. Problem is, we have no indication of what that specific piece of evidence could be, and, trust me, it could be a lot of them. Thus, what I'm going to do in this "mini" theory is list out every piece of evidence that I can think of, and say whether it points to Eden being the culprit, Ace being the culprit, or it can't point to either of them. Perhaps once we're done, you'll see why I'm so conflicted on which of them it would be.
I'm going to tier these pieces of evidence in terms of least likely to be the missing piece to most likely to be the missing piece, starting with all of the aforementioned unexplained gym evidence. The knocked over benches and weight rack were not part of the replicated crime scene, and I have no idea how Ace or Eden would have wound up with any version of Nico's cowl. The missing tape on the pull-up bar has the greatest likelihood to be relevant, but as we're already suspecting both of them for having the tape, I don't think it'd be a decision maker. Any of those pieces of evidence would be likely to come up in proving that Nico wasn't the one behind Ace's murder, but this theory is operating under the assumption that Nico is the one who tried to kill Ace, and either Ace or Eden killed Arei. If you want the answers for your own theory, do your own homework. (/lh)
Ace or Eden will get a point for any evidence that I think would better be used to accuse them as being the culprit. Therefore, winning points is actually a bad thing if you want to be innocent. For convenience of "scoring," Eden will be purple because of her shirt and Ace will be pink because of his "maroon" hair... and because I needed red and orange for the likelihood ranking.
UNLIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE
Arei's Body Swinging: This evidence has already been used to establish that Arei was killed in the morning, not at night. Either Ace or Eden could have killed Arei at 7:30 AM, so point to neither of them.
Ace Trying to Assign Himself to Guard Duty: This one is obviously a point for Ace if it were the final piece, but it's such a minor happenstance that I doubt Teruko would think to bring it up as the main thing against him. Like, she could bring it up in general, but I don't think it'd be her crowning jewel. Still, it's a piece of evidence we haven't discussed yet, so credit where credit is due.
Arei's Bound Wrists: Bound by the grippy tape that either of them could have stolen. Point to no one.
Broken Playground Lights: The lights in the Playground are broken, likely from the mechanism being hung up through the ceiling rafters. You could argue that this is a point for Ace's strength, but I don't think throwing a ball that high requires so much strength that Eden couldn't do it, especially if you might be able to use the see-saw to launch it somehow. Point to no one.
Dried Up Puddles: This has nothing to do with either of them. Point to no one.
Carousel Wrapped in Tape: Again, either could have had the tape, so point to no one.
Two Pieces of Rope: Either of them could have taken the rope from Storage and cut it; point to no one.
Food/Utensils/Napkins in Trash: Probably David's dinner. Possibly evidence of Eden and Arei having breakfast together, but that's a stretch. Point to no one.
Cups/Tissues/Palette in Trash: Rose says these were hers. Point to no one.
Incense in Trash: I know thebadjoe had (has?) theories about this being used to conceal the scent of Arei's body being hidden in the Relaxation Room a day earlier than anyone thought, but I find that to be too much of a stretch to accost Eden for it here. I think it's just filler. Point to no one.
Grippy Tape in Trash: I should just stop writing out tape evidence. Point to no one.
Broken Jugs: The killer used jugs of water to make Arei heavier, which broke when she fell. They probably had the fish water in them, but we're not talking about the fish themselves at the moment. I'll say point for Ace because the jugs are probably from the Gym, and we've seen Ace in the Gym far more times than we've seen Eden.
Needle and Black Thread: This evidence... might have to do with the ball of clothes, which we'll get to later. However, if this is relevant to the murder, it's probably from the Dress-Up Room, in which we've seen Eden but never Ace. Point to Eden.
Construction of the Note: After a bit of internal debate, I'm going to call this a point for no one. Why? Well, it's because Eden would have reason to help construct the note whether she was the killer or not. If she is the killer, she might have wanted to guide the discussion that followed its reconstruction, to urge to Rose and Whit that she's innocent and that someone must have framed her. It would also give her reason to come into the Trial already having a handwriting sample on her. However, if Eden is innocent, she also easily could have just wanted to help out. Most importantly, Eden already brought up the note being constructed in her initial defense, so I doubt Teruko would reuse it as the nail in someone's coffin.
Splashing Arei With Water: Either of them could have thought of this and accomplished this. Point to no one.
SOMEWHAT LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE
Body Discovery Announcement: While this may very well play an important part in solving the case, I don't think it'll be the final smash, so to speak. That's mostly because we already talked about it a lot in determining whether Eden could have done it. In the end, I think we'll either have to come up with a way to justify Eden having cheated the BDA-- by Levi or Arturo having seen it or via see no evil-- or we'll accuse Ace without the BDA being a problem. I guess I have to call this a point for Eden because if the BDA were to be the damning evidence, I think it'd have to be for her. However, in my heart, this is totally evidence supporting Ace being the killer.
Arei's Broken Neck: I'm using this as a stand-in for the strength of the killer, in the sense of lifting Arei up and being able to stop the carousel. This is a point for Ace, because he's a professional athlete and Eden is generally the weakest person in the cast.
Scratches on the Ground: This evidence certainly seems to indicate that there was a struggle at the Playground, but is there anything more to it than that? I'm more willing to believe that Ace could have beaten Arei in a fight, but does that point to Eden because there would've been more of a struggle, or Ace because Eden wouldn't have wanted to fight Arei at all? Ace also normally wears heels (while Eden and Arei don't), which is what Hu cites will naturally scratch up the floor. This evidence is vague enough that I don't think it'll be used to point to either of them, but if it did, I think it's more likely to be Ace.
Ball of Starched Clothes: For starters, I'll share (I think it's) thebadjoe's theory that the ball was adhered together using starch from the Relaxation Room that's sprayed on the plants at night, because I saw some people questioning how the clothes could have been stuck together. Anyways, the ball of clothes itself is definitely a point for Eden, because we saw her in the Dress-Up Room specifically looking for Teruko's clothes. Although, Ace certainly saw Teruko and Hu's new fits, so he could have figured it out for himself.
Actual Acquisition of the Tape: I don't think this will be used as the final piece just because I feel like the narrative is pointing towards the damning evidence relating to Arei's actual murder as opposed to Nico's. However, it's relevant to discuss, so I'll list it here. Although Teruko says that Ace and Eden had equal odds at the tape, on the surface, it really makes much more sense if Eden was the one to take it. Star explained it well here, but I'll add my own recap: in the moments when the tape must have been taken, in between when Nico leaves and when MonoTV kicks everyone out, Ace is recovering from unconsciousness, covered in blood, full of rage, and has all eyes on him. Meanwhile, Eden is scared, sure, but she had a clear moment to actually examine the scene of the crime and is also knocked to the ground-- potentially right next to the tape-- with all her wits about her. While it's not impossible to believe that Ace sleight-of-handed the tape, Eden had a much clearer path to taking it. Point to Eden.
MOST LIKELY FINAL PIECES OF EVIDENCE
Arei's Missing Glove: To my memory, Arei's glove hasn't been brought up in the Trial at all, which is definitely strange, because it must be missing for a reason. If DRDTdev is crafting so much detail into the BDA that the swinging of the body is plot-relevant, there's no way he would have just missed giving Arei her glove. The question is, what was this used for? Those who are familiar with my theories should know that I've never been a fan of dress-up theories, so I'm going to discount that possibility. The thing I thought was the most likely was that the killer donned the glove so that their hands wouldn't get super scratched up from grabbing the grippy tape-d carousel bars, before gleamingtempest reminded everyone that both Eden and Ace already wear gloves. Still, looking at them, Eden's gloves are probably made of something more like cotton while Ace's gloves likely have some sort of tougher grip on the inside. So, Eden would probably be more likely to need something else to protect her hands. Also, given that both of Arei's wrists have marks on them, the glove was likely taken off before her wrists were tied. I can't figure out why Ace would have taken off Arei's glove before restraining her or how he would have gotten Arei to take it off otherwise, while for Eden, at least, I can imagine her asking Arei to take off her glove. Therefore, I'm going to call this one a point for Eden, while also throwing out that it might just be missing if Arei didn't bother putting on her glove for the early morning meetup.
Fish on the Playground: You've heard it from me before, Eden has an alibi through the entire time the fish could have been taken. With seemingly no accomplices (other than possibly Arei) in sight, I don't know how Eden would have gotten her hands on those fish. Meanwhile, Ace had a great opportunity. Point for Ace.
Pieced-Together Note: This evidence is very confusing, because I don't see how/why either of them would have implemented it. For Ace, I wrote that entire theory (I'm not going to link it a third time) about how, based on the information in the note and the layout of the first floor, it really seemed like eavesdropping was impossible, and the person who wrote the note had to be Arturo or Eden. Then there's what thefandomenchantress pointed out about Ace's pedantry making it seem like he wouldn't misspell "responsible" in the note, and that he just doesn't give me the vibes of someone who writes in cursive. By all accounts, it really seems like Ace can't have written that note. But then again, why would Eden have written that note? Okay, bad phrasing; she wrote it to get Arei to come to the Playground. But still, why would she sign it? Or if she were to sign it, to make sure that Arei knew it was her, why include so much detail about what Arturo's secret was? More importantly, why wouldn't Eden have just stuffed the ripped up note into her belt, or her pockets, or her room if it would serve to incriminate her? Put it wherever she put that glove! Hell, why not eat the note, if it's a life or death situation? There's the "reverse psychology" argument, but similar to what Teruko said this episode, it would have been much simpler for Eden to have pretended that Arei came to the Playground for some other reason without the killer planting some sort of note meant to frame her. And it's not like I think Eden is really the type to misspell "responsible" either. So, I'm kind of at a loss. It's such a major piece of evidence that I feel it has to come into play again somehow, but I'm not sure how. I think I'm going to call this one a point for Ace because at the very least I understand why he would want to leave this evidence here, even if I don't know how he created it. For Eden, I don't get why she'd leave it lying around, even if in pieces. You can call it revenge for Eden getting the point on the BDA, if you wish.
So, what are the results? If you add up all the points together, you wind up with 6 points for Ace and 6 points for Eden. Funny. If you tier the points, however, with 1 point for unlikely pieces, 2 points for somewhat likely pieces, and 3 points for the most likely pieces, you get 12 points for Ace and 10 points for Eden. Of course, that's using my tierlist of which pieces of evidence are most likely and on top of that, assigning the BDA and the Note the way that they are (if you flip them it's 11-11), but still. If you're invested in my findings, these are the results.
Needless to say, I hope you can understand why I'm having such a hard time determining which one of them will turn out to be the killer. Although, I must add...
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If we're suspecting Ace first before we've done our Debate Scrum, that's not a good look for Eden never being suspected again in this Trial.
Concluding Thoughts
What? A conclusion? I've never done one of these on a dissection before?!!
Yeah, well, this time, I have stuff to say that I couldn't really correlate to one image in particular! And also I ran out of images, so this is what you get!!!
I spent that whole "A Piece of Evidence" section talking about the physical evidence that could support Ace or Eden being Arei's killer, but in it, I really didn't get to talk about the narrative implications of either of them being the killer at all. I know that Narrative Defenses are typically Venus' thing, but I have my thoughts on this, too. Namely, that both of them are riddled with narrative problems for being the killer at this point.
(Note: I don't mean "problems" in the sense that DRDTdev has written anything poorly. What I mean is, my own perception of how the characters are conveyed has me currently raising red flags about how either of their stories will pan out as a killer or how the rest of the story will pan out without them. At the time the answer comes, I have full faith that I'll be satisfied with the results.)
Let's start by looking at Eden, the spotlight character of the end of this episode. After that whole heartfelt speech with the CGs and the tears and the brilliant voice acting and the everything, how could Eden possibly be the killer?! I'm the one who was trying to defend the possibility of her still being the culprit after her little rant last week, and while I could probably do that again with this speech, it just felt so... I dunno, sincere. You can really feel Teruko's reluctance to put her faith in Eden, but her choice to do it anyways. Teruko already showed signs of growth this episode by admitting that she can't always solve mysteries by herself, so could that be a sign that she might come around on the group faster than we initially anticipated? If Eden was the killer, it would crush Teruko so hard. Is there any recovering from that? Can we really prove David right?
On the other hand, Ace is, quite possibly, one of the most intertwined members of the cast. He's probably Levi and Nico's #1 correspondent, and he's up there for Hu as well-- assuming they both survive the chapter, I'm sure their animosity towards each other will only grow in Chapter 3. With Ace just having given up on Levi, having just been the target of Nico's battery and Hu's verbal lashes, can the story really work without him in it at this point? Eden hardly has connections with anyone other than Teruko-- Hu's probably next, but Eden probably ranks, like, fourth on her list after Nico, Ace, and David-- which should make her more expendable. Is it really Ace's time already?
However, despite my complaints, I also think that both of them could be really good options as the killer here-- the two options I prefer over anybody else.
Eden is the character who's most connected with Arei. She plays into the chapter themes of being a good person beautifully. She's a good person, a tragic figure, that killed not because she wanted anybody dead, but presumably because she had something back at home that she had to get back to at all costs. Killing her off would break Teruko-- would break everyone. With the reveal of everyone's secrets, next chapter is going to be a living hell, so why not make that hell worse by removing the biggest conflict de-escalator here? It would force other people to step up to bat. It would give everyone a chance to change, what Eden wanted for Arei most of all. Eden's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that even the "most good" people can do the unspeakable.
Meanwhile, Ace has perhaps the most obvious reason to kill someone: he literally almost fucking died himself. Ace's execution would be a reminder of the physical reality of the killing game. That actions have consequences. Even if the guy who started all those fights is dead and gone, you can still feel his presence lingering in the arguments between the others. The guy you underestimated most of all-- not for being kind, but for being dumb-- can send you into a multi-hour spiral in which you accuse even the sweetest of participants. Ace's development isn't an arc, per say, but a fall-- a reminder that reveling in your own distrust and anger might lead you to do the unspeakable.
For someone who's spent so long believing that Eden is the culprit of the chapter, it's really amazing how down-to-the-wire DRDTdev has made the end of the case, where either option feels so believable that it's like you can picture the rope in their hands. Whether my theories, old or new, were right or wrong, I am highly looking forward to watching next week's episode and discussing it with you all. See you on Friday-- just try not to freak out too much before then, alright? (/aff)
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Hi! Could you talk more about "character development exercises", please?:]
Character Development Exercises
Character development exercises are writing exercises you can do to help you explore and develop your characters. This isn't a required part of writing or character development, but many writers find it helpful. Here are some that I like to do when I'm struggling to get to know a character:
Character Interview - imagine that you’ve pulled your character out of a story into the room and now have the opportunity to interview them. What questions would you ask them? What do you want to know about them that you don’t already know? What do you think the reader would want to know? What might be pertinent to the story that you haven’t thought about yet?
TV Crew follow around - Imagine you’ve dropped an invisible TV crew into your story’s world to follow your character around through an average day (even if it's anachronistic). Follow them from the moment they wake up until the moment they go to bed that night. What are they like when they wake up? What is their morning routine? What do they eat for breakfast? How do they get ready? What do they do throughout the day? Who do they interact with? What else do they eat and drink? What do they do for fun or relaxation? How to they make money or meet their basic needs? What is their bedtime routine like?
Letters or Journal Entries - Look at your character's back story, off-screen events, etc. and find something for your character to write about in a journal entry or a letter to another character. What would they say about this event? How does it make them feel? What do they think about it?
Use Your Character in a Writing Prompt - Look at some writing prompts and do one using your character as the main character. You can keep it within your story's world or plop them into a whole different world. Whatever works for you and your story. This is about getting to know this character in a different context than the events of your story provides.
Create a Character Mood Board/Aesthetic - Mood boards go a long way in mentally fleshing out a character for me. Being able to have a visual representation of their style, their vibe, things that are important to them, etc. really turns them into real people in my mind.
Create a Playlist for Your Character - I think playlists can also be a really great way to mentally flesh out a character in your mind. Sometimes, just having a particular song or a playlist of songs that makes you think of them gives them some dimension they wouldn't otherwise have.
Happy writing!
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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Ooh so for the prompts
Spitting in their mouth and hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch with Fyodor? Cause he's often super prideful and I have a huge corruption (idk if you'd call it that) kink and it would be fun to break him a lil <3
HAPPY ONE YEAR BLOG ANNIVERSARY BTW YOUR WORK IS AMAZINGGG 💗
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THANK YOU DARLING <33 oh and I paired these up cuz they’re a little similar :] (also I feel like this one isn’t that good)
Dom!reader x sub!fyodor - reader is gn
Warning: mirror play, biting, kissing, marking, hair pulling, spiting, teasing, dirty talk (?), a bit manhandling
Anniversary event
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“See your reflection, fedya?” You made eye contact with him through the mirror, chin resting on his shoulder while he made himself comfortable in your lap. “Of course I do.” Fyodor answered, a slight frown on his face. He wondered why you wanted to bring a mirror into your play session. “Mhm, look at you, such a pretty boy.” A slight rustle of your clothes, then you pointed at the laid out scene in front of you, kissing his neck softly when you noticed him watching.
His shoulders jerked a little, heart racing by a lot, most of it being due to shame. A shiver ran down his spine. “Is this all? A little bit of kissing?” He teased, almost disappointed as he turned around to properly look you in the eyes. You shook your head, nudging him in order to make him look back into the mirror, mumbling, “be a good boy and keep watching. It’ll be fun.” The ‘good boy’ in question didn’t see the ‘fun’ in it like you did, though nonetheless, he listened to you and obediently did as he was told.
Then you resumed kissing him, moving your lips along the smooth edges of his jawline, down to his throat and lastly his shoulders. You felt him relax in your grasp, a soft sigh leaving his lips while he slumps back against your chest. Seeing how peaceful this was, you wanted to tease him a little, blowing hot air against his ear as you asked, “Feels nice?” He nodded, eyes half-lidded as he lazily gazed into the mirror, still a little confused. “Ah? Want some more action then?”
Fyodor didn’t think much about it, he must have been dozing off since he nodded so easily. “I’ll start slow so don’t worry.” You smirked, then chomped down on his neck, leaving behind nasty bite marks. “Ah- ahhhHh.??!” He yelped in surprise at the sharp pain spreading from the wound, irritating his skin. When you bit him, you didn’t know when to stop, all you could feel was his tender skin getting crushed and the hardness of the muscles a layer beneath.
That’s why it went as far as you drawing blood.
His gaze fixated on his reflection in the mirror, playing out in front of him like a movie. He felt his insides twist and curl when he saw some blood prickling from his bite wound, and you licking it up eagerly. “Ughh..!” When he tried to turn his head around once more, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, forcing him to stay seated. “Wha- y/n..?” You interrupted him, “I told you to look ahead, fyodor.” He gulped, eyes slowly wandering back to the object opposite of him.
Poor boy, he couldn’t keep his small whines of pain mixed with lust down whenever you tugged at his hair, or left more marks of ownership on his skin. Soon, his neck and shoulder area looked like a battlefield, with all these bites and hints of remaining blood. Then, by accident, your eyes met. He fixated on your gaze through the mirror, shivering with anticipation. You whispered with an unreadable smile, “aren’t you a cute thing? Making such lewd sounds just by watching your reflection?”
He digressed, wanting to turn around again before stopping himself, not wanting to disobey your orders again, “you’ve been making advanced on me, of course this would happen.” It sounded more like an excuse than an argument, and he didn’t exactly say it with much conviction. “Is that so?” You asked again, pulling at his silky hair. Now you were the one to make him turn and look at you.
“Huh?” His eyes widened, blinking a few times in shock. Fyodor was arching his back because of you tugging his head backwards, hands bawled into fists as he rest them on his thighs. “Stick your tongue out, fedya.” You said, face hovering inches above him, gazing down at him all smug and affectionate. He thought you were going to kiss him, so he blushed a little, then obliged nonetheless. Awkwardly sticking his tongue out, eyelids hanging low over his pupils.
You thought he looked really cute like that. Looking so eager to kiss you, basically trembling with excitement. With something so cute in your presence, you wouldn’t not smile, lips pressed tightly shut to suppress a smirk before kissing the tip of his nose. He frowned at your teasing gesture, wet muscle still hanging out like you wanted. “Don’t look so mad.” You chirped and leaned down to his lips, but instead of doing what he expected, you also stuck out your tongue and let your saliva drip down into his mouth.
He was like frozen, unmoving like a statue. Then you clasped a hand over his lips, telling him, “swallow.” It took a moment for him to register your words, but when he did, his cheeks flushed and he shook his head. “Why, embarrassed?” You muttered, continuing with, “don’t be, I’ve made you do worse.” Fyodor hesitated, then gulped, you saw his Adam’s apple moving. Once he finished, you pulled your hand back, and a whimper immediately followed.
“HnnGh…” some tears were swelling in the corners of his eyes, or you were just imagining it. Nevertheless, you leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “see? Wasn’t so hard. And it seems you enjoyed it in the end anyway.” He whined again, involuntarily of course but he still did, and avoided your gaze by turning to the side, mumbling meekly, “stop talking..” seeing how worked up he was, you couldn’t help yourself, grinning from ear to ear as you teased, “you sure? Since based on your little whimpers, you seem to like what I’m doing quite a bit.”
There was no answer from him, he was way too humiliated to do anything against your relentless teasing. The boy shuddered, and you let go of his hair, instead making him look into the mirror again. “Anyway, shall we continue where we left off?” He had to brace himself for a long night.
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preppyacademy · 3 days
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From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now
Elliot's story
To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 
Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 
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Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 
My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 
There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 
" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "
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I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 
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I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 
"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "
I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 
" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."
I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 
" Then we do have your agreement. "
My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.
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I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 
"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "
I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 
“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...
This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 
When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 
I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.
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I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 
"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "
These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 
"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "
The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 
" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "
“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 
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I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 
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Rodydeku headcanons part 1 :)
I'm going insane over these two hggggg-
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(this screenshot from the movie makes me cackle everytime-)
• Rody fell first, no questions asked. Deku fell a bit later when he actually had the time to consider his feelings when he WASN'T fighting villains and dealing with vestiges every three seconds.
• Before they parted after the humarise crisis, they exchanged numbers so they could still talk. And, I kid you not, as soon as Deku got home he called Rody immediately. Rody played it cool like-- "damn, miss me already hero??" As if he hadn't been staring at Deku's contact for the past ten minutes wanting to call him but not wanting to seem like he missed him or anything (he really, really missed him).
• From then on, they pretty much call each other every other night when they're free, giving each other general updates (or just to hear each other's voice) (Rody's like kicking his feet and twirling his hair during these calls-)
• Rody's contact for Deku is "mass murderer (heart emoji)" the heart emoji was added a little later on when Rody worked up the balls. Deku's contact name for Rody isn't anything special, just his name with a little ":)" on the side.
• Rody's crush is soooo bad. He definitely keeps up with anything hero-related on the news just so he can talk about it with Deku during their next call.
• I think Rody's voice helps Deku relax a lot, even if he doesn't realize why (keep this in mind, it'll come into play later).
• Rody thinks about the time when Deku spiderman-ed him around Otheon. A lot.
• Deku told everyone is class 1-A about Rody, more than he talked about the actual humarise crisis.
• During Rody's visit to Japan (in the spin off "team up missions" manga), I like to think he started developing a bit of an inferiority complex to Deku's friends.
• Like, who was he to Deku compared to all these friends that had been through so much together?? Compared to them, he was literally just some guy he saved the world with once.
• It didn't help hearing all the stories about Deku solving villain crisis after villain crisis with said friends.
• Of course Deku didn't think that way, and considered Rody a friend just like he considered everyone in class A a friend (with something a little extra there but he hasn't realized that yet).
• Deku once sent a picture of him and Eri during a little playdate to Rody the backflip his heart did when he learned that Deku was good with kids-
• Also, seeing Deku get along and be sweet with his siblings almost killed him.
• Sometimes, Pino will steal Rody's phone and send a random cluster of emojis with ninety percent of them being hearts. Deku was a little confused when this first happened, but after Rody (frantically) explained it was Pino, whenever it happens Deku just goes "hi pino!"
• Deku grows to be able to read Rody pretty well, even when he hides Pino from him. Although, having a friend with a built-in lie detector is pretty convenient.
• "Have you been missing me at all??" "Pssh, nah, you cause way too much trouble for me-" *distressed chirping in the background* "PINO." "I miss you too Rody :)"
• Rody pokes fun at Deku for the mass murderer incident all the damn time. "I don't know man, do I really wanna hang out with a mass murderer??" "Oh no, please don't hurt me mister mass murderer."
• Deku going on hero rants and Rody going on plane rants and both of them listening to each other with full attention :( <3
• Okay let's get into the more angsty stuff.
• After the war, and after all the villains escaped tarturus, and planes stopped getting to Japan and stuff, Rody was kinda worried (he was VERY worried).
• He was at work when all the commotion was on the news, and he completely froze when they mentioned UA high school. As soon as he got home, he tried to call Deku to make sure he was okay, but he got no answer. Because by then, Deku had already left UA high.
• Deku didn't want Rody to worry about him, so he pretty much ignored all his calls (feeling incredibly guilty as he did so) (also for the sake of it let's pretend he still had his phone).
• Rody tried so many times to call him, wanting to pull his hair out every time he was sent to voicemail. He was losing sleep just worrying about him, and Rody's siblings noticed. They tried a lot to try and get Rody to cheer up, which he did appreciate despite still being worried.
• He wasn't picking up his phone, and leaving a text just wasn't enough. So, eventually, he decided to leave a bunch of voice messages, as some way to make himself feel better.
• They started off with him trying not to sound too worried:
• "Hey, Deku! It's been a little while since I've heard from you. I know you're probably busy with everything happening in Japan right now. Call me back when you get the chance."
"The past few weeks at work have been exhausting. People are acting like the world's gonna end, but I'm sure things'll be alright. That's why we have heroes like you, right?"
"I was able to take Roro and Lala out yesterday, I sent you the pictures. Did you know Roro grew a whole inch?? Soon he's gonna be as tall as me!"
• Until they eventually grew more and more concerned and desperate:
• "Hey, I saw the news this morning. Japan is in really bad shape right now. Is everyone in UA alright??"
"You are getting these, right? If you have, please at least send me a message saying something. Roro and Lala have been worried, you know."
"Deku, I know things have probably been rough for you over there. For you and everyone else. I know I don't know you as well as your friends at UA, and I know that in the end I can't understand what's happening over there. But whatever you're dealing with right now, I'm willing to listen. So...please. If you're getting these- if you're even alive- just let me know. I'm worried, okay...?"
• At some point, Rody gave up on trying, only hoping that somehow Deku was okay, and that maybe he just wasn't getting his messages.
• But Deku was. And he listened to every single one, resisting to the urge to send him something, or call him. But he told himself it'd cause Rody more trouble if he responded, so instead, he just listened to each voicemail over and over, finding comfort in Rody's voice (he also looked at pictures of him with his friends for comfort as well but this isn't about them/j).
• After class A dragged Deku back to UA by the ear, once he was finally able to rest, he couldn't help but think about Rody and finally responding to him, but he wasn't sure what he would say, and he had a bunch of other things to worry about at the moment, so it slipped his mind.
• But eventually, as Rody was laying in bed thinking about Deku (as he had been doing for the past few weeks), he decided to try calling him again cause god damn it why not. He wasn't expecting a response, but at least he could say he tried.
• And to his surprise, Deku answered.
• At first, Rody just kinda sat there in shock, trying to process the sound of Deku's voice. And finally, weeks worth of emotions came spilling out and he just started ugly sobbing while yelling at him and questioning where he's been. Deku tried to calm him down a little, which only made Rody even more upset because how DARE you tell him to calm after you up and disappear for weeks without any sort of communication!!
• Knowing Rody's anger was justified, Deku told him he'd explain everything. And he did.
• He spent the next hour explaining everything that had happened to Rody. From the very beginning. How he was originally quirkless, how he got one for all, one for all's vestiges, the league of villains, All for one, Shigaraki. He explained everything, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he did so. Rody, though confused and confounded, listened intently.
• Once he was finished, Deku apologized profoundly for not telling Rody any of this, and how he just didn't want him to be put in danger. That's when Rody realized just how big the burden Deku had been carrying all this time, all by himself, truly was.
• "You've already put me in danger once before, hero." Rody said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Deku let out an weak, involuntary laugh. "You didn't have to hide this from me...you listened to all voice messages right? I meant it when I said I was willing to listen. You really don't have to carry that all by yourself..."
• Deku really couldn't help but sob once again at the support he got from one of his dear friends. And hearing Deku cry, Rody said he was a crybaby while also starting to cry as well.
• Just like that one time, both of them started to laugh together while still crying.
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I love them so much :(
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joocomics · 2 days
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ಬ fuck buddies: part two
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part one | part two | part three
pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin
genre: angst wc: 1.8k
contains: friends with benefits trope, jealousy, bickering and miscommunication, toxic relationships, dirty talk, gets a bit smutty in the end
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“a little bird told me that something interesting went down in my kitchen minutes before the party.” yangyang speaks up without feeling the need to look at you as you walk into the room with drinks for the two of you in hands.
upon hearing these words, on the inside, you instantly picture winwin and how you cuss at him; how you punch his chest and tell him to fuck off for thinking it was a good idea to open his mouth about this even after you told him not to. on the outside, you exclaim with the most unbothered surprise you can fake.
“oh? who is it about?”
“try to guess.”
winwin’s face is still present in your mind as your heart clenches from time to time. the truth is, you don’t regret what happened between the two of you - you liked it, a lot. your only goal was to provoke winwin, to tease him, you didn’t expect him to unleash this new unknown by anyone side of his. one minute he was being his usual awkward self, and the next he was completely unpredictable and suddenly you couldn’t help it - you wanted to see more of what he’s capable of.
but on the other hand… you wish you could turn back time and not give in to the temptation so easily, because yangyang is the one who matters to you.
as you put down yangyang’s drink on the nightstand beside him you use the opportunity to take a quick peek at his face. he looks too calm which puts you on edge. you wonder how much exactly do you mean to him? the number of girls he hooks up with is higher than the number of guys you sleep with; you wonder if there’s a possibility of someone taking your place as his new favorite?
you erase the on going messy thoughts in your head and name the first person from your mutual circle that you can think of:
“johnny?”
“no,” yangyang drags out the word with a certain laziness to his tone, and that makes him seem like he’s getting bored of the way you insist on playing this game. “not even close.”
“i give up,” you sit down on the bed next to him and lean back against the cushions. as you wait everything to go downhill from here, you bend knees to your chest to at least feel comfortable in the heated moment.
what exactly are you giving up? hiding what really happened that night before the party, or… yangyang?
the question shoots through your train of thought so quickly you almost miss it.
but can you really ever give up on yangyang? maybe in another life, but you doubt you can do it in this one.
“i told you you’re not allowed to fuck any of my friends.” he speaks up after a pause of silence. “this was the only condition we had.”
“that’s not true,” you disagree, “we also said that we’re never going to act jealous and ask questions about other people we sleep with.” you resist to turn to him which is good, because you wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing that scornful laugh he makes after hearing you out.
“this isn’t jealousy, sweetheart.”
“then why do you care so much that i slept with him?” you ask, and your heart quickens as the seconds without an answer go by. “because it’s winwin?”
yangyang remains silent for a moment just staring in a blank dot on the wall. in comparison to him, you can’t stop staring at the chair placed in the corner to hold a pile of clothes. it makes you wonder how many girls have tossed their skirts and messy underwear there. you hate the idea of this and that’s why you never use that chair.
“you don’t know him like i do!” yangyang’s voice grows stronger. his hair tumbles down as he looks at his lap while the motions of his hand emphasise his frustrations. “you let him fuck you once - good, now he’s practically in love with you, and you’re only gonna make a fool of him, because he’s already obsessed with you and you hate when people obsess over you.”
“oh, please! don’t pretend to care about his feelings.”
somebody craving my love and attention to the point they can’t think of anything else sounds nice right now, you think to yourself.
you know the reason behind yangyang’s anger, and the words are stuck in your throat, threatening to come out any minute now. you wonder if you’re going to succeed in keeping them in. the idea of putting him in his place is tempting.
“i do, because he’s a good loyal guy.” his tone fades down to normal again. “and you… you’re me.”
you gaze into his face. yangyang tilts his head slightly in your direction, because he can clearly feel the cold intensity in your eyes that are suddenly focused on him after avoiding him for so long.
for an unknown reason there’s a spark in his gaze. like he’s proud of what he just said.
“do not compare me to yourself. we’re not the same.”
“c’mon, we’re like two sides of the same coin, y/n.” a lazy smile slowly spreads on his lips. one that doesn’t convey joy, but an annoying confidence. a smile that says: i’m aware of things that you’re not.
“bullshit,” you scoff, looking away.
your heart starts racing, and your mind starts overworking with all the things you want to say to him, but also with the enormous pile of things you still can’t find a way to explain to your own self; how are you going to tell him things you don’t even know the answers to? you discreetly press a hand to your cheek and realise you’re getting hot from your sudden infuriation.
a good loyal guy like winwin, or any good loyal guy, cannot be with a girl like you.
there’s one thing you know for sure though.
“who knows, you might be right, but there are a few things in which we obviously differ from each other.” you quickly put on a mask that hopefully gives you the look of someone that’s not that affected by this conversation. “confidence, for example. you hate the fact i hooked up with winwin only because you’re scared of people finding out that i went to fuck a loser like him instead of you. they’ll start talking and ask questions. is yangyang that bad in bed? why would she suddenly jump on winwin’s dick an—“
“you do have an imagination, i’ll give you that.” yangyang cuts you off.
“i’m over this.” you put an end to the conversation, and you’re just about to jump off the bed when yangyang’s hand pulls you in. “what do you want?” you mumble with a frown.
“kiss me,” he utters.
“i’m not in the mood,” you turn your head dismissively to the other side.
“baby,” he speaks again even more softly; almost in a completely different voice. “listen to me.”
you know it’s not a good idea, but you look back at him and allow him to run his hands along the bare skin of your arms.
“no one can have what we have.”
there were a few times when you’ve told yourself the same exact thing. it sounds so much better when he says it though - more real.
“and you can’t have what you share with me with another person,” he continues as his one hand goes up to cup your cheek. “same thing with me, even if i try i’ll never find in another girl what you keep on giving me.”
yangyang pulls you closer until you lay your head on his chest. his arms wrap around your figure, and you breathe in and out slowly. the sudden embrace loosens you up on the instant and your heart’s banging goes back to normal.
“let’s not complicate things, yeah?” this question makes his warm voice suddenly ring with a demanding colder thrill. it’s suddle, but you’ve known him for so long that you always notice things like that in his behaviour.
after he doesn’t hear a response from you, yangyang forces your chin up so he can look into your eyes and get it himself. you nod as his finger keeps your head up and soon enough his lips press against yours. how do you resist him?
kissing him always helps you to calm your mind, even when he’s the reason for it to be anxious in the first place. however, there’s one little conclusion that you came to; looks like you’re making progress…
yangyang is wrong about you. you are good and you are loyal, just for the wrong person. yet… here you are, deepening the kiss, because you’re not able to fight against your own true feelings.
after you adjust comfortably on his body, his hands begin to roam freely underneath your oversized tee and your familiar skin, warm against his palms, gets him excited. he takes it off so he can trace every inch without restrictions.
“that’s always better,” he utters close to your mouth.
a sharp breath slips from your lips when he swiftly switches the position by laying you on your back. your hands suddenly hang in the air when he locks your wrists together between his fingers.
“i already want to fuck this pussy again,” he says under his breath while sliding his free hand down your stomach. “just the way you want it.”
the thought of him inside you has you feeling a bit dizzy with the way the tip of his finger brushes against your clothed clit. it’s true, he always fulfills your desires the way you want, but you can’t stop your brain from going back to that experience with winwin… he’s the one who showed you that you can have your desires fulfilled in new exciting ways, and the most pleasing part about it is how unpredictable it felt with him; last but not least… how it felt that he performed the way he did because of you. you’re the main cause for his unrestrained self, and it results into him fulfilling your cravings the way you need them to be fulfilled.
you know you’re all that occupied his mind before and after that… and you know you still are, and you like it.
“come in!” yangyang shouts on top of you, but his eyes look at the half-open bedroom door.
you didn’t even hear the doorbell ringing from being completely lost in your own thoughts. your brows furrow questionably for an explanation, but you quickly receive one when winwin’s voice spreads throughout the apartment.
yangyang’s eyes bling with a daring smile while yours stare at him with lack of understanding.
“thought you’d like it if he comes over to hang out with us,” he says continuing to hold your hands together. “you’re friends now after all.”
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! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed
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bibibbon · 2 days
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One thing that makes me laugh about Hori's world building is the question are heroes allowed to kill, since Hori is a coward who can't decide, it disrupts the world building to an absurd degree. If Izuku had aimed to kill Tomura from the start, then Hori's narrative would have rewarded him. Izuku would still have OFA, possibly Ochako as his girlfriend and applauded as a great hero. The standard hero ending. But Izuku tries to save Tomura and fails miserably and is forgotten by his friends and the public. What is Hori trying to tell us? Kill then ask questions later? Based on the story Izuku should have taken Gran Torino's advice, he would be sad in the short term but he would have been happier and forgotten about the LOV.
Hi @agentterios 👋
MHA'S whole narrative messaging around the subject of "are heroes allowed to kill?" Is presented in an incredibly confusing and unsatisfactory manner.
Horikoshi doesn't directly address the question however, he does indirectly address it by introducing a variety of elements to his story surrounding the question itself.
You have things like:
The development of nomu intelligence. By the nomu's developing basic human intelligence this makes it so that the line between being human and a nomu so incredibly slim that if well developed this plot point could of been tied to heteamorphis discrimation with a side of people taking the route of one has to look human and another side pointing out that humans don't have a specific look in mha. There could also be more development with endings point of the only difference between nomu's and humans is that one is a puppet. This would make civilians question societies expectations for what a human is and would the heroes kill them next because they are comfortable with killing nomu's who are almost like them
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Hawks and twice. I have talked about hawks and twice a numerous amount of times but my point still stands hawks could of saved twice instead of killing him. Yes, hawks did try in the beginning of the fight and his mission to semi try and save twice as his intention was to never kill him until dabi intervened and hawks lost it reverting to what the hpsc taught him and taking out the danger infront of him. Now, hawks should of had more introspection on this decision realising that he could of saved twice yet didn't and couldn't because he viewed himself not to be fast or capable enough to stop twice and chose to revert to instincts and the hpsc teachings of killing to dispose of the threat. Hawks could easily link his experiences and give advice to izuku about shigaraki. Hawks also needed more public consequences about killing twice because why the hell is the public more concerned about hawk's villain father then the fact that he killed a man? Was this to show where societies priorities are at? How messed up they are? And if it was why wasn't this brought back up?
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Lady nagant. We needed more of lady nagant in general. The way she was used and created to be a killing machine. The way she only killed those who didn't fit the status quo even izuku's own reaction to her killing needs to be studied. The way izuku didn't have much of a reaction to her killing people but he had a huge reaction to finding out that she specifically killed the previous minister of the hpsc makes me think that hero society has a huge belief thay certain lives are much more important than others and that ranking is never fully explained but it seems like the outcasts of society like twice and the people lady nagant killed aren't important and wouldn't evoke a huge reaction to people because they don't care for them and hero society has infulenced that belief.
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Izuku and shigaraki . This is the biggest element in the story and the most underdeveloped in my opinion. Why does izuku want to save shigaraki? Why does shigaraki only want destruction? Everyone encouraged izuku to kill shigaraki and believed that his death would be the only way to stop everything and in a way they were right. Shigaraki had to die for this to be over and it just seemed so badly done. Izuku gets labeled as a murder but also praised (barely) for his actions. Its so weird, how am I supposed to expect that society is going to rebuild itself to a better version when it ended in the most repetitive and toxic way by killing and upholding the status quo.
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Endeavour and his aggressiveness. Enji has multiple records of flipping attempted murder whether that be him viewing vigilantes and villains as objects to be easily killed like nomu's or the fact that he cannocially has many reports of property damages.
Dabi's fate. My point stands that death would of been mercy for poor dabi. So are there cases when killing should happen or should all villains be forced to live even if it has to be through horrible circumstances like dabi's? At this point it seemed like toga's death was a better ending then dabi's.
In conclusion, mha's status quo was never really broken or rebuilt into a better version and the discussion surrounding the question should heroes kill? Was never properly answered or changed.
The series begins with the answer that Yes! Heroes can kill but they can only kill villains and rejects of society while keeping all of this away from the public eye. However, if it is in the public eye just dehumanise the victim, its not like hero society didn't continually threaten villains with all the graffiti in toga's House or the publics reaction to dabi.
(Ps I do think that izuku was handed the short stick and would of suffered either way. Even with the horrible execution the series make it clear that izuku chose a thorny, hard path but what's worse is that the path doesn't seem to be worth it or hasn't changed anything)
Also izuku's whole arc doesn't depend on him having a love interest and a quirk because he could be a hero without those things it's the execution that sucks
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sinfulpanda16 · 16 hours
Text
Amazing Classmate
Midoriya, Bakugou, Uraraka, Todoroki x foreigner reader
You are an international student in U.A and meet all of Class 1-A. What are their reactions to seeing you for the first time? How do you guys bond together despite the differences in nationalities?
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(n/l) = native language (y/c) = your country
Midoriya
Is fascinated by you
He tries to learn your language by taking notes
When he saw you for the first time, he was starstruck. Your features are so beautiful, and he can't help but to blush a bit when you make eye contact with him. He decides to be a good friend towards you because he didn't want you to feel too different. You two become good friends and when he asks if you can help him learn your native language it made you feel a sense of warmth. You happily agreed, you would tell him 'The Word of the Day' and he would write it down in his notebook.
Izuku waits for you to think of a word. When you finally do you look at him with a smile, "The word of the day is, (random word in your language)."
Midoriya smiles brightly, "Ok! How do you spell that?" he asks getting ready to write in his notebook. You spell it out for him and go on to translate the word in Japanese. You explain to him how you would you use it in a sentence and Midoriya is writing it all down.
It makes you happy that Midoriya is so dedicated to learning your (n/l). He's learned so much from you and is almost able to have a full conversation with you in your mother's tongue. In a way he makes you feel at home.
He does it all because he wants to. He really likes you and where you come from. He likes all of you.
Uraraka
Strives to be more like you
You are so inspirational in her eyes
She walks into the common room and sees you sitting on the couch. She's hasn't been motivated to do much recently and doesn't know why. You have made it clear to all of Class 1-A that you're a safe space and are there for them. Uraraka figures maybe she can talk to you, so she takes a deep breath in and makes her way towards you on the couch.
"Hey (Y/N)" she waves shyly and sits down next to you.
You look from your phone and give her a smile. "Hey what's up?" you ask.
She looks at your eyes and she finds them so beautiful. She can't help but to turn away shyly. "Oh, it's nothing really. I just figured I could use some advice."
You turn off your phone and give her your undivided attention. You allow her to tell you her thoughts and feelings. You listen closely and after she explains everything, she looks at you, "I don't how (Y/N). What should I do?"
You chuckle a bit and begin to answer her question. "Back where I'm from they have a famous saying." Uraraka listens closely. You explain to her a quote your people back at home say a lot. It's something that people tell each other to help them feel better. After you finish explaining you look at her, "It's ok Uraraka. You're human so there's no need to beat yourself up for feeling more tired than usual. I'd recommend going on a walk. That always makes me feel better and productive". You give her a warm smile and say the quote in you language.
She looks at you with her big eyes and then chuckles. "Thanks (Y/N). Thats means a lot. You and your people are really something." she laughs.
You smile, it's true. You're proud of your blood and culture. And Uraraka is also proud of you for that.
Bakugou
Admires you from afar
At first he could've cared less about you, but your just so intriguing
He's sitting in the common room lost in thought and he sees you come out of the elevator. You two make eye contact and you smile brightly. You say, "Hi Bakugou." in your native language. He and all of class 1-A already know the word for Hi in your language because you always say it.
Bakugou just grunts, but that doesn't mean he's not willing to talk with you. You don't mind him and make your way to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat. You been enjoying cold soba ever since Todoroki recommended it to you. He was onto something cuz cold soba hits every time.
Bakugou knew you've been eating a lot of soba cuz of Todoroki and it bothered him. He wasn't sure why, but it did. He calls out for you "Oi! (Y/n)." you look up from what you were doing and look at him. Your eye contact always makes him feel a certain type of way. He can never hold eye contact with you. He looks away and abruptly says the first thing that came to his mind, "Teach me some curse words. You know...in (n/l)."
His request is so random, but you laugh, "Alright".
So that's what you do. You teach him all your favorite curse words in your native language. It makes you laugh because he honestly sounds and looks good cursing in your language.
This helped you two get closer and after you left, he found himself smirking. Just everything about you intrigues him and that includes your culture and language. And you can bet that after that he yells curse words at any extra in your native language.
Shoto
Is respectful to you and your culture
You and him both have your struggles and are always there for each other
You were feeling down and were in your dorm room. You love Japan but just like everyone else who moves countries, you get homesick. You sat at your desk looking at a photo of you and your friends back home. You miss them like hell. Long distance relationships are not easy. You hear a knock at your door and already know its Todoroki cuz of the way he knocks. You call out for him to come in.
He opens your door and walks inside, "Hi (Y/N). Are you busy-" he's caught off guard cuz he can tell something isn't right. He can tell your feeling down.
You raise an eyebrow at him, "Is everything ok?" you ask when he stops speaking mid-sentence.
"I don't know. Is it?" is all Shoto says in his soft voice, and you're taken aback. In all those months Todoroki managed to read you like a book. Honestly, you learned to do the same with him.
You smile softly, "I'm ok Todoroki. I just feel a bit homesick."
He walks towards you, "Oh. You miss (y/c)?" he asks sitting down on your bed. You nod your head and look back at the photo of your friends, "Yeah. I mainly just miss my friends and family. It's been a while since I've seen them in person." you explain.
Todoroki can only imagine what that must feel like. He sometimes misses his family, his mother, even though they're all with him in Japan. He doesn't want you to feel sad, so he suggests doing something to ease your mind.
"(Y/N) me and our friends were going to go to mall together." he reaches to hold your hand, "Please come. I promise it'll make you feel better." he says looking into your eyes.
You smile softly. Although your childhood friends are back in (y/c), that doesn't mean you're all alone here. You have amazing friends like Todoroki and the rest of Class 1-A to be with. You back into his eyes, "Ok. Thanks, Shoto."
He gives you his soft and cute smile, "You're welcome (Y/N)".
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saiintofdiirt · 2 days
Text
Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.
notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here
word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.
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11:49
Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.
[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?
[Parrotx2]: yes
[Parrotx2]: of course
[Parrotx2]: what’s up
[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.
[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want
[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.
[Wifies]: How does noon sound?
[Parrotx2]: perfect
[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.
[Parrotx2]: great!
Great! He sounds like a loser.
So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.
11:54
He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.
I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.
11:55
It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.
11:56
But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.
11:57
And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?
11:58
God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.
[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX
Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.
12:00
He clicks connect.
Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.
There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.
“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”
“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”
So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.
“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”
“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”
“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”
“The— what the fuck?”
Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.
“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”
“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”
Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.
“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”
“Not knowing drives you crazy.”
“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”
“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”
Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.
“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”
Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—
“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”
“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”
“Thank you, Parrot.”
Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.
“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”
“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”
“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”
Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.
“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.
“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”
Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.
“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”
“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”
“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”
Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.
“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”
“Wifies, look at me please.”
Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.
“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”
Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.
“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”
Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.
“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”
That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.
“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”
“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”
“I'm that persuasive?”
“Hardly.”
“Hey, not even a little?”
Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 
“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”
Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.
“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.
“Should I let go?”
“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”
“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”
“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”
Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”
“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”
“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.
“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”
“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”
Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.
“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”
“You just say when,” Parrot replies.
He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.
“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.
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carnelianly · 14 hours
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hi bae i recently followed you and i love every single thing you’ve posted,,, idk if this is a safe space but… like hitting art… him letting you and telling you he loves you and kissing you after
omg this is definitely a safe space babe let’s talk about this!!
hi this is my public service announcement that this is not a healthy relationship dynamic and you not ever put your hands on your partner. that is not okay irl unless there is expressed consent. this is also a very romanticized depiction and theoretically there should be more discussion and communication okay okay, end scene and with that out the way->
the first time you hit art being during an argument. you slap him after he says something a little too provocative, because art’s always been the type to say things to try and get under your skin when he’s mad. like he’s trying to get you to react and be the bad guy, stoop to his level.
but you slap him for saying something just a little bit too out of line, and the whole argument comes to a screeching halt as he stumbles back, holding his cheek in his hand as he looks down at the floor, and then back up at you in fear. he’s petrified.
and you just look baffled with yourself, not even realizing that was something you were capable of. you look down at your hands, like you didn’t know they could do that, and then back up at him.
he gulps. he thinks he’s in for it. but there also a weird feeling he can’t quite place. there’s that rush of adrenaline he got from the hit, and that bubble of shame welling up in his stomach.
he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it kinda felt good to watch you lose your temper, for you to break and fall from that pedestal he puts you on, and to see you for what you are. and you look hot when you’re angry. for a good second there he thought you were gonna kill him, and it was horrifying, sure, but.. god, is he getting hard?
he’s definitely lightheaded, standing there completely still, as if if he didn’t move, you wouldn’t notice that he’s getting turned on from the fact that you just hit him. you slapped him. you hurt him, god it stung so bad, why is he so fucking turned on from it?
“art?” you murmur, not wanting to cross the distance yet, “i… i’m so sorry, i.. can i get closer and take a look?” you sound unsure, tense, like you’re afraid that he’s upset at you. of course you’re worried, but he can’t help that it’s a hit to his heart. you’re worried that you’ve just ruined everything and he’s biting his lip trying to keep in the horniness.
he nods at your question, and you come closer, tentatively reaching out to pet his cheek, “oh.. oh baby, i’m so so sorry, i.. i really didn’t mean to do this. that doesn’t change what i did, but—“
“hey,” he cuts you off, trying to ease your nerves, “i’m not mad at you. we’re okay. you’re okay. it didn’t hurt that bad, just for a second there it stung.” and you sigh, closing your eyes.
art never told you how hard he came jerking off in the shower that night. he couldn’t have asked for sex right then and there, you were so frazzled and distracted and it wasn’t the right time, but thinking about how mad you looked for him going until he came so hard he was seeing stars.
a couple weeks later you’re making out with him on the couch, lips on his, straddling his lap, before he gasps out, “slap me,” his words move past his lips in a daze, he doesn’t even realize he said them until it’s too late.
you pull back, brows furrowed, “…what? uhm.. art, if this is some kinda joke—”
“no, baby, i.. i mean it.. please hit me, like last time. it was so hot..” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your neck delicately, “please, baby.”
and he eventually gets you to oblige, a good amount of begging usually works on you. so you slap him again, and he moans this time, surprising you both, but there’s something so hot about how his face contorts into pleasure when you slap him.
you lean back in to keep making out with him, and your hand brushes his cheek sweetly, as if apologizing, but he doesn’t need that. he needs you to hit him again and again until he gets dizzy.
and this begins the cycle of passionate make out sessions being routinely interrupted with a slap on his cheek or some other form of pain like your nails digging into his skin, carving moons into him.
and every time, without a doubt, he looks up at you with the most pleasure-filled look in his eyes and he mouth hanging open as he smiles slightly, whispering, “i love you,” even as his skin tingles from the aftermath. and when you lean back in to kiss him, gripping his face roughly, especially right over the sensitive skin you slapped, he knows you love him too.
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year2000electronics · 49 minutes
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What is your take on Relativity Falls Fiddleford?
SO. UH. i very much still do not have any sort of concrete, finalized take on relativity falls (there are just so many possibilities to do) but i think fiddleford specifically i always like to highlight in that au when im talking about it because to me he can kinda start one of my favourite conversations, which is "just what are the 'swapping' rules when you make a 'swap au'?" when do you break those rules, if there even is the point of making rules in general, and is there swap aus where you only swap one thing and so everything follows that change in tandem?
and i bring this up specifically because a lot of the time, in relativity falls, fiddleford's role i'd specifically classify as just
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"isnt he a stand-in for candy/grenda when he's the stan twins' friend?" NOT NECESSARILY. because even when they play it the most straight and have fiddleford swap with, like, candy. right. everybody really likes fiddleford! most of the time, relativity falls fans and old mystery trio fans DIRECTLY overlap. so fiddleford isnt just candy or grenda, because he is implied to have so much more screentime/serious moments than candy and grenda do. because we like fiddleford and want to see more of him!
but that begs the question, do you just pretend really hard that fiddleford is just a direct stand-in for candy & grenda, or do you acknowledge that when one cast of characters swaps ages with another cast, and by extension, swaps stories, it's not going to be an exact even split?
and once you get over THAT, you can REALLY start having fun with aus like this. because if youre like "well fiddleford doesnt necessarily have to be a direct parallel to candy and grenda, it doesnt always have to be an exact 'character swap'"! you end up going from this sort of uphill battle of having to do things like making dipper and candy be portal partners to something like, i dont know, PACIFICA filling in fiddleford's role while she also takes on a bit of a lazy susan role! and fiddleford can just be the kid friend of the stans' since YOU CAN JUST DO THAT!
...but if you asked ME, what i would do with fiddleford? well, i would make him the stans' friend, obviously, but i think i would make him the handyman of the mystery shack. ...yes, taking soos' role.
why? well, soos is the best tritagonist for dipper and mabel, usually! he's also someone who tinkers with stuff, just like fidds! it feels like a natural fit for mystery trio-esque shenanigans, no?
but of course, that begs the question "mothra, fiddleford is 12, mabel couldnt legally HIRE him, right??" great point! fiddleford basically begged mabel to let him work there so he could have access to power tools. you wanna know how they cover up the fact that mabel is kinda letting a kid work at the mystery shack?
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yeah. thats what i would do.
so where does that lead soos in "portal incident" story? is he the equivalent to mcgucket? i dont really know. he doesnt necessarily have to be. he could be anything. maybe hes the mayor. i dont know
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