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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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MW2 Reaction to Their S/O Who Self-Harms

Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Self-Harm, Non-Explicit Mentions of Injuries, Mentions of Violence (Not Towards Reader), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

A/N: Hey guys, just letting you know that this post is a bit heavier than my usual ones. This has been requested of me quite a few times, so here it is. I’ve tried to remain as realistic and respectful as possible while bringing you your favourite MW2 people. I’m going to link some mental health resources here for anyone who needs them, and I implore anyone suffering, regardless of whether you self-harm or not, to please, please talk to someone. Nobody deserves to live with the weight of poor mental health, so if you’re able, don’t hesitate to reach out to someone and tell them how you’re feeling ! Friends, family members, pets – anyone who you think will be able to be a good listening partner, even if they’re not a licensed therapist. And if you feel you have no-one to talk to, there are always options ! Local and national mental health services, some of which are free and don’t show up on phone bills ! A lot of the time, simply speaking about what’s hurting you is the first step to mental healing <3. Please stay safe, guys <3

Ghost

Is appalled at himself that he didn’t notice sooner.

He bundles you up into his arms, pulling you as close to him as physics will allow, and then some. His head is buried in your shoulder, his grip around you tight, but he doesn’t hurt you.

“Oh, Sweetheart– I’m so sorry,” you hear him whisper. His voice is thin and high as if the composite of helium, yet a sombre tone weights it.

“I should’ve known how you were feeling – I should’ve been here for you more–”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to console him, or how well you are able to conceal your suffering. Simon will never forgive himself for allowing you to go through this alone.

“It’s no excuse,” he says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. Something wet, warm, hits your shoulder.

Now, distraught as if he’d already lost you, Simon pulls away just so he can see your face. His eyes are glossy and red with tears, his face the mask of anguish.

He takes your head in his hands, holds it at the jaw, and, with angel tenderness, presses a kiss to your crown.

He tucks your head beneath his chin, encases you with his body again.

“I’m never gonna let anything hurt you,” he says, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “Not again.”

And you know he means it.

Due to his own mental health struggles, Simon will use his own logic to try and help you.

He’s never had anyone to rely on – before you, at least – so he makes himself available to you wherever and whenever you need him.

He does everything you ask of him without question, whether that’s making you a bowl of soup or listening to whatever thoughts roll into your head.

He helps you get ready for bed and tucks you in when he can tell it’s been a taxing day, mentally or physically.

And he watches over you, as if to make sure you don’t disappear before his eyes, before going to sleep himself.

There’s nothing he loves more than to hold you, whether you’re upset or not. He just wants to feel your weight and your warmth in his arms, nuzzling you and telling you “I love you. D’you know that ? Very, very much,”

You do know. He tells you every waking moment.

And throughout it all, despite the unfortunate circumstances from which this is derived, Simon is just glad that you want to open up to him, and he’ll never deny you a request or a question, wanting to remain a source of hope and comfort to you for as long as you need him.

König

König’s many dealings with his own occupation have clued him into how severe one’s mental health issues can become. Especially when left unattended.

And, as a result, König has the propensity to become…overbearing.

Of course, he’s mortified that you’ve been suffering in silence this whole time, and while he knows he can’t change the past, or rewrite the stars to ensure this never happens again, he does everything in his power to prevent you from falling into despair.

“It’s okay, Engel,” he says, taking you into his arms and holding you close so you can hear his thundering heart. “You’re safe. You’re alright, you’re alright…”

In the beginning of your shared journey to healing, König tries to do anything and everything for you. Chores, cooking, pillow readjustment – anything he thinks would be a nuisance to you.

However, he ends up completing tasks that you actually find enjoyable, leaving nothing for you to do.

While you appreciate everything he’s doing – very much so ! – you still want some independence, even if it’s minimal. And you told him as much.

König looked like he was on the verge of tears when he apologised: “I just wanted to do what was best for you, Darling,”

You have to console him, tell him that his gallant efforts are not appreciated.

König still keeps an eye on you if he has cause to believe you may be trying to self-harm again, but he won’t smother you.

He’ll wait for you to come to him, trusting that you know yourself and him well enough to understand that there is nothing you can’t tell him.

Even if you relapse, or stumble a little, König always encourages you to get back up.

“That’s why our skin heals,” he says, holding your injured arm in his hand, cleansing you of your pain. “So we can start again.”

He loves taking you out on trips – anywhere he knows you’ll like.

He just wants to see you feel something again. Or at least see a sliver of happiness light up your face, even if just for a second.

Petting zoo, amusement park, shopping trip, spa day – you name it, it’s yours !

At the end of the day, when you’re exhausted and König is carrying you home on his back, your 6’10 military princess is just happy that he gets to spend time with you, your warmth the best he’s ever felt.

And he’ll do whatever he can to keep it. To keep you.

Soap

Initially, he’s in denial. But when he sees how tired you are, how grey your soul has become, his heart tears, and everything he’s ever felt for you comes pouring out.

He takes your hands in his, and, the feeling of tears burning his throat, he buries kisses into the back of them.

“I love you– so, so much,” he says, breathless. “You know that, don’t you ?”

The tone in his voice suggests haste, or perhaps desperation. The need for you to know that you are loved. Very, very dearly.

And when you start to cry, Johnny can’t keep his tears in any longer.

“It’s okay, my Love, it’s okay,” he tells you, voice low and soft.

He pulls you into an embrace from which you gather the impression you will never escape. Not while he’s holding on to you as if you could slip between his fingers at any minute.

“We can get through this. Together,”

His assurance is resolute as the sunrise in the morning, and you know, from the way he holds you, speaks to you, that what he’s saying is true.

“You’re okay. You’re safe now. We’ll be okay…”

Johnny makes a concerted effort to watch over you more from now on.

You still maintain your independence – that’s not an issue.

But if he can sense you’re not feeling too good, he’ll either ask if you want to talk about it or wait for you to come to him.

He trusts you to come to him when you’re ready, just as he trusts you with his heart.

He makes sure to ask what your boundaries are when it comes to talking about mental health, just to be sure that he doesn’t accidentally overstep or trigger you in any way.

The last thing he wants to do is upset you. He’d never forgive himself if he did.

And whenever you come and tell him that you’re feeling a little better today, or you found even just one, tiny thing to celebrate, like finding a cool pebble, he’s overjoyed, overcome with pride for your achievements.

Valeria

She is daughter and heir to her own demons, but none of them compare to the thought of you harming yourself or being harmed.

Her initial reaction is anger, but not towards you.

Never towards you.

She wants to eradicate whoever or whatever has driven you to feel this way.

It will take some explaining that the source of your pain isn’t necessarily easy to vanquish, and even if it is, right now, all you want is comfort.

Valeria doesn’t cry. Not in front of you.

Instead, she pulls you to her chest and cradles you while you tell her all your worries, your problems, your sorrows.

And, when she settles you into bed, she embarks on a journey to rid you of your demons.

If they are caused by something external, it’s gone by the time morning rolls around.

If your habits are a result of something within yourself, Valeria will try to remedy it as best she can.

Hours upon hours of research, tending to you whenever you need her, letting you know she’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you–

“And that’s a Valeria guarantee !”

She never breaks out her humorous side, so you know she means it.

She does have the potential to become a helicopter girlfriend, so you’ll have to speak with her and establish some boundaries if there are some things you wish to do alone.

Valeria will understand, but she does get worried when she doesn’t hear from you every hour, and she has to resist the urge to send one of her men to check on you.

At the end of the day, she trusts you and knows that you are your own person, intelligent enough to make your own choices.

All she wants is to be able to be with you, and so long as you plan on sticking around, she will work to bring you a life that can chase away the shadows in your mind.

Price

Due to Price’s fatherly nature, his immediate reaction is deep concern.

“Oh, Love,” he says, his brow creased as his discovery weighs heavy on his face. In all his years as a military professional, he’s seen many a mortifying scene. But none of them have hurt to witness as much as your suffering.

“Come and tell me about it,” he tells you, bringing you to sit beside him on the sofa. “Tell me everything, and I’ll listen.”

Whether you confide in him or not is entirely up to you; he won’t force you to divulge anything you don't want to. But he does remind you that “We’re a team, you and I. There’s nothing you can’t tell me – that we can’t tell each other.”

And he means it. Truly.

Whenever you stand by the doorway to his study, he drops everything and invites you to sit with him, on him – whatever you want to do.

And he listens to anything and everything you tell him.

Price is an incredibly intuitive, intelligent man, and whatever you tell him, even in passing fancy, you can expect to have it within an hour of you unintentionally requesting it.

Price once bundled you up in a blanket and carried you around the house, calling you “Love Bug”. Sometimes he uses it as a comforting tactic since it keeps you warm and you can be nearer to him whenever you want to be.

He calls you his “Brave little soldier” whenever he’s tending to your scrapes or cuts (intentional or otherwise), telling you how you’re the “Strongest warrior this side of the planet !”

He’s always looking for ways to make you smile.

It doesn’t matter what he has to do to achieve a result; for you, there are no boundaries to his love.

And yes, that includes making duck lips out of Pringles.

Or walrus tusks out of chopsticks.

And whenever you smile, no matter how faint, John knows that, regardless of how bleak things may seem now, everything’s going to be okay.

Horangi

Given how mental health is rarely spoken about in Horangi’s birthplace, even stigmatised, he understands how difficult it can be coming out to someone about your inner struggles.

Initially, he sighs, though not out of frustration or anger.

But rather, understanding.

He knows there’s nothing he can say to make everything alright, but he wants to try and help you in any way he can.

And the first step is thanking you for opening up to him.

“I’m just happy you felt you could talk to me about this, 내꺼.”

He does everything in his power to make your life easier: doing your laundry, keeping your toiletries organised, preparing your meals; anything that’ll put a smile on your face or just make your day more bearable.

He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s trying to sanitise the content you watch, but if he suspects or outright knows that specific topics or content triggers you, he’ll try to steer you away from it and bring you some safer alternatives.

He knows that everyone has different contributors and triggers so he never assumes that one specific thing may be yours; instead, he asks what makes you feel good, what doesn’t, or, if you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll try and use his intuition.

He’ll never force you to give something up, though. But he’ll gently advise against it if he feels it isn’t serving you in your journey to mental healing.

He teaches you how to ground yourself in a way that’s immediate and effective, and, whatever the weather, he’ll take you outside if you ask him to – to feel the rain or the sun or the snow, or to be held by the fog that rolls in over the oceans and mountains.

And he’ll always be there to hold your hand when you want him to, to be your shoulder to hold on to when you can no longer stay standing; your driftwood in the black sea, leading you to the lighthouse on a calm shore.

Alejandro

After priding himself on being the one person in the whole world who knows you the best, he feels his world shatter.

Not because he’s been proven wrong – his ego does not come into this equation – but because he feels as if he could somehow have helped prevent whatever feeling has driven you to self-harm.

Alejandro is a strong man, both physically and emotionally. But seeing you like this, in a ceaseless sea of despair, he crumbles, falls to his knees before you as if you are God itself.

“Mi Amor…why ?” is all he can say. “What has caused you to do this ?”

When you explain to him that, sometimes, it’s not anything external at all, but entirely conjured within your own mind, your own worst enemy, he understands.

Even when he feels he has failed you, he refuses to allow you to come to any more harm, whether from yourself or someone else.

“We– we can get help for you, or– or we can just stay here, go out like we always do, go and see new things–”

Alejandro is the type to throw anything at the wall until it sticks. And by god, he is not stopping until something sticks.

He pays particularly close attention to you now. Not so much as to become a helicopter boyfriend, but enough so that you know he’s there.

He grants you your privacy, believes you are entitled to it as anyone else is, regardless of your condition.

But, if you disappear for half an hour or more, he’ll come to check on you.

He doesn’t want you feeling smothered, but he’s just so terrified of losing you that he’s not sure what to do for the best.

You may have to help him here. Let him know what you want, what you need, so he can do what is right by you.

He apologises for reacting the way he did when you initially told him. “It was…selfish, self-centred. I thought that I could just– destroy whatever was hurting you. But…now, I see that’s not how it works.”

Alejandro doesn’t rest until he knows you’re at maximum comfort and happiness (however much your mind will permit that day), and he will shield you from anything that could cause you to spiral, no matter what.

Rodolfo

For the first time, he’s dead serious. His face goes straight and thin with what you think is consideration.

And he stays that way until he breaks his own silence, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

“Mi Sol,” he says, quiet, as if keeping a secret. And then, you see it. Just a flicker. But a weight bears down on his shoulders – one which wasn’t there before. But it isn’t a burden of weight. Far from it. And you know this when Rodolfo smiles, his eyes becoming glassy.

It’s the weight of love, of his heart taking on your load, halving it.

He holds his arms out to you, pulling you to him.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says. His hold around you tightens. “I know that can’t have been easy,”

From then on, he is at your beck and call – 24/7.

Though, this isn’t a big change given how he already willingly threw himself at any request you made. But now, he uses his intuition more. Taps into verbal or physical cues that let him know you’re not feeling all that good today, and so he’ll take over the chores and tell you to go and sit down.

He makes your favourite meal every night you want it, no matter how unorthodox it is.

Cereal and a plate of sausages ? You got it. Spaghetti with dino nuggies ? It’s already on the table.

The only time Rodolfo will ask you to do anything is when he thinks it’s for your own good – like taking a quick walk with him around the block so you’re out in the sunshine for a bit. Or washing your hair when he can tell it’s getting you down.

He never makes you do anything you don’t want to, though.

Nor does he make you talk when you don’t want to.

He listens whenever you come to him of your own volition. And if he can tell something is really bothering you, he’ll press once for any kind of information. If you don’t want to tell him, he drops it. But he’d rather risk your upset and try to find a solution to whatever’s upsetting you than live to regret it later when it all becomes too much for you.

And whenever you confide in him, he can’t hide how lucky he feels to have someone as special as you; even if you don’t see it right now, Rodolfo knows you’re the most important person in the world, and he won’t stop until you’ve grown into the person you’re destined to be, no matter how long it takes.

And he’s with you every step of the way.

Graves

At first, he was overwhelmed.

Of course, he was hurt that you’d been suffering – and hid it so well, too.

“Darlin’... I’m so sorry – I should’a known or asked or– done– somethin’ !”

To rectify his self-proclaimed self-inattentiveness, he purchases the best therapist money can buy.

“So you can tell ‘em all about your feelings,”

He doesn’t realise how insensitive a gesture can be until it’s too late; it doesn’t even occur to him that you may not want a therapist, but just to speak to someone you know.

Someone like Graves.

And this is something you’ll have to teach him.

But, of course, this will also take time for him to adjust to.

“Well…I– uh…Are ya sure ?”

He cannot wrap his head around the idea that you could ever possibly want to confide in him about something so important, but he’s relieved that you do.

It takes time for him to understand that he doesn't need to have all the answers, or be a trained professional to help you feel better.

He just needs to be there.

To listen, to help whenever you ask for it (or when he can tell you want it).

He makes himself available to you as often as he can, sending others on business trips for him if he knows you’re encountering a particularly rough patch.

Your opening up to him inspires him to open up more, too.

Sometimes, late in the night, you sit together, awake, pouring your wine-darkest thoughts and patchwork memories into a never ending conversation.

Philip wants you to know that he’s always got time for you, so he joins you more frequently in your hobbies, and yours his.

Anything to simply be with you. And also to finish this cool bauble he’s started decorating.

Gaz

Gaz is young; he grew up in a generation that values mental health above all else, so he knows a thing or two about helping people.

However, he never assumes to know anything and everything about your causes, your triggers, your contributors; those he lets you tell to him.

He’s always willing to listen, no matter how early in the morning or late into the evening it is; he lends you his ear whenever you need it.

He tries to take time off work whenever he knows he can so he can be with you. Especially if you’ve encountered a rough patch and have asked him for help.

If you choose to pursue professional mental help, he’ll come with you if you want him to – hold your hand for as long as you want, speak for you if you’re finding that words are escaping you and you want his help.

There’s nothing this guy won’t do for you.

Not that there wasn’t already, but now he does it even quicker.

Brings you a healthy snack whenever he knows you need or want one.

He partakes in new hobbies with you when your usual ones just don’t cut it.

Colouring, crocheting, antique collecting, drawing, writing – he’ll gladly follow you down any path you take.

He brings you things he thinks may help you feel better, if only for a minute.

Whenever you need a change of scenery, he takes you on a “Magical mystery tour !” (bundles you into the car and drives to wherever your hearts take you).

He tries to pick locations he knows are scenic – ones which are calming and not too densely populated.

The days where you want to be around people – humanity – he brings you to the park, lays a blanket down for you and people watches with you the whole day.

At the end of the day, he won’t stop until you’re feeling better, be it by one percent or a hundred; any progress is monumental, in his eyes.

And he congratulates all your little victories with your favourite treats and days out of town – the country, even, when you’re feeling up to it.

He loves you so much, it’s unreal; he just can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life.

And he makes sure to let you know, whether through gestures or just telling you, every single day.

And he hopes that, even if you don’t believe it now, one day you’ll see yourself how he sees you.

The perfect human being.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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pirateprincessjess · 8 months

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Ok pinball! There’s a surprising amount of pinball in my city: any tables you’d recommend as especially fun for new people, and are there any video games that can help me get some practice in? I have fun playing but I’m just so bad. Do you have any favourite personal tables?

Oh I love this question! Get ready for

THE JESSICA GUIDE TO GETTING STARTED WITH PINBALL

For new players there are two great ways to get into pinball. Obviously you can have a friend teach you how to play, but if you don’t have a friendly local pinball we’d then try these methods

Method 1) beginner friendly tables!

I have a few recommended tables. These games are popular so it’s very common to see them in public and they have fairly easy to understand rules.

The games are Attack from Mars, Godzilla (stern), And Medieval Madness

All three of these games have rule sets that are easy to start. If you want to learn pinball then play these games and aim for the biggest thing on the playfield. In Attack From Mars try to hit the flying saucer. In Medieval Madness try to hit the castle gate, and in Godzilla try to shoot the balls through the building.

There is a lot more to each of these games, but playing like this gives you an easy and memorable objective (with a great payoff) that you can aim for while learning how to control the pinball or aim your shots. Once you feel comfortable you can start shooting for the other stuff on the table and learn the rest of the game.

Attack from Mars and Medieval Madness are both available on Pinball FX for a few bucks each if you want to practice at home (change game mode to arcade physics for a more realistic physics experience). Sadly you can’t play Godzilla digitally anywhere because it’s still a new game.

Method 2) Treat it like a puzzle!

Choose any game and treat it like a puzzle. Find a game you want to play. If you see a game based on a movie or band that you like, then go play it.

If a table seems cool then it’s a good table to play. Part of the fun of pinball is exploring a game and seeing what happens as you hit shots on the table. Figuring out which shots give you the most points and the most resources is a ton of fun.

It takes time to learn ball control so when you are starting out find something on the game that looks interesting and aim for that. In most machines you get rewarded for hitting the same shot a few times. See what your reward is and then practice hitting a different shot until you get the reward for that shot. Now think of how you can combine these rewards to give yourself the most points.

For example you might learn that one shot starts a game mode that requires you to make a ton of different shots quickly, and another shot starts a 4 ball multiball! You could then try starting the game mode and the multiball at the same time to maximize your point game.

There are all sorts of strategies like this hidden in pinball machines, and figuring them out is a ton of fun!

Okay, but where do you go to play pinball?

There’s a very cool tool called the Pinside Map, where you can search for games by location. You can look for specific games (like the ones listed above), or just find locations near you that have any games at all!

How do I meet other pinball people?

Go to tournaments. I know it sounds intimidating, but most tournaments are casual. The first time I went to a tournament I met a ton of people who were excited to show me their favorite games, and teach me their favorite tricks and tips. 90% of pinball tournaments are just an excuse to hang out with other pinball players.

Also, people don’t mind playing against new players because your lack of experience has no negative impact on their games, so there is no pressure.

If you are a woman, then check out your local chapter of Bells and Chimes. B&C is a women’s pinball organization. (For trans people: Most Bells and Chimes chapters are extremely trans friendly, but each group is locally run so it might be worthwhile to reach out to the group if you are worried).

What if you want to play pinball digitally?

Virtual pinball rules. The most popular virtual pinball software is PinballFX. The game is technically free but they do charge for every pinball table you get after the free one. Pinball FX has some digital recreations of real pinball machines as well as some completely original pinball machines that they made exclusively for Pinball FX. PinballFX is great but the physics are not very realistic, and it makes the game easier than it is in real life. They have an alternative physics option called arcade physics but it’s only available on some tables.

Another good option is Visual Pinball X (VPX). VPX is a pain in the but to setup, but it has the most realistic pinball physics I’ve ever seen. You can also setup almost any pinball table for free (newer pinball machines aren’t usually available though). The only problem with VPX is that it doesn’t come in a nice easy package and you have to setup every table individually, so it requires some real computer knowledge.

Closing thoughts

There’s not really a wrong way to get into pinball. The most important thing is to have fun, and to be patient with yourself while you learn how to play! Drop me an ask If my guide helps you get into pinball, and tell em about your experience with the game!

#ask pirateprincessjess #pirateprincessjess #pinball

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dailymothanon · 6 months

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A sketch of Gov in the new episode 🐶! I always kinda imagined Gov to look pretty much how he is portrayed in the episodes tbh so I never bother to make him that much of a separate design 🤔 BUT also this is an excuse to educate y'all on federal land. It will be under the cut for those who wanna learn.

What does Federal Land mean for a state?

Well, this is something I think a lot of folks in here (the fandom) needs to know, because I just see people jump to conclude Gov is horrible towards Nevada. That is not the case.

This is just the basics, but federal land literally just conserves, manages, and protects natural resources and wildlife. For example, national parks are federal lands. You'd notice this because of how western states tend to have more wildlife than the east. And how federal land is mostly administered by agencies such as the BLM, FWS, NPS, and USFS, which all are catered towards handling wildlife and resources.

Federal land also tends to consist of land that states cannot easily manage or utilize, which for Nevada it's pretty easy to notice, as most of Nevada is semi-arid and desert, meanwhile land more available to use, like by rivers and other water sources are not usually federal land.

Historically, up until 1976, you could easily just claim a homestead of hundreds of acres! The Federal Government just ended up taking what nobody else really wanted because they couldn't live there anyways. It's why Nevada has so much Fed Land, and now that land is managed by agencies; and in Nevada's case, most of it is under the Bureau of Land Management. This is why Nevada's population only resides in no more than 20% of the land. Because they bought it as they could use it and live in it, even then they don't use much of the full 20% that is accessible to them.

And it's not as if federal land is completely off-hands, people hunt, hike, camp and fish in federal land all the time! Take Alaska for example, who's 60%+ federal land, in terms of Alaska's size that's a LOT of land, yet Alaska is one of or the best state when it comes to fishing and hunting either way, and Alaska's natural beauty remains largely untouched and unbothered (at least directly).

There is also the fact that if a crime is committed on federal land, it instantly becomes punishable to a higher degree than it would on state grounds, as it becomes of federal interest.

So no, Nevada being 80% federal land isn't bad for him. It's just Gov taking up and protecting what Nevada can't really utilize or manage easily.

#anyways I hope some of yall do something with this knowledge because some of yall really need it #wttt #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt fanart #wttt fan art #wttt headcanons #wttsh #wttsh fanart #wttt nevada #wttt gov #wttsh gov #wttsh nevada #wttt alaska #wttsh alaska #wttt facts #wttt dc #wttsh dc

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theblackfemininesociety · 24 days

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Reflect & Transition: Fall Edition

✨ The intense Self Love Affair Season ✨

Hello September 🤎

Welcome besties and future besties of BFS,

The intertwining of seasons and femininity is truly captivating. The way they mirror each other is both striking and motivating.

As we usher in the fall season, we believe as your accountability partners, it's essential to reflect on all that has happen so far & what you need to change in order to set you up for success during this time!

We have 4 months left of 2024.

17 Weeks — 122 Days

Reflect

What steps have you taking in your femininity/level up/ womanhood journey?

What have you discovered that is effective for you, and what insights have you gained that were not beneficial?

Be honest: What have you freed yourself from? What challenges do you face? Are they self-inflicted?

Plan

Plan for what’s next!

What does the woman you have become require now?

What do you wish for the woman you are transforming into?

Now that you know your challenges, what are the steps you will take to overcome them? Identifying your obstacles is the first step, but devising a plan to address them is crucial.

Every challenge is an opportunity for growth. What strategies will you implement to ensure your success moving forward?

Transition

Now you have more knowledge and experience on what worked and what didn’t, what is needed and what can be improved. You can confidently make decisions that align with your goals and aspirations.

Each step you've taken has brought you closer to understanding the nuances of your journey.

Embrace this insight as you move forward, creating strategies that leverage your strengths while addressing any weaknesses.

Trust yourself and the path you are carving out, as it is uniquely yours.

Execute

This is your life, baby! Whatever you want is yours for the taking as long as you do the work! It's time to execute.

Get up, set your goals, and smash through the barriers that stand in your way.

No more excuses, no more waiting for the perfect moment.

Focus on your vision, hustle hard, and embrace the challenges that come your way. Here at BFS we take a hold of our own destiny! push through the tough times, and let your passion fuel your journey.

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#black women in femininity #black women in luxury #feminine energy #classy black women #black luxury #femininity #self discovery #self development #self discipline #self worth #fall moodboard #motivational #elevation #high maintenance #high value woman #girl boss #healed black woman #healed femininity

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11queensupreme11 · 8 months

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Another bit from Sally=Loki that might have to get the chop but I thought was too funny to not delete. Can you guess who Percy had just met? (It's Apollo, also to answer your earlier question Percy sounds more educated because 1) Loki is very educated and children learn to speak by mimicing parents so compared to Sally who is a high school dropout, nothing wrong with that, just Loki just has a broader vocabulary 2) Loki would accept nothing less then a fantastic education for his child so Percy does go to a good school and has Loki being very supportive at home, 3) Loki has a lot of run ins with the authorities and taught Percy specific phrases. After all mortal doctors could notice something was up with her if they looked so Percy was trained to deny care, if you asked her about some other topic she would not sound that good)

“Why have you returned?” Poseidon demanded “And where is your minder?”

Percy shrugged and replied, “Ares was trying to show me some statues and murals when a strange naked man appeared and started touching Ares all over the place and tried to chase me.”

Her uncle Zeus made a strange noise like a squeaky toy, he should probably see a doctor about that she thought. “Mom and my teachers and the school resource officers all said if I see a person not wearing all their clothes or exposing their privates I’m supposed to run away and find a trusted adult. Ares didn’t seem super available, and you were closest, and it is your day, but I guess I can go back to my grandpa’s house if you’re busy.”

For a moment everything was silent and then Uncle Hades suddenly lunged forward tackling her father who had started to rise back into his seat. “Oh my, that must have been very scary for you” replied her Uncle Hades voice rough and teeth gritted with exertion. Vaguely she could hear her father start to say something only to be quickly cut off by a hissed “Language!” from said Uncle.

Uncle Zeus laughed like someone who knew they were about to fail to negotiate their way out of being kneecapped by the mob and blabbered out, “You didn’t interrupt anything important, no siree, we were just finishing up, now if you will excuse me I just remembered I haven’t seen my children in an bit and must check in on them” all while he fled the room, carefully keeping the table between him and her father. Percy wondered why all the adults on this side of the family constantly acted like they were raised by baboons. With a sigh she turned back to her remaining “adults” and said “Public indecency is illegal, as is exposing yourself to a minor. I believe this is where you are supposed to call the authorities.”

Percy was very proud of herself for remembering all of that from the stranger danger talk at school (mom would have probably castrated the man rather than call the cops but as Percy had recently learned mom also had a history with the law here so she probably had to rely on her own conflict resolution skills… which would explain a lot actually. As the old man who ran the bodega had said, a criminal who calls the cops is a dead criminal). Admittedly she did not ever expect to need to need it as any adult who worked with children with any frequency at all seemed aware of this particular procedure, however she supposed she could give daddy a pass since he was one, very new to this and two, she was starting to doubt he or his siblings had been raised by sentient life at all. So, some ignorance was probably unavoidable on his part, she just hoped the rapid reddening of his face was not due to anger directed at her over being told what to do. Maybe he was embarrassed that he didn’t know already? Mom always said there was nothing embarrassing about learning. However, last time she corrected a boy in her class he cried, she hoped this was not another Joey Klingler situation because she really didn’t think she would be able to get daddy to stop yelling by distracting him by triple-dog-daring him to eat a fistful of sand.

i love how no matter the universe, percy's first interaction with ror!apollo always has to do with him being naked 💀

BUT I LOVE THIS!!! I hope you don't end up deleting it cuz it is a funny scene but if you do... i will treasure this post forever 😔😔😔

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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pokemonshelterstories · 8 months

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So, idk how much you know about fossil ‘mon, but I’m running out of resources and thought I’d shoot my shot.

For a very long time, there was an Aurorus in my pretty small town that’s been here as long as anyone can remember, nobody knows where she came from. She’s never been properly “owned” by anyone, but she’s very human friendly and just generally chill (excuse the pun).

She must have bred with a wild ditto or something, because a couple years back we started noticing some Amaura who would hang around her. They’re more timid, but she taught them to trust humans to a certain extent and eventually they’d accept pets and the occasional treat (very occasional, we don’t just go feeding crap to every wild mon we meet here).

The problem came within the last few months- the Aurorus passed, likely due to old age, no real cause could be determined. The Amaura are still pretty young, and not nearly as used to or equipped to surviving in the wild as their mother. They seem to be seeking out humans a lot more and none of us have caught them yet, because while we love them we don’t really know what to do. On one hand, we don’t want them to become entirely dependent on humans but stay wild, because we all know how those stories go, but on the other hand can we as a pretty small town in the middle of nowhere Unova really manage these 6 young Amaura, especially with so little publicly available resources about fossil Pokémon, let alone fossil Pokémon raised in the wild?

I’d appreciate any insight you have on this situation.

well...i hate to have to say this, but by giving them treats and petting them, you have taught them to approach humans. amaura clearly aren't equipped to survive in modern unova. it's not the environment they evolved for. so getting easy food and positive interactions- especially at a young age- will just lead them to lose their fear of humans. and a wild, untrained pokemon that doesn't fear humans is dangerous.

the best thing to do is call the rangers and let them assess whether these pokemon can be relocated to a proper wild environment or are unreleasable. that might be hard to hear, but it's the only way to guarantee the safety of both the people and the pokemon in this scenario.

#charlietalks #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #wild pokemon rehab #amaura

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queerstake · 7 months

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As a queer drawn to the faith and trying to deal with the messiness of entering into everything, I've been trying hard to read more of the Book of Mormon because I only have a very vague understanding of it's Whole Deal, but executive dysfunction, ADHD, and honestly, a million other excuses are making it very difficult. Are there any good resources for walking through the fundamentals? Childish but I feel like I'm disappointing the Lord if I'm not more on top of this.

Hi anon! I totally get it and yes, I can think of a few ideas!

If you're looking for ways to understand the BoM (or even just general doctrine) from more of a bird's eye view:

I hope you don't find this silly, but when I was a kid, the church published an illustrated children's version of the BoM that's obviously way quicker to flip through. It might be harder for you to find those exact editions I read as a kid if you don't have ready access to a church library, BUT I found this!! It's (almost) the ENTIRE BoM illustrated and summarized and it's online!

Looks like they put out videos too that summarize the BoM beginning to end. Here's a link to the video series. I haven't seen these, so I can't vouch for them, but they might be helpful! Similarly, there's a BoM in 60 seconds video you might find helpful.

If you'd benefit from a schedule, the church is currently studying the BoM in sunday school! The past few years, we've been using a study guide called Come Follow Me with weekly assigned reading chapters. I've actually been working on posts about CFM as they relate to queer mormon theology, but I haven't had much posted yet since I've been having a rocky start to 2024. As things improve, I'll be able to hopefully even establish a schedule on this blog!

I'm not sure if missionary lessons is something you're interested in at this point, and it's definitely not something you ever need to do, but the missionary lessons themselves are a pretty good doctrine intro if you're looking for just Mormonism 101 in a digestible way. The missionaries teach out a book called Preach My Gospel, which is available right here. You'll be interested in the lessons, which are found in Chapter 3. If you just scroll down, you'll see some of the links are labeled Lesson instead of Chapter--just click on those bad boys. And if you have any doctrinal questions, I'm always MORE than happy to talk about the church! You'll probably get a faster answer DMing me personally at @logans-mormon-blog, but I'll always answer asks here as soon as time permits.

If you're looking for easier ways to finish the BoM from beginning to end:

The BoM on tape. The church has an audiobook version available on the Gospel Library app and other audio apps like Spotify.

The Reader's Edition. If you can get your hand on a reader's edition, a lot of people find this is an easier way to plow through the BoM. What's special about this one is that it's formatted not like scripture but like prose, and it really does change the reading experience!

I don't know if this helps any, but I struggle with some of the same issues as you and I'm always bitterly disappointed when I'm not able to move mountains. If I had my way, I'd be the most well-read scriptorian of all time and this blog would be updated constantly. But life often doesn't shake out that way. I spend way more time than I want to with my brain entirely burned out of my head. So you're not alone, if that's any comfort. I think God gets it--he made our brains, after all, and knows how hard it is to wrestle with. It's easier said than done, but don't beat yourself up. God loves the both of us and he's the most perfectly patient person who's ever lived. He's not frustrated or disappointed with our efforts. Religion exists, in my opinion, to help improve and enrich our lives, not make them more challenging OR even to make them perfect if we only could just run fast enough. I too wish I could be more diligent and on it, but shit happens, right? And we're not on earth to be perfect, we're here to be happy and to learn. When Joseph Smith was translating the BoM, God told him "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end." D&C 10:4. We're doing our damndest, and that's all God even wants from us.

If anyone else has more resource ideas, please let us know!

-Logan

#queerstake #tumblrstake #lds #mormon

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shuttershocky · 2 months

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I know you're not going to play Generations or Gen Ult., but I hope they bring back two features from that game in Wilds.

First one being the style system. It's the perfect excuse to keep the silkbind arts you like in Rise because the hunter arts that were part of this feature are what the silkbind arts were based on. But the more exciting part about this feature was you could choose to sacrifice certain parts of your moveset to completely alter how a weapon played.

Generations had 4 styles to start with.

Guild was your standard Monster Hunter moveset, no bells and whistles.

Then you had Aerial style, which changed your dodge into a tiny little forward hop... which if you hopped onto a monster would launch you into the air, giving you extra offensive options while airborne and made mounting a whole lot easier.

Then there was Adept style, which gave every weapon perfect dodge, and if you could block, the ability to parry, and successfully doing either had counter options. I think some moves even gained guard points that allowed you parry an attack with another attack.

Striker was all about spamming Hunter arts, you had more of them, they hit harder and charged faster (each one had their own cd, instead of sharing the same resource like in Rise).

Generations Ultimate added two more that really shook up how you played though.

Valor style was all about aggression. You started with a small move pool, a valor gauge filled by dealing damage, and a valor sheathe mechanic, where you could hold the sheath button for a slow sheathe that, if you were hit during it, reduced the damage, by half and turned it into red hp and filled the valor gauge. Once the gauge is full, you regained all your missing moves, and some of them even got powered up, and you'd stay in this state as long as you kept attacking and avoiding damage outside of valor sheathing. You had to know both your weapon and your opponent to keep this one at maximum efficiency.

And then there's the weird one, Alchemy Style. This one also sacrificed a lot of moves, but it gave you a whole new "item crafting" system to play with, which gave bonus effects to the entire party and boosted the effects of everyone's hunter arts. People thought kinda overlapped with hunting horn so it wasn't used often, but it was funny because part of the style was finding time to stop fighting and craft items using what is basically a giant beer keg. It did create a wide variety of actually good items that weren't available otherwise.

The other feature Generations had was the Prowler mode. it allowed you to play as your cat. This had it's own hp system, inventory mechanics, weapon quirks, and movement options. It was basically a 15th weapon in a sense.

P-Parry an attack with another attack? You mean like Dante?

...Alright. Alright. FINE I will try to find a copy of Generations Ultimate even if I have to play alone. I don't really get enough value out of my Switch anyway.

Honestly my MonHun friend who's played since 2 told me Generations sucked and to not bother with it which is why I haven't given it a look despite GU still being accessible, but thinking back on it they don't really like complex movesets and they were bewildered by Sunbreak having switch scrolls while I was having the time of my life with a doubled moveset + Redirection, so GU having 14 weapons with 6 styles sounds right up my alley.

#I see Instablock came from Adept Lance and Sacred Sheathe from Valor Longsword

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luckyshotwrites · 5 months

Text

Ch. 102 // How Do You Feel? // Day 78

Contents (Warnings): Sum up what's left (Angst, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 2,000+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: definitely not Mariah Carey's all I want for Christmas is you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

(Dec. 20th, Tuesday)

Lynette

It had been nearly two weeks since the incident.

After we were collected, given immediate care, exchanged our testimonies, and debriefed, we were allowed to go home.

Most of it was mashed together in my mind. I figured it was due to how fast everything happened. Working at the pizzeria is a testimony to that statement.

I knew there were mass casualties—most of the people in the basement were recovered, and Andras, along with Victoria, were in custody, most likely going to be put to death.

I didn't know the extent of the C.P.P.A.'s legal system and wanted to avoid asking Wicks. Despite claiming he was okay, I knew he wasn't.

Lately, he was antsy. He'd check on me every hour, and each time he did, he'd offer me sweets—far more than usual. His excuse was that he had to dispose of the ever-increasing keep-away-from-Lentils stash.

And before I left today, he made me promise three things.

"One, you won't go out with anyone, monster or not, unless Charletta, Mom, Dad, or I go with you."

It felt fair for now. I hadn't made any human friends.

"Two, IF anyone bothers you after you tell them to leave or you feel uneasy about them in any way. Use your knife."

I received it after finishing my training last week. I currently had it strapped to my belt, concealed behind my jacket at my back.

I was afraid to admit that even thinking about seriously stabbing someone scared me.

It'll get more manageable if I keep training with Garter. I assured myself.

"Three, if you get in a coworker-related trouble again at any point, you're quitting."

It was the only compromise I'd give him. It wasn't their fault. Neither Claudia nor Drake expected that to happen. I convinced him to agree, but I wasn't sure if I'd go back or not.

"Here's your pretzel," my sister said. She unconsciously hummed the current Christmas song on the speakers: ' All I want for Christmas is no copyright infringements.'

We were at the mall together, getting last-minute Christmas gifts for the family. All we had to do was wait for Wenna to arrive.

I still think dragging me along with them is a bad idea. I thought.

After what happened, Drake wasn't permitted to be around me for the next month. Because of the extreme stress of being constantly deprived of energy and drinking my blood back to back to back, he got addicted.

From what I understood, if a vampire was under pressure and continued to drink from the same person, their body deemed no other "resources" available, so it'd become possessive and protective over that "resource." That'd also mean they'd exclusively crave that being's blood.

So, Drake would be drinking animal blood for the next month to 'reset his palette.' This apparently happened to him with Elise, Viola's partner as well.

Wenna assured me she'd stay at Viola's house after she left the mall, so Drake wouldn't have exposure to my scent either.

It made giving him a birthday gift a little more complicated. I said in my head as I took a bite of the pretzel while we walked. Charletta happily tore into hers beside me.

We had yet to walk into any festively decorated storefronts, but seeing them made my smile come alive. Not that I hadn't been to the mall in a while—Wicks and I'd come here at least once a month since the rock climbing place we visited every week was next door.

The adorning wreaths and garlands in cahoots with the cinnamon and pine scents delighted me. I loved buying gifts for people, and this was the holiday with the biggest and best excuse to spend my money on it. I hadn't had a reason to use much of the money I'd made at the pizzeria.

This realization brought me back to what I should do. If I stayed, I planned on going back after Christmas.

After I finished my pretzel, I threw away the napkin, and Charletta tugged my arm.

"Hey, we should sit at those chairs you like." She slipped her phone back into her pocket.

Before she continued to drag me, we waited for the excited kids to run by to see Santa at the huge, well decorated, Christmas tree.

"I remember when you and Madre had to put up with me pulling Wicks to Santa." I chuckled as I plopped onto the chair, feeling the motionless massagers underneath me awaiting my money. I also noted the other person using one behind mine.

Charletta fell back on the one next to me and laughed, too: "That first time he was put on his lap. He was bawling and begging for Mom to get him."

I whimpered, "I still feel so bad. I thought you guys knew who Santa was!" I put a dollar into her chair and mine.

"We had a monster similar to Krampus back on Yexodele, but no Santa." She said with a shake of her head.

A monster similar to KRAMPUS? I would have asked further, if the other part of what she said didn't get my attention too. "On Yexodele?"

"We lived there before we came here." Charletta closed her eyes and relaxed back. "We should get a massage at one of the shops with Wenna."

"Then why did you..." It had been so long since it was mentioned to me, but I remembered what Drake said.

"I never saw it, though, Yexodele. I was born on Earth." [...] "There was a big war that broke out between the strongest nations, and now nearly all of it is uninhabitable."

"Oh, right." I sheepishly replied.

Despite Charletta's smile, her face contained freckles of concern. She asked, "have you been told about it?"

"Yeah, Drake told me some things about the war."

"It was crazy. I was thirteen when we came here." She bustled with laughter and waved her hand around, seemingly to avoid the topic. "You know how hard it was not to use any of my tricks in front of people and to be around people that looked like me."

I didn't press her. "I think it's similar to how I feel knowing about everything now." It was disorienting to see some people at the mall, knowing one could be a giant monster living here peacefully or, like Andras, not so much.

I followed her lead and shut my eyes, too. Beneath my eyelids, the images of what has happened so far, the good and the bad, fluttered about. It's been, what, a little over four months?

"Speaking of things you can't always see," Charletta nudged my arm with her elbow. "What's on your mind?"

I flinched as the massage chair got to my neck. I pulled away from it for a moment and sighed.

"What should I do?"

"About?"

"You know…" How could I explain it?

Charletta turned her attention to mean, leaning up in her chair. "What do you feel you should do?"

I shrugged and played with one of my curls. "I don't know. Claudia's nice, and Zilla's not bad. As long as she's not using me in some hair-brain scheme, she's fine. Lev is Lev, Drake... I don't blame him for what happened." It was all Andras. He abused us both and manipulated Drake. I'd attempt to treat him the same; even with the incident at the festival, he was the only one who acted friendly and genuine to me.

"And Alexander," my thoughts sank. There had been so many things dwelling under the surface of my mind. Yet Alexander's face stuck out the most. I had never seen him like that. He was always annoyed, unbothered, or hungry, never terrified.

"I-I never had someone look at me like that before." I kept vividly hearing his raspy, hard breathing and seeing his body shake and stammer in retreat. "He looked afraid of me when he's the scary opposing one-" I don't understand how Andras could derive satisfaction from it. It made me feel sick and overwhelmed with the need to chase him. I wanted to know why he ran away from me and refused to accept what I said.

"From what Wicks told me, things went down, and Alexander had other complicated feelings at the time," Charletta said calmly.

I didn't know Wicks talked to you about it. "That's why I was trying to get it through to him. He went back to help Wicks!"

"Knowing you, of course, you did," Charletta said as she paid the chairs for us this time when they ran out. "You shouldn't fret too much about that big softie. He'll be fine."

I did a double take and choked on my spit. I coughed, "wha-" I continued the fit for a little longer. "He's not a softie!"

Charletta pursed her lips together to hold back her giggles, then popped them when she got a handle over herself, "I did my own investigation during Thanksgiving because Wicks wouldn't stop complaining about him."

"Huh?" That's right. She sparred with Alexander during the party. "that's why you fought him?""

She tilted her head, "duh." She rested her hands behind her head momentarily before she realized the robotic massage went up to it. "I wanted to know if he was as stupid and rude as Wicks described. "

He's blunt and abrasive. I didn't know whether I'd call him dumb or not. Just not as receptive?

"I think he's pretty simple," she scoffed. "He's definitely quick with magic and a lot more trusting than I imagined." Charletta rested her head back, "even after I threatened him."

"Threatened?"

She brushed her wavy brown locks from her face. "What? You think I'm not a little peeved that he might not treat my little sister respectfully?" She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "It worked out well."

"I guess."

"Do you think otherwise"

"I wouldn't fight someone for that reason," I muttered quietly.

Charletta flicked her hand from mine and pushed my chin up, "And there's your answer."

I didn't move from the position she put me in, "not to fight people?" I could have told you that.

Charletta tipped her finger off my chin. "You decide what you do." She put her hands flat over her chest. "I can say what I think is best, same as I'm sure everyone else has or can for you, but we aren't you."

She pointed at me. "You're going through everything, Lyn. You know what you can handle and what you can take. And if you don't know yet, you'll learn."

She's right. I was afraid to make this decision alone—why did I keep fighting with Wicks then? I don't want to give up, do I?

"It's your decision, not theirs," she said, teasingly poking me. "I know it can be tough, especially with Mom and Wicks always coddling you."

My smile wavered. I let my head fall, staring at my knees, going over the side grooves in my jeans with my fingers, "What if I fail again?"

"You don't fail if you try. You fail when you give up and stop trying entirely. If you leave or stay now and leave later, that doesn't mean utter defeat. You tried, and you can work elsewhere if it doesn't work out there." She leaned closer; our chair timers were up. "Like, does it make you a failure at rock climbing if you can't do a wall?"

I shook my head. "No. I'd do a different one until I get good enough to do the one I couldn't."

"Exactly, or you might never go back to that wall again. It might not be your style, fit your groove, or it'll change. So, you aren't a failure unless you stop entirely and deem yourself one."

I puckered and relaxed my lips, still brushing the seams of my pants, while in thought. I do plan on working more after the year. I want to get better at art so I can make silly animations.

My hands rested on my thighs. And if I do quit, I will still do what I can to make that dream a reality. I'll work anywhere else and keep saving.

I looked up at her. "Thank you."

"We're always here for you, Lyn. We'll support you no matter what," she popped up from her chair and offered me an arm up, too. "just don't drive us too crazy, okay? Unless you want Madre and Wicks to seal you away like a Rapunzel forever."

Wicks is already doing that, I thought as I took her offer. "I'd also like to make another thing clear." She brought me close and sharpened her gaze. "When you ask yourself what you want, don't think of the money as a way to pay us back."

"But,"

"We're here for each other. If things didn't work out between Ulysses and me, you all would be there, showering me with everything under the sun. It's no different from us to you, no matter what your brain tells you. Got it?"

"O-okay"

"Good." Charletta glanced at the chairs back to back with ours. "Are you going to hide there all day or give us hugs?"

"Sorry!" Wenna popped up from the chair.

My cheeks were red with embarrassment. People passed us during this conversation, sure, though none were listening. Knowing Wenna was there the whole time, my cheeks were hot.

"I didn't want to ruin your sisterly moment." Wenna came around the chairs to us.

"You're allowed to join them being our sister and all too."

Wenna squealed and grabbed me first in the hug, then Charletta. "Yeah, I am!" Because of Wenna's height to me, we were nearly cheek-to-cheek.

I glanced up at Charletta as she squeezed us back.

My mind was still wrecked, trembling when I thought of what had happened so far, but for some reason, whether it be my stupid determination or the feeling of wanting to prove myself, I wasn't keen on making a decision until after the holidays.

…

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below ↓ ↓ ↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#widfali #vore story #v/ore #v.0re #soft vore #vore writing #v.ore #v/0re #nonsexual vore story #nonsexual vore

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etahrearchives · 4 months

Text

Warverse TGG Food Headcanons

Pt 1: Angels

Sherbet

While he is fond of all frozen treats, he mainly eats the "plainer" ones at a regular basis (ex. shaved ice, fruit popsicles, and other watered down frozen treats)

Do not feed him ice cream or any really sweet frozen dessert. He will be in a sugar rush for 1 day at least and 7 days at most depending on the type

Ice cream in particular so far yields the longest result

Frozen yoghurt is a strange exception to this. Feed it to Sherbet and it'll act as a temporary power boost

Sherbet carries a few sealed cups of these during battle as emergency rations or last resort escape power ups

He doesn't make a habit of snacking on it after the war started since it's a rare produce

(If there was a game where Sherbet is in the team, there should be a frozen yoghurt as a healing item that heals him more than the other members)

Any and all frozen treats in the White Kingdom are exclusively made/authorized to be made by him, so even if the resources are there, it still takes quite a while for them to be available

Somewhere in the castle, there's one big room that serves as a freezer storage for all the frozen treats he makes

And maybe a section is there for some meat and vegetables as well, he's a flexible guy

Some angels are permitted entry, but only if they're the ones counting and restocking supply

It serves as a job for the angels that aren't capable of fighting for whatever reason

Rigatona (I realized that hers got a bit too long, so she will have a part 2 on her own separate post)

Pasta is a staple for the White Kingdom in the war, as not only is it easy to mass-produce, the dishes related to it are fairly simple while still being delicious and nutritious

Which is why Rigatona becomes an angry italian when anyone messes the recipes up

She's willing to turn a blind eye to anyone who do this in the warfield because resources are scarce and drastic times call for drastic measures

But if she catches you committing sins towards the spaghetti, you'll be half deaf for the next week and will wish you're fully deaf

While she may not look like it, Rigatona is the type of person who puts great importance in overall morale, and one of the best (if not only ways) are in food

Even in war, food are meant to revitalize and a warm meal for a collective dinner is a moment of respite, especially for those who are sick of war

It shows a lot in her cooking, anyone who had it can confirm her pasta is top tier, the best of the best

Before any meal, if Rigatona is present in the dining hall, she would lead prayers, thanking Etihw for her blessings and the chance to eat together

"May this meal gives us the courage and strength to fight another day"

In a way, these dining periods are a religious practice on its own

Part of this is why she despises Cranber, who eats as an act of violence instead of healing, using it to incite fear rather than relieve it

Ciel

If Cranber is in the end of "Will eat anything" picky spectrum, Ciel is her polar opposite

Not because she's extremely picky, but because she's vegan

Even when resources are hard to come by in the war, she still somehow succeeds in her efforts to have a vegan meal every day

And because of the aforementioned fact, Ciel also made it a habit to fast regularly

Remember how Sherbet mainly makes the "plainer" frozen treats? Yeah, part of it is also to keep Ciel from starving should her sources run out

This behavior is also one which Rigatona uses as an example for other soldiers, especially for those complaining about the food (and possibly a newcomer)

"Ciel eats only ONE tofu a day and can still kick your ass, what's your excuse??"

(If there's a game with Ciel in the team, the benefiting effects on a healing item is reduced depending on how vegan they are)

(Example of this is if it's jerky, it is 25% effective, cheesecake is 50% effective, raw meat actually damages her instead)

(Yes, this means prosciutto instakills her, and she can't be revived until the battle is over)

If peace was established earlier, it became a running joke for the six generals that Ciel would not survive a day in the Black Nation, as vegan options there are nonexistent

Which makes her appreciate Lost's apple pie more

Her diet after the war would be much healthier, especially considering things are healing and options are expanding

She would gravitate towards fruits a lot more and would start to develop amazing fruit food and drink recipes

#tgg hcs #rigatona #rigatona (the gray garden)#ciel (the gray garden)#sherbet (the gray garden)#the gray garden #deep sea prisoner #okegom

8 notes · View notes

nonobadcat · 2 years

Note

I’m not sure if this is a good idea, but AFO as a college professor. Imagine this: reader is a senior the top of her class, but she is really stressed and tired from all the pressure from her peers as well as her boyfriend cheating on her, and so when AFO finds reader sobbing her eyes out near the dorms, unable to stand up cause she’s as drunk as a skunk, he decides to sweep her away to *ahem* relive some of her tension.

Btw, I loved the merman AFO post, keep up the good work, your writing is amazing!!!

Hands-On Instruction

College Professor AFO X Graduating Senior Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.5k

(Masc!Reader Version - Available Here)

Rating: 18+ Readers only

Content Warnings: Dubcon (alcohol/manipulation), size kink, implied stalking, PnV with mild mating press, a metric ton of romanji Japanese dialogue, unsafe relations with creampie, unhealthy power dynamics between professor and former student

Please note: This story will contain numerous conversations in Japanese which has been phonetically spelled out using the Latin alphabet. The author does not have any formal education in Japanese. Resources used are listed in the end notes.

Translations of the Japanese language dialogue can be found here

Sometimes, dirty dishes are more clairvoyant than crystal balls.

In retrospect, your afternoon began to sour when your boyfriend brought his frat brothers over for a “little pre-gaming” before their “last hurrah” party. They swarmed your quiet apartment, draping themselves across the furniture like locusts over a wheat field. Though Caleb swore it would be a “casual thing”, the thirty-two pack in the fridge implied more human interaction than you could handle. Still, trying to be the “chill” girlfriend, you schooled your face in a mask of placid contentment. As the noise level climbed decibel by decibel, your eye began to twitch.

Biting back both your thoughts and your thumbnail, you didn't notice the splash of water in the cheap, stainless sink. Raw, exhausted eyes were too busy scanning your half written speech for the five hundredth time to catch his furrowed brow. Ringing ears ignored the low huff that pinched between his clenched teeth. What you did catch was Caleb’s snide jeer to his friends.

"Yeah, sorry the place is such a mess. These dishes have been sitting here for weeks."

To his credit, he was correct about the flower vase. You'd bought yourself the roses three weeks ago when you'd been officially declared valedictorian of your university's graduating class. Using sugar, bleach and internet instructions, you helped them limp along as long as cut flowers could. When they molded beyond salvation, you’d thrown them away. Your boyfriend never asked what they were for.

Caleb was wrong about the coffee mugs. Five days ago, when you buckled down on your speech, they'd been whisked out of the cabinet and abused with cup after cup of liquid wakefulness. Fat lot of good it'd done you. Graduation was only four days away, the stupid thing was half written, and Caleb had teased you about your eye bags this morning.

…but really! The pancake batter bowl was only ten hours old. He should know. You got up early to make them so he could help “the brothers” with the party decorations. He had no right to complain about you using too many dishes. After all, pancakes were the first thing you'd eaten since Thursday night. Unfortunately, in your brain dead state, you forgot to add the sugar. Every last one of the flapjacks tasted like couch foam and frustration. Caleb had rolled his eyes and told you to pay more attention.

While all those little things hurt, these new words hit like a cannonball to the gut. Your mouth snapped open, but at the sight of his guests, bitter protests flailed on your tongue. The crack of your computer lid slamming shut out sounded any gunshot. You cringed and glanced at the group. Not one of them, including Caleb, turned your way.

Bile burned your throat. Head down, you excused yourself to the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind you. When your hands touched the computer keys, your saliva turned into cotton and your fingers into lead. The digital clock flicked from number to number. Tense shoulders locked into hard knots. Black text swam in and out of focus. Burning salt stung your eyes before blazing down your nose. As you stared at the blinking cursor, aluminum cans crinkled in the background.

It was only when the front door banged shut that you realized the party had moved on without you.

Caleb led the pack, swinging himself around with a raucous laugh. When one of his brothers pointed to your bedroom window, your boyfriend waved his hand. His words cut through the glass before slicing straight into your heart.

“Don’t bother talking to her. She’s too busy.”

Oh. It was on.

Furious and ferocious, you threw yourself into your closet. What to wear tonight? It needed to say “college party” but with that “I want attention” bite. Slutty co-ed? Nah… the pleats needed pressed and you weren’t feeling the iron. Kohl liner goth? Meh… If you were drinking, jacking around with fishnets in the toilet sounded like a hassle. Sweater puppy bimbo? Too humid for that much knit. Crack-my-glowstick ravecore? Not enough black lights. Bodycon babe? Please. It’s not like you were fundraising in the Ivy Leagues.

After three minutes of clawing through the nest of clothing, gossamer polyester slipped through your fingers.

Dark academia? Perfect.

Wiggling into a belted black mini skirt, you smoothed the asymmetrical ruffle hem. Petite brass buttons lined your creamy chiffon blouse, trailing past the thin ribbon necktie to the top of a frilled mandarin collar. Golden hour slipped into twilight as purple haze painted the spring sky. Whistling at yourself in the mirror, you paused to snap a photo of waterproof war paint and flawless hair. With the snap of a deadbolt, glossy black heels clicked out the door.

Ten minutes later, you turned the corner of "Greek Street" with a swing to your hips. Strutting in time with the throbbing beat, you crunched down the crumbling cement walkway and climbed the freshly painted steps. Wrapping both columns of the Greek revival house, flashing LEDs in the college’s colors blinded passers by. Skunky smoke poured out an upper window. You clasped your bag to your hip and strolled inside.

With a flawless smile, you slithered through the bodies step by step. On the left, beer pong players roared with satisfaction. To the right, some brunette barely legal sucked on her purple vape pen, fluttering her lashes at the wrestling team’s co-captain. The hot genderfluid punk in the corner gave you the up-down and licked their plush lips. You grinned but continued on your quest. Crawling past some lost girl desperately texting her friends, you raided the kitchen and snagged the most expensive beer you could find. It still tasted like yeasty squirrel piss.

“Have you seen Caleb?” you half-yelled over the music.

The booze tender shook his head.

Circulating through the sweaty crush, you stalked the room like a wolf on the hunt. A hand brushed past your skirt. You ignored it. With pursed lips and peeled eyes, you tip-toed up as tall as your aching calves would allow. Two sorority sisters shrieked to your left as a third heaved her dinner behind the sofa. A pair of co-eds snuck out the back door, tongues well past each other’s tonsils. Still no Caleb. You sighed and headed for the stairs.

While the base beat rattled the rickety floor, you trudged from room to room, looking for your boyfriend. Door one revealed a heated poker game complete with enough foul words to spontaneously combust a Southern Baptist. Door two hid the “horror movie and bake” crowd. They offered you a brownie. You declined. Door three led to the bathroom, which was occupied by two women cleaning yellow beer off a white dress. Door four smelled like stale pork rinds and dirty socks. You elected not to open it.

…and behind door five was Caleb, dick first down some red-head’s throat.

To your credit, you listened three full solo cups into Caleb’s flustered apologies. However, when he started to whine about how cold you’d been these past few weeks, drunk you decided that your relationship absenteeism should be permanent . Even the non-binary beauty in the back couldn’t keep you in the same house as your ex-boyfriend. Beer tender boy offered to put Caleb up for the night. You slurred your thank yous, ripped off your heels, and toddled out the door with as much dignity as you could muster.

As you tipped and swayed towards your apartment, a cool night breeze brushed past your hot cheeks. The odor of flowery detergent from the girls' dorm itched your swollen nose. Head spinning, you let heels and purse fall to the grass before slumping onto the hideous green bench. Thermoplastic coated metal stamped diamond shaped indents in your bare thighs. Snorting back another string of thick snot, you rubbed at itchy, salt crusted lids. Black mascara smudged your wrist. You groaned. So much for waterproof! Pressing your head into the unforgiving surface, shaking hands gripped your flip-flopping stomach. Gas bubbled in your gut. Sweat beaded down your brow. You sniffled with misery.

“That looks like a rather uncomfortable place to spend the night.”

Reeling from the booze, you squinted into amber lamplight. Trailing thick arms up to broad shoulders, your eyes climbed higher and higher until they reached a familiar, toothy smile. With all the haste of a woman rising from the grave, you peeled your cheek off the rubberized coating and blinked to clear your head. Inspecting his long white lashes, images of a small, neat office off the side of the library swirled into clarity. Finally, those jarring crimson eyes pierced the veil, dragging you back to reality with a panicked hiccup.

“Shigaraki-sensei!” You shoved yourself upright. “W-whashoo doin’ here?!”

Your Japanese language instructor cocked his head. “You say that as if they lock me in a closet after I finish my lectures.”

Heat blazed up your neck. Your brain swam like a fish in an undersized bowl. With a groan, you gripped your head. “Sorry… mmm just not s-ho…” A sulfurous burp puffed your cheeks. Doubling over, you pressed your overheated forehead to the cold metal again. “Sorry…”

With a short chuckle, the tall, platinum blond shuffled out of his sport coat. Wrapping it around your shoulders, he placed his broad hand on your back. “Are you in the dorms?”

You shook your head and pointed to the squat, overpriced apartments on the far side of campus. All at once, the image of Caleb sneering at the dishes flashed across your mind. Puffy lips began to tremble.

Professor Shigaraki hoisted you onto wobbly feet. “What is the matter?”

You opened your mouth, heavy tongue poised to politely explain away your sorrows. It refused to budge. Body shaking in his hands, stinging tears welled at your lash line. Your teeth chattered as a raspy inhale preceded a choked sob. Clutching his coat tight to your chest, bloodless fingers ran cold. “S-sorry…” You repeated, smearing good make-up over bad memories. “Ish a really, really ba-hic-d night.”

With a curious hum he pressed his hand flat to your spine. The streetlamp’s light haloed around his spiky hair. His patient expression glowed with angelic calm as he waited for you to speak.

All at once, everything all poured out. Sleepless nights pacing the apartment waiting for inspiration that wouldn’t come. Combing the thesaurus for words which sounded fresh, but unpretentious. Trembling nausea instead of hunger pangs. Caleb’s complaints about your absent mindedness. Demanding questions about your five year plan from nosey relatives. Laundry that wouldn’t hang itself. Food that tasted like sand. The way your jaw ached from gritting your teeth so much. Crappy beer. The red head’s lush lips cupping your boyfriend’s ex’s cock.

Through it all, Professor Shigaraki held you steady at his side. When your angsty rant devolved into ugly sobbing, he pulled you into his chest. His white button down wrinkled in your grip. He patted your head.

“Taihen desu ne?” he murmured in that low, rumbling voice you’d tried not to drool over during every lecture.

An exhausted giggle snorted from your stuffy nose. “Hai.”

As you glanced at the eastern horizon, the city’s light pollution reminded you of the coming, lonely dawn. Memories of Caleb’s stupid apologies blending with imagined scenarios for the future. Having to stare at his face after seeing him deep throating some rando— Ugh ! You shivered just thinking about it. What if he tried to talk to you tomor— er… today when he was coming to get his crap?!? Oh man … You’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

Prickling despair crawled over your skin. “Apāto ni ikitakunai,” you admitted, nails clenching tight enough to prick your palm. “Kowaidesu.”

Shigaraki-sensei nodded to the green metal behind you. “Benchi wa dame desu.”

For the first time all night, you laughed openly. “Benchi ga suki,” you replied, pressing your forehead into his chest.

Daaannnnnggg… It should be illegal to smell so good. Scented with something fresh and clean, his cologne had a hint of white tea and light, blond woods. However, underneath the cultured surface, it was musky in a very animal way. Hypnotic body heat sent your drunk brain reeling.

With a knowing smirk, he playfully booped your head with the side of his hand. “Dame,” he repeated, steadying you on your bare feet. He leaned down, tossing your purse across his shoulder before scooping up your shoes.

“Doko ni iku— iie…” you groaned, trying to summon what you’d retained of the last four years lectures. “—ikimas..ka? Is that right?”

Like something out of a late night fantasy, your professor slowly kneeled before you on the hard cement. Your heart skipped as he took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. All rational thought screeched to a halt when racy red eyes met yours. “I think your pronunciation is actually better drunk.”

Forcing an awkward laugh, you tried to fight the sappy smile that threatened to split your cheeks. “Are you sh-aying, I shoulda done shots before my final or somethin’?”

“Final grades were submitted four days ago”—he explained, tapping your ankle— “and you already got the highest score in the course.”

Following the wordless command, you lifted your foot. Smooth fingers slipped you into your shoe, fastening it behind your leg. They lingered for a moment, tickling down your achilles tendon before he nodded to the other foot. As his bristled hair brushed the thin fabric of your shirt, all those late night fantasies burst into vibrant color. Heat pooled in your stomach. The hairs on your arm stood upright. When he let go of your body, your thighs clenched.

Graceful as a cat, Professor Shigaraki rose to his feet and peered down at your dumbstruck expression. Eyes dark and pupils blown, you remained frozen exactly where he put you. He leaned over. “To answer your other question…” Warm breath fanned across your ear as he purred: “Kaerimashou, Sotsugyousei-san.”

Trying to ignore the seductive allure in his words, you fished for any topic to clear your head. Finally, you settled for a stupid question. "Sensei, whaz 'Sotsugyousei-san' mean?"

Leading you down the street, he hummed. "The closest translation is 'Miss Graduate'."

More intoxicating than liquor, the sound of your new nickname wrapped in his velvet baritone made your knees buckle.

Nestled between two ancient white oaks, Professor Shigaraki’s boxy Second Empire[1] home sat half a block from the end of campus, down a narrow, quiet side street. Remodeled in cornflower blue with ornate cream and black trimmings, the spacious two-story boasted a bronze plaque near the front door which read “Est. 1883 - Historical Home”. When you reached the end of the cement driveway, he pinched his chin and paused to contemplate the porch steps.

You hiccupped, half lidded eyes slipping shut as you nuzzled into his coat. “Didja know your roof ish kinda shloopy?”

He chucked, squatting beside you. One arm cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you against his chest. “I think the stairs will be a bit much.”

You wrapped your hands around his thick neck. In a singsong tone, you slurred: “Mmmm~kay Sen~sei.❤”

“Well, you seem more relaxed at least,” he teased, ascending the stairs with barely a bounce. He placed you down on the landing like a porcelain doll. Shoving his keys into the lock, he held open the heavy wooden door before coaxing you across the threshold with a soft tug. Your teacher smiled, long fingers slipping between his heel and shoe. He peeled the leather wingtips off, before kneeling down to help you with your own footwear.

“Sussh a gentleman,” you declared, patting his shoulder.

Grasping your hand in his, he fixed you with a seductive smile. “You seem like you need a little extra care tonight.”

Welp, that pair of underwear was ruined.

Fanning your heated face, you turned away from his sensual stare. “Um… Otearai wa doko desu ka?”

Shigaraki pulled you towards the far hall. “Kokodesu,” he declared, twisting the brass knob. Beyond the doorway lay a full bathroom complete with a clawfoot soaking tub, smokey marble pedestal sink and a white porcelain throne. He braced you against the painted wood. One hand flat to the door, your professor leaned close. Crimson eyes glowed in the din. “Tetsudatte mashouka?” he whispered.

Your heart hammered against your ribs at the sultry tone in his words. “I dun remember dat one.”

“Really?” he purred, pulling away. “You used it correctly on the midterm.” As you stiffened, he smirked at you. “It's all right. We can review some new vocabulary later as a punishment.” Strolling across the checker tiled floor, he slid the storage closet open and tugged down a fluffy brown towel. “Though I find this new look of yours rather charming, there is some face wash in the medicine cabinet if you’d like.”

You cringed, rushing for the facet.

With a snicker, he pulled the bathroom door shut behind you.

One unsteady toilet trip and three face scrubbings later, you tugged at your cheeks and peered into the mirror. Rolling your head from side to side, you frowned at the patchy black debris still clinging to your under eye. Sure. Now the stupid make-up was waterproof! With a frustrated snarl, you buried your head in the towel.

A firm triplicate knock made you jump. “Genkika?” he called.

“H-hai!” you replied, bustling to the door.

Beyond the bathroom lay a narrow hall with smooth, cherry stained floors. Your teacher leaned against the dark, rose studded wallpaper. He shoved himself to his feet, holding out his hand to you. “Gohan tabeta?”

You blinked at him. “Uh… iie… demo…”

“You must be sobering up some.” His massive palm swallowing your wrist. “You’re starting to overthink your replies again.”

Leading you down the hallway, he pulled you through a boxed archway and into a spacious dining room. Tall, tiger oak, board and batton walls reached past his shoulders. Above them lay rich scarlet and gold damask wallpaper that climbed to the smooth, white ceiling. In the center of the room, a plaster medallion made of coiling leaves circled the crystal chandelier.

Your host tugged out a lyre-back chair and pushed you into the vintage mahogany table. You leaned back against the plush, creamy upholstery, staring up at the delicate rosettes that trimmed the corners of the room. By the time he reappeared with a small bowl of white rice, your head was spinning.

“Kirei desu ne?” he asked, pulling out a chair beside you.

You nodded, gaze falling to the steaming pile of carbs. Your stomach growled. An awkward laugh fluttered from your throat. “Gomenasai.”

“Iie, iie” he insisted, taking a pair of long, black chopsticks in hand. Lifting a clump of the rice, he raised it to your lips. “Tabete kudasai.”

“I-” your tongue stumbled on the word as his heated stare settled on your mouth. “Itadakimasu,” you mumbled.

“Jōzu,” he praised, feeding you the first bite.

Fluffy and soft, the rice rolled across your tongue, bathing your mouth with its gentle flavor. You barely managed to swallow before the second bite appeared. With each clump, the nauseated churning of your stomach ebbed. About half way through the bowl, you stopped fumbling for the food long enough to meet his gaze. The fixed stare reminded you of a panther watching its prey through the underbrush.

“Ano… Gohan wa tari—” you paused, fishing for the conjugation. “—ta?”

He chuckled, never taking his focus off you. The ceramic bowl clinked against the varnish. All at once, Professor Shigaraki took your chin between his fingers. “Ja,” —smoldering scarlet eyes curled into a bedroom smirk— “itadakimasu, Sotsugyousei-san.”

In an instant, your teacher devoured your lips. His wet tongue thrust deep into your mouth as hard teeth nipped at soft skin. You pinwheeled, catching yourself on his chest. He groaned, dragging you into his lap. A firm lump rubbed against your soft thigh. When his knee brushed you crotch, what little sense you hadn’t drank to death shoved one question to the top of your thoughts:

Should the valedictorian really be playing rebound tonsil hockey with her favorite professor?

“Matte kudasai!” you blurted, wriggling away.

One hand caught your shoulder, clamping you against the chair. “Ochitsuite,” he shushed, the pad of his thumb tracing your lips.

“Shigaraki-sensei…” Nervous fingers curled tight into your seat. “Mmm kinda not ts-hinking straight right now an’ dis-ish probobly ah bad idea…”

“You are under a lot of stress” he agreed, letting his hand fall from your lips.

You sighed with relief, starting to rise from the chair.

All at once, thick arms scooped your legs out from under you. You yelped as your teacher pressed you against his chest. Long fingers traced the elastic hem below your skirt. Strolling towards the staircase, he hissed in your ear. “It’s all right. Sensei will help you relax.”

Your dizzy brain sloshed around inside your skull with each tread. At the end of your climb, he turned right down the long, dark hall. The nudge of his foot popped the bedroom door. Amongst plumb walls and heavy velvet drapes, you noted a neatly arranged collection of robust, walnut furniture. From the massive gothic armoire to the king size sleigh bed and its hand carved headboard, the room stood as a time capsule to a bigone, gilded era. How a simple college professor ever afforded such luxurious antiques, you couldn’t fathom.

Peeling back the dark, gold trimmed duvet, Professor Shigaraki wrapped his hand around the back of your skull. With all the care of a man handling an heirloom crystal vase, he nestled you on soft, ivory sheets.

“Shigaraki-sensei,” you pleaded, squirming under his dark stare. “Ah really dun think—”

“Then don’t think,” he commanded, smashing his lips to his.

You squeaked into the kiss. He climbed over top of you. Heavy hips pinned you to the mattress. Your ribbon necktie slid loose. Deft fingers plucked brass buttons one by one, until your heaving chest and lace trimmed bra lay bare to his hungry gaze. Tugging your shirt hem from your skirt, he peeled the crepe fabric from your shoulders. Large hands slipped below your back, snapping hooks and eyelets free. Before you could blink, your bra was under your chin.

Shigaraki broke the kiss, sitting up to admire his handwork. Face on fire, your swollen lips lay parted as small puffs of air rushed through. He cupped your ribs, molding long fingers around your soft breasts. The bulge in his pants twitched against your thigh. His right thumb tweaked across your taut nipple, making you jolt.

“Kanpeki,” he praised, reaching up to smooth a stray hair from your heated cheeks. “Saa, ressun wo hajimemashou ka?”

Lesson?! He was serious about giving you a vocab lesson?!

“Itte kudasai.” He playfully tapped your breast with his pointer. “Oppai.”

You stared at him.

He flicked your forehead. “Kiite kudasai, Sotsugyousei-san.”

“Jodan desu ne?” you insisted, searching his searing stare for signs of a prank.

He sneered at you before rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Jodan ja nai.”

As your favorite professor’s warm hands kneaded your sensitive skin, sparks of pleasure shot across your brain. Shivering in his hold, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head into the pillow. He hummed. The sound of fabric sliding over fabric reached your ears. All at once, his hot breath puffed across your chest.

“Kimi-ga hoshii,” he murmured, taking you into his mouth.

Firm teeth grazed your pert tit. You yelped, writhing deep into the sheets. A grumble of approval rumbled from his chest as he pinched the other side. With a gasp, your back arched, driving you further into moist pleasure. His free hand circled behind your spine before cupping your backside. Long fingers dragged your underwear over your knees.

Want pooled between your lower lips as you loosed a slutty moan. He shifted above you, peppering heating kisses from the curve of your breast to the point of your collarbone. Heavy panting drowned out the mattress’s protests.

Pinning your hands above your head, your professor nibbled down your neck. The hand on your butt slid between your legs. “Ripīto shite kudasai:” —grinning teeth pricked your skin—“Anata ga hoshii.”

“Ah-Anata ga-” As his fingers slipped between your folds, you squealed the last word. “Hoshiii! ”

“Nureteru,” he remarked, swirling your arousal around your entrance. Pressing his palm firm against you, he pumped his pointer inside. It curled along the front of your walls, stroking the spongy spot that made your cunt clench. Tight thighs gripped his wrist as he began to grind along your sensitive clit. Pleasure tingled though your core. Your stomach flopped. Moving of their own accord, your hips rose to meet him.

As he crushed his mouth to yours, a second finger stretched you open wide. Erotic, wet clicks spilled from your body. Polyester pleats pressed against your leg as he rubbed himself on your bare skin. You bucked in his grasp. The hand on your wrists drifted down to fiddle with your belt. With a tink and a woosh, it sprang free. As he stripped away the last of your clothes, a rough tongue stroked yours, barely leaving you room to breath.

The clink of his own buckle was quickly followed by the rip of a zipper. He slipped out of you. Large hands groped down the front of his briefs, exposing stiff, weeping cock. Cheeks flushed, he trailed the slimey tip up your inner thigh. Coarse, silver-blond hairs provided delicious friction against your aching arousal.

“Ripīto shite kudasai,” he growled in your ear. “Irete hoshii.”

You gulped. “Irete hoshii…”

Face flushed, he rasped out: “Yabai.”

“Hey… Duzzit that mean ‘very bad’?” you demanded.

He fixed you with a coy smirk, wrapping one hand under your hips. “The meaning depends on the context,” he explained, rolling his pelvis into yours. When you shivered, he shuffled down and reached between his legs. “Ripīto shite kudasai: nama ga ii.”

You cocked your head. Well lubricated gears spun wildly. The meaning of the words was lost upon you. “Whazzat mean?”

A soft head prodded your wet hole. “Hmmm?” he taunted, pressing against your moist heat. “Why don’t you guess?”

You squirmed against him. “I dunno but ish sounds naughty.”

“Sotsugyousei-san,” he warned, flicking your nose. “Ripīto shite kudasai.”

Head lolling against the pillow, you sighed. “Nama ga ii.”

He leered at you. “Subarashii.”

The stretch of his thick cock tore a wanton yelp from your throat. He ceased your shoulder, shoving you hard into the springs as each thrust crept deeper. Your head swirled with the smell of his musky, clean cologne. All thought of right and wrong yielded as your pliant body spread before him. While he rocked his way into your core, his head stroked against the bundle of nerves just inside. Quivering lips loosed a husky mewl.

“Ripīto shite kudasai: Motto Fukaku.”

“Mo-motto— ngnn Sensei!” You wriggled underneath him, trying to accommodate his girth.

He tipped your chin up. “Machigatte imasu,” he taunted, tracing your lips. “Hakkiri hatsuon shite kudasai: Mo~tto Fukaku ❤.”

Pouting hard at his playful reprimand, you replied flatly: “Hidoi desu, Sensei.”

“Hai, Hai,” he agreed, sinking deeper inside. Patting your heated cheek, a mocking sneer curled on his lips. "Kawaisou."

Okay… even drunk, you were pretty sure that was insulting.

Still as uncomfortable fullness gave way to aching tension, your complaints died in a cloud of heavy breathing. When he hitched your thighs over his hips, the edges of your vision sparkled grey. Fully seated in your body, he leaned back and wiped the sweat from his brow. One hand wrapped behind your neck. “Mite kudasai.”

Your breathing hitched at the erotic sight of his cock plundged deep into your cunt.

He chuckled at your wide eyed stare, laying your head back down. "Ripīto shite kudasai:” Rubbing his hips into yours, he savored the gasp he drew from your lips. “Motto hayaku."

Faster? Wasn't door to bed in half an hour fast enough?!

“C-chotto matte kudasai!” Your eyes scrunched closed as you pressed a hand to his chest. A tiny whimper pinched between your lips. “Ooki…”

Red eyes glowed with delight as he leaned in. “Oh? Ookii ka?” he teased.

“Course ish huge and you know it!” you fired back, slapping his bare shoulder. Crossing your arms, you turned your head and sniffed indignantly. “Yur like seven foot four or someshing.”

“I know you can say: ‘please, more slowly’. ” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Every time you told me that during our lessons, I wanted to take you on my desk.”

Steam poured from your ears. Hands covering your blazing face, you loosed an embarrassed whine. “Motto yukkuri onegai, Shigaraki-sensei…”

“Onegai?” He chuckled, hitching your hips higher. “Sugei kawaii.”

Following your request, Shigaraki pumped himself into your body at a controlled pace. Overstretched legs relaxed as he scraped your bundle of nerves with each stroke. You slumped into the mattress, eyes drifting shut. Tiny cries urged him on. He captured your mouth, coaxing you into an intoxicating kiss. Soft nibbles made your lips tingle. All sound faded aside from his sultry, shallow breaths.

“Yokatta?”

You squinted at him through watery eyes. Vague memories from watching late night hentai shoved an overused phrase onto swollen lips. “Sensei…” you whimpered. “Kimochi ii…”

He groaned as a full body shudder vibrated through you both. Pressing his forehead to yours, the smile on his face looked pained. “Gaman dekinai.”

With a giggle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his ear. “Daijoubu. Chotto hayaku, onegai?”

“Chotto?” He snorted and threw your words back at you with a sneer. “Hidoi desu.”

“Hai. Hai. Gomensai,” you taunted. “Demo—”

A broad thumb plunged between your lips, pressing hard on your tongue. “Shizuka ni shite kudasai.”

You squeaked before letting out a small moan.

“Hen~tai,” he teased.

Wrapping one hand underneath, he pulled your hips hard into his. Each firm thrust dragged your clit against coarse hair. Lewd clicks made your body clench. He fell to his forearms. His spittle slick hand slipped to your breast, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Your back arched as his thick tongue lapped against yours.

Little by little he sped his motions, keeping up the pressure on your clit. The kiss broke. A string of saliva dangled between you. Through watery eyes, you watched his playful smile become a wide, crazed grin. Blown pupils studied your expression, matching his movements to every twitch of your brow and each shuddered breath. Heat coiled deep inside your gut. Tingling need blazed down your skin. Your body quivered, clenching down around his cock.

“Sensei…” you moaned. “Ish good… ‘mmm gonna… gonna—!”

Swallowing your words with a greedy kiss, he clutched you to his sweaty chest. All at once, you stiffened, writhing on his cock. As sweet relief coursed through your veins, you slumped into his hold, gasping for air. When your breathing evened, you heard him in your ear.

“Ripīto shite kudasai:” he instructed. “Nakadashi wa ii da yo.”

“Na-naka-AH!” You choked as he leaned deep into your farthest walls. “Sensei!” you whined. “Dame!”

“Ripīto shiro!” he growled, grinding against your over sensitive clit.

Fingers digging into his back, you managed to stammer out: “Nakada-shi wa… ii da yo…”

At your words, something snapped. Gripping you tight enough to bruise, Shigaraki’s thrusts speed to brutal pace. You squirmed, trying to adjust. It was no good. With his massive size and your exhausted body, it was all you could do to hold on to him. His hips began to stutter. He buried his cheek in your neck. Between the ringing in your ears and his rapid fire Japanese, you only made out one solitary word:

“—Iku!”

Three quick pumps were all it took to spill himself inside of you.

Your teacher hovered above for a moment, overheated and panting. When he finally opened his eyes, his hand cupped your cheek. “Ore no Sotsugyousei-san,” he murmured, stroking your skin.

You sighed, leaning into his hand. “...shleepy…”

With a pleased hum, he reached down to grab his shirt. He pulled out, using the silky fabric to wipe the cum that dribbled from your body. You groaned and rolled onto your side, nuzzling into the pillow. With a fanged grin, he dragged the comforter over your shoulders and pressed a smug kiss to your temple. “Oyasumi,” he whispered.

Leaving you in his bed, Shigaraki carried the filthy shirt downstairs and dropped it in the washer. Stretching his broad back, he made his way to the kitchen. In the right corner of his phone, the notification alert blinked. He typed your birthday, stolen from the school’s data files, into the passcode slot. Blue light blazed from the screen. Opening his email, he spotted a picture of a slinky red-head, covertly posing with one hand around Caleb’s half-erect cock.

Deed’s done. Here’s your proof. Venmo me the rest.

Shigaraki chuckled, sending the stripper’s money with a fat tip on the side. Tugging a bottle of barley tea from the refrigerator, he replied to the email: Confirm payment when it arrives.

By the time he poured his glass, the answer came. Got the money. Didn’t take much. Kinda feel sorry for the girlfriend though.

Smirking, your professor sipped his tea. Don’t worry. She’s well taken care of.

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

The resources used to create the dialogue are:

Maggie-Sensei.com - School Related Vocab

SG Forums - JAPANESE HENTAI WORDS (2008)

sci.lang.japan

600 basic Japanese verbs : the essential reference guide - Author: Hiroo Japanese Center

The True Japan.com

Gaijin Pot.com

Youtube "RUDE Japanese Words You Use Without Knowing"- Japanese Ammo with Misa

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