#but you know what? it’s okay. I will survive (after I stress my balls off)

[brawlsbigbadonkers]

I’m so normal about earthspark brawl.

[utahimeow]

omg char i just read your brat tamer headcannons for the hq boys and now i’m really curious on which of them you picture as soft doms!! <3

i only put four boys bc tbh i dont know how to write soft doms skxjsjxi i think most of this leans more towards service dom

NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI

hinata

the first one who comes to my mind. ever so determined and ever so focused on making you see heaven. he’s so attentive, always taking note of your reactions when he tries new things; a different tempo, a different position, always chasing after the best way to make you feel good.

oh, the praises he gives you. and not just in bed. you’re his best girl, and he refuses to let you forget it. it’s always a kiss against your temple and a “thank you for keeping me fed so well, baby,” after dinner. “you’re such a hard worker, my love, i’m so proud of you,” when you come home from work after a stressful day. “what in the world would i do without you?” when you’re about to fall asleep all wrapped up in his arms. 

and of course, it’s the same as he praises your body for taking him so well, for doing as he tells it to.

“you’re fucking amazing,” he grunts, balls deep inside your soaked little cunt.

he’s made you cum three times already, rewarding you with endless praises after every orgasm he had coaxed out of you. first with his tongue, then with his fingers, then with his cock. 

“’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” he breathes, whining halfway through his sentence. “because this perfect pussy’s all mine.”

and by now you don’t even think when you whimper out an “all yours, shoyo...”

bokuto

he’s so big n strong but he could never be cruel to you, even if it’s just a “performance”. too many times his raw power has unintentionally injured others, teammates and opponents, he could never see himself using it deliberately. besides, why would he degrade you and cause you pain if you get off just as well from his sweet, gentle words as he fucks you?

and that’s not to say he won’t use at least some of his force when he pounds you against the headboard of your shared king bed. but every harsh thrust as his hips smack against your ass is paired with a sloppy kiss or the squeeze of his fingers somewhere, your hips, your hands, your thighs; a reassurance that yes, he’s in control, but you’re his priority. 

nothing about koutarou is soft, per se, except for the way he takes hold of your pleasure and uses it in a way that’s so efficient. everything he does, he does for you—picks up on your sweet spots, the parts of your flesh that make you shiver, the perfect pace and angle of his fingers or his cock that are sure to leave you sobbing.

he’ll turn all breathy and whiny as he fucks you, non stop mumbling about how “you’re the best girl, fuckin’ takin’ my cock so good.” and when you feel good, he feels good. your praise is essential for his survival, which is why just your moans alone, or the way your hands cling to his toned muscles, or even the way you clench around him, has him dangerously close to his climax. but one thing about koutarou is that you’ll always cum first, and that’s a guarantee.

sugawara

suga gives me the biggest soft dom vibes,,, ever. loves taking care of you n spoiling you. loves the idea that he’s responsible for your pleasure. and the thing about suga is that he values communication so so much.

“tell me what you want,” he whispers, soft but with a hint of demand. and he’ll listen, do anything you ask, even though he’s the one in charge.

“okay if i do this?” he asks when he hooks your legs over his shoulders as he drags his cock in and out of you, slowing until you nod an okay.

“how’s it feel, my love?” he’s always checking in on you, his favourite girl in the world.

and when you mewl out a little “faster,” or “harder, please,” without him having asked, he’s ecstatic. he’s pressing kisses all over your face, your ankles if they’re by his head, your back when you’re on your hands and knees because he’s so glad that you know what you want.

“can you give me one more or are you too tired, baby?” he’ll ask, cradling your face in his palm. a question that comes after every round.

“one more,” you say, even though you’re out of breath and over sensitive and your thighs are shaking.

“that’s my girl,” suga smiles sweetly, his hips spurring back into motion. “always so good for me.”

kuroo

the thing with kuroo is that i feel like he could do everything,, sub, hard dom, n soft dom. i can picture him being a soft dom most often though—he’s just so selfless when it comes to u.

so selfless that he neglects his own urges when he’s got his fingers stuffed inside you. you’re all needy, and you’ve been so patient all day as you longed for him to come home from work. how could he possibly think about himself?

in reality, the satisfaction kuroo gets when he orders you to “be a good girl and cum for me, alright, pretty?” rivals an orgasm. the way you nod, face scrunched into a mixture between determination and bliss, has him melting. the way you clench around his long, thick digits in attempt to obey him.

always makes promises like, “give me one more on my fingers, and i’ll reward you by filling up your sweet little pussy. how’s that sound, baby?” it’s about the control. the hazy look in your eyes as you whine affirmatively. he doesn’t need to be harsh, or sadistic, he’s trained you to behave so well regardless. he spoils you too much for you to disobey him.

[poppy-metal]

Okay expanding on that scream au because it's in my heeeeeeead now

Eddie leaves your house with drained balls and your cute little panties in his back pocket. Has that pep in his step that only comes from a good fuck and you? Oh you were a good fuck. He didn't even mean to fuck you, only planned on checking your house security under the pretense of selling you weed, but you had the news on with a story about the latest body found in the mystery murder spree and you got all pouty and mentioned how you've been too scared to hang out alone at home (as if that wasn't something he and Steve have been banking on) and he'd made a joke about how orgasms are good stress relief but bad for surviving horror movies. God, he can't even remember who made the first move after that but soon you were choking on his cock and two hours later, he was finally able to pull away from your swollen cunt and head home.

Steve's the first person he calls after getting into the trailer, this time to discuss a very different kind of body count. "Stevie, buddy, pal, got some good news and some bad news," he says as soon as Steve picks up. Steve, the preppy little jock that Eddie never could've imagined had the same bloodlust that he does. Steve, who uses his parents' money to buy them replacement clothes and supplies. Steve, who Eddie think would enjoy a good taste of your wet pussy too.

Steve groans on the other end, "God, what is it now, Munson? Don't tell me we're rescheduling on tomorrow." Tomorrow, the date they'd planned on killing you because you were gonna be an easy target.

"That's the bad news, Harrington. We can't kill her."

"And why not?" Steve says, almost whines really.

Eddie smirks, pulls your panties out of his pocket and sniffs the still wet pink fabric. You'd gotten so fucking wet just from sucking his cock. "May have fucked her when I went over for a little reconnaissance."

"Christ, dude, come on."

"Listen, listen, I know. But we'll find someone else, I promise, and you'll understand what I'm talking about once you've fucked her too. See, that's the good news. She gets so fucking dumb with a cock in her, Harrington, and I know that you're gonna ruin her. Pussy like that is rare to come by in shitty towns like this."

Steve's quiet for a minute. You're one of the few girls he didn't fuck back in high school and he doesn't even remember any rumors about you from his teammates. But Eddie's got discerning tastes when it comes to who qualifies as good and Steve can't help but get interested if you're such a good fuck that Eddie doesn't want to kill you anymore. Can't help but get his hand in his jeans, cupping his cock as he says, "Alright, Munson, I'm listening. Tell me just how good she was."

Steve and Eddie do show up to your house the next night after all, weed in Eddie's hand and a 6 pack in Steve's as Eddie tells you that he "didn't want you to be scared, you know, so I figured I'd bring my good friend over to help protect you tonight. We can have some fun, yeah? Get your mind off it?" And you nod, bouncing on your feet as you welcome them in, blushing when Steve winks at you.

The TV is on mute later, when you're bouncing on Steve's fat cock while Eddie's stretching out your tight little ass, so you miss the news story about how they found another body in the park near your house. But it's fine, you wouldn't care anyway, not when the two boys fucking you silly right now have promised to keep you safe. Right?

oh my fucking god.

[lillotte17]

Okay. So. The thiiiiing about ‘No nightingales,’ that trips me up (outside of the fact that it is just an absolutely devastating thing for Crowley to say) is that it’s a reference, right? It’s a callback to some discussion that we have not been privy to. We as the audience knew that ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square’ was their song from S1, but this line proves that both Crowley and Aziraphale are also aware that this is their song.

How do you have an ‘our song’ with someone, if you’ve never Talked About Things even once? Especially if that ‘our song’ is blatantly romantic???

Aziraphale also seems to reference the song in the 1967 flashback, though a bit more subtly, when he says that maybe they could ‘go on a picnic one day or dine at the Ritz.’ So, this is a reference they’ve both used before and understand with one another.

Which also means that saying that now there are ‘no nightingales’ implies that they BOTH knew that there WERE ‘nightingales’ at one point. Other people have said they think there must be a 3rd scene from 1941, and I believe it, because that does seem to be a big turning point, and we left them drinking by candlelight after Aziraphale A) figured out he was in love with Crowley, B) nearly got discorporated twice, and C) managed to actually turn the tables and save Crowley (and likely himself) from getting into Serious Trouble with their head offices. I’m sure emotions are running high after all that. A few bottles of wine, and who knows what kinds of words will start tumbling out?

(Completely random and unlikely aside, but I personally love the idea of a slow dance. I don’t think that it is likely to have happened, but what COULD have happened is Aziraphale deciding they need some music, turning on the radio, and after a while The Song comes on. Aziraphale makes a comment about how much he likes it, to which Crowley gets up and offers to dance with him to it. And Aziraphale wants to. Oh, my stars, how he wants to, but he’s not quite brave enough yet. So, he says, ‘thank you for the offer, but angels don’t dance, so I can’t, you see,’ and he thanks him again, and maybe says, very quietly, that he wishes that he could. So, they don’t dance, but they keep the song. And SO, when Aziraphale throws his Jane Austen Ball, he FINALLY has decided that they are safe enough for them to dance like he wanted them to all the way back in 1941, and Crowley’s confused ‘you don’t dance’ is because he remembers Aziraphale telling him that he couldn’t. And Aziaphale runs off holding his hand giggling so delightedly because, ‘I couldn’t before, but I can NOW!’)

ANYWAY! I never liked the idea that the talk with Nina is the lightbulb moment for Crowley figuring out that he was in love with Aziraphale. And this line really just kind of blows that out of the water, right? It doesn’t make sense. Like…Crowley is generally pretty self-aware. He’s had to be in order to survive his time working for Hell. I mean, I could maybe believe that he hadn’t worked out that he loved Aziraphale romantically, because I enjoy HCing them as ace, and oof, I have been the last one to figure out I had a crush myself, so Big Mood my guy (gender neutral). But even that seems like a bit of a stretch if you are both using a love song for double-speak about your relationship?

It clearly is a Penny Dropping kind of moment for him, though, so I’m sort of curious about what he has figured out. That things have moved faster than he expected when he wasn’t looking, and he doesn’t know what that means for them? That not only are there nightingales, but they are finally singing loud enough for other people to hear? That might explain the day drinking tbh. It’s probably an extra helping of anxiety for him in the middle of a preeettty stressful situation. ^_^;

To close with a different, but not unrelated thought: Aziraphale’s ‘I Forgive You.’

I’m not sold on this yet but thinking about the ‘No Nightingales’ turned me to the rest of it (of course) and like…they have had fights like this one. We see a fight like this in episode one of this season, and it’s clear that this is a usual thing for them, but of course the stakes have never been this high, and so the blow up has never been this bad. Things are said, Crowley already feels rejected, so when Aziraphale says, ‘I need you,’ Crowley comes back a moment later with ‘No Nightingales’ which could be taken in SO many ways, and all of them are heartbreaking.

‘What we had is over.’

‘I don’t love you anymore.’ (An obvious lie but freaking OW.)

‘You don’t love me anymore.’

Or possibly even, ‘If you ask me to do this, you never loved me at all.’

And then he kisses him, which is swinging all the way around the other way from that last statement, tbh. Wth Crowley. It’s no wonder that Aziraphale is so thrown off.

But I don’t think that the ‘I forgive you’ was about the kiss. I think it was the response to ‘No Nightingales.’

I think it was ‘I forgive you for giving up on us, even though I’m So Mad at You about it.’ And I think it was also, ‘I forgive you for not believing in me more, even though I was begging you to.’ And I also think it was ‘There ARE nightingales, and I hear them even if you can’t, and I forgive you for imagining even for one moment that there aren’t any.’ It was, ‘I love you even though you are making me So Angry Right Now.’

[stardustdiiving]

From the ship ask! What's a pairing most people seem to like in Genshin that you don't?

(ship asks prompt)

MAN OKAY I honestly could answer this with a good third of popular Genshin ships…but none of these are really solid dislikes, it’s just me feeling specific about how I like to see it executed & finding the way the fandom handles it is either unsatisfying, or generates an environment that kinda stresses me out NJDNCNC

To narrow it down to one I feel matches the question best I think I’m gonna go with Kokomi/Sara. It’s not really an active dislike or anything I promise I’m genuinely chilling. *insane person voice* but see I am just very stressed out with the in universe geo-politics happening in the background of this Genshin impact ship

I MEAN THAT IN A VERY SILLY WAY. but also I do have a genuine elaboration on what i mean which is like…how do I say this.

I really like Watasumi Island and find their existence + circumstances as a nation really interesting, especially regarding their dynamic with the Shogunate—it’s like the one part of inazuman politics that really catches my interest. But see the way I took the way the Shogunate + Watasumi dynamic was being written was specifically that Watasumi is/was suffering from colonization/imperialism at the hands of the Shogunate. I don’t see them as equal enemies on opposing sides of a conflict I’m just kind of like. Oh my god the Shogunate tries to control their primary food sources + military and after the war u see like, Gorou helping smuggle medicine and food supplies to treat their wounded war veterans bc the Shogunate is imposing high taxes on them they can’t afford to pay. The Raiden Shogun slaughtered their deity who was kind of backed into a corner on trying to secure vital resources for his people and to this day his corpse is just sitting on her territory getting ravaged and mined for weapons !! That’s crazy! I like thinking Abt that!

While I think Inazuma suffered from the writers dropping the ball with a lot of things I am generally happy this dynamic is explored/acknowledged repeatedly and Watasumi at least to me doesn’t feel like it’s constantly written in a really meanspirited and shitty way you know. Like, in the medicine supply smuggling thing i mentioned — that’s a route in Heizhou’s hangout that ends in a conclusion that something may have severely hurt the vitality of Watasumi’s land and it’s ability to provide, but that doesn’t mean they won’t survive or all hope is lost, because theres people within Watasumi who care and embody that hope and vitality within themselves and are working hard to build stability and provide for everyone. Like idk that’s really cool and I genuinely found it a really nice narrative that really makes me root for Watasumi

But then we get to Sara & Kokomi and ppl just do not talk about this dynamic between both nations at all from what I see, despite it being really relevant to the characters and in theory the appeal of the ship? And I jusurjfucn I guess it confuses me a lot bc I remember, most recently for example on the TCG event, I was so confused seeing everyone post about their interactions for days about how it was cute they were engaging in card matches together and Sara wanted to be friends…and then I played the event myself and we get this scene where Kokomi is standing off starring out at sea alone, and she talks about how she doesn’t like how she can’t see Watasumi from here, and how that was especially agonizing to experience during the war, and then gets caught up in her memories of the war and talks about how a lot of her people are still recovering from the trauma of it, and how she’s participating in this event bc she’s anxious about wanting to build good relations between the Shogunate and Watasumi so her nation doesn’t suffer more in the future AND IM JUST…MAN

Like I do think I can see Sara & Kokomi being friends, Sara’s character feels like it’s the concept of “individual with genuinely good morals working in an oppressive system doesnt stop the damage the system causes” kind of deal BUT IDK…I get fandom experiences can very anecdotal and I’m sure there are shippers who handle this aspect of the ship but when at large it just feels like it’s filed down to a vague enemies to lovers + contrasting aesthetic girlfriends ship I guess it def leans more towards being one I’m not really into. I think it doesn’t help it strikes the specific fandom pet peeve I have where I sometimes feel ppl water down a lot of wlw ships down to just being surface level cute and I am a lesbian who likes very nuanced and complicated character dynamic exploration so I’m personally just like. Yeah idk I guess this seems rlly widely accepted fanon wise but I don’t rlly click with it at all djjcnfj while I could be interested in this dynamic being explored, just if I were doing my own take on it ik adding romantic tones wouldnt feel super necessary to make it feel more interesting to me personally yk x__x

I just feel very excitable about a lot of genshin things and Watasumi vs Shogunate related things hits that mark of interest for me…definitely not implying the shippers r doing something wrong by making silly lighthearted posts and being less interested in types of analysis I enjoy but I guess that’s the most popular ship I feel the least interested in I can think of?

[shiorishiorishiori]

Fuck Em Only We Know

Pairing ⇿ Nanami Kento x OC

Summary ⇿ Nakahari Shiori's life is a balancing act between keeping the Kamo clan off her back and living a semi-normal life as a nurse at Tokyo Jujutsu High. When her stoic co-worker and friend, Nanami Kento, calls for help after a dangerous encounter with a special grade curse spirit, their friendship grows into something outside of their control. As they navigate a life dedicated to protecting humanity, their connection deepens, and the lines of their easy-going friendship blur. Will their newfound feelings survive the dangers that lurk in the shadows?

Tags/Warnings ⇿ Romance, Smut, Canon Divergence AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Soft Nanami Kento, Fluff, Angst, Cursing

Genre ⇿ Friends to Lovers, Nanami x OC

Word Count ⇿ 3.5K words/42.2K words

Chapter One: Little Bit

The setting sun cast a cool glow on Ginza, dappling the sidewalk with the shadows of strolling shoppers and rustling fall leaves. Nakahari Shiori wandered among the vibrant display windows, humming along to the conflicting soundtrack of her bank account screaming for mercy and her wardrobe begging for new additions. 

Sunglasses, shoes, and skirts whispered her name through the glass, and maybe, just maybe she’d finally ball out on the designer bag that finally graced the Japanese market. Sure, jet-setting to New York City or Milan for fashion conquests was all well and good, but her current gig as the resident nurse of Tokyo Jujutsu High had a nasty habit of keeping her firmly planted on Japanese soil. Principal Yaga and the higher-ups preferred Shiori to tend to scraped knees and teenage angst, rather than indulge in her dreams of rubbing elbows with designers at runway shows, and her lack of vacation days proved it. 

So maybe this once, she could indulge. After all, exorcising curses wasn't exactly a low-stress job, and retail therapy was practically a medical necessity in her line of work.

Just as Shiori's self-justification for another shopping spree reached its peak, her phone buzzed, cutting through her thoughts. Groaning, she juggled the overflowing shopping bags draped in her arms. Was it Shoko again, calling with another favor from the morgue? Her workday was long done, and the last thing she needed was more unexpected duties. 

But it wasn’t Shoko’s name that flashed on the screen. Instead, it was the face of the blonde sorcerer whose definition of “fun” was deciphering financial trends in the newspaper’s stock market pages.

A smile, genuine and unguarded, bloomed on Shiori's lips as she answered the call. “Nanami! What’s up? You don’t usually call—” 

The voice on the other line wasn't the usual melodic lilt of Nanami Kento, but a grating rasp like sandpaper against bone.

"Shiori," Nanami choked out, each syllable scraping against her eardrums. “Where… are you right now?” 

Shiori whipped her head around, scanning the bustling street for some landmark, any clue. Panic tightened her throat, squeezing out the playful greeting that had died on her lips. "I'm… in Ginza," she sputtered out, "but forget that—are you okay?"

“I fought a curse spirit and I’m injured. I need your assistance… Please.” 

Something sharp and cold twisted in Shiori's stomach. Nanami, the lone wolf who'd sooner eat his own cursed tool than ask for help, was begging? What alternative reality had she found herself in?

“I’m not dying, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Yeah, right. 

Shiori's casual stroll came to a screeching halt, replaced by a mad dash towards her car. She didn’t care about the dropped bags and judging stares she received from bewildered pedestrians on the packed sidewalks. Politeness was the last thing on her mind when lives were on the line, especially lives as stubborn as Nanami’s. He wouldn’t call for help unless he was hanging by a thread thinner than his chances of finding a decent date. 

“That’s definitely what someone who’s going to die would say, Nanami! Fuck—I’m on my way!” 

Meanwhile, Nanami steadied himself against the cold porcelain sink in the bathroom where he sought refuge. His encounter with an unregistered special grade curse spirit hadn’t gone favorably... He winced as he pressed another balled up towel against his leaking wound. 

Sweat beaded his forehead, face pale with exhaustion, but he caught the corners of his mouth tugging in the mirror’s reflection. “I haven’t even sent you the location yet…” He half expected her to explode in a flurry of curse words and panic, but Shiori rarely operated in the way he expected. “I’m sending it over now.”

She launched her bags into the backseat and cranked the engine. The text landed on her phone as she peeled into traffic, tires screeching their protest. “Just hold on for me, please!”

*---* 

  The address blurred past Shiori in a frenzy of flashing signs and honking horns. She couldn't help but imagine Gojo's admiration of her driving finesse, while Nanami’s scowl would have melted the asphalt, but right now, her heart echoed the pounding of the engine. Every traffic light felt like an eternity, every stop sign an insult. 

Reaching the destination, she abandoned the car without a care for parking etiquette. She sprinted into the quiet street that offered no signs of the epic clash her imagination conjured up: no cratered pavement, no fallen debris. But, wisps of Nanami’s curse energy brushed against her senses. Unease gnawed at her, but she followed the trace, her instincts drawing her towards a secluded side entrance. 

The unmistakable tang of iron hit her nostrils when she pushed into the office building. The trail, faint but unmistakable, led like a crimson arrow to the men's restroom door. Without hesitation, she flung it open, bracing for the aftermath.

“Nanami!” 

The cry tore from Shiori's throat, an unchecked mix of fear and relief that echoed in the small bathroom. Nanami’s body sagged against the sink, his blue shirt dyed in crimson blotches. The unbuttoned shirt was a direct view into the wound that marred his torso. Bloodstained and ragged, it stood out against his pale skin, a jarring contrast to his normally meticulous appearance. His once pristine suit jacket laid crumpled on the counter, a casualty of the fight, and his silk tie hung loosely around his neck. 

Shiori rushed to his side. “Please, let me help,” she said, her voice tight with concern, her hands already moving to apply pressure to the wound. “God, there’s so much blood—what happened?” 

He winced at her touch, but explained in a raspy voice: “Just a nasty encounter with a special grade. It tried to… reshape my soul.” 

Her brows slanted in justifiable confusion. “Reshape your soul? What does that mean?” 

"I'm not entirely sure myself. I need to gather more intel… Just know that I won’t be caught off guard again.” 

Shiori pursed her lips, sighing before forcing a smile. "Well, shout-outs to you for surviving the fight with your soul intact," she quipped, gingerly peeling back the makeshift bandage. The wound beneath was a gash, wide as her hand and deep enough to cause serious harm. "Good thing too, because if you die, who would suffer the brunt of Gojo’s bullying? I can’t handle that kind of torture on my own.” She smiled up at the blonde, already anticipating the trademark Nanami eye-roll.

As expected, his eyes darted upwards in a flick of annoyance before giving in to a begrudging roll. "Whatever,” he grumbled. She grinned, victorious. “Do you think you can stop the bleeding?” 

"Always," she replied, her smile softened. “Brace yourself though, it’ll hurt… Let me know if it’s too much.” 

The heat of Shiori's curse energy surged around the wound. He watched her through half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the way her fingers danced across the raw flesh with delicate precision. The pain receded, replaced by a strange warmth that spread beyond the wound's edges. He couldn't help but wonder if it was just the healing, or if something more seeped through her touch. It felt...comforting, almost intimate. 

The wayward thought vanished from his mind as quickly as it rudely entered, chased away by the sting of reality. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, craving solace from an attractive woman's touch? Years had passed since he'd known the simple comfort of companionship, unburdened by the weight of the sorcerer world. 

He chalked it up to blood loss, a trick of the mind. He couldn't afford to jeopardize their decade-long friendship with fleeting thoughts and messy emotions. It was against his principles to mix personal emotions with the workplace… But, a small, persistent voice echoed in the quiet corners of his mind, whispering about Shiori.

The memory of their first meeting still burned sharp in his mind. He could picture her arrival at the shared classroom with Haibara, wearing her confidence like a second skin. Her bronze skin seemed to glow in the light, her black curly hair bounced with every step, and her smile had the power to melt the coldest winters. He couldn't deny that he had an affinity for girls with easy smiles like hers. And as he got to know her, he found comfort in that smile during dark times. 

Their lives were tough, but there were many happy moments in spite of all the bad. Many of those moments would be incomplete without Shiori. From celebrating their small victories over convenience store bread as teenagers to enjoying a night out with a pint (or seven) at a bar as adults, she possessed the ability to make him feel understood in a world that couldn’t care less. Her passion for nurturing young sorcerers shone brightly, and despite himself, he occasionally (only occasionally) found her corny jokes amusing.

Nanami had always been a man of rigid self-control, but being around Shiori like this was… uncomfortable. There were too many moments he caught himself stealing glances at her. He couldn’t help but admire the graceful dip of her neck, sparking the desire to trace the space between her shoulders with his fingers. Her lips, with their natural pout, and the way they moved could spin him into a trance. Even her work attire, somehow emphasizing her figure, became a distraction. Silencing the insistent voice begging for more than friendship was an exhausting battle.

“There!” Shiori beamed, her smile blooming like a sunflower as she surveyed her handiwork. The wound on Nanami's torso, once a jagged tear that ripped his skin, was now a crimson line, edges sealed with intricate patterns only she could weave. The Kamo clan’s blood manipulation technique, a rarity that appeared once every few generations, allowed her to coax the life force back into its rightful place. Years of training and countless battles honed her skill of easing pain and stitching torn flesh together with the invisible thread of her technique. 

"Thank you, Shiori," he praised, his gaze lingering on her face longer than necessary.

Shiori fumbled over her words. “A-ah, it’s nothing, Nanami. You would do the same for me,” she managed, eyes locking with his brown ones. He nodded in agreement. An unspoken understanding and a strong bond had developed between them over the years, having been former classmates and now co-workers. “Also, don’t thank me, yet. The bleeding is stopped, but I’m not done. We should still dress the wound to prevent infection.”

She reached into her bag, pulling out gauze and bandages. Nanami reached out to take them from her, insisting, "I’ll finish it from here,” with his usual deep voice, nowhere near as strained as it was moments prior. 

“No. I’ll do it.”

“I’m capable of dressing my own wounds—”

“You didn’t call me here to do a half-ass job." Taking a deep breath, she forced her voice into the firm, no-nonsense tone that often met with grudging obedience from her students. "You’re getting the entire experience.” 

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a rare indulgence. “You're a stubborn one, aren't you?”

The playful jab made her cheeks warm. "Learned from the best," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Her fingers, usually steady with years of practice, trembled as she worked, acutely aware of his eyes fixed on her. As she moved across his skin, she could feel the faint, rhythmic pulse of his blood beneath the surface, a reminder of her curse technique. The realization that she could control the very essence of life within his veins, something so inherently intimate, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through her. 

Touching Nanami was already nerve-wracking under normal circumstances. And, now the added pressure only made her more aware of the feelings he brought out of her. His skin felt warm to the touch, radiating a comforting heat that made her stomach flutter. His skin was soft, contrasting with the firm, athletic build that lay beneath. As she skillfully wound the bandage, the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She had noticed the results of his recent dedication at the gym, but the idea that she could now feel those results under her fingertips stirred something in her core. 

Nanami's heavy gaze branded her skin. Every brush of her fingers against his skin sent a tremor through her, her touch lingering a fraction longer than professionalism demanded. “All done…” She announced, her voice betraying her confidence as she put some much needed space between herself and the blonde sorcerer. 

She needed a moment to regain clarity in the midst of her conflicting emotions. After all, Nanami was just a friend, and she couldn't afford to indulge in fantasies about the same guy who once pretended he hadn’t been crying to MCR songs in high school. 

Nanami pushed himself off the sink, eyes scanning the bandaged wound in the mirror. "You did a good job."

Nanami wasn’t a man of many compliments, so she relished in the rarity. Still bashful, still trying to regain her composure, she defaulted to humor to save her skin. "I'm a saint, I know. There’s no need to thank me." 

"Saints still deserve recognition," he countered, his tone carrying the warmth that filled her mind with confusing thoughts. "Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

"Not a thing! I did this out of the kindness of my heart, Nanami. Unless…" she drawled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "... that dinner you mentioned a few weeks back is still on the table?"

"Ah, I see. You're looking for a free meal."

She batted her eyelashes, mock innocence radiating from her. "Me? Never! But since I rushed over here, in record time I might add, to offer you my services, and considering the nearby shops are likely closed by now..." she trailed off, catching his gaze. “I’m free to have a nice dinner with my favorite colleague.” 

Nanami rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile betraying his amusement. The awkward tension seemed to melt away, replaced by their familiar banter. "How convenient."

"Conveniently delicious, you mean," Shiori countered, eyes still twinkling. "There's this new sushi place nearby I've been dying to try! I’ve heard great things about their food and their sake selection. Unless, of course, you’re craving something else?” 

Nanami contemplated her question while wiping his blood from the counter. “No, sushi sounds nice. I trust your opinion—” Shiori’s exaggerated grasp cut him off, her hand flying to her chest to clutch an imaginary set of pearls. 

“Is that three compliments in one night, Nanami? I may need to start saving you more often if this is the reward!”

He stared at her through slanted eyes before exiting the bathroom, seeing no issue with leaving her behind for her 'jokes'. “You better watch out, you’re turning into Gojo.”

She giggled into her palm, falling in step. “Oh God, ok, I’ll be more careful. I don’t think the world can handle two of those.” 

*---*

Shiori waited patiently as Nanami emerged from his office, a fresh shirt replacing the bloodstained one. He walked towards her, a determined set to his jaw that softened slightly as his eyes met hers. Without a word, he held up his car keys.

“You’re the chauffeur tonight?”

“I have to make sure that my colleague gets home safely.”

Nanami's insistence on driving snagged Shiori's attention as they made their way to the restaurant. Was it a typical-Nanami chivalrous act, or was there something more brewing beneath the surface? Curiosity tickled the edges of her mind. 

“Do you do this for all of your dates, Nanamin?” Shiori teased. He held out her chair when they arrived at the restaurant, waiting for her to settle in. Not only that, he made it his job to open every door they greeted on their way inside.

Nanami smoothly tucked her chair in before taking his own seat, his usual stoic demeanor undisturbed. “Only for the exceptional ones.” 

“I should feel honored, then.” 

“You should.”

Shiori’s cheeks flushed. Her mind lit up with too many unanswered questions: Was the sake she hadn’t even ordered yet, already messing with her mind? Did he have any idea how easily he flustered her? And why did he choose such a distant seat away from her? 

She blinked. 

What the hell was she going on about? 

She lassoed her wild thoughts back to calmer territory, burying her nose in the menu as a distraction. “What do you think about starting this ‘not-a-date’ with a bottle of sake?” 

Nanami lowered his menu and glanced at her from across the table. “Heading right into it?” 

“Absolutely! Besides, you look like you could use a drink.” Nanami sighed in agreement. Their ‘not-a-date’ outings always turned boozy, and there was no reason to break their streak tonight. 

Yet, despite being off the clock, his thoughts clung to his work responsibilities. There was a high likelihood that the special grade curse spirit he encountered survived the cave-in. Tracking it down again would be an absolute pain in the ass, especially with its ability to completely disfigure its victims. He made a mental note to set up a meeting with Yaga to debrief on his findings… and failures.

“Let’s do it.” He conceded, pushing the work thoughts out of the window of his mind. 

Anticipation bloomed on Shiori’s face when the waiter scribbled down their lengthy order and returned with a flourish of colorful dishes. Just as Nanami’s hands graced his chopsticks, a playful tap bounced his hand away. 

“Traditions still matter, Nanami!” She teased, a grin dancing on her lips. 

“Of course, of course,” he echoed with a head shake. “How could I forget?” 

She whipped her phone out, the camera hungry to capture their feast from every angle. Click, click, click. Every picture perfect plate was added to their ever-growing album of ‘not-a-date’ food adventures. Their collection had grown with snapshots from bakery runs, Nanami's culinary creations, and visits to new restaurants over the years.

“Now you can eat,” she commanded, a playful glint in her eyes. She couldn’t miss Nanami’s signature eye roll before indulging in the nigiri. 

“The camera shouldn’t eat first, Shiori. It’s a bad habit.” 

“How else are we going to remember what we like about this place if we don’t have photographic proof?” 

“By simply enjoying the food."

Her giggles filled the table, the sound warm and bubbly. “Says the guy who took over a thousand pictures of his grilled fish the other day.” 

“That was different,” he cleared his throat, trying to swallow down a contagious chuckle. “I made that myself—It was special.” 

“Well…” She trailed off, hoping to steady the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “This is special to me, too.” Her whisper was drowned out by the restaurant’s lively hum, but Nanami caught the tail end of her shy smile. 

No, it must have been a trick of the light.

The remainder of the evening melted with good food and even greater sake as they exchanged stories about their day. Amidst clinking glasses and laughter, their conversation danced through the day's events. Nanami delved into mentoring Itadori Yuji, Sukuna's vessel. The King of Curses' appearance caused a great shift in the sorcerer world and its full effects were still to be seen, but despite the challenges, Nanami spoke warmly of the young man.

Shiori, in turn, painted a vibrant picture of her day: researching the disfigured corpses that flooded the morgue, prepping for the Sister School Goodwill event, and indulging in some retail therapy in Ginza. 

As the night wound down, Nanami escorted Shiori to her doorstep. “Thank you again for helping me, Shiori.” 

“Hey,” she playfully nudged him in the arm. “You’ve got to stop thanking me! This praise is going straight to my head.”

“You’re right. We wouldn’t want your head to get any bigger.” 

Shiori’s laughter filled the air as they stood on her porch. “God, you can be so rude, Na-na-min.” She slurred, drawing out each syllable on her lips as she locked onto his dark eyes under the dim lights. 

He could feel his eyes retreating to the back of his skull. “You and Gojo with that stupid name. I already let you off the hook once tonight.” 

Blaming the liquid courage coursing through her blood stream, Shiori leaned in closer and with a low, teasing tone, and asked: “What would you like me to call you?” 

Nanami’s resolve was called into question for the umpteenth time for the night. 

She was so close that Nanami could feel the heat radiating from her small frame, mingling with the lavender scent of her perfume. He immediately focused on her lips, fighting the sweet temptation of what could be on the other side of all this flirtation and into something more intimate. Something worthwhile.

When he finally found his voice, it was barely a whisper. “Kento.” 

He had every intention to sound more confident, but his heart was racing in his chest. The small voice that pined for Shiori was dominating his mind with visions of her sprawled on his bed, calling out his name while he tasted every square inch of her. 

“Thank you for dinner...” She pulled away, inserting her keys into the front door as their night came to an end. “Kento."

Nanami could only nod, his mind still clouded with the enticing visions of what could be. As Shiori disappeared into her home, he whispered, "Good night, Shiori," knowing that they were inching deeper into dangerous territory. 

With every passing touch, with every stolen look, they were venturing further into the abyss that threatened to upend the delicate balance of their friendship. 

[deepspacedukat]

Rewarded Patience

Yes, I'm late. This one was difficult, and life wasn't giving me the break that I thought it was, so my apologies. Memory Beta has Major Hayes's first name listed as "Joss" so that's what I'm using here. Apparently, another source has him listed as "Jeremiah". Idk, he just doesn't feel like a Jeremiah to me.

Also, I haven't specified the reader's gender in this one. Enjoy!

Day 25: Ball Massage

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Major Hayes (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), ball massage, MACO x Starfleet Security officer, slight dom!Hayes, slight sub!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, stress relief, established relationship.

~*~

We had both waited all day for this. With the grueling training that all the officers aboard Enterprise had been doing in preparation for our eventual contact with the Xindi, I'd had very little time to engage in any sort of recreational activities.

Tonight was the night we'd finally get to spend a little quality time together. After pulling a double shift, my off-duty time - which had lined up with Major Hayes's for the first time in a week - finally rolled around, and I found myself in my favorite place: his bed. Or, more accurately, kneeling beside his bed.

"So patient for me, Ensign," he murmured trailing his hands softly down the back of my neck. His rough, callused fingers paused on my bruised shoulders, squeezing gently. "I know I told Reed to take off the kiddy gloves with his people, but I didn't think he'd be this tough on you. You're so tense..."

"I'm okay, really. I had way worse in Starfleet survival training," I said trying to assuage the worry making his brows furrow. He didn't need any added stress. None of us did, given that we were the only thing standing between the Xindi and Earth's destruction.

Neither of us has disclosed our relationship status to our higher-ups back on Earth. Prior to the attack by the Xindi, we didn't expect our careers to mix, and the overall dynamic when this started had been entirely different, too. A little stress relief and companionship...I guess the closest description would have been friends with benefits. Given our proximity on this mission, though, that had changed only a few weeks in.

The Major remained silent as he started to lightly massage the tension out of my muscles. His concern was palpable as I looked up at him and reached up to cup his cheek.

"Joss, I'm alright. It's you I'm worried about."

He looked at me quizzically as his hands continued their gentle kneading.

"You're in charge of training so many people, responsible for so much," I said pressing slow, soft kisses up the inside of his thighs toward his boxers. "Let me take care of you. Please, Major?"

His Adam's apple bobbed just as I looked up at him and pressed a kiss onto the growing bulge between his legs. He got to his feet and quickly removed the last fabric barrier between us, tossing the undergarment haphazardly aside.

Keeping eye contact with my lover, I repeated my steps, kissing my way up his inner thighs until I was able to nuzzle softly into his groin. I skimmed my hands up his legs, using one to steady myself on his thigh while I used the other to cup his balls.

"Fuck." The expletive slipped out on the back of a shaky exhale. He clearly needed this if such a small action had already begun to unravel him. Licking up his hard length, I looked up at him as I started delicately kneading his testicles. A desperate moan escaped Joss's throat as I sucked on his angry red tip as my fingers massaged him. "So good for me..."

Humming around his cock, I built up the pace until he was thrusting minutely in my grasp. The Major's hands grasped my head and guided my movements.

"You trying to feel how pent-up I am? Tryin' to get a sneak preview of how much you're gonna swallow for me?" Moaning as he forced my head farther down, I tried to answer in the affirmative, but it just came out as a broken gurgle. "That's it, choke on me, baby."

Joss's head fell back and he growled as he pulled out of my mouth. This was one of his favorite games to play. He liked to see how far he could stretch his willpower and patience before he snapped. Judging by the hunger in his eyes when he dragged me up onto his lap, this was going to be a long night.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[primis-marshmallow]

Two German Scientists

Chapter 1

Dr Brandt had been pleasantly surprised at a job offer to work for the secret government organisation Omega. However, things take a turn when her boss decides she’s more of a nuisance than a valuable member of the group. How will Dr Brandt survive when thrust into a new world, one where the actions of four men will dictate the survival of the universe?

Firebase z

6th January 1984

I had thought it might be difficult to get a job after I finished my studies. My PhD doesn’t lend itself to versatility; intense studies of human catatonic states and re-animation of organ systems, it’s obviously very interesting but not very useful to…anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought. Turns out my research wasn’t far off, at least according to some secret government organisations. I suppose the Cold War has made the Americans and the Russians research some strange things, and they both have eyes everywhere. They even managed to pick up on my little project. The day I graduated with my PhD, just as I left the hall I was accosted by some strange men in black suits. They asked if they could talk to me about some promising new research I could be involved in.

Today I actually get to start. So it turns out the Russian government got to me first, I now work for an organisation called Omega though I’m not exactly sure what it’s about yet. Something about different dimensions. They did say that my research was very relevant so I’m excited. I arrive at outpost 25 in the A Shau Valley of Vietnam at exactly 6 a.m., not too early for me, thankfully. I’m escorted from the helicopter by a soldier, I didn’t quite catch his name but I don’t suppose that matters really. “Dr Peck should be here to meet you shortly.” He salutes me before leaving me alone in the room. My first impression of the facility is that I’m not going to be living the life of luxury…the place looks like it was built in a few weeks with little budget and no regard for safety regulations. All the buildings appear to be made of corrugated metal sheets with a little bit of plasterboard for insulation. My eyes scan the perimeter looking for any signs of the actual work that takes place here, but the facility seems new, I’m not quite sure yet.

My thoughts are interrupted as I see a man in a white lab coat walk into the room, he looks quite a lot older than me, fine lines etched into the skin around his eyes, maybe from stress. He has brown hair, receding slightly. “You must be Dr Peck?” I ask, standing, moving my suitcase behind me and extending my hand for him to shake.

“Yeah, and you’re Dr Brandt? Little young?” He replies in a strong American accent, looking down at my hand, not reaching out with his own. I let out an awkward laugh, putting my hand back down to my side.

“Yeah I’m uh…25. I-is that okay?” He scowls back at me.

“I mean there’s no age requirement, I just want to know you’re qualified for this research project. I don’t just wanna let any little girl that waltzes in have access to my research.” God, someone got out of the wrong side of bed this morning, still I try not to let it discourage me.

“Uh, well Dr Peck. I assume you have read my file and know of my research, if you feel I am under qualified to be a part of this project then that is your own decision. However I would appreciate being permitted to begin working here and prove myself to you. If after this time you still believe me to be of no value to you, then I will happily leave.” I cough, trying to keep my composure. He huffs before reaching out his hand to shake mine.

“Well I suppose you do have some balls kid, I’ll give you a chance.” I take his hand, he gives it a firm shake before gesturing to me to walk with him.

We exit the building, walking over to the next, labelled scientist quarters. “You’ll be working directly under me, along with Dr Kuhlklay. I’ll show you to your room and then I’ll have to leave you, busy job.”

He walks me over to a small room with glass windows facing the hallway. The sign outside says ‘Dr Alvarie Irina Brandt’, nice it's spelled correctly. He opens the door for me, giving me the key card. “Here you go, the next room over is Dr Kuhlklay. To close the window shutter it's this button here.” He presses a small red button next to the window, metal shutters crash down, blocking the view. I think I’ll just keep those down. “You should have everything you need, lab coat is over there or you can just wear one you already have, I don’t care. Name tag is on the desk. If you need anything, don’t ask me, I’m far too fucking busy for admin work.” He walks over to the door and leaves before poking his head back in. “Meet me in the conference room at 4pm, don’t be fucking late.” He finally leaves, closing the door after himself.

“Lovely.” I mutter to myself, throwing my suitcase down on the bed. I take a look into the wardrobe to see the labcoat, it's good quality but it definitely will not fit my figure…I’ll just wear my own, good job I brought it. I walk back over to the bed, opening up my suitcase to start putting some of my things away. They didn’t allow me to bring much, I’ve got some clothes: mainly turtle necks, shirts and suit trousers, there’s a few other items such as pyjamas as well as undergarments. I was permitted to bring through my own toiletries thankfully, I doubt the ones here are any good. They let me bring some documents of my old research but only paper, no digital files. I start to put away my clothes into the small wardrobe, still big enough to fit my small volume of garments. Next I put all my books in the cabinet underneath my desk, and place my toiletries in the little basket I brought to take to the bathroom when I need to. “Done, nice. Now what?” I mutter to myself, looking around.

Maybe I’ll have a walk around? I really need to find out where that conference room is. I pull out my lab coat from the wardrobe, slipping it on before attaching my new name tag. Next I go over to the door, opening it. As I walk out I immediately bump into someone. “Извините меня!” He squeaks out as my face collides with his torso.

“No-no, it’s okay. I didn’t look where I was going.” I reply quickly in Russian, shaking my head before looking up at his name tag. “Oh you’re Dr Kuhlklay!”

He leans back to have a look at my name tag. “And you’re Dr Brandt. I thought you were English?” I tilt my head in confusion. “You were just speaking Russian and you have a German name, you’re confusing.” I giggle awkwardly.

“Oh my family is German and uh..I learned Russian when I was given the job here. I wanted to be able to understand everyone better.” He nods, seemingly in approval.

“Well you’ve done more than Peck. I assume you’ve met him, our ‘boss’.” I nod.

“Yeah he just left, showed me to my room.”

“Sorry about him, he’s just a Мудак, but you’ll get used to it.” I give back a meek smile. “I can give you a quick tour if you like, the facility isn’t too big but it can be a bit of a maze.” Nodding excitedly I agree before quickly calming myself down.

“Yeah, sounds great! Sorry- I’m just a little excited. I’ve never worked anywhere like this before.” He gives a low chuckle, waving his hand as if to waft away my concerns.

We begin to walk. “I understand, is this your first time ever being evolved in something like this? A top secret project.”

“Oh yeah, I mean I only just graduated two years ago… I’m still not entirely sure why they let me on this project, I don’t even know what it is.” His eyes widen at this.

“You only graduated two years ago!? I thought you seemed young…” I look up at him.

“I know I am young but it doesn’t mean I won’t work hard.” He hums.

“Maybe it's what we need, a fresh set of eyes.” I smile back at him.

“Thanks for the encouragement Dr Kuhlklay.”

“Please-“ he interrupts. “Call me Dimitri, no need for the formalities.”

“Then you may call me Alvarie, but not around Peck. I don’t want him to think any less of me than he already does.”

“Sure Alvarie. Anyway, the meeting at 4pm is in the room right here. It’s actually right next to the kitchen so you can just come there to eat with me after the meeting if you would like.” I tilt my head, smiling.

“Sounds good Dimitri, thanks for being so welcoming.” We keep walking, he points out where the scientists' bathrooms are as well as some of the lab stations. After that we say goodbye. I head back to my room to do some reading before the meeting, trying to understand what’s actually going on here.

[manikrege]

Why I love my body but hate being fat

I feel like we all publicly support body positivity but secretly hate being on the chubbier side. And I want to talk about it today.

First off, I'm not ashamed or afraid of the idea of being a heavy person because I've been chubby almost all my life.

That said, I am neither normalizing nor validating nor glorifying being overweight because it has only brought me pain, both emotional & physical - so I don't actually support it.

After facing real medical consequences for my poor fitness, I made a definitive lifestyle change last to last year, shedding a record 20 kilos in just ten months. I reached the lowest weight I've been since my college days. My friends & family were thrilled to see this. So was I. They said I was looking so much better & happier ... and yes, frankly, I was!!

But what many people quickly shunned or discounted was the fact that I had a complete career break/sabbatical to make it work. I had dropped my work, fired my part-time clients, and solely focused on taming the scale.

People said they'd never be able to get such results alongside all the responsibilities & hustles that they had to do to survive. And it made my entire struggle look like a privileged kid's rectification of a mistake he should've never made in the first place.

What nobody acknowledged was that putting your entire life on pause while others around you race ahead, takes balls of steel. It takes guts. It takes deep thinking, prioritisation, and commitment.

But I get it. When it was time to go back to work last summer, the stress made me gain back some of that "cheddar," and I'm now in a bit of a struggle to cut back again. However, I'm confident that if I stick to my old strict regime, I'll be back in tip-top shape before the rains hit.

More to the point, one unhealthy emotion I caught myself having was that I've not been putting in all that effort for myself.

A lot of my motivation to literally run stems from anxiety. The anxiety of people pointing out the re-emerging dad bod, the belly, the tires, and the double chin. The anxiety of my dear ones asking if everything is okay.

I am quite literally running away from the idea of a fat person. Because ... I realise that I'm not actually ashamed of being fat. I'm just really damn tired of the assumptions it brings.

I'm tired of the assumptions it brings with itself, and frankly, all of them aren't even negative, they're just plain annoying.

First, fat people are supposed to not feel good about themselves. Because anytime someone complains about being fat, they're assured that "they still look beautiful," whereas that is seldom something we want to imply.

Second, when I was over 100 kgs, not a lot of people took me very seriously or made me feel like they do. Because fat people are rarely taken seriously. I was the stereotypical "funny brother" for girls. This isn't some toxic masculine Andrew Tate talk, it's the reality. As a fat boy, I was really never really respected.

When I lost the excess weight, I noticed a shift in people's tone & how they treated me. They listened and touched me more.

It was as if they'd just realised I was capable of walking on two feet like them. Like I was somehow worthy of attention. Whether you agree with me or not, I know for a fact that it did make both serious job interviews & flirting with my crushes a lot easier.

When I brought this up in a dinner conversation, someone insisted that I had gotten it all wrong. They said that it was more about me being confident and happier in my new body, which is what many people were noticing and reciprocating. They said my real & honest best friends & family had always loved me (and always will), no matter how I look or how much I weigh.

To put it simply, it was me who had recently joined my own fan club.

I didn't want to admit it but my friend was right.

Being healthy is good for us, mentally.

I did feel lighter. I did feel happier.

'Cuz no more sweat marks! No more being cautious about sitting on theme park rides and getting asked to leave because you can't fit in properly.

No more issues taking or appearing in selfies. No more sucking in my belly & struggling to wear my belt at job interviews.

NO MORE AVOIDING TREKS OR OUTDOORSY STUFF because I can now finally sprint & twist my body without chaffing my thighs red or puffing hard like I'm being choked.

Trust me, losing weight is the most satisfying & nearly ORGASMIC experience you can give yourself. It is worth all the hunger, restraint, discipline & physical turmoil you'll have to go through at the gym. It is worth every bit of it.

I treated myself better after coming out of the personal war. And like my pal said, maybe that just spilt over into how others approached me too.

This is beautiful but also instructional because it teaches us that a large part of our struggles with body confidence stems from shame.

Subtle SHAME that we think it'll invite from other people. Like the subtle shaming at parties and weddings and beach activities.

For example, many of us feel ashamed to take off our shirts at swimming pools because we know people will stare.

On that note, I also hate how people assume that girls have it worse. It's not a competition but nobody talks about how big of a nightmare it is for men. Chubby men who often get turned away on dating apps. Chubby men who often have to stand at the end behind someone else in group photos. Chubby men who must pretend to be comfortable in their bodies & look all chill about it but can never talk about how they really feel.

It's time to say the truth - Being fat (or too skinny) SUCKS ASS. To put it in Wolf of the Wall street style, I've been a fat man & a fit man, and if I was given a choice, I'd choose fit every time.

It has taken me so much time & practice to fall in love with myself. More so it has taken me 22 years to finally fucking respect myself.

And so I'm teaching myself to overcome the negativity. I refuse to let go of that self-respect just because part of me is still afraid of what other people think.

The toxic mindset that I'm trying to remove is thinking that other people's opinions define our real worth.

Remember this. You're worthy even when you're struggling. You're worthy even when you don't fully & honestly love yourself.

You can be fat or underweight, or be working on improving your health, and still love yourself all at the same time. They're not mutually exclusive states.

If anything, coming to terms with the realisation that taking care of your body will always be an ongoing conversation - like an eternal wave that dips & flows high - is probably the healthiest mindset shift you can make.

Your body is not glassware. You cannot mould it into one shape & then expect it to stay that way throughout your lifespan.

Your body is pottery. Your body is thick rain-smelling, semi-fluid mud being spun on a wheel every day. It will change constantly with every decision you take. It is a sum of your past choices but not a completely unfixable product until the very end.

On some days, it will bloat & make you feel miserable. On some days, it will shrink into place when you successfully skip those pizza slices & desserts a few times, and it'll make you feel good about yourself.

Realise that you are worthy on both types of days. And realize that it's human/normal to occasionally feel like you're not because maybe that's just your survival instinct pushing you to be the best possible version you know you can be.

I am learning to take care of myself because I have finally found the courage to admit that I like it. I like maintaining myself and I will no longer pretend that I don't care.

Yes, I liked the results it previously gave me. I got addicted to the gym lifestyle, the high of natural dopamine & serotonin release it offers me after sweating hard on the floor for an hour. And there's no going back. I will pull myself back into form every time I stray off the path (which I now know will happen often).

Self-care is not a one-time journey. You will constantly break out & make mistakes, have bad meals, or just become too forgetful & busy to care the same way. Where most of us go wrong is that once we realise we've lost the flow, we completely let go & let it become an entire streak.

We go back to feeling SO SORRY FOR OURSELVES, and this self-pity is what leads to the entire mess.

But people who understand how habits work know that consistency is an over-glorified myth. Humans don't work that way. We fall out of our habits from time to time. And we constantly need to check back in, which is OK.

Fat. Skinny. Bald. Hairy. Brown. White. Pimples. No pimples. Specs. No specs ... Wait, I'm not going to say we're all beautiful (ew) because that wasn't the point of this whole article. The point was to say that building your self-image is an uneven & never-ending process and you need to let the journey take its own course.

Know that even at your worst, lowest and I dare say, ugliest points in life, YOU ARE STILL WORTHY of love & respect.

Those are four words I wish someone told me when I was down.

So now I speak them out loud myself every morning. And for times when you don't have the strength, I'll say them for you, too.

[literateish]

small story real quick. (yeah this came out much longer than i meant it to ljkfsdjlk)

it starts with a girl (obviously, my bi ass). i spent my whole life being faked out by my parents, every supportive adult, and a ton of friends. being told i was loved and cared for and then people either dropping the ball or blatantly hurting me. and i stopped letting people love me. and i stopped loving myself. it took enough effort to survive. even when i didn't want to. i was disconnected from myself.

i also knew at this point that 1) i couldn't trust anyone else to help me, and 2) no one should have me as their 'project' anyway, it's not fair. so i lived like that. for years. closed off, unloving. keeping up appearances, barely.

and then i met her. we were in tenth grade (i was only sixteen at this point). she's beautiful. her smile lights up a room. she loves humour and dark comedy and gore. she's a beautiful person. and at some point, we hit it off. we're both introverts, so it wasn't until the summer after tenth grade that we hit it off. and then we ended up spending time together. and hanging out.

and one day, as i was leaving school, she turned around and casually shouted, "Love you! Bye!"

that rocked my world. i panicked in the moment. had no idea what had happened. instinct, or maybe something better, kicked in, and i shouted back, "love you! see you!". i don't know how. i thought about it for days. on end. had she really just casually said that?

she had. and she meant it. and she didn't need me to be perfect, because she wasn't perfect. but i've never told her how much that first i love you meant to me. it changed my life. i wrestled with whether or not to give in, let myself get close to her. she won.

she hugs me all the time. she randomly sits on my lap. and we have a standing ritual where we call each other during panic attacks. and we text about the shit we're going through. and every time i'm struggling with something, and i feel like i should just swallow it, i think about her. and how last week she told me about a problem with her brother. and i could repay that favour. i can establish that trust.

i've gotten more open with "i love you"s. to all my friends. but i still melt a little when she says it. her heart out there. she has problems. so do i. i never thought anyone would want to help carry my problems. but there she is. we were talking on the phone last night, as she was stressing out about an assignment. and when we had finished the 20 minute conversation, she said "love you". and i smiled to myself, and said it back. i love you.

it's a long story, but i saw your post. don't feel bad or anything. i've been where you are. sure, it's no one's job to be your saviour. but love isn't about saving, it's about sharing. so you'll be okay. you'll find people like i found her. it'll smooth out.

thank you for this story :) i’m so glad you found your person. “love isn’t about saving, it’s about sharing” is an amazing motto and i’m going to be adopting it

[feza-errata]

Episode 3: Huh? It’s a Failsafe Mechanism?

The opening scene reveals KASAI relaxing in a sci-fi futuristic-looking living quarters where he is tossing a ball up and catching it. His face has a sort of bothered expression on it and he’s clearly been thinking about something for a bit.

KASAI: Hey, you still there?

???: Are you talking to me?

KASAI: Who else would I be talking to? No one else is here.

???: Fair enough.

KASAI: Who are you? 

???: Good question. Unfortunately, it is one that I simply have no answer to.

KASAI: What do you mean by that?

???: I can tell you what I am just fine, but as far as telling you who I am goes, that is something that we both do not know.

KASAI: In that case, why don’t you tell me what you are?

???: Based on what I could pick from your brain, the most accurate term for my species in your language would be a parasite. So that’s what I am, a parasite.

KASAI: A parasite!? When the hell did I get infected with a parasite!?

???: You don’t remember? It was when you died.

KASAI: When I died? You mean when I snapped my neck on the meteorite? Wait, is that why I came back to life?!

???: Correct, I repaired the damage and brought you back to life. Don’t think anything of it. It’s merely an evolutionary trait of my species. Nothing but a simple failsafe mechanic.

Cue intro

KASAI: If you’re a parasite, then why do you have the ability to bring things back to life?

???: I was able to revive you because you are my host. My species is a powerful one, but we are unable to survive on our own. We search for strong, viable hosts, and then we become part of them. That is how we survive. That is how we live.

KASAI: Wait, hold up, what do you mean, “become part of them”?

???: My species has the ability to merge with our hosts. One of the results of this merging you have already experienced is in the form of your new powers. Usually the types of species we merge with consist of scavengers like bugs or birds, but you managed to get to me first.

KASAI: So you’re merging with me right now as we speak?

???: That is correct, and there is nothing that I can do to stop merging either.

KASAI starts throwing the ball against the wall instead of in the air

KASAI(stressed): Oh no, that can’t be. There has to be a way to stop this whole merging thing- if there really isn’t then I’ll make a way- there’s no way in hell I’m gonna become some space leech’s brainless meat-puppet!

???: Okay first off, parasite, not a leech. Second off, that’s not how it works at all. While it is possible for me to control you, I can only do that if you let me; aside from that, when the merging is complete you will still be yourself and you will still have full control over what you do, I’ll just become part of your subconscious.

KASAI: Yeah there’s no way any of this is true. You’re making this seem like a scenario where I can only benefit, but earlier you said that the most accurate term for your species is a PARASITE. In case you didn’t know, parasites are kind of famous for taking WAY more than they give.

???: I was just getting to that. It has to do with the way my species reproduces.

KASAI catches the ball one final time and places it on the nearby nightstand while an expression of grievance spreads across his face

KASAI: Oh no, what’re you gonna do to me?

???: At some point after we have completely merged, I will use lots of your nutrients to produce a ton of super-sharp crystal-like eggs. They’re really tiny and have to find a way out of your body in order to properly mature. Based on the way the human body is structured, they will escape when you urinate, and it will be immensely painful. This will happen at least once, but can potentially happen up to three separate times.

KASAI: So when you say immensely painful-

???: You will legitimately wish for death. Also, once the reproduction process has been completed at least once, I will lose the ability to resurrect you, so I wouldn’t suggest getting comfortable with that power.

KASAI: OKAY, I’VE HEARD ENOUGH, NEW TOPIC. LET’S GET YOU A NAME!

???: For what purpose? I am simply a parasite, nothing more and nothing less.

KASAI: No no, if you’re gonna be part of ME then you don’t get to talk like that about yourself! You’re getting a name and that’s final!

???: But there would be no point-

KASAI: MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY, PAL! WHAT’S YOUR CHOICE?

???: Alright, calm down, I’ll get a name!

KASAI: Good! Now then, I’m just gonna throw some names out there and you can stop me when you hear one you like, alright?

???: Understood.

The camera pans out as the list goes on, transitioning to a shot of the outside of the house, then to an overview shot of Tour City as the sun is rising

KASAI: Kisei… Aries… Hiru… Sakai… Asura… Atsu… Keel… Kine… Len… Amos… Sekitan… Koal-

???: That one! I like that one the most.

KASAI: Oh, you sure?

???: Yes, that is the name I wish to go by.

KASAI: Alright, then from now on, your name is Koal!

KOAL: Oh, I like how that sounds. Could you say it again?

KASAI: No.

KOAL: Please? If you do, I’ll tell you more about my species!

KASAI: Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough about your species for one day; besides, I gotta get ready to train.

With that, KASAI gets up from his bed and starts to put on the training gear he got from HEMAL

KOAL: I fail to see how saying my name would slow down your preparations.

KASAI(gleefully): It wouldn’t, but what’s really important is that I’m not saying it again!

KOAL: Such evil, giving me a name and then refusing to use it! You’re the only one who can hear me! I might as well not even exist to anyone else!

KASAI finishes getting prepared and heads out into the hallway

KASAI: This is your own fault, you know. I’m only doing this because you asked me to say it again.

KOAL; You dastardly fiend!

KASAI: Dastardly fiend? Isn’t your vocabulary supposed to reflect mine?

KOAL: My vocabulary does indeed match yours, word-for-word, but my DICTION is something that I build myself.

KASAI: Yeah, I guess that makes sense.

KOAL: Wait, how did you know I got my vocabulary from your mind?

KASAI: Well you didn’t explicitly say it earlier, but I kind of guessed from everything else you said.

KOAL: Oh, my apologies, I must have underestimated your deductive abilities.

KASAI: Wha- this is basic inference making! Anyone with half a brain would have come to the same conclusion!

KOAL: Not true, back when you snapped your neck I took the opportunity to learn about your brain while I resurrected you. There are multiple ways to half the brain that would make it impossible for them to come to the same conclusion you have.

KASAI stops in front of the door to the training room, which has a convenient holographic sign above that reads Training Room

KASAI: Obviously! It’s just a phrase, it’s not supposed to be taken seriously!

KOAL: Oh.

As the door to the training room opens, KASAI takes note of the surprisingly blank scene in front of him. The room looked as though it was just a big box made of pure white walls, a stark contrast to the rest of HEMAL’s facility

KASAI: Huh?

KOAL: This room seems to be completely empty. Are you sure you didn’t take a wrong turn?

KASAI: There was literally a sign above the door that said Training Room, I’m pretty sure I went the right way.

Without having made so much as a sound, HEMAL suddenly emerges from behind KASAI wearing a delighted smile on his face. Caught entirely off guard, KASAI jumps in shock when HEMAL speaks

HEMAL: Ah, Kasai! I see you found your way to the training room! Pretty impressive, isn’t she?

KASAI: Impressive isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe it… Shouldn’t a training room have some, I dunno, TRAINING EQUIPMENT!? Dumbbells? A punching bag? Literally ANYTHING to work out with?

Just then, the robotic voice of the room’s AI assistant can be heard in response to KASAI’s “commands”

AI: Spawning Training Equipment; dumbbells, punching bag. I’m sorry, I could not find “Literally anything to work out with.” Please try again.

The designated items take form from green and white cubes next to KASAI, who just stands there dumbfounded. The items formed by the room look, feel, and smell exactly like the real things; the dumbbells even come in a variety of weights

HEMAL: Yep, built this baby all by myself! Some of my finest work too! She’s got everything you need to push your training to the next level, all you need to do is say the word! Ask and ye shall receive!

KOAL: This room seems to be rather impressive! Oh, try asking it for food!

HEMAL: Oh yeah, one more thing, don’t consume anything made in this room! I mean, I seriously doubt anyone would be stupid enough to try it, but I do gotta warn you just to be sure. Eating food made by the room will be an extremely short and VERY unpleasant experience.

KOAL: What makes it so short?

HEMAL: Followed by death.

KOAL: Oh.

KASAI: Damn, guess I’ll have to go to the kitchen after all.

HEMAL: You haven’t eaten breakfast yet? You just B-lined it straight to the training room, didn’t you?

KASAI: I thought you’d have, like, a mini-fridge or something in here!

HEMAL: …You’re not exactly the brightest, are you?

KASAI: HEY! I’ll have you know I got TOP SCORES back in high school!

HEMAL: And all so you could poison yourself with synthetic food.

KASAI: Why are you saying that like I’ve already done it!? I haven’t even tried it yet!

KOAL: You were still CONSIDERING doing it?!

KASAI: I mean, you could just resurrect me if I die, right?

KOAL: No, I couldn’t! It’s only been a day since your last resurrection! THESE THINGS HAVE COOLDOWNS YOU KNOW!

KASAI: Laaame.

HEMAL: Talking to your Leech, I presume?

KASAI: See, he calls you a leech too- wait how did you know-//

HEMAL: My powers come from the same origins as yours, remember? I used to argue with my Leech all the time as well, but by the time the merge is complete, their personality becomes so heavily influenced that they essentially become an exact copy of you in your head. They even start to sound just like you too…

KASAI(saddened): Woah, hey, what? You’re telling me Koal’s just gonna become a stinkin’ copy of me?

HEMAL: Unfortunately, yes. While there is a way to keep him from completing the merge, aside from removing him entirely there is no way to stop his inevitable transformation. Don’t worry about it though, this is simply another one of the Leeches’ evolutionary traits! They evolved this way to keep their hosts from thinking they’d gone off the deep end y’know!

KASAI: And just when I was starting to get attached, too! Alright, you’ve lived it out; tell me, how long does it take for him to stop being, ya know, him!

HEMAL: From this very moment, you’ve got a year’s worth of time until he becomes exactly like you.

KASAI: Then I’ve got a year’s time to figure out how to keep Koal from becoming Kasai.

KOAL: Kasai…

HEMAL: It’s a foolish endeavor. Trust me, you’d just be wasting your time.

KASAI: No, a true hero doesn’t take things for granted. Koal gave me the powers I’ve been searching for all my life, and a true hero would repay such generosity. It’s a hero’s duty to save those in need, after all, and I’m the only one who can save him, so I have to.

HEMAL: I see, so you won’t let him fade because it wouldn’t be the heroic thing to do. Say, Kasai, have you ever seen those posts online stating that there are two kinds of people?

KASAI: Yeah, what about ‘em?

HEMAL: Well, while they’re nowhere near right, they’re not exactly wrong either.

KASAI: Is this at all related to my current Koal problem?

HEMAL: Not really, but it is important that you-

KASAI: Then I don’t wanna hear about it. It’s none of my concern.

HEMAL: I think it really should be-

KASAI: Look, gramps, I don’t really DO conspiracy theories, so do yourself a favor and-

HEMAL: SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!

KASAI: MAKE ME!

HEMAL: THIS IS SOMETHING THAT CONCERNS YOUR VERY DREAM ITSELF, SO JUST SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND LISTEN!

KASAI(defensive): What? Are you sayin’ I’m not cut out to be a hero!? Well you’re not the first one, gramps!

HEMAL: Just let me explain, okay? There are many many kinds of people in this world, but there are only two kinds of souls! There are light souls made by the god of creation, and there are dark souls forged by the god of calamity. I suspect that you, Kasai, bare a dark soul yourself. If that is the case, then it may be impossible for you to ever truly become a hero!

KASAI’s eyes widen in shock from this revelation as he is left speechless. Could he really have no chance of ever becoming a hero, all because of something he was born with? All because of something he can’t control!? KASAI’s heart is beating faster and faster until he hears KOAL’s voice reach out to him

KOAL: Kasai, calm down. There’s no point in getting worked up about this; it’s all just speculation at this point! We don’t know for sure whether or not you truly have a dark soul!

Hearing this, KASAI takes a deep breath and looks off to the side to indicate that he’s talking to KOAL

KASAI: You’re right, we don’t know for sure yet. Besides, what does my soul even have to do with becoming a hero anyway?

HEMAL: Well, people with dark souls often tend to be more selfish, only ever really doing things for their own personal gains and goals without taking others into consideration. You said you wanted to save your Leech not because you’ve grown attached to him, but because heroes save people and you want to be a hero. And if we take your actions when escaping that P.Corp facility into consideration, then you definitely only act on your own desires. You were ready to leave the others behind, despite their calls for help, and only let them join you when you were bribed to do so.

KASAI: Yeah, I’m still waiting on Yanzo to make good on that deal by the way.

HEMAL: See, even now you’re only thinking about your own gain! There’s no doubt in my mind, you have a dark and festering soul.

KASAI turns around and starts to make his way towards the kitchen

KASAI: I’ll believe it when I see it! Right now though? I’m starving. Talk to ya later, gramps!

HEMAL(to himself): I know a dark soul when I see one. They’re usually drawn towards lives as cut-throat business executives or villains, so why does HE want to become a hero? What does he have to gain from it?

The scene transitions to the kitchen, where MIZURO is manning the oven and RAIKO’s finishing her third plate of pancakes

RAIKO(with her mouth full): Man, you can make one hell of a pancake, Mizuro!

RAIKO quickly wolfs down the rest of her food and turns back to MIZURO with her plate out

RAIKO: So what else do you wanna know about me? Keep the pancakes coming and I’ll talk however long you want!

MIZURO: Well right now I’d like to know how you could possibly eat so many of these things!? I myself can usually only handle two at most! At this rate, we’re gonna run out of ingredients!

RAIKO: Ah, it’s nothing special really, I just use my natural charge and release power to burn through the carbs! You have NO idea how many eating competitions I’ve won thanks to that trick! Now stack ‘em up!

RAIKO holds her plate out with a huge smile on her face

MIZURO: Wha- that one was rhetorical, it doesn’t count!

RAIKO: You said you’d give me a full stack for every question I answered, so get to stackin’!

MIZURO: Well I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on the offer in the first place! And why even bother eating them if you’re immediately using your power to burn through them anyway?

RAIKO: Two reasons. One, because it builds up a shit ton of excess energy, and two, because they taste so damn good! Now that’s two stacks you owe me!

MIZURO: Okay, I walked right into that one…

Then KASAI enters the room

KASAI: Save some for me, will ya?

RAIKO: KASAI! Grab a plate, Mizuro’s makin’ pancakes!

MIZURO: Ah, Kasai! I’ve been mixing, pouring, and flipping for hours now! Please swap with me!

KASAI: Hours, huh? Damn, that does seem tough...

KASAI gingerly plucks a plate from the dish rack and sits down next to RAIKO at the table

KASAI(snarky): Good thing I’m not the one at the stove! Imma need two pancakes, pronto!

MIZURO: I’m never making breakfast again…

KASAI: Ah don’t be like that, Zamu! At least make me my cakes before you throw in the towel!

MIZURO: So much hatred…

RAIKO: Hey Mizuro! I’m still waiting on my stacks here! C’mon, chop-chop!

MIZURO: Building inside me…

KASAI(mockingly): Zamuuu?//

RAIKO: Mizuro my plate’s still got nothing on it!//

KASAI: C’mon, it’s just two pancakes; it can’t take THAT long!//

RAIKO: Word is law, Mizuro! Get to stackin’!//

KASAI & RAIKO: C’mon Mizuro, where are the cakes!?

A menacing aura flows from MIZURO as his rage consumes him and a twisted, malicious smile stretches from ear to ear across his face

MIZURO: You two want pancakes? Okaaaaay, coming riiiiight up!

KASAI: Finally, I’m starving here!- Gkh!

MIZURO comically grabs KASAI by the neck and what is basically a classic cartoon brawl ball plays out in the kitchen. Fists and flour fly, and In the end, MIZURO stands triumphantly over a beaten down RAIKO & KASAI

MIZURO: There you go, two pancakes!

KASAI, in an effort to protest, shakily raises one of his broken fingers and speaks

KASAI(dying): I don’t like… these kinds… of pan… cakes… bleh.

Cue outro

To Be Continued...

[introloves]

@virgoamajiki: hhnngggg no thoughts just boxer!bokuto fucking you senseless after seeing the other boxer he was supposed to fight that night flirting w/ u just to rile him up and throw him off his game.

— soft dom! bokuto + boxer! bokuto + mentions of harassment in the beginning + overstimulation / dumbification + size kink + comfort + praise + breath play + squirting + fluffy end + bokuto calls reader ‘puppy’ + f! reader

— word count; approx 2.6k

— part of my boxerverse! bokuto: one shot no. 1

he can’t blink back the images of you during the fight. the near deafening roars of his name all fadded into nothingness as he stalked towards his opponent- bokuto was dead set on putting him down.

the prick had really managed to get under his skin at the weigh in, picking you out- pointing directly at you and asking why you didn’t hop on over, he said you’d be better taken care of.

you’d sat there, wide eyed, clearly scared and taken back by his words. you only spared him a glance. instead turning with wide eyes at your boyfriend, now scared for the other man. frantic eyes shot up to look for his own- it was clear what you wanted, you looked scared and your face held a look that said;

“bo, please don’t.”

and usually, that look would disarm him completely- but not now- not now when he can see the way your eyes watered and lips trembled at the words.

he is sorry for not looking at you right away, sorry for not giving you the comfort you need-

but he’s not sorry for lunging over to the other side, barreling straight past staff that looked minuscule compared to his towering form. microphones clashing onto the floor with clear intent.

it’s complete chaos, bokutos manager grabbing him, holding him back down onto the seat, hissing in his ear that he’ll have a chance to go at him, “in the ring.”

you sit, dazed by the clamor and rapid snapping of cameras that bathe the two of you like a shower of pure light.

but he sits back down, hand clamped over your thigh, squeezing you, using your body as a stress ball. he can’t even look at his opponent, amber eyes focused on nothing more than your trembling knee- koutarou truly thinks he might kill him.

-

when he finally enters the ring, it doesn’t take long for the bastard to get dropped. its almost comical how short the match ends— usually bokuto would have put a little more show into it, letting him take a couple of hits before handling it, dragging it out to fluff his ego, showing everyone that he was the king, but not now.

as soon as his opponent is down, spread out on the white canvas- he steps once towards the body— pushed away by the referee in panic with the way he looms over him a little longer than necessary. the referee looking over at his teams side, shoving him back into his corner before calling the end of the match.

he lets his body get shoved into his corner, scoffing at the way the man lays there... pathetic.

bokuto doesnt even react to the roars of the crowd- walks past his team and into the locker rooms.

it feels like it takes forever to get back to you, normally you’d be at the ringside, but for this round he didn’t want you there and you not being able to do that, especially for a fight like this has you on edge. waiting for your koutarou to come home. the tension is almost suffocating when you finally hear the door slam closed.

you know hes not mad at you, thats not who the shake of the house is directed at. bokuto has always been a gentle giant with you— an overexcited, loving, and sweet giant.

he walks straight into the room, tugging off his shirt, shorts, leaving a trail of clothes as he makes a beeline right to you. there’s a deep want, need to have you, it feels like someone’s pressing down onto his chest- a tight ball of... anger and fear swirling around there.

it softens when he see’s you though, cuddled up on the bed, eyes lidded as you smile at him, welcoming him home. when he touches you, your body still warm from an almost sleep, he feels the sharp edges of anger melt away. there was no need for him to angry or scared at the words his opponent had thrown your way- he wasn’t the one about to fuck you to sleep... but the small tingle of fear and anger didn’t leave him completely.

“baby.” you murmur, hands outstretched to bring him into your space, the big body of his instantly melting down to your form, elbows perched on either side of your head- trapping you completely in.

“saw you drop him... first round.” voice heavy with lust and want, he was so strong and powerful and all yours. legs drop down onto the bed to let him in, ready for him, waiting for him.

“yeah, had to.” bokuto responds back, whispering it against your lips before he kisses you, licking into your mouth with heavy strokes of his tongue, all but tracing his name onto the front of your teeth.

“he scared you didnt he?” he growls, hissing at the way your heat wiggles to find his cock. bokuto shifts to hold the weight of his upper body on just one arm, slipping a hand down to tug your bottoms off.

“mhm.” you whimper back, gripping onto his shoulders, body jerking with every pull.

“did you see how i took care of him, pretty thing?” kou spits, pulse quickening at the wetness that meets his knuckle, trailing the back of his hand up your cunt before slipping a finger against your folds, splitting them open to briefly glance at your exposed pussy.

“fuck- course you did, thats why you’re so wet, huh?”

you cant really say anything, because he was right- seeing him knock that man out with one punch, straight to the jaw, sent heat flooding through your veins, proof of it formed in the shape of pure slick painting the outside of your cunt, between your thighs, pooling in your bottoms. its kinda silly, he knows what he does to you, knows you love watching him in his element, eyes hardened and face laxed in total concentration and an air of cockiness to him when he steps in the ring. he knows you love it, cause you’re always drooling into your panties when he comes to you after a match.

“real wet.” he marvels once more, sinking a finger all the way down to the knuckle and all you can do in response is open your legs wider, tilting yourself up to show him how ready and receptive you were for him.

“good girl.” his voice is tight and low- something like a growl with the way you move against his one finger. its enough to snap the string of self restraint he had, pure unbridled energy bouncing off him as he departs from you- just for a second, to kiss you harshly.

its a mix of tongue, spit, and teeth- strings of your passion still hanging from between the two as he leans back to look at your form, wiggling around in need of him.

its okay, he thinks, he’ll give you what you want.

and he does, doesn’t take long for him to grab the base of his thick and heavy cock, letting it slap against your cunt a couple times before squeezing the head of him inside- nice and snug. it makes him lightheaded, he cant think of anything but you- a fever crawls up his sculpted back, a need to just sink in and fuck you silly, but he wants something from you first.

“who do you belong to puppy?” he inquires gruffly, not moving an inch, watching the way you blink up at him through tears.

“w-what?” its sudden, your sweet and kind bo almost never talked like this in bed, it makes you salivate, a heat flushing down your back.

“c’mon- tell me who you belong to.” he hisses once more, splaying one of his big, strong, veiny hands across your chest, pushing down- locking you against the bed.

he still hasn’t moved, and the fluttering of your pussy down on the head of his dick makes him grunt- muscled stomach tensing with each one. he comes back to you- a little softer in the way his words sound, carrying that sweetness you know and love.

“please, tell me you’re mine.” he whispers, moving the hand that had you pinned down up towards your neck, rough callouses rubbing against the soft and sensitive skin there.

its a juxtaposition of kind, vulnerable words mixing in with the harsher movements of his strong hand curling against your airway, frantic in the need to hear it from you.

you know what he needs, and you’re more than happy to comply, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better. your hand moves up to wrap around his wrist, pulling him in close, eyes burning with hot tears forming there at the lack of blood- but you continue, till the next words are all but hissed, high and tight.

“yours, i’m all yours koutarou, my king.”

there isn’t anything he could have done to prepare for that, he stutters, chokes on the lust heavy in his chest, he feels like there’s molten want dripping down his veins- swirling into a tight ball at the pit of his stomach.

all he can do is rear back, hips lifting off you, popping the head of him out and you nearly whine, nearly ask him whats wrong before he slams down in one hard and desperate stroke, catching the skin of your cunt harshly, but its okay- there would have been no way you’d survive in a relationship with him if you didn’t like a little pain.

when his hips make contact with your cunt, puffy lips giving him cushion- he grinds down, smashing your clit down against his pubes.

eyes shut tight, a choked sob tumbling from your lips in response, head teetering back onto the bed.

“koutarou! fuck! fuck!” words high and staccato-ed are echoed out into the room, he feeds off the broken syllables of his name tumbling from your lips.

he looks at you while he squeezes his fingers against the thrum of your quickened pulse underneath his hand- watching your eyes roll back, the whites of them on clear display as lips part, a silent scream painted onto the moments of your face-

the bed groans, creaks with each crushing thrust he gives you, drilling you down into the bed.

“keep saying my name puppy, keep saying it.” he grunts looking at you with a feverish and concentrated gaze, affected in how well you stroke his ego, chest feeling incredibly full, the prickle of his orgasm starts, but there was /no/ way he’d come before his baby.

the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat sweeps down your arching body until his thumb finds your twitching clit- immediately pressing down on it with enough force that his thumb turns white. it rips a scream straight from the center of your chest and your body starts seizing up.

he huffs out a laugh when he sees the way your hips cant up off the bedding- it nearly pushes him back, but he stays unwavering, following the movement of your spasming body.

“koutarou!” his name leaves your mouth in the form of a wail while he batters your cunt, you don’t even know you’re moving the way you are- hands falling to rest pitifully against your head.

“ah- that’s my girl.” bokuto beams, seeing the splash of your cum arch all the way up to hit his tummy- abs glistening with every contraction as his hips drill into you- he gives in, taking the thumb that had been squeezing your clit down onto your body and sticking it into his mouth, watching you with lidded eyes as he licks the cum off his hand, all while keeping your neck pinned down and chasing the frantic movements of your hips.

there’s no immediate reaction from you when he picks up your legs- weak with the strain you’ve put them under, and folds them up to your chest.

the only thing you do is intake a lungful of air, dazed eyes looking up at him- not knowing how he got so close to your face.

it’s the first slap of his heavy balls against your ass that makes you come back from it all-

“p-please!!” you cry, eyes wide. the force of him still pistoning into you makes your body bounce off the shaking bed, and thanks to the squirting orgasm he fucked out of you with his thick cock- building a near searing sensitivity into the walls of your cunt and clit, you cum once more. it’s the final break into a headspace that has you twitch and flail your legs, wiggling against the hold of his arms.

“yeah- good girl.” bokuto grits out, a bead of sweat drips off his face onto your own, and thankfully- it’s what he needs to cum. his eyes are frantic as he watches you- swollen lips, face turned relaxed as you squeeze down around him, looking like the image of fucked stupid.

with the a final resounding smack of his hips into you, his cock jumps, swelling, growing snug inside you before he dumps an almost obscene amount of cum into you.

small twitches of your body lets him know you feel it, his head falls down to land against your chest, keeping you folded as he grits his teeth.

it takes rapid, hard blinks of his eyes to not let tears fall down onto his face. he’s shaky as he finally sits back up, making sure to bring your thighs down gently.

“kou-“ you choke out, looking for him-

he responds by finding your limp hands, still lying up by your head- slotting thick fingers and broad hands into your own.

“‘m right here.” koutarou nearly wheezes out, still reeling from an orgasm that he can still feel.

“that felt good.” your voice is airy and sweet- pitchy and laced with love.

for the second time that night- he laughs, shaking his head while he slips his softened cock out of you.

he picks you up, scooping your trembling form into swollen muscles- keeping you nice and tight against a hard torso.

“you make me feel good.” he whispers into your hair, not caring about the trail of hot cum that leaks out of your fucked out cunt, trails of it running down his leg while he places you on his chest, laying the both of you down.

holding you tight like this, sweat mingling together, residue of cum and tears painting eachothers bodies- he knows there was nothing he should have ever been worried about.

he didn’t have to worry about protecting or loosing you- bodies intertwined, locked into one another proved that you took care of him, gentle hands tracing your name onto the skin of his chest.

“i’m all yours koutarou.” you whisper, nearly falling into the heaviness of sleep.

he once again blinks back the need to cry- he could take all the punches in the world, not even blink, but he was so weak for you.

“yeah... i’m all yours too.” his voice is tender, shaky with emotion, arms squeezing around you tight.

he really was.

[tipsydipsydo]

The laundry hamper [M]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 2.2k 

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut

AU: College AU!; Roommates2Lovers AU!; Friends2Lovers! AU

Warnings: Dirty Language + slight Dirty Talk; sweet and shy but naughty Jungkookie; Mentions of Masturbation in the shower; Scent/Smelling-Kink; Panty-Sniffing; Masturbation; slight Voyeurism; Teasing; Petnames; soft sub! Jungkook & dom! Reader undertones; Mentions of mutual Masturbation; Mentions of 69-Position 

Summary: Jungkook has a crush on you since you moved together for college but the poor boy is way too shy to confess his feelings to you... rather he would search through your laundry hamper to get a shirt which smells after your very personal scent and tries to calm his racing heart... and other nerves. He didn’t thought to get catched by the person who already stole his whole heart in the most embarrassing situation...

A/N: Happy first year friendship anniversary with my dearest @borathae​!! I love you to death my sweetheart and I thought today would be the perfect occasion to finally finish this Oneshot I started 10 months ago and waited to get finished until today on my IPad... especially because you  was the person who gave me the inspiration to write this idea... I hope you like it!! 

Status: halfway edited bc I was stressed I wouldn’t finish it on right time- 

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He knows it's bad and that he shouldn't do it. Well... honestly, already before this thought, which is haunting him since two weeks, he wasn't any kind of "well mannered" anymore. ...before you apologized for taking so much space with your shower untensils in the shower basket and then decided, to take your Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodylotion to your room.

The thing you didn't know was that you took with this decision, Jungkook's one and only opportunity to properly jerk off, with you.

Why?

God, just when the poor boy thinks about it... the thought alone gives him a rosy-red blush all over his cheeks, which almost reachs his ears and leave him completely flustered and ashamed.

How to explain it... your quiet, adorably awkward and super shy roommate, who has a crush on you since two years (or even longer!) tend to use your hair shampoo as a little "fantasy kick". How could he resist the opportunity to smell something so familiar which reminds him of you, so close?

How he used it you ask yourself?

While he was showering, he sniffed on the opened lid of the shampoo bottle like a fucking dog in his rut and jerked off to the smell of English Wild Roses. Yeah, even Jungkook himself is absolutely sure that he reached a whole new level of freakiness. Who else jack themself off while sniffing on a damn hair shampoo bottle?!

Jungkook has simply a thing for scents... especially for everything that smells like you. Whenever something of you comes in contact with his nostrils, he immediately pops a boner.

Really, it's not funny anymore when you feel that your dick is going hard just from getting a whiff of your crush's parfum when they're passing by.

Anyway, not your parfum or shower utensils are giving Jungkook a problem now, it's much more your laundry hamper which suddenly developts a really strong seductive affect on him.

Both of you having a seperate laundry hamper in the shared bathroom and also a laudry bag in your room. It's easier to have these two opportunities to put your laundry than walking always with an arm full of dirty clothes through the whole apartement.

Especially when friends of the other person are over and a pair of Kook's boxer briefs or one of your bra's found their way to the floor, unnoticed. Okay, 'unnoticed' as long as one of your friends are yelling that there is dirty underwear in the hallway. Of course not without dropping some stupid and teasing comments.

Yeah, it's really better for Jungkook's and your own peace to have a laundry bag in your room and a laundry hamper in the bathroom. Even when Kookie wouldn't mind it at all to be the one who would've found your lingerie...

...and that's the point. Since this one incidence with your dessous, Jungkook is haunted by countless absolutely filthy and indecent thoughts. At first he was still able to control them and to shove them away into the last corner of his mind. But after you took your shower stuff with you to your room, these fantasies returned really, really fast and his interest in your laundry hamper grew endlessly.

It absolutely didn't help that he pretty aware of the fact that you showered just a half an hour ago.

You made yourself ready to go to the movies with some of your friends. That means, he would be completely alone for the next few hours with the clothes you've worn before and are now own your very personal scent. How the hell should he survive this silently for him screaming seduction?!

Okay, okay, even when he'd took something off your hamper... just as a hypothetisch thought... it would be definitely only something completely innocent, like a shirt or something else. Really, he just loves to smell your wonderful personal scent. It's calming his wild racing heart... and in some way his unsatisfied desires as well.

Once again he takes a glimpse through the slightly opened bathroom door into the hallway which leads to the front door. Everything is silent, he is indeed completely alone in the apartement.

Now or never. Maybe he should take one of your worn out T-Shirts you always wear for house chores and isn't one of your favourite piece of clothing anymore. Maybe then you wouldn't notice that's even gone... for a longer time.

He shouldn't debate any longer before he reverses his opinion and pull back... he would slap himself if he'd let such an opportunity slip through his fingers unused...

As soon as he opens the lid of your laundry hamper, all his 'good and pure resolutions' are thrown out of the next bathroom window. Hebshould have guessed it, he should have known it... that your underwear is the last thing you take of your body before showering. Well, in conclusion, your panties are the first piece of cloth which is greeting Jungkook's eyes.

He's gulping harshly. Fuck, his brain knows that what he's doing here is bad and dirty, that he shouldn't do it... but his body and especially his dick is literally screaming and begging him to reach out for exactly this piece of lingerie.

Those tiny little wheels starts turning in Jungkook's head when he scans through your latest outfit. He remembers which Sweater and Sweatpants you wore. How could he forget those cute socks with this adorable avocado print on them.

...but no Bra.

Fuck... Jungkook can't explain himself why he finds the thought of you, being so comfortable in your shared apartement and around him, that you decided to not wear a bra underneath and let your tits bounce around freely, so god damn attractive...

Before he even realized it, his greedy hand took your used panties already out of the laundry hamper and lets the soft fabric slip through his fingertips.

It's a plain black cotton panty with a lacey border which has a beautiful flower pattern. Others would say it's boring, unspectacular underwear but for Jungkook it's already beautiful and beyond belief sexy lingerie. To imagine that you walk casually around in those panties everyday... Jungkook feels how his dick is already leaking precum in his boxer briefs.

With every second he holds this pair of panties in his hands, his poor, needy cocks hardens even more in his grey sweats. He gulps again. He shouldn't do it... but your panties are tempting him and his short patience.

Before he can control what he's doing, his nose is already buried in this piece of cloth and takes a deep breath.

If his other hand wouldn't already disappeared beneath his waist band and squeezed the base of his cock, he would've already blown his load right here in his sweats.

He's panting, his breath fast and ragged, trying to take as much as possible of your intoxicating scent into his lungs when he yanks his sweatpants down to his knees and lays his hand in a firm grip around his red, swollen and angrily leaking cock. He's literally dripping, so it doesn't take long until his whole palm is lubed thoroughly with his own precum.

Jungkook's mind is clouded, he can't built any proper thought anymore, your delicious smell makes him salivating and he knows, he feels it in every fiber of his body, that he already got addicted to the smell of your panties... your pussy.

He can't believe that you smell so good, like that fucking good that he almost blew his load already in his pants. Untouched.

His mind is spiralling, dirty thoughts get exceeded by even more filthier ones, every secret and forbidden fantasies which he hold under control for so, so long are crashing down on him.

God, what would he do to be the lucky person who gets you on top of him, queening him, his whole face buried into your pussy, your juices smearing all over his chin and cheeks and getting a good whiff of your perfect cunt first hand. He would happily die between your legs, suffocated by your thighs which you would've squeeze so tightly around his head that it would literally crushed him. He would die as the happiest man in the whole universe.

To imagine how you'd whine, whimper and growl at him... praising him for doing so good, pleasuring you so well, tugging at his locks because you can barely handle the pleasure you receive from his tongue and lips...

His fist goes faster and faster, his wrist will hurt so bad in the exam tomorrow... but that's Jungkook tiniest problem right now, he needs to cum so fucking bad, his balls are already hard and tight, feeling like they would burst if he wouldn't cum and time soon.

"Tz, tz, tz... what do we have here? I didn't thought you'd be such a naughty boy as someone who's so sweet and shy, Jungkook... sniffing your roommates panties and jerking off to them...", you snicker and smirk, even though bis back is still facing you. The later flinchs noticeably and lets a surprised and equally terrified yelp out, almost jumping around to you.

He's trying to save to situation and his pride, throwing your panties back into your open laundry hamper and pulling his pants up as quick as possible.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I am so, so, so, so sorry, it will never happen again, I am so sorry that you have such a disgusting roommate like me, I am so sorry, I didn't knew you'd come back so early again- oh fuck... I am so sorry, I am a disaster", Jungkook chokes out in a trembling voice and glassy eyes, a tiny little sob leaves him as well. He is truly ashamed and mortified to death.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, he looks so sorry and embarrassed, he couldn't look at himself in the mirror again. Slowly you start to shake your head 'no'.

"Oh Jungkookie, I didn't mean to shame you... I... I just was a little surprised to catch you here in the bathroom... having a little fun time with yourself... I realized halfway to the cinema that I forgot my wallet and I came back to get it... then I saw you and just wanted to tease you a little bit... ah shit- I think I just messed the things up as well... okay okay, stupid question from a stupid person who has a big, fat crush on you since months, if not even years... wouldyoumindmetohelpyoutocum?", you ramble nervously, now are your cheeks equally beet-red.

Jungkook's eyes shoot up to your face, your red cheeks, your big, questioning eyes and your lip biting is sending a new rush of exitement down to his softening cock, making him harden all over again.

"W-What? ...what?? You- you too? I-I am crushing on you since we moved in together and now you're telling me that you- ...oh my god, yes... yes... yes please... please help me. I am so needy and horny right now and your pant- you always smelled so good and it's driving me crazy... I am so horny for you, Y/N."

Jungkook couldn't control his blabbering mouth anymore, everything is just blurting out of him with such a force like the Niagara Waterfall.

You sigh in relieve and a bright smile is forming on your lips as you walk over to your crush and lay both of your hands on his cute and round cheeks, so you can look each other into the eyes.

"Jungkook, I would like to ask you if you're comfortable with the thought of me kissing you before I will... devour you?"

Just to hear the two words 'devour you' out of your mouth made his knees almost buckle. His head is moving by itself, nodding vehemently. But to his confusion you're shaking your head no.

"Babyboy, I need your verbal confirmation. Consent is key, alright?", you say in a gently yet firm voice.

Oh God, you'll be his death... calling him 'Babyboy' alone made a whimper slips past his lips which is why you hum very appreciately.

"Oh God, yes, yes, yes... please... please kiss me and devour me, Mistress- ugh, s-sorry, I- I didn't mean to say that", Jungkook coughs out all flustered again, don't dare to look you in the face.

Such a good, perfect babyboy he is already for you.

"Don't be shy, Baby... I like the title you gave me. When you like it, you can continue to address me with 'Mistress'. ...what about we change our location to your or my bedroom? I'd love to let you smell and taste my pussy... not just through worn fabric. I would take great care of your aching cock... I saw how swollen, red and leaking it was already. What about you eat me out while I take your cock into my mouth and jerk you off with the panties I wear right now. Hm, sounds good?

Jungkook's head is already spinning again when your lips finally meet, your mouth and tongue already taking the control over him and devouring him.

Yes, you'll be definitely the death for him.

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 18

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 18] || make you feel better

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [and if you were my little girl // i’d do whatever i could do] daddy issues x the neighbourhood

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_____________________________

Saturday, 23 October, 10:13pm

“Are you feeling any better?” Y/n blinks and looks over at Yoongi while she’s dropping empty McDonald’s containers in her garbage bin. He’s standing by the window, pushing it open and fanning himself, cheeks red. It’s starting to get rather chilly outside these days, and the castle’s finally turned on its heating systems to keep the students from freezing to death as winter nears.

The problem -- for most Slytherins, in fact -- is that Yoongi’s so used to the dungeons always being cold that it takes him some time to adjust to the heated rooms above ground in the winter. Y/n’s bedroom feels normal to her, but to him it’s a damn sauna, a sentiment emphasized by the fact that he’s stripping out of his hoodie as he makes his way to her wardrobe to look for thinner pajama bottoms than the ones he’d shown up in. When he finds what he’s looking for, he’s ducking into her bathroom, calling out to her through the door.

“Answer me, nerd.” Y/n hums, having forgotten that he’d even asked her something because she’s so busy trying to decide how to survive the night with that chill coming in through the window.

“I’m okay -- Yoongi, how are you expecting me to sleep with that window open? We’ll both catch a cold.” Pulling the door open, Yoongi tosses his other pants over her desk chair and points at his hoodie, abandoned on her bed.

“Should still be warm.” He doesn’t say anything more about it, heading over to where his laptop sits on her mattress, their movie paused. “You’re only feeling okay?” He’s very nonchalant about the whole thing, but he keeps bringing it up, so Y/n knows he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah, I’m just -- I dunno, stressed. Tired. Overwhelmed. Did I mention stressed?” Breathing out a laugh through his nose, Yoongi checks that the battery on his laptop’s still fine while Y/n reaches for his hoodie. Sliding it over her head, she finds that he wasn’t wrong -- it is still warm. It also smells like him, and she breathes in the scent easily, already mourning the moment that the material will start to smell like her instead.

She’s so busy pressing the sleeves to her nose and humming with satisfaction at the smell that she doesn’t notice Yoongi’s watching her from where he sits on the edge of her bed. When she finally looks up and meets his eyes, she sees that he’s got a fond look on his face, smiling up at her while she gets distracted by the comfort of wearing his clothes.

“Having fun?” If this were any other day, she might be embarrassed that she’s been caught sniffing his hoodie. But she’s feeling warm and a little delirious both from the food and the exhaustion of such a long day, so she’s just nodding, pressing the sleeves to her face again. Yoongi’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Okay, well -- we can finish the movie or just go to bed? If you’re tired?” Y/n shakes her head, still feeling too wound up from the day to even fathom going to sleep right now.

“Let’s finish the movie — I’ll probably fall asleep at some point.” He nods, scooting back on the mattress until he can lean against the headboard and get under the blanket, beckoning her over with a pat of his hand on the space between his legs.

“Come on — I’ll keep you warm.” Unable to deny the excitement she feels at the thought of being held while she drifts off to sleep, Y/n crawls over to Yoongi, settling with her back against his chest. She sighs contently when he wraps his arms around her, hitting the spacebar on his laptop with his foot to resume the movie before bending his knees and caging her in. She feels safe here.

They watch the movie in silence for a few minutes, Yoongi holding Y/n’s hands in his and playing with her fingers to try and soothe her with small movements. It seems to work, because she’s curling into him even more after a moment. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Yoongi whispers to her.

“Is there anything I can do?” Y/n shuts her eyes with a smile, filled with adoration. Ever since what had happened on Thursday, when she’d expressed her insecurities, Yoongi had been more attentive than usual. Keeping an eye on her and spending more time attached to her physically, he’d been very affectionate the last couple of days. She’s not even sure he’s noticed. “Y/n?” She cracks her eyes open, letting out a noise of confusion. Yoongi smiles softly, repeating himself.

“Let me help you… please?” Humming quietly, she finds it hard to concentrate, feeling herself getting lost in his warmth — he’s solid against her, strong and secure. With his heartbeat against her back, his breathing in sync with hers… it’s comforting. She knows he’ll take care of her if she asks.

“There’s… one thing… that might be nice.” He squeezes her, letting her know he’s listening. Their hands are intertwined in her lap, but she’s extracting her right hand from the pile and placing it gently on the back of his. Guiding him slowly, she sets his hand at the base of her throat, feeling him inhale sharply behind her when he gets the message.

“I thought you said you didn’t wanna talk to Rough Yoongi anytime soon.” He says it jokingly, but she hears the genuine question within.

“It doesn’t have to be rough…” Blinking quickly, he starts putting the pieces together in his head, realizing what she wants. But his silence is a little too long, worrying her, and she’s turning just enough that she can see him out of the corner of her eye.

“We don’t have to… is it because it’s Saturday?” If he’s honest, he’d completely forgotten about the fact that this would technically break one of their rules, but he’s pretty sure he’d broken a rule at that Gryffindor party not long ago. Besides, she needs his help.

“I don’t care about that… I just wanna make you feel better.”

She’s already whining, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Moving his hand, he wraps his fingers around her throat, pausing to meet her eyes before he does anything else.

“But I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything.”

He purses his lips, incredibly fond of her in this moment — usually, it takes a while to break her, but she’s already given in. She’s already relinquishing control, leaving everything up to him. It’s adorable, but he’s still cautious, not wanting to go too far -- not tonight.

“You have to tell me how you’re feeling when I ask. Sound fair?”

She nods quickly, breathing out a confirmation as she leans her head back on his shoulder and shuts her eyes.

“Mm… sounds fair…”

Keeping his gaze on the side of her face, he runs his thumb and two of his fingers along the sides of her neck, feeling her shiver against him. Satisfied, he presses the rest of fingers down, palm warm against the base of her throat.

When he squeezes tight, her body reacts automatically, a shaky breath leaving her while she clings to him. Her hands ball up the material of his pants when she grabs at his thighs, and Yoongi’s shocked to see how responsive she is.

“Are you that wound up, babygirl?” She whines quietly, and he squeezes once in warning. She hadn’t answered him. “Let’s try that again, hm?”

“I’m sorry…” He watches her frown as she apologizes, her eyes cracking open to glance nervously up at him. “Are you upset with me?” Removing his hand from her throat, Yoongi brushes his thumb over her cheek, shaking his head.

“Not upset… Just want you to answer my questions so I know you’re okay.” She nods, unintentionally pouting at him while she finally responds to his question.

“I’m still just… really tense, I guess…” Dragging his fingers back down the column of her throat, Yoongi squeezes suddenly — it’s not harsh or shocking, only firm, his hand steady against her. It pulls a sigh out of her, and her eyelids are fluttering closed as she drops her head back against his shoulder again.

“Feel good?” She smiles hazily, a whispered ‘yes… thank you’ leaving her, and Yoongi can’t help but smile at how honest she is. Pressing tighter, he doesn’t say a word about the shaky moan that slips out, only wrapping his free arm around her waist and holding her closer to his chest.

“Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’ll take care of you, babygirl.” Her whine is loud, and he sees now that that’s what she needs from him -- to help her forget. To give her a break… Yoongi plans on making that happen for her.

“Trust me?” She echoes back immediately, the ‘trust you’ breathy and distracted, like she’s not totally paying attention. But she’d remembered to answer, so Yoongi knows she’s still with him.

“Want me to fix it?” She whines out a confirmation, nodding slowly. This one’s delayed, prompting Yoongi to check in on her.

“How are you feeling?” A pause, and then—

“Good… feel good… better…” Yoongi flexes his fingers, pressing down for longer this time to reward her for being honest with him. When he finally eases up, she’s gasping for breath, and he can feel her heart racing through her back — or maybe that’s his heart. He’s not sure. They’ve done this before, but not like this, so he’s getting a little nervous that what he’s doing won’t be enough to help her. But he has to be steady for her, so he’s pushing forward, hoping he can do it right.

Pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear, he’s mumbling softly to her -- it’s permission, permission to forget everything and give him control. And, even though he’s unsure of himself, it turns out to be exactly what she needs.

“Just let it all go, babygirl… Don’t think about anything but me.” He squeezes for emphasis while he says it, only releasing her when he feels her exhale deeply, going lax against him. Running his fingers gently over all the places he’d pressed too hard, wondering if he’d accidentally left bruises, he whispers to her, checking in.

“Better?” When she doesn’t respond after a moment, his heart is dropping, and he’s glancing down at her quickly, fingers going to her chin so he can turn her head toward him.

“Y/n?” She doesn’t make any move to acknowledge him, only nuzzling her face into his neck slightly. Yoongi furrows a brow, blinking through the pounding in his ears because he needs to figure out what to do. Had he gone too far?

“Baby? Hey…” Taking her face in his hand, he shakes her gently, trying to get something -- anything -- out of her. She must be able to hear the slight edge in his voice, because she’s finally responding. Just a hum, but it’s enough to have him sighing in relief. “There you are…”

“…’m sorry…” Breathing out a laugh, Yoongi works at slowing his heart rate while he responds.

“You’re not in trouble… just wanna know how you’re doing.” Y/n shifts in his arms, turning in his lap until she’s curled up to his chest, her mind fuzzy. She only nods, and Yoongi knows that’s all he’s getting out of her. But he’s gonna need more than that.

“Feel better?” She nods again, stronger this time.

“Better… much better…” He’s glad, because he’s not sure he’d be able to keep going with this tonight, still a little on edge. But as he looks down at her, he can see that she’s completely at ease, all of the tension in her shoulders and face gone now. His chest swells, proud of himself for being able to help her after all.

And then a breeze is drifting in through the open window, and she’s shivering against him. He looks over at it, relaxing his hold on her as he considers getting up to shut it.

“Want me to close the window?” Immediately, she’s latching onto the front of his shirt, holding him back. Her eyes open then, expression laced with panic. His own eyes go wide, too, not having expected her to come out of her headspace that fast.

“No-- Don’t go…” Yoongi breathes out a laugh of disbelief.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, baby…” But he doesn’t push it, only readjusting his arms around her, pulling her close again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sliding his leg out from under the comforter, he closes his laptop with his foot, their movie completely abandoned.

Deciding he’d honestly rather risk breaking the device than letting Y/n go for even the few seconds it would take him to move it to her bedside table, he nudges the computer toward the edge of the bed, aiming for the spot where he’d left his bag earlier and pushing it off. He winces when it crashes to the hardwood floor instead. He’ll just buy a new one.

Turning to look at Y/n, he shuffles around on the mattress until they’re tucked comfortably under the blanket, Y/n’s face hidden in his chest.

“Doing okay?” He feels her nod, and then she’s lifting her head to look at him -- her eyes seem clearer now, he notes.

“I’m good now… sorry for not answering you earlier…” With a smile, he scoots down until they’re eye level with each other. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible.

“It’s okay… I was just worried…” Y/n looks him over, seeing the lingering anxiety in his eyes. He must have tried really hard for her.

“I’m sorry, I was just… a little out of it, I guess. It felt nice, so I didn’t want to come out of it.” Yoongi nods, finally understanding what had been happening to her.

“Good… I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that you just weren’t registering anything anymore…” He pauses, biting at his lip nervously. “It… was good, right? I did okay?”

Y/n just stares at him for a moment, wondering how he could possibly not be sure of himself after having just seen her fall apart. After having just made her fall apart. Smiling fondly, she leans in, pressing her mouth to his. It’s soft, their lips barely touching, but it’s enough to have him exhaling deeply, releasing the stress he’d been feeling.

When she pulls back, she’s smiling softly at him, but then her mind is flashing back to what she’d been worried about earlier, the feeling creeping up on her again. She eyes him guiltily, only voicing her concern when he lifts a brow at her.

“Is it okay… that I asked us to break a rule? I won’t do it again…” She’s unprepared for the wide smile Yoongi shoots her, his gums peeking through. He finds it incredibly cute how vulnerable she is, pouty and nervous.

“I really don’t care, Y/n. I just wanted to make you feel better… as long as you’re okay, nothing else matters.” She pouts again, this one more because she’s not sure how to respond, her face warming from how gently he’s looking at her, gaze full of endearment. Deciding finally to just curl up to him and hide her face in his neck again, she lies there for a moment, listening to his breathing. It’s just as comforting even now, when she’s free of the things that had been worrying her. He’s just as solid against her -- just as safe.

“Can we still finish the movie?” Yoongi snickers when she mumbles the question into the crook of his neck, shaking his head.

“Yeah… my laptop’s definitely broken, babe.”

[authornina]

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 

“Nothing.” 

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 

“You need Jesus!” 

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 

“I lay with you too.” 

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted. 

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.” 

“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 

“Like what?” 

“Shit.” 

“You lyin’.” 

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 

“Who ugly, Mansion?” 

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 

“I told her that.” 

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 

“What she do that damn fast?” 

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 

“They don’t wanna see you.” 

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lesson 17

Series Masterlist

So, the aftermath’s here! This took significantly longer than I thought it would, but oh well. Enjoy everyone!

So, to recap where everyone’s favourite dysfunctional demon family are at right now: Belphie’s still guilt spiralling but he wants to make amends, MC is having a self worth crisis because of what happened, Lucifer was homicidal less than a day ago, and the rest of the brothers are very mad at Belphie.

So, a good little while passes, MC moves back into their room and doesn’t really come out or try to talk to anyone, Lucifer practically lives in his study, and Belphie holes himself up in whichever room that no one else is in.

Keep in mind, no one knows the truth about Lilith’s death yet because it never came up because MC isn’t a descendent of the human version of Lilith.

The brothers (sans Belphie) went and visited MC, who was very happy to see all of them, but everything felt kind of off, everyone was slightly on edge. But nobody brought it up because no one wanted to be the catalyst for the next big family fight, especially so soon after MC got hurt.

It had been almost a week and MC could barely cobble together the desire to leave their room. They had made themselves a prisoner in their own house right after freeing Belphie from his house arrest, how ironic is that?

Stupid…

How naive could they get? To think that just because they were family that everyone would welcome them with open arms? And how stupid would they have to be to believe that they were a proper demon like the rest of them? Demons were manipulative tricksters at their nicest, if MC didn’t understand that than they were a shit excuse for a demon.

Spending time lying in bed staring up at the ceiling wasn’t the best way to pass the time, but MC had grown tired of flicking through the same five apps on their DDD and had contemplated chucking it at the wall. With nothing to distract them, MC was alone with their thoughts.

Of course they couldn’t fend off Belphegor, of course they lost… they barely had any better a hold on their magic than they did when the year started. They weren’t a full demon, but they weren’t some weak little human either, but maybe things would have been better if they were human. If they were human, they wouldn’t have had magic, they wouldn’t have had a fighting chance at all. There would have been no shame in losing. But MC wasn’t a full human, they had their fighting chance and lost anyway.

“MC?”

Their head snapped towards the source of the voice. Through a bright gold glow, they saw an unfamiliar woman, her eyebrows were knit with concern. Not being able to muster up the energy to really be openly panicked, MC sat up and rested their head on their chin, then raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh! Um…” the ghostly woman puffed out her cheek and twiddled her fingers as her eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t exactly think this introduction through, my bad…”

It was MC’s turn to be confused, standing in front of her was a woman who didn’t look like an angel or a demon, yet somehow was able to cobble together the magical strength necessary to actually make herself visible to MC. And now, she was stressing about an awkward introduction.

“I’m Lilith!” The woman finally blurted out, she clamped her eyes shut and quickly stuck her hand out.

MC blinked at the outstretched hand like it was a completely foreign gesture. “…what?”

“Yeah! Um… I uh…” Lilith withdrew her hand and facepalmed. “I’m really sorry…”

“I-uh… Lilith? Like… Lilith, my father’s sister Lilith?”

“…yes?”

“…please explain.”

And Lilith did explain, she explained the ghost bit, how she can’t technically go up to the Celestial Realm nor does she want to, and how she’s kind of been playing guardian Fallen Angel to the entire family.

MC finally got to learn the reason the Grimoire was in the tomb, and why their father was so damn loyal to Diavolo.

Lilith also explains that she’s kind of the reason MC is down in the Devildom in the first place. Lucifer picked an entirely different totally normal human, but Lilith switched the files and MC was brought down instead.

MC still obviously had questions.

“So…” MC mumbled. “That’s why he tried to kill me.”

Lilith pursed her lips and looked away. “Yeah…”

MC let out an explosive sigh as their hand unconsciously creeped to their neck. MC’s fingers brushed over raised skin from barely healed over scratches.

“He wants to apologize.”

“What?”

“Belphie, he wants to apologize to you.”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes, they shifted over so Lilith couldn’t see their face. “Hmph… maybe if he grovels enough I won’t sic Cerberus on him…”

“You’re under no obligation to forgive him-”

“I know!” MC snapped, grinding the base of their palm against their eye to stop the tears that threatened to burst. “And I won’t!”

The problem was, Lilith’s story actually ended up making MC feel bad for him, which made them feel angry at themselves, which made them feel more upset than before.

On one hand, Belphie was motivated by the loss of someone incredibly close to him and never received closure because Lucifer kept Lilith’s “survival” a secret.

On the other hand, Belphie tricked, manipulated, and then tried to kill MC. That couldn’t just be waved off with an “oh he was just grieving”

After some deliberation, MC decided they were going to do one more thing to help Belphie.

“Father.” MC hit their knuckles against the door to their father’s room. The door opened almost immediately and Lucifer stood in the doorway.

“Yes MC? Do you need anything, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to talk to you.”

“Come in then,” Lucifer stepped aside and MC walked into the room, he closed the door behind them. “What is it?”

“I know about what happened with Lilith.”

Lucifer froze, MC did their best to hold his gaze and not waver.

“You need to tell everyone.”

“…how did you find out?”

“She um… told me. Lilith, I mean… she’s still around.” MC awkwardly twirled their finger in the air as they explained. “You’ve kept this hidden for too long, the secret has to be told so this can end.”

Lucifer wasn’t on board immediately, but eventually, he was convinced.

Everyone was gathered, including Belphie, and Lucifer explained what had really happened the day Lilith had died.

Of course there were shouts of shock and outrage that slowly melted into a melancholy silence. Lilith was still around, but her presence was so limited, but she was still there with them! Their sister was still there!

When everyone dispersed to go process the news, Belphie approached MC.

“H-hey.”

MC almost outwardly shuddered at the sound of the Avatar of Sloth’s voice, but they held firm and turned to face him.

Anything they wanted to say died in their throat as MC got a good look at Belphie for the first time in over a week. He looked like complete and utter garbage. His hair was a mess, bags lined the underside of his eyes, and his entire posture seemed to just droop like a wilting flower. Though, it wasn’t like MC had much of a platform to stand on when it came to critiquing appearance at that point in time, they looked just as awful.

“What do you want?” MC asked quietly, they had meant to put more force behind their words, but most if not all of their focus had gone towards not allowing their voice to break or waver.

“To apologize.”

So, Lilith was right, he was sorry. Rage bubbled in MC’s gut as they clenched their fist. How dare he think he could just, apologize and think everything could turn out okay?! MC opened their mouth to scream, cry, hurl every insult they had spent the previous week thinking about, but nothing came out. The anger subsided and MC deflated, they crossed their arms and gestured for Belphie to go ahead.

“Go on.” They mumbled.

Belphie’s gaze drifted to the wall, he clenched his pillow tighter to his chest, then looked back to MC. At least he had the decency to look them in the eye.

“I’m sorry for what I did, MC. I messed up and I hurt you. I blamed you for something you had nothing to do with, even though you were nothing but nice to me. No excuse would make what I did any better, so I’m… I’m sorry…”

MC gnawed on their lower lip and knitted their eyebrows. He sounded sincere enough, but MC wasn’t just going to roll over and forgive him just like that. They were still so angry and betrayed, but they didn’t want to be. Stupid feelings…

They took a deep breath and squared their shoulders, looking Belphie directly in the eyes.

“Okay.”

“…okay?”

“Okay.” MC repeated. “I’m not going to forgive you just to absolve your guilt, but I’m done with this. It’s over and I’m moving on. If you’re really sorry, don’t ever do something like that again.”

The tiniest glimmer of hope sparkled in Belphie’s eyes as he nodded. “I swear on my life I’ll never do anything like that again.”

MC stiffly nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to my room. I have school tomorrow.”

When Belphie turned to go back to his room, Lucifer melted out of the shadows and stood next to MC.

“That was very big of you.”

“Thanks father.” MC mumbled.

“Are you sure you want to go to school tomorrow? I can ask Lord Diavolo to extend your time off.”

“No,” MC shook their head. “I’m ready. Besides,” They stifled a giggle. “I don’t want to miss everyone’s reactions to Human History.”

Wanting to watch demons freak out about weird parts of human history is a very valid reason to want to go to school.

Anyway, all eight residents of the HOL goes back to school, and MC’s cover story was that they had gotten the flu and was too sick to go to school, and Belphie had been brought back from the human world early. No one had the balls to question the seven rulers of hell, so no one asked any questions.

Luke was very excited to see his friend again, so excited that he got in trouble for talking in class. No big deal, lunchtime was still free for them to talk!

The day was perfectly normal, which was a blessing for everyone.

Diavolo officially deemed that Belphie was no longer a threat to the exchange program, so Belphie was allowed to return to his student council duties without issue.

Things between Diavolo and Barbatos and MC were quite… confusing.

For one thing, Diavolo was the crown prince and MC had really liked him before the stuff in the previous timeline and learning about exactly how he had secured their father’s loyalty.

And for Barbatos… he was just fucking terrifying.

“MC!”

The sound of Diavolo jovially calling their name jolted MC out of their thoughts. Thinking about the upcoming Demonology midterm would have to wait.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” MC knew better than to be openly pissed at the soon to be monarch, especially after everything that had transpired.

“Are you doing alright, MC? How has school been treating you?” Diavolo continued to pepper MC with questions with barely any gaps for MC to actually reply. Barbatos stood on the sidelines with a soft neutral smile on his face, which only served to unnerve MC more.

“I’m doing fine, Lord Diavolo. There’s no need for concern.”

Diavolo’s rampant questioning came to a stop, and MC swore they could see his expression fall ever so slightly.

“I’m glad to hear that, MC. If you need anything, just ask!”

He ended the interaction with a hesitant pat on MC’s head before walking off to his next class. Though, the presence of the butler still loomed behind MC.

“While I’m very glad you’re well, MC,” Barbatos said icily calm. “I must ask that you refrain from going into my room again.”

“Y-yes sir.” MC mumbled.

“Have a lovely day.”

Reason why everyone should be at least a little afraid of Barbatos #473

The relationship between MC and the Royals does end up getting repaired eventually, it’s just… really awkward for the time being.

Home was still awkward as all hell, the murder attempt definitely weakened the brotherly bonds MC had spent months repairing, and the hostility wasn’t doing MC’s emotional recovery much good.

“This is ridiculous.” Lilith’s voice popped into MC’s head while they sat at the dining table finishing up their homework. MC jumped slightly in their seat and frantically looked around for their aunt’s apparition.

“What’s got you spooked?” Satan asked from his place across the table.

“N-nothing. Just a chill.” MC quickly replied, trying to go back to their work.

“Nice recovery, MC. Very smooth.”

“Shut up!” MC thought. “What are you doing in my head?”

“If you want me to leave, just say so.” Lilith’s nasally childlike huff nearly caused MC to openly roll their eyes.

“No, what is it? What do you need?”

“I don’t really need anything, but look at this fractured house!” Lilith cried. “This is worse than the time Mammon stole everyone’s pocket watches!”

“Pocket…watches?”

“It was 1803, get with the program, MC.”

“Lilith, what are we talking about here?”

“Oh! Right! Well, this house is insanely divided and sucky right now, it’s terrible!” Lilith whined, as much as MC hated to submit to their ghostly aunt’s whining, she did have a point.

Just that morning Asmo just happened to neglect to paint Belphie’s nails when he went out of his way just minutes earlier to track down Lucifer to make sure his nails were painted. Later when Belphie walked into the library with Beel, Satan ended up picking up the cat and walking straight out. Satan walking out of a library was like a fish walking out of water.

That wasn’t the only thing either, Mammon had taken it upon himself to be a human (or demon to be more precise) barrier between Belphie and MC at almost all times. The only times when Mammon couldn’t do that was when the witches decided to summon him.

Levi continued to be a recluse, but on the rare occasion he did come out, there was no friendly hellos between him and Belphie.

Lucifer… well, he did a good job hiding his contempt. He had respected MC’s decision to let Belphie try and fix things and he himself seemed eager for everything to be fixed, but he wasn’t exactly aiding in the repairs. Every time he had to look at Belphie it was so expressionless that MC swore that Mammon could swipe someone’s wallet right in front of him and Lucifer wouldn’t even frown.

Even Beel, he bounced back the quickest in terms of being ready to be around Belphie again, but the even psychically linked twins couldn’t fully shake the feeling of distance between the two.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Last time I tried to fix this family’s problems I almost died.”

“H-hey, I don’t think you should joke about that just yet…”

“Bite me. I wasn’t joking.”

“Well… okay. But I can’t really manifest any power right now! Smacking some sense into Belphie really took a toll on my ability to do much.”

“Hmph…” MC thought long and hard, well, two minutes long. “We could hold a movie night.”

Lilith gasped and MC swore they could hear the sound of her clapping her hands together. “Yes! Everyone can hang out and eat popcorn! Oh it’ll be great! Build a Fort! Forts bring people closer together!”

The movie night was the first of many little get togethers that MC quietly orchestrated to get everyone back on speaking terms with each other. They weren’t a direct part of all of them, but they could see the good they were doing.

A small video game tournament, going out to eat together, just relaxing in the same room, all of it added up, and sooner rather than later everyone was back to… not hating each other.

The brothers are still brothers after all, there’s always that tiny instinct that tells siblings to try and ruin the other’s day

As for Belphie and MC’s relationship…

Things slowly but surely moved back to the way they were before. MC came out of their room to sit with everyone and hang out, everyone progressively let Belphie back into their lives, and the nightmares gradually lessened.

For the first time in a little over a month and a half, MC felt truly safe again, which was odd considering they were in their planetarium with someone who they declared they’d never forgive. They still hadn’t, but things had gotten better.

Belphie was doing his damndest to show that he was truly sorry about everything. It started off with small things; helping MC clean the house, giving them pencils when they didn’t have any, covering for them when they had dinner duty,

The little victories may not have seemed very noteworthy, but to Belphie and MC, they were everything.

“That’s Orion, that’s Orion’s Belt,” Belphie pointed up at the shifting ceiling of the planetarium, tracing each and every constellation that he saw and pointing them out to MC and Beel. The latter had seen these stars and heard Belphie’s explanations a thousand times over, but never tired of them. MC was staring up at the gorgeous sight of the human world night sky they had left behind with a small smile on their face.

“That’s Ursa Major,” Beel pointed up as he offered MC the bag of chips he was eating.

“Mhm,” Belphie quietly chirped, he then pointed to a nearby constellation. “And that’s Ursa Minor.”

“Huh, if you connect these stars, it looks like a pair of pants.” MC piped up, tracing the set of stars.

Belphie snickered and nodded. “Yeah, it kind of does.”

“Look, that one’s a spatula!” Beel pointed at a constellation, Belphie snorted and facepalmed.

“Beel, Buddy, that’s the Little Dipper.”

After a little while longer Belphie let out an explosive yawn and stretched out like a cat. MC and Beel yawned in response.

“I’m goin’ to sleep.”

“Belphie wait,” MC giggled. “You can’t sleep here!”

“Watch me.”

“You’ll get a sore back, Belphie.” Beel picked up Belphie and slung him over his shoulder as the Avatar of sloth began to snore, he then turned and sat MC on his other shoulder. “Bedtime for everyone.”

MC let out another yawn and rubbed their eyes. Maybe Belphie had the right idea, it was late as hell…

——————

Author’s Note: You ever know how you want something to turn out in your head, but the moment you go to write it down you kind of want to yeet yourself into oblivion? Yeah that’s what happened here.

The game itself didn’t give me much to work with in terms of how everyone would react if MC didn’t shrug off their near death, so… 🤷‍♀️ oh well! What’s done is done!