#code antithesis

[lilith-devi-nyx-elsword-theorist]

the rest, sorry. they're interesting.

[yuugaodraws]

Added more, not sure if I like or not. Digital might be the way to go with her.

[thegirlsarethriving]

just finished undertale. ok i see the vision. i now understand yall's Sans-to-Benrey obsession pipeline. and the Papyrus-to-Tommy Coolatta pipeline

[mariasont]

JUST THE TIP(S) - A.H

aaron learns the hard way that upping your maintenance allowance has unexpected, explicit perks. especially when you insist on showcasing your newest investment while he's stuck miles away.

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexting, nsfw imagery, exhibitionism? (in the form of pictures), references to masturbation, workplace inappropriateness, power dyanmics (boss/employee), dirty talk, sugar daddy hotch vibes wc: 1.7k request: here!

Hotch attempts to read the file in front of him again, just to keep himself busy, but it starts to resemble gibberish somewhere between the countless victim timelines and his unwavering staring contest with the phone screen. 

Nothing. Still nothing. 

It’s been, he glances down for confirmation, thirty-nine minutes since he hit send. Not exactly long enough to panic. Yet here he is, panicking, because your replies normally land instantly, punctuated with frantic emojis, a parade of exclamation points, and nonsensical crises like:

i just made toast and almost caught my sleeve on fire but it’s ok now !!!! 🤭

So, yeah. Thirty-nine minutes feels like a small eternity.

Last week, he had upped your spending limit. You murmured something vague about having a bad day. You didn’t supply any specifics, no dramatics, just an innocent observation that he instantly took as an urgent call to action.

He logged into your account and adjusted your monthly extras, expanding that little safety net you didn’t even know he color-coded as you-time on his accounting spreadsheet. 

It wasn’t even remotely about the actual money. How could it be, when you were always giving pieces of yourself away — filling his silence with your easy chatter, kissing his frown lines, leaving perfume on his pillow (and everywhere else). So if a few extra hundred dollars meant more wellness appointments or a couple frivolous purchases that could help you feel more like yourself, it was the easiest, most obvious choice in the world. 

This is what he attributed your lack of response to. You’re probably out using that buffer right now.

He doesn’t need to spiral.

But he does anyway. Because when he’s not around, you have a tendency to forget to hydrate, to neglect to eat anything remotely nutritious, to lose yourself in shiny distractions, and his mind, unfortunately, never seems to shut off where you’re concerned.

He digs the heel of his hand into his forehead, trying not to jump to worst-case scenarios. He’s not clingy. Definitely not the kind of boyfriend who sends another text after less than an hour. 

Still, he nudges his phone a bit closer, strictly precautionary.

It takes exactly fifteen more agonizing, anxiety-inducing minutes — minutes shaped like big neon question marks — before the phone finally buzzes.

You: hi bossman !! miss ur grumpy face sooooo bad it’s criminal (arrest me??) how’s the case?

He exhales through his nose. His first thought is to correct you, to say that he’s definitely not grumpy, but his fingers pause, and he erases it instead. 

He is grumpy, though he’s fairly certain it’s directly correlated with how long it’s been since he’s since your face.

Hotch: Miss you too. Case is fine. Hopefully wrapping soon. Should be home late tomorrow. What did you do today? Everything okay?

You: yay !! can’t wait to see u ! got my nails done �� they’re sparkly pink and sooo cute wanna see?

He snorts once, rubbing his thumb over the edge of his phone.

Hotch: Somehow I already know exactly what they look like.

He pauses, considers, then quickly adds,

Hotch: Send them anyway.

Hotch expects something wholesome, mundane even, manicure displayed prettily around a cup of overpriced coffee (a staple for you) or maybe the steering wheel of your car. 

What he receives instead is categorically, devastatingly the antithesis of wholesome. Completely unfit for polite company. His phone nearly plummets to the floor accordingly, eyebrows already halfway to his hairline.

Your new nails, as glittery as you advertised and innocent enough in isolation, become fully obscene in context, pussy spread wide, your fingertips highlighting slick, swollen folds and a flushed, glistening clit practically begging for attention. 

Hotch has always considered you beautiful — insanely, impossibly so — but this vision of you. A vision where you’re open, soaked with a brazen sweetness that borders on indecent, surpasses beauty entirely.

It’s sinful, artful perfection crafted with the sole intent of his demise. No matter how quickly he closes his eyes, the image is now seared permanently into his brain, burnt onto his retinas in dripping pixels.

Hotch never could fathom why anyone would willingly risk sending something so compromising. It spat in the face of good judgment and flagrantly ignored every articulated piece of advice he’d ever given. He’d lectured until your eyes glazed over about internet safety, how every text you send is stored indefinitely in some obscure digital archive, potentially retrieved at the most inopportune times. 

He was certain, perhaps arrogantly so, that you’d internalized his paranoia.

How wrong he had been.

Because he now stands staring at the evidence of your rebellion, humbly acknowledging that he himself has become precisely the sort of fool he’d warned you about, happily entrapped by the irreverence of a single photograph.

The only genuine risk Aaron can currently recognize is the frankly painful strain of his cock pressing against his zipper and the fact that you’re hundreds of miles away. 

He draws in a sharp, shaky breath through gritted teeth, silently pleading with unapologetically indifferent cosmos to grant him patience. 

Or teleportation.

Hotch: Gorgeous nails, sweetheart. Clever use of your resources, though next time save me the torture and just show me in person.

You: glad u like them 😇😇 maybe consider it motivation to hurry home faster?

Hotch: Duly noted. If I close this case in record time, you’ll know exactly why.

You: i can always send additional inspiration if it helps your productivity 🥰

He doesn’t remember making the conscious decision, and frankly, he doesn’t care enough to second-guess it now, because his palm is already moving, instinctively pressing down to relieve the unbearable tension straining his trousers.

He’s halfway through typing out his surrender (a blunt, undignified Yes. Now.) when a sudden, sharp knock jerks him brusquely back into a reality that pales considerably compared to what he’s just been forced to abandon.

His thumb stalls above the send button then pockets the phone, exhaling through his nose as he smooths the front of his tie with a touch more vigor than necessary.

If he were honest, and lately honesty seems unavoidable, another second spent alone with your message would inevitably lead him to doing something highly inappropriate beneath the desk, your name hissed quietly against clenched teeth.

By the time he reaches the door, Hotch has resigned a reasonable facsimile of composure.

At least from the waist up.

He cracks the door open cautiously, standing at an awkward, stiff angle, hoping that Rossi won’t notice the disarray happening beneath his belt.

“Local PD's still caught up arguing procedural technicalities,” Rossi drawls, seemingly unaware. “Apparently, nothing moves forward without our explicit approval.”

You’ll have to wait. And so will his dick.

The so-called procedural technicalities take three hours. Three. hours. One hundred and eighty increasingly insufferable minutes drowning in bureaucratic drudgery, combing through details Hotch is positive he could recite while heavily medicated. He pinches the bridge of his nose, attempting to fend off the migraine steadily encroaching.

He’d managed the polite, dutiful thing — a succinct, thoroughly unsatisfying reply to you about responsibility and paperwork, the kind of message that made his own eyes roll at its dreariness compared to your far more compelling offer.

And now, each monotonous signature is underscored by thoughts of you, each image progressively more not-safe-for-work than the last.

He pictures your nails, painted in that damned color you loved so much, wrapping firmly around his cock, stroking with leisurely hands. How good it would feel. How you would lean closer with thay look in your eyes, lips parted, whispering filthy words that would make the tips of his ears bleed red.

He loved spoiling you, sure, but secretly, selfishly, he knew the real reward came later, when your fingertips traced up and down each vein of his length.

His daydream splinters to pieces as another officer delivers a statement so inane, Hotch considers, with alarming sincerity, the merits of repeatedly banging his head against the wall.

Before he can fully commit to a public crisis of faith in his career choices, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Stupidly, he sneaks a quick look,

You: bet that paperwork has you wound up tight. when u get home, feel free to fuck out all that frustration. im yours however u want me <3

Hotch snaps his phone off with such force he’s briefly amazed the device doesn’t shatter.

He redirects his gaze at the neat rows of law enforcement jargon before him, willing the flush spreading from his neck to his ears to retreat. He’s knows he’s past the age of blushing fits, but apparently, you delight in reminding him otherwise.

Hotch’s eyes briefly skim the room, double-checking that the rest of his team is sufficiently absorbed in their tasks.

Hotch: I sincerely hope you’re prepared to stand by that offer, he sends back, thumb tapping a bit faster. Because I fully intend to take advantage of your generosity. 

The familiar little bubbles of an incoming message appear almost immediately, punctuated seconds later by the ping of an attachment.

Hotch reopens the thread, only to be met with an image of your pretty hands cupping even prettier breasts.

Suddenly, he’s standing, brisk strides carrying him toward the hallway, a curt, excuse me tossed hastily behind him, already pressing your contact photo before the door swings fully shut behind him.

You answer on the first ring. “Hi there, handsome. Calling to check on me?”

Your voice, dripping with honeyed naivety, and the image of your tits still pulsing insistently behind his eyelids, sends an immediate rush of heat southward.

Hotch grits his teeth, resisting the temptation to flee toward the bathroom for a quick release.

“Do you really think you’re being fair to me? While I’m stuck here, of all places?”

“Fairness is subjective. Personally, I think it’s unfair you’re so far away when I clearly need your expert opinion on this manicure.”

“Expert opinions are usually best delivered in person. Very hands-on.”

Your giggle spills through the line, and Hotch is convinced it should be bottled and sold as medicine. How he managed to win the privilege of hearing it on demand is an eternal mystery.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you whisper, “is this how you typically behave at the office, or am I getting special treatment today?”

“You’re permanently on the receiving end of special treatment.”

Another giggle.

“Well, I fully intend to cash in on that privilege when you get home, and I advise your neighbors to consider getting some top-quality earplugs.”

He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to mask the fidgeting as purposeful adjustment. Unsuccessfully, of course. He can feel Morgan’s stare burning pointedly into the side of his head. Honestly, if roles were reversed, Aaron would probably be offering equally unsubtle judgment.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, lowering his voice, “you’re making it exceedingly difficult to pretend this call is work-related.”

“Fine, fine,” you say. “Go play nice with your friends and come home safely. I miss you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as humanly possible.” He inwardly rolls his eyes at his inability to maintain any credible authority with you. “Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

“No promises.” He can picture the smile on your face. “But I’ll do my best to keep your investment safe, these nails weren’t cheap, after all.”

“Careful. Because when I get home, I won’t be gentle enough to guarantee their safety.”

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[saryasy]

explicitly and actively making sure to exclude widely headcanoned as queer and heavily queer-coded characters (a nonwhite character at that) from fandom pride celebrations is not the flex you think it is. canon has never been an issue when headcanoning characters as queer, especially because of how rarely explicit a character is made to be queer. and these characters have always been celebrated and loved as queer. but apparently once it's a character endangering your ship, it's policing identities time. the fucking antithesis of queerness btw

[valenteal]

The story of Anakin Skywalker is about how anyone can break under enough pressure. It isn’t a tragedy about an inevitable doom, it isn’t about how power corrupts or about how caring is dangerous. It’s about how no matter how good and kind and selfless and seemingly invincible someone is they still have needs and they can still be hurt.

Maybe this is because Phantom Menace is my favorite Star Wars movie and so I have rewatched it a million times, but for me Anakin is the most genuinely caring and selfless character in Star Wars. He wasn’t just an innocent kid (kids can be cruel and selfish and they’re usually better when they grow up not worse) he was compassionate and kind and despite growing up surrounded by some of the worst scum in the galaxy he knew nothing of greed. That says so much about his character.

Anakin’s fall to the dark side took over a decade of carful manipulation that culminated in cascade of tragedy and loss. It wasn’t an accident. Every bit of the emotional trauma, physical trauma, and mental trauma from the moment Anakin met Palpatine and on ward was planned. We don’t see the decade he spent between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones but immediately in the second movie we see how much Anakin has changed. Where he used to be confident he’s insecure, where he used to bold and fearless he is now arrogant, where he was once inquisitive he is now cautiously enthusiastic, where he used to build he now destroys. Every change in his behavior and outlook is the result of either the teachings of the Jedi Order which are pretty much the antithesis of his entire personality, the result of Sidious’s manipulation, or the result of the toxic attitudes of many Jedi towards him.

Now I know a lot of people have… misconceptions about what the Jedi Order is and what they stand for. It’s understandable, since I guess a lot of people think of Luke as an everything a Jedi is supposed to be but he is NOT, he wasn’t even taught their philosophy! Yoda and Windu and Luminara are everything a Jedi is meant to be. They take an impersonal approach to justice, they treat others coldly, they believe themselves to be above petty things like emotion and pain and human connection. There are Jedi who take a more progressive stance like Obi-Wan and Quinlan and Qui-Gon but you have to understand that they are not model Jedi and have their own struggles with the Order and its teachings. The Jedi code literally says “There is no emotion.” That is what Jedi strive for. And that isn’t even getting into the genocide or the politics. Focusing on how this affected Anakin. That’s what I’m doing.

Anyway, Anakin is a deeply emotional person. This is not a bad thing. It’s the source of his conviction and his empathy (which a surprising amount of Jedi lack). Anakin feels deeply, so he feels love and anger and sadness more keenly than Jedi who have worked their whole lives to shut off emotion. And he was never taught how to deal with it. The most the Jedi did was tell him to meditate, release his emotions into the Force, focus on the present or other platitudes that do not help! I would know. I’m also a deeply emotional person who feels things very keenly to the point where I had a full psychological evaluation when I was 6 years old. When a person deals with this it NEEDS to be addressed. I have wonderful parents who did everything in their power to help me from a young age and I still ended up suicidal! Anakin did not get help and was instead shamed for feeling so strongly and he ended up bottling it up. People complain about how he was “whiny” and I (a person who has also been called whiny) just go what the fuck do you expect?? Expressing his frustration verbally is literally the healthiest option he has! And we know what it looks like when he chooses other forms of venting! Anakin vented to Padmé almost immediately after reconnecting with her because she is literally the only person in his life who will listen to him (other than Sidious but he makes things worse on purpose).

So yeah. Sensitive people need to be taught how to deal with their emotions in healthy ways. Really everyone does but especially people with strong emotions.

But when Anakin isn’t overwhelmed by emotions he doesn’t have the tools to deal with, or surrounded by toxic people, or being actively manipulated by an evil dictator, that’s when you see who he really is. Which means pretty much all of Phantom Menace, a good chunk of the time he’s alone with Padmé, and… nothing else really. (I’m just going to say here that I am not including Clone Wars Anakin due to the purposeful butchering of his character. I still consider the show canon in everything but Anakin’s characterization in a lot of specific instances.)

Anakin has never been a selfish person. The things people perceive as selfish are his needs. He needs unconditional love. He needs Padmé because she is the only person who gives him that. Even without getting into his psychology and bpd and what a splitting episode is, it isn’t hard to recognize that when he places Padmé’s safety above other people’s it’s an act of self preservation more than self interest. He knows that he would literally go crazy without her. After years of being systematically isolated and traumatized she is the only thing keeping him together. In his desperation to save her and consequently his own sanity he lost both those things. But it’s important to note that he tried to do things right, that he went to Yoda for help, that he told Padmé so she could take her own steps to ensure her health. He did everything he could think of before getting desperate enough to go to Sidious. Not to mention he did everything right after discovering Sidious’s identity. It wasn’t until he was presented with a false dichotomy that boiled down to choosing his mentor and confidant of over a decade and his wife’s life or the man who has scored and distrusted him since he was child that he made the objectively wrong choice. And that was after not sleeping for weeks and having a traumatizing realization that triggered a splitting episode so he wasn’t in a head space to understand what was going on in an objective way.

So yeah. That’s my rant about Anakin Skywalker. If you want to comment or debate know that I will reply with an explanation of my thoughts that could be just as long as this post and that I will not stop until you do. You will not get the last word. I feel very strongly about this and if you’ve gotten this far you have to know that I have thought very deeply about this as well. I have heard every argument. You will not change my mind. I have done research. Engaging with this post to disagree will only lead to me expanding on this even more because this is really a brief summary of all my thoughts and feelings on the matter. If you’re just curious about the rest of my thoughts and feelings just ask.

Don’t try to attack my own morals and character because of this, I am NOT condoning Anakin’s actions or behavior, I am completely aware that he is a deeply damaged and unstable person. The point of this is not to deny that but to explain why Anakin is not naturally like that. The scariest thing about Anakin’s fall is that it happened to Anakin, a paragon of compassion and selflessness. Anyone put under the amount of pressure he was would go crazy. I doubt many people would last as long as Anakin did. He was insanely strong to resist for as long as he did.

[pearlessance]

【ＣＯＭＰＩＬＩＮＧ　 ＭＡＳＴＥＲＬＩＳＴ．．．】

☆ ｔｈｅ　ｌａｓｔ　ｏｆ　ｕｓ☆

↳ Joel Miller

⤷ Our Little Secret - dbf!Joel pre-outbreak

Joel Miller deals with disgusting intrusive thoughts about the girl next door who smells like vanilla and uses cherry chapstick. [part one][part two] - read on AO3!

⤷ Moral Modification - JacksonEra!Joel - written for @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend <3

When you decide to pierce your nipples, Joel Miller breaks his moral code to lend a helping hand. read on AO3!

⤷ A Dance In The Dark - Joel x f!Reader

Joel puts on a mask and chases you through the woods. read on AO3! [cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend]

⤷ Three's A Crowd - Joel x Reader x Tommy

Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. read on AO3!

⤷ Lust Among Thieves - Joel x Reader x Tommy

Survival is a skill that everyone had to gain after the world ended. Your father was killed in the Boston QZ, leaving you alone and forced to survive all on your lonesome. Just to eat, you had to steal from strangers, but unfortunately, you picked two of the worst people to target. What you didn’t expect was the lust that steadily built between all three of you. read on AO3! [cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend]

⤷ I'll Crawl Home to Her - husband!Joel x wife!Reader

All the ways Joel Miller loves his pretty little wife. And all the ways she loves him right back. read on AO3!

⤷ Beneath the Armor - Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel Miller has been the center of all the gossip in the trailer park since he tragically lost his daughter. He's short-tempered and mean as hell, his hostility no doubt spurred on by that beer he always has in hand. But when you need a ride to work and he's your last resort, you come to find he's much more than what meets the eye. [cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend][part one] [part two] [read on AO3!]

↳ Tommy Miller

⤷ Fishnet's and Old Fashioned's - pre-outbreak, goth!bartender!reader

Tommy Miller wants a big titty goth gf and isn't above begging on his knees to get one. [part one] [part two] or read on AO3!

⤷ Three's A Crowd - Tommy x Reader x Joel

Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. read on AO3!

⤷ Lust Among Thieves - Joel x Reader x Tommy

Survival is a skill that everyone had to gain after the world ended. Your father was killed in the Boston QZ, leaving you alone and forced to survive all on your lonesome. Just to eat, you had to steal from strangers, but unfortunately, you picked two of the worst people to target. What you didn’t expect was the lust that steadily built between all three of you. [part one] [part two] read on AO3! [cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend]

☆ 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 ☆

⤷ Idle Threats - JacksonEra!Joel Miller [COMPLETED]

Joel has watch duty with Jackson's twenty year old, smart mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for. [series masterlist] read on AO3!

☆ ｊｕｊｕｔｓｕ　ｋａｉｓｅｎ ☆

↳ Nanami Kento

⤷ Killshot, Baby! - brat tamer!Nanami x fem!Reader

nanami kento is a meticulous man; calm, stable, and precise. a perfect antithesis to your messy, impulsive ways. the longer you're around him, the more you're convinced you'll never agree on anything. well…except for the way you fuck. [series masterlist] [read on AO3!]

↳ Gojo Satoru

⤷ Daddy's Home! - bestfriend!Gojo x fem!Reader

Gojo makes up where your new boyfriend falls short small.

[yuugaodraws]

I may be obsessed with the new Eve class

[silviastoll]

clarisse's actress is beautiful and while i do wish she was butch or more masc presenting, in some ways i actually like this better for her overall characterization because it brings more validity to the fact that she desperately wants her fathers love but she is not her father's son and so she'll never be enough for him, because she's not big and strong looking or gruff, she is everything she hates.

Like yes, im sorta sad she wasn't cast plus size and masc like how she was coded in the books. But having her be the antithesis of what Ares would value makes her being a bully and so angry and so desperate to prove herself that much more compelling

[bowsnstrings]

30 For 30!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character ✌️🏾

Summary: After meeting once again in the club, Milana allows Ony to come to her home in one surprising effort to explore her feelings. However, will she be able to get out of her own head enough to really let him in?

Warning MDNI!: Mentions of dealing, Mentions of bullying, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist: 🍃

Word Count: 5.2k

Milana never felt like she had it easy, not in school, life, or relationships. Always the odd one out, always picked on, heavily, from elementary through college. Too short, too fat, too dark, too weird, told to her on repeat her entire life. It wasn’t even until this year that she could tell herself she was “pretty”, and even then she didn’t believe it herself. Just going through life keeping her head down in her journal, expressing herself through words, until she found herself stuck in the lap of her antithesis.

Ever since then, it’s like she’s seeing him everywhere. Haunting her with that name and his smile like his smug, arrogant, handsome, behind knew a joke that she didn’t. Driving her home with that roguish glint to his eye, and his sultry mouth casually calling her, “Mama”. Forcing her into thinking crazy immature thoughts, asking herself over and over if he’d want her, if he’d call her, did he really even give her his real phone number?

It all went quiet went she saw him in the club, not expecting to see him in a million years. So skittish, barely even speaking while with him, too scared she’d say the wrong thing, but when he pulled in front of her door everything felt so electric. How polite he was, much less teasing than when in public, such a perfect gentleman. He even walked her to her door, didn’t ask to come inside, but told her to have a good night in the warmest voice she’d ever heard.

Watching him begin to walk away was hard, but she truly believed whatever he thought was going to happen would never go anywhere. They were just too different. He was sociable, well liked, popular, and she was well… introverted. Deep within her own shell to the point where it was hard to even get out of bed some days.

“Wait!”

Yes, she was shy and reserved, but tired of being lonely. Standing in her doorway with her face down towards her feet, seeing him turn on his heel and observe her silently, his eyes hopeful as they strained to see her. The light from her home poured in behind her, giving her an almost angel-like glow. “You shouldn’t drive at this hour. It’s-that isn’t safe.”

Was she offering what he thought she was? His lips curving further upwards, a hand coming to rub at his jaw as he thought it through for a moment, not expecting her to cave in so quickly like this. “Just for the night.” Her voice was the prettiest thing he’d ever heard, and he knew that he’d do whatever she asked.

“Alright.” Trying his hardest not to go running back to her front door, he sauntered his way over to where she was standing, looking down at how she bit her lip in the most sultry tantalizing way imaginable. His hands itched to reach out and touch her again, but he didn’t want to spook her away after getting this far. “Lead the way, Mama.”

With all the blankets from her spare closet, and extra pillows she could find, Milana made a palette for him to sleep on the couch with. Ony eyeing her from across the room as she almost fluttered around her home, chatting to herself and Oreo as she got everything ready for him. Her spoiled cat sitting in its bed, purring when she stopped to pet him, and meowing for attention as soon as she left.

Her sofa smelled just like her, enveloping him in her scent as soon as he sat down, getting the worst urge to turn and bury his face in her pillows. Ony had slept on a lot of couches before, moving home to home throughout his childhood, a ward of the state since before the age of ten. He’s even had to sleep on some floors in his lifetime, but this had to be the only time sleeping on a sofa brought a smile to his face.

He had almost fallen asleep too fast, staying up to wish her a good night as she retreated into her room to change and get to bed. Ony laying down in a white tee and his black sweats, his hoodie, chain, and shoes laying in a neat pile by his feet. He threw his beanie in the same heap, showing off his waves and low taper fade as he put his head into the satin pillow she provided for him. His eyes fluttering shut embarrassingly quick as he sighed in contentment.

It’s been a long time since he’d gotten some good sleep, feeling so warm and cozy, he almost forgot who’s home he was in. Getting comfortable, his mind wandered, thinking of ways to pay her back for this. Her gentleness and surprising hospitality with no strings attached made him feel human. Something you definitely don’t feel a lot when you deal.

Milana on the other hand had a hard time going to sleep, jumping out of bed every five minutes to check on Ony and make sure he didn’t need anything. To be honest, for her first time having a guy over, she panicked a lot more silently than she thought she would. Clutching Oreo to herself as she tried to lay back and relax, imagining it was just her at home with no one to worry about. God, why did she do this?

She didn’t even know why she found him so.. intimidating. It’s like he wore his emotions so clearly and yet, she still couldn’t decipher what he wanted out of her. To play some game? Get her hopes up just to drop her down slowly? What kind of cruel prank was he playing to where he seemed even slightly interested in her? There wasn’t any clue she could come up with, instead falling asleep, racking her brain for the answer.

The morning sun was the first thing to touch her, well, the sun and Oreo’s paw as he tried to make biscuits on her face. Nice try, little devil. She couldn’t stay mad at him for long though, cuddling him close and smoothing her hands down his shiny fur, getting up with a long stretch and dopey smile.

Going out was fun, but waking up in bed after a night out was much better, her mind clearer and ready for some rest and relaxation. Sliding on her glasses, she slowly moved about getting up for the day, glowing under the bright bathroom lights as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Taking out her wrap, she let her hair fall down in waves, taking her time to part it correctly down the middle and brush down any fly aways with her hard bristle brush.

As her mind played catch up, she didn’t even realize Ony was supposed to be there. Instead, she was trying to remember to feed her cat, find her keys, and think about what to wear today all at once, coming face to face with an empty sofa. Oh, that was… surprising? Disappointing too, but what could she really say? She was upset that a man she hardly knew wasn’t still in her home the morning after going out? Her body sagging with a heavy feeling, feeling stupid, he probably acted like this for every girl to get a free place to sleep.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on it, Oreo practically nipping at her ankles to be fed already. Eyes scanning the room as she poured some dry salmon mix into his bowl, noticing the way Ony had to have folded all her blankets nice and neat, placing the pillows on top. At least he was kind enough to do that, even if it’s a little rude to just rush out in the morning. Who knows, he might’ve had to leave to go do some drops, earn his living she supposed.

The sound of her door opening had her reacting more than preparing for a possible intruder, dropping the bag of food and clutching her pajama top in a panic. Oreo was happy as ever, jumping head first into the forgotten bag to get some extra food as Ony stepped through the door, ducking through with his hood up and head down. A huge sigh of relief leaving her as soon as their eyes met and realization eased her frightened state away.

He looked amused already, laughing at the way Oreo’s tail swished out the opening, knocking a few pieces to the floor before he was picked up and placed on the ground in front of his bowl. His cheeks were filled with food, not even able to meow as she scolded him gently, looking at Ony out the corner of her eye as he made his way over.

He was still in his clothes from last night, but his chain and grillz inside his car, his beanie too, not so flashy or dressed up anymore. “Hey.” He said all drowsy like he wanted to get back in bed, which is all he secretly wished to do. Sofa or not, that was some good sleep, and he’d be damned if that was the last time he’d be up in here catching some “Z’s”. Already looking through the crack in her door to assess how big her bed was, and how they’d both fit.

“Hey,” Milana stood up fast, shooting up to put some distance between them and rush to the kitchen. “Did you sleep well? I know a couch isn’t super comfortable, but I can get some breakfast started to make up for it? What do you like, toast, eggs, bacon-” As soon as she opened her fridge, the emptiness of it shocked her right out of her rambling, standing in front of it feeling like an idiot for forgetting to buy groceries. “Uhh…”

“How did you sleep?” He cut in, making his way behind her to see what she was looking at. Hmm, that wasn’t going to fly around here, how long had she been without food in her fridge?

“Good. I slept, okay. How about you?” Closing the door, Milana turned on her heels to give him a sincere smile. She really thought he was gone, that whatever she had been feeling, whatever was happening between them was over. He only smiled back at her when he saw how genuinely happy she looked, and he felt…something. If this how she’d react every time he came back to her, then he could definitely get used to the feeling.

“Best sleep of my life. Hands down. I gotta pay you back for that, take you out for breakfast.” He asserted, trying to convey as much feeling as he could behind his words. He truly meant every single one, he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t, but now Ony needed her to need him back. Give her something to appreciate after she had done so much for him in such little time.

“Okay, sure.” Did she really believe he’d want to be seen in public with her? No, but it was the thought that counts, and the fact that he was nice enough to offer made her blindly agree.

“Right now.”

Now? What was this boy talking about? All she did was put down some blankets so he didn’t have to drive at nearly three in the morning, and offer a breakfast that she didn’t have. Still, it was more than Ony had gotten in a while, and he was determined to stay around her for as long as he could. “Right- But- I’m not dressed, and-” Trying to think of an excuse wouldn’t work here, especially with the way he was shutting down her overworking mind.

“You can get dressed, I’ll wait. I know this great spot downtown, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” He was serious too. Arms crowding her until all she could focus on was the way he looked, how his rich brown eyes told more of a story than his words ever did, pleading silently. His lips pressed in a tight line, looking at her expectantly as she just stood there, not knowing what to do. That’s alright, from now on, he’d be helping out around here until she understood what happens when you take in a stray.

“I’ll just… be a second.” That was all she could settle on, turning around to help get Ony set up in her bathroom as he followed her silently, trailing a few paces just like Oreo was. She found him a spare red toothbrush she had in her cabinet in case friends spent the night. The thing would’ve been collecting dust if he hadn’t used it anyway, along with a loofah she found buried in her towel closet. She left out some coconut and shea butter body wash she found as well, the scent as androgynous as possible since she didn’t think he’d be fond of smelling like sugar or cake.

He left his clothes with her to wash so he didn’t have to go all the way home, throwing them in for a quick cycle while she went off to leave him be. Using the hot water to ground him in his thoughts, trying not to pry too much in her private home, but needing to at least quell his curiosity. He smelled her perfumes in there, finding the one that made his mouth water and stomach flip, taking a picture of the bottle to remember the name in the future. Pink towels hanging loosely off his body as he basked in the softness. Damn she got him good, if Connie or Eren saw him they’d call him whipped for weeks.

Makeup wasn’t so easy today, hands shaking from nervousness, and having to wipe off some foundation after putting just a smidge too much. Her mind reeling from the daunting awareness that this could seriously go left if she doesn’t at least try to act a bit normal. Feeling crippled under the label of being the weird girl that’s always criminally alone, not having the social skills necessary to even order her own food sometimes, let alone do it across the table from a boy. Nothing about this screamed that it’d go well, but it wasn’t like she had much choice.

He felt the same pressure as well, shrugging his clothes back on after finding them folded on top of in the laundry room where he got dressed. His sweats were fresh from the dryer by the time he came in there, smelling better than his own detergent, and it was a hard pill to swallow knowing that this could all go away. It couldn’t happen, not so soon at least, not after giving him a taste of what could be his, but she was so skittish and scared that Ony had to tread lightly when handling her.

All was forgotten as soon as he looked at her though, lips shiny and pink, skin glistening from her lotion and bits of glitter within it, long curly lash extensions framing her face. Her hair swished down her back, bracelet and earrings simple, leaving a show of skin as she smoothed out any wrinkles she could see. Rushing around to fill her little purse with everything under the sun, her lip gloss, phone, crystals for good luck (and a little love), all of her essentials really.

Milana didn’t even know what she was doing to him, going from the longest shirt he’d ever seen to a black satin dress that he almost mistook for lingerie if it weren’t for its modesty. Lace edges falling over her body like it wanted to jump off of her, lose and still clinging to all the curves that made her look like a tease. Maybe, he was a bit too eager, but seeing her so gorgeous and act so good made it hard for him to resist. Damn, it’s been a long time since he felt this way, it threw him for a loop in the best way possible.

Ony was putting her in the same predicament whether he knew it or not. His smile, so boyish and charming today, on that handsome face with his sharp jaw and kind eyes. It was unfair. Totally swoon worthy, and oh so beautiful with all that ink on display. His moisturized skin showing off intricate images and words under his tee, throwing his hoodie over it to cover up his bulging arms that looked like they could rip through the fabric of his clothes. It was wonder how he could look so rough, so intimidating, and be such a gentle giant.

Neither said a word as they walked to his car, Ony graciously opening the door for Milana to climb inside and inspect his environment in the daylight. His car was nice, seemed fresh off the lot and it appeared like he had put a lot of work into it, his seats a nice leather with a matte black trim on every surface. It smelled good in there too, just like his cologne from yesterday, she tucked herself in the corner of her seat as she tried not to openly sniff the air like a psycho.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ony asked as he sat down, rubbing his hands up his legs as he looked at her, probably not even realizing how good he looked right now. Her stomach filled with butterflies, but she gulped back the feeling to nod slowly.

“Can I ask you one after?” He chuckled at her response, but nodded his head nonetheless. If they were going to have breakfast, they could at least get to know each other a bit better. Wetting his lips before sitting up to ask.

“Why d’you play dress up like this, but act all shy?” His hand leaning over to make sure she saw how all he could see was her, keeping his gaze light and playful like his tone. She only shrugged, shy at first after falling into the weight of his question, her face blank and unreadable until she saw how his eyes were subtly putting pressure on her.

“I don’t know, makes me feel better?” Milana put out her words without thinking, taking a second to clean it up without noticing the way he seemed to appreciate her gift of gab. “I know it’s silly, but it’s always how I expressed myself even if I look crazy-”

“You don’t look crazy.” He said, final and direct. It had her pausing in her tracks, no one had ever spoken to her like that before. Her own grandparents who raised her had never been so assertive, always scolding then soothing after, but not as no-nonsense as Ony.

“Thank you?” Her face felt too warm while trying to get her words out, turning to his side mirror to see her face and make sure she didn’t look stupid right now.

“You look beautiful, matches your personality.” The car started just as he spoke, forcing Milana to swallow her urge to hide away, instead giving him a reserved thanks, face lighting up at the thought that he might not be lying to her. She told herself to breathe and enjoy the view, eyeing the beach as they drove more inland, away from home.

Everything downtown was expensive, lined with rows of boutiques, name brand stores, and pricey restaurants. Milana usually only came around to go clubbing, but to be here in the daylight was different, somehow more exciting. Ony walked like he was untouchable, people moving aside to let him pass, treating him like he was the king of the city. Some nodding their heads in respect, or stopping to dap him up, thanking him for those “deliveries” he made.

“It’s all good, Bro.” It was strange how his whole face could change as soon as it left hers. He’d be walking with her, just a step behind to where she could see him over her shoulder, and when people would come up he’d look… bored. Ony’s smile had no effort, and he’d only glance in their direction before turning back, sometimes giving her a wink when their eyes met.

Milana turned forward, hiding her hint of a smile as they approached a hostess booth for the restaurant. “What’s up, Sarah. Let me get a table for two, please.” Ony standing behind her still as he spoke, shaping his waves with a spare brush he found in his car. He slid his chain back on before they stepped out as well, definitely making him out of dress code if the hoodie wasn’t enough. This place screamed fancy, upper class, and bougie, all things that made her feel a bit out of place.

The woman didn’t even bat an eye at her or Ony though, simply grabbing some menus and leading the way for them to sit at a gorgeous table, large enough to seat four. The hostess taking two extra chairs away, lighting their candle provide warmth in the afternoon breeze, and to obviously set a mood. He snickered watching the realization wash over her face, looking at him then trying not to trip over her own sandals.

“Hope you enjoy!” She said before making her way back to her booth, leaving just Milana and Ony by themselves again. He slid out her chair for her, and it was all becoming a bit too much, all this chivalry would get to her head.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to!” Her whisper only made him nod his head back towards the chair he was still holding.

“Take a seat, Mama.” For some reason it didn’t feel like he was asking, just being polite to soften the demand. A shiver ran up Milana’s back as her face flushed, pressing her lips together to hide a pout as she did what she was told, pushing her closer to the table before dropping into his own chair.

The setting was too intimate for what they were. Not rowdy like the club, or awkward like in her home. Just calm, peaceful, Ony sitting there like nothing in life could go wrong, cool as could be. Couples sitting all around, enjoying the day amongst each other, Milana looking down to escape the burning feeling of envy for them.

She averted her attention to study how he looked over her menu as she skimmed over it, wondering if he found this as bizarre as she did. A month ago he just popped up out of nowhere, seemingly falling out of the sky to help contribute to her little vice. Now, she was sitting across from him at a table, experiencing something that felt strangely like a date.

“What are you looking at?”

“What?” His words shocking Milana out of her head, making her think that she had been caught staring until he gestured to the menu.

“I don’t usually eat this shit, so I’m trying to find something simple.” Ony hummed, tossing his aside to free his hands, pressing them into his pockets as the breeze came again.

“Oh,” Her eyes made contact with the words to try and find something quickly. “French toast sounds so good right now, but I’m going swimming soon once it heats up…” She replied with wishful thinking, focused on finding something else when their waiter quickly approached, setting down glasses and water as they exchanged formalities, giving a rundown on the specials.

“I think I'll get the French toast. Steak too, medium well, and fried eggs. You want anything else?”

Milana didn’t even try to fight him this time, knowing he wouldn’t take any excuse she gave anyways. Instead, she was sighing out in relief that she didn’t have to do that herself. The waiter took down their orders and sped off to another table while she thought about the sweet gesture, feeling herself ease into loosening up.

Her hands resting on the white table cloth, admiring the view of the city from this perspective. “Can I ask my question?” She couldn’t stop herself from trying to pry into his mind a little, wanting to answer some things for herself. His quick nod giving her the reliance she needed to continue. “Why do you deal?”

Ony never faltered, almost like he expected the question, probably so after doing it so many years. “Good money. Pays my rent and fills up my tank.” He replied, unfazed and a little uninterested in talking about his job.

“That’s it? You don’t like being able to socialize?” She expected him to talk grand stories about the adrenaline, the danger that just whisked him away better than anything else had, planting that seed in him to conquer hundreds of people’s supply and demand.

“Hell nah,” He scrunched his nose up at that, like the thought was enough to make him cringe. “I don’t even like most of the people I talk to. I do it so I can get paid. Eren’s the one who likes the game that comes with it.” His hands waved dismissively, trying to think of something else, but Milana wasn’t letting it go quite yet.

“You don’t like a lot of people? What about the people in your section? Like the girls and stuff..” So that’s why she wanted to know. That was interesting to Ony, used to hearing the whole spiel about how much of a terrible person he was, although she on the other hand had never treated him with anything but grace. It was starting to become apparent just how much she cared.

“I’m cool off them. That shit you saw in the club was just miserable Ol’ Deedra.” He grit out his second sentence under his breath, like he was annoyed just thinking about her. There must’ve been something that happened, the feeling too bitter to ignore.

“Why don’t you like her?” She asked incredulously, Ony’s eyes flicking to hers with a look of confusion. The way she asked, so astounded, like she couldn’t believe that he wasn’t interested in some girl in the club had him feeling some type of way. Why was she even asking about her, when all he wanted to talk about was sitting right there next to him.

“She’s not my type.” He said simply put, shrugging it off casually like he didn’t even have to think about it. His head leaning back to inspect her face, tongue running across his lower lip, just wondering what hers would feel like. “I like good girls that don’t know how to drive.”

“Stop playing.” Milana was quick to say that, wanting to shut down his teasing little attempts to flirt. He laughed at her dissmisal, not taking it to heart at all. All he could do anyways was find her even more attractive, the challenge making him want to try harder.

“Who said I was?” Oh, so he was serious? There was no way to mistake what he said as anything else but completely earnest. Still, that hint of doubt was present, wondering what happened last night to make him so interested. She didn’t have the confidence to think she could make his head turn, and still he was sitting there like she was more than enough. “I don’t play around like that, with people’s feelings.”

“I think you’re just trying to be nice.” Milana’s voice didn’t have anymore fight in her tone, just a sad little edge that made Ony furrow his brows. He pushed himself away from the table, leaning back to think for a second, actually thinking about what he could say.

Stubborn, so blind she can’t even see what he was doing here. Shit, everyone could, but she just didn’t believe him yet, he needed to find a way to convince her, show her he was serious as can be. “What do I got to do to show you I’m not playing?”

He looked so hopeful, urging her to actually tell him something, anything. He’d give her whatever she wanted, whatever she needed to make her see him, too entranced by the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen to not do anything about it.

“I don’t… I don’t know, Ony.” Milana really didn’t, she couldn’t tell him what it’d take to break down her walls and let him in. The fact that he got this far in the first place was already astonishing, to go any further would just be too scary.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Ony didn’t offer up any other explanation, just swiftly stood and went around to her seat, soothing her confusion that was written all over her face. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to get something.” With that, he sped towards the entrance, a bit of energy to his purposeful steps, and he was gone in just seconds flat. Sitting at their table, seeing him go, she couldn’t help but wonder if what she said was the reason he left so quickly, hoping her big mouth didn’t just cost her.

Time seemed to move slower than molasses waiting for Ony. Their food even came after waiting fifteen minutes longer, the piping hot plates just getting cold as Milana tried not to actually lose it in public. Her shoulders slumped in, eyes trying not to shed fat crystallized tears of embarrassment and disappointment. God, just when it was all going so well, now she was left to sit here and trust that he’d come back? He didn’t even tell her where he was going, just rushing off to leave her stranded and hiding her face behind her napkin so no one could see her shame.

Just a second before she was about to stand up and leave, she saw a familiar looking mass of muscle, making his way to their table. Her head jumped up to see if it was really him, relief flooding all of her senses as he came back just like he said he would, noticing he didn’t come empty handed either. Hands full of a beautiful bouquet of Lilies, long white petals and long green stems that were bound together by a simple white string of satin. Where did he even get such a beautiful bunch, and why was he heading right to her with them?

“I didn’t know which ones you’d like, so I just got what looked nice I guess.” He dropped down in front of her, crouching next to his chair breathless and nervous as he passed them into her hands. He jogged three blocks to get them, finding the closest flower shop in walking distance and picking out what caught his eye. His nerves were strumming, not exactly knowledgeable about picking out flowers, he could only hope that he had accomplished what he set out to do.

“Wow… they-” They were so soft and smelled lovely, her eyes filling with tears all over again at the sweetest gesture she’d ever received. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

That was all he needed to feel like he accomplished his greatest feat yet, chest swelling with pride, as he smiled the widest he had all day. She giggled softly at that, trying to hide her watery gaze, but he wouldn’t let her, hands gently holding onto hers over the flowers, rubbing soothing circled into her skin. “I promise I’m serious, Milana.”

Neither of them could stop the desire coursing through the air, leaving them to silently convey what they were feeling. Trying not to openly stare at each other, longing burning through their bodies as they both leaned closer. Ony closing the gap between them, their eyes falling shut as he pressed the softest kiss over her lips. Milana finally giving herself permission to let go of all her worry, every thought that he might not want her escaping from her mind, leaving them in bliss.

Chat! Thank you to everyone who is following the series so far! I appreciate it so much. I just absolutely love SZA's album, and I hope people are loving it just as much as I do. Keep following along and see where Milana and Ony end up next! - Baby Bow 🎀

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@kxllanxtdoor

@rintcrous

@blackgirlmagicforever

[logansgaar]

I'm never going to stop thinking about how May's murderer, who killed her in front of Peter only a few hours ago, was goading Peter into killing him, actively encouraging his violence, the Green Goblin wanted to revel in corrupting Spider-Man, and all it took was a Look for Peter to come back to himself and decide to save Norman instead, no words, no begging, no pleading, no repeated attempts to reason with him or escape from him, just one blocked swing and a Look.

And there's still people who think he'd want to "give team cap a piece of his mind", or would've still been on Tony's team had he not been kidnapped, blackmailed and lied to about why he was there.

Peter could not be more Steve coded if he tried and we had five movies trying to shove "Peter is Tony's mini-me" down our throats just because Peter's a genius. One trait shared with Tony does not make him like him, he's Iron Man's antithesis by the end of NWH. I'll be so mad if Spider-Man 4 is another of the same, or even worse acts like May's loss isn't as big of a deal to Peter as that man.

[youghvaudough]

Wind Breaker characters have a theme to their names, a thread, part 3:

we will discuss Noroshi, a group that appears later in the manga, so, spoilers under the divide, click with discretion!

(part 1: Bōfūrin and part 2: Shishitoren)

Noroshi / 烽

the group antithesis to Bōfūrin is aptly named signal fire. with a fire radical / 火字旁, their name easily invokes the fire imagery that Endō frequently quotes

as we have established, Bōfūrin is associated with trees/plants, so it is unsurprising that a group that broke from them and wants to destroy their ideals would want to set fire to them

interestingly enough, the leader of noroshi and his second-in-command (and biggest fan) have both wood and fire in their last names:

焚石 矢 • Takiishi Chika: 焚 / to burn (with fire)

the kanji 焚 is literally made up of 林 (two wood/木 side by side, "forest/trees") on top and 火 ("fire") below it,, very straightforward

棪堂 哉真斗 • Endō Yamato: 棪 / (archaically) a red fruit of a tree that looks like crabapples

the kanji 棪 is made up of 木 (wood radical) and 炎 (two fire/火 stacked on top of each other, "flames"),, again, very straight(?)forward

other named members of noroshi:

they have elements of wood in their last names, likely a leftover from their previous association with Fūrin, but they are specifically wooden tools instead of living trees:

盤杖 奏音 · Banjo Kanon: 杖 / (wooden) walking stick

(he looks like scaramouche from genshin i say this and run tf away so fast)

杓子 千宙 · Shakushi Chihiro: 杓 / wooden ladle

樽味 清太郎 · Tarumi Seitaro: 樽 / wooden barrel (for alcohol/soy sauce, etc.)

柱尾 修士 · Hashirao Shuji: 柱 / (wooden) column, pillar

(yup the same kanji 柱/Hashira that's used in Demon Slayer; also this is why i kept calling the hashiras "pillars" and had to explain myself when talking about KNY with my very confused English-speaking friends)

梳地 弦治 · Sugichi Genji: 梳 / (wooden) comb

(he's weirdly Grease coded makes sense he has "comb" in his last name lmao)

that's what i got so far! hope you found this interesting. ty for reading if you got this far!!

[sugar-grigri]

Sperm is the symbol of hope in pain, yes. Sit down, I'll explain.

Yes, even sperm has symbolism.

Although this title may sound catchy, I didn't phrase it that way to make it so, I really mean it. I'm just warning that some of my sentences are going to sound completely crazy. Let me begin. 

I've said it before, but when we have a tripartite chapter, the key to reading it is to link these three elements. What do kissing, love and sperm have to do with each other? The answer seems obvious, and refers back to the previous chapter. The link lies in the act committed in chapter 167. But I think it's more subtle and stronger than that. 

These three elements are impossible to deny. Just as Asa can't deny not loving Denji to Yoru, Yoru can't deny having kissed Denji twice, and wanting to kiss him again. Sperm carries the same message (crazy phrase). It is just as much a part of the realization of the previous elements, impossible to deny. It can be cleaned up, forgotten like kissing, denied like love, it is the concretization of the other two acts. 

Semen is perceived as negative, disgusting, sticky, as new feelings or an unexpected kiss can be. But above all it's a result that doesn't help either protagonist. 

Again it's crazy what I'm about to say. But just as the semen made Denji realize that Asa/Yoru wanted to kiss him, he hoped there was a feeling of love. Just as Asa and Yoru denied kissing and love for him, realized they had semen on their hands. I know it sounds weird when you say it like that, but it's not. Sexuality is a major theme in CSM. Just as its organic aspect carries a message. 

Sperm refers to the fact that Denji masturbates when he's unwell, just as he relies on the discovery of sex to be happy. The semen also reflects Asa's fear of intimacy. Just as it is a kind of victory for Yoru, who sexually assaulted them both. 

In short, the tripartite title basically refers to the feelings intertwined between these three pivots. And his order makes sense. It symbolizes the way Yoru interferes. 

Yoru kissed Denji for the first time at a time when Asa barely realized what she was feeling. It's vital to understand that, at this point, neither Yoru nor Asa were yet fully in love with Denji, since they hadn't yet developed feelings for CSM during the Falling Devil arc. 

The kiss came before the love. He was stolen. Whether it's because it's unexpected for Denji. And precipitous for Asa. 

Then there's the development of Asa's feelings, again leading to an appropriation of Yoru, committing a precipitous sexual act for both protagonists. 

But above all, the three elements were succinctly crossed out. The kiss had been temporarily forgotten by Yoru. The semen is washed away to forget the sexual assault. And Denji is denied love. 

Let me be very clear so that everyone understands. Love, kissing and semen are denied by Asa and happened in the wrong order for her.

Just as they are monopolized by Yoru.

Just as Denji places his hopes in them, and they are a logical consequence for him.

But it's not all doom and gloom. Because the name of the sushi restaurant is a coded message (another crazy phrase).

As I've said before, every element is a symbol. The fish are.

They hark back to the aquarium episode. As Asa despaired, Denji fed her fish and starfish, foods Asa disliked. Just as she was in despair and denied herself hope, fish is associated with regaining hope. Above all, the aquatic element is the antithesis of fire, represented by the fire demon who leads us to be what we desire, even if it means suffering for it. Fish is acceptance, fire disillusionment. 

It's not present in the English version and I don't know if it's translated from Japanese, but I hope so, but this chapter reinforces my interpretation: press the button to have hot water but but beware of burns. We have to relate the fish to understand the symbol of fire. Yes. 

So what does the restaurant's name mean? 

Two options. The key to facing death is hope. Or will the protagonists perish from hoping that happiness is within their reach ?

Actually I think it's deeper than that. I've been hoping for this for a few times now, so I'm going to try again. 

When Asa invited Denji, it was because she considered him less than a cat. Who else considered him less than a cat ?

When Asa was picky about food at the aquarium? Who else is? 

Who did Asa think of at the aquarium? 

For whom precisely does Denji not feel love in the sense that he feels it for Asa ? 

Remember when I said that the title refers to negation ? 

There's hope in death. 

When Denji says he wants to like sushi, symbolically it's to keep hope alive. 

But fish are a strong enough symbol to refer to someone whose name wasn't uttered once in part 2. Forgotten. 

Eating sushi will lead Denji to count on his family again. 

Like the hope of finding someone dear to him.

Love in horror.

Power.

But wait before you go. I lied, there's more despair than hope. You can't blame me, that's what Fujimoto does all the time.

What did Power do ? Die for love, right ? Hope, denial, love........

Power even died twice, didn't she? Cut in two, right?

I know Asa and Denji have already died, but they can die a second time, can't they ? But this time with two of them. Dying a second time together.

Do you miss the cursed number 2 ?

[makimacult]

what's the deal with this "love" thing anyways? — part one.

credit goes to @amoransia for bringing these panels to my attention! something fun about the demon lords is how foreign "love" is as a concept to them. mammon feels affection for his followers, and explicitly calls them his comrades. that "love" necessitates special treatment for them—he calls tachibana his friend and promises to protect her, yet by the very nature of what he embodies, inflicts violence on her. he is greed, antithesis of equality. and yet that same greediness which discriminates & does not treat one and all equally: is what makes it natural for him to treat tachibana as an exception.

the next demon lord introduced is leviathan. how can you love that which is not equal to you? her children idolise & isolate her. she is too powerful to engage in normal "play", everything she embraces or touches breaks. the final conclusion leviathan reaches after fighting priest is that she should go about the world as her true self—other people naturally will have expectations of her, but she can't let those expectations tie her down. "the strong must acknowledge that they are strong"—prescient & sad words from priest-kun, who has been forced to acknowledge his own strength and bear expectations because of it since he was far too young. but this is a world where heaven and hell are proven existences—the strong must realise that they are strong, and the church exists as humanity's answer to the existence of gehenna. but what kind of answer is it? & what exactly is the border between demons and humans?

and with that we come to beelzebub. like mammon, he too has his own strange code of honour. he makes leah eat her own baby brother, true, but he spares her when he massacres her whole village. he is sadistic in the way of a natural calamity—gluttony as the choice to take from others to feast yourself. gluttony embodies several things in beelzebub's arc. hunger for food, leah's hunger for revenge, imuri's hunger to be closer to priest, verge' & the witches hunger for a seat at the table (side note: it's interesting that verge is the witch of gluttony in particular. sugar, like salt, can be used as a preservative. verge accepts beelzebub's contract and is frozen at, or near, the age he was sexaully assaulted. forever ripe...)

so what does priest hunger for? well, beelzebub would very much like to know that himself! what he's shocked by is how much priest has been starved of all wants by everyone around him. the facets of him reflected through battles with mammon and leviathan are now starker—he is strong, he knows he is strong, he knows what is expected of him, and that knowledge (& the treatment he was put thru to gain that state of mind) has resulted in someone who does not really have a reason to live. protect others, defeat satan—these are all causes. leah is priest's foil in this arc, and it's no coincidence that we see her and barbara embraced by cardinal heisenberg at the end of the arc. she has her cause (revenge) too, but she has something stable to come back to, at the end of the day.

and who does priest have? dante (who puts the dead in deadbeat) and imuri, the first person who truly is in priest, the person; and not priest, the apostle of god's corner. [1]

the conclusion imuri reaches at the end of leviathan's arc is that it is possible for humans and demons to be together—if she has the courage to reach out and extend her hand. [2]

asmodeus' arc touches most significantly on mtefil's themes as a whole. love doesn't always save people—asmodeus and sara did love each other, but that love just caused pain for them. asmodeus and sarah parallel bel and onesta as another human-demon relationship: but where priest tells bel that he should've been honest with onesta, what rejoinder can he give asmodeus?

the conclusion which asmodeus draws after her fight with priest is that forcing herself onto sarah would've resulted in misery in the end. priest never even finds out what the root of asmodeus' issues are, even though love between a demon and a human, where the demon wants to free the human from suffering imposed on them by human society... is kind of exactly what imuri wants to do for priest?

where all the other demon lords reflect some facet of priest back, i'd argue that asmodeus is the demon lord who reflects imuri back!

let's circle back to imuri's conclusion at the end of leviathan's arc—that love is possible between humans and demons as long as you're willing to extend your hand ie understand each other (i have talked about the lust arc conclusion for imuri before). her understanding is still incomplete however—after all, she does admit in her text messages that love isn't a cure-all:

and with that, we come back to belphegor's arc; possibly some of the most unsubtle (i say this with affection) writing mtefil has showcased so far. bel is also curious about love and marriage—he makes an effort to put himself on an equal footing with humans. can't we draw a parallel between bel's bracelet and the child form leviathan uses to appear harmless?

if beelzebub is at one end of the spectrum, and leviathan on the other, then bel is firmly in the middle. before his climactic shonen manga arc fight with priest, he is nihilistic, uses women as a scapegoat, and blames onesta for all his grief and rage for luka. priest tells him he should've been honest from the beginning, and is partially correct—but bel and the demon lords, by virtue of what they are, cannot be honest or even engage with humanity as equals.

now, what does this say for priest? his coming of age happens simultaneously through his relationship with imuri, and his battles with the demon lords. i've seen that priest = lucifer is a popular theory, but personally i like the flip side: that priest is a human who finds humanity as alienating and incomprehensible as the demon lords do, and is ironically taught of humanity and love by a demon.

[1] / [2] see part 2

[delirious-donna]

an: angst is not usually where my brain goes but this idea… it just consumed by brain (like he has). My first ever foray into Blue Lock so please be kind!! Plus, it’s just a short lil thing. 🥺

pairing: Shouei Barou x female reader

warnings: self ship coded, SFW, a little angst, a little fluff, Barou isn’t great with feelings

It had been months.

Months of consistently subtle interactions that had led to this. This… unfamiliar feeling in his chest.

It was uncomfortable, and it made him grumpy when he couldn’t identify the source. Barou didn’t like to be in the dark about anything, let alone why his body was misbehaving.

Rubbing a palm over the area didn’t help in the slightest, nor did ignoring its existence.

On those nights where he would lie awake and stare at the ceiling, often the nights before an important match, he would poke at the feeling. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Barou would close his eyes and try to figure out what weighed so heavily on his conscious that his skin prickled from the discomfort. It couldn’t be nerves for his upcoming game, he was the king and the king had no worry about his prowess out on the field.

It made him even more grouchy than normal; growling and snarling at his mediocre teammates when they tried to joke with him. He was a bear with a bad head, and everyone was sick of it—most of all, him.

The realisation dawned slowly one Saturday morning.

With the heaviness in his chest following him around like there was a boulder lodged where his heart should be, he made his way to his pre-match sports massage.

There you were.

Sunshine smiles and starry eyed. The complete antithesis of himself. He knew the moment the weight lifted that you were the reason, though he refused to acknowledge it.

The discomfort melted away like ice under a heat lamp, leaving behind a tingly sensation that spread out from his heart to the tips of his fingers and toes. All of it, he ignored.

You were gentle despite how you could bring a grown ass man to his knees with the right combination of pressure points. You were friendly and inquisitive without coming across as nosy. You were soft-spoken but no nonsense at the same time. You were everything he wasn’t, and…

Barou wanted you.

“Right on time, Barou! I do love a punctual man,” you teased with a bright smile that lit up your small office.

“Shouei…” He so desperately wanted to correct you, to hear his given name roll around your mouth and trip off your pretty pink tongue. Instead, he gave a grunt and lay on the table as he had done for the past six months.

If his silence bothered you, you didn’t show it. The determination and skilful expertise of your hands eased onto his body like an old friend. His heart fluttered and his fists clenched.

He would never not be impressed by your ability to remember his every little past twinge and injury. It wasn’t like you were his personal physio, far from it since the whole team graced your office on a regular basis. Barou secretly wondered if he might be special to you, but quickly dismissed that idea with an audible grimace.

“Tender here today? Hm, that’s not normal for you.”

You had taken his reaction as a sign of pain at your manipulation of the area directly behind his left knee. He could kick himself. He was a damn idiot.

Barou grunted, “Nah, my mind was elsewhere.”

With a subtle nod, you hummed and continued to work diligently across his hamstrings which were known to give him problems. They were problems of his own making, as you liked to remind him, since he had a tendency to expect maximum exertion for a full ninety minute game.

“You’re a man not a machine!” You’d scowl him time and again.

You weren’t buying his excuse. He couldn’t blame you. He was a shitty liar. The truth was what he preferred—the blunter the better.

“Turn over,” you asked with a tap at his ankle. “Wanna talk about it? Where your mind is, I mean. It might help.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Except, he didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t. For all his bravado of never shying away from the truth, no matter how painful… he couldn’t face his own.

He looked into your sweet face, ruby eyes bouncing between yours and dared to dream that what he saw was more than professional curiosity. The words burned his throat and turned his mouth to ash. If only he could brave the final hurdle, score the winning goal…

“Don’t go worrying about me. Tell me about your week and let me forget my problems for a bit.”

Barou was no king, not when you were the one wearing the crown.

Placed there by his hand.

His crown.