#especially while trying to be ‘on model’

[itzpookiepooh]

Hi pookieee, can i please request lads men reaction when you suddenly ran up to him and hugged him tight while trembling :>>

I’ll do my best!

Bad News

Xavier was waiting for you at the train station when he felt unknown arms wrap around his waist. He stiffened, alerted as he looked at his surroundings. When he turned to look there you were trembling. He holds you tightening your arms around him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Your voice shook as he just hummed.

“Okay we don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m here.” He held you close as you both waited for the train to arrive. Slowly but surely you relax.

Sylus was cooking when you arrived at his home. You rushed over to him and hugged him tight. He turned already knowing it was you he went to hug you but you were trembling. He swiftly goes to look at you with a stern face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks genuine concern in his tone as he held you.

“There was an accident and I thought it was you.” Your voice trembled making him hold you tighter.

“I would never leave you in this world alone. Understand?” He tells you as he holds tighter trying to calm you down.

“You can’t make promises that are impossible to keep.” You sigh clutching his shirt. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I know I won’t leave you alone.”

The room fell silent as you held him as if he would slip away.

Zayne woke up to you hugging him tightly and shaking. Your breathing was rapid and you had a sheet of sweat on your skin. His fingers caressed your face gently as he watched you.

“Nightmare?” He whispered as you nodded firmly. He hummed returning your hug.

“Want to talk about it?” He asks but you shook your head. “It’ll help release the stress.” He tells you.

“You died in my arms. It was all my fault.” You replied as he rubbed your back.

“I have full confidence you would do anything to protect me than hurt me.” He reassured you as he kissed your temple. Which was true you’d risk your life before you ever put anyone especially Zayne in danger.

Rafayel was putting away some old painting tools when you hugged him. He tried to look at your face but it was mushed into his shirt. He wondered what woke you from your nap.

“Cutie, are you hiding from me?” He tries to joke but you were holding on so tight. “Or trying to pop me like a balloon.” He mumbled uncontrollably.

“I just had a bad dream is all.” You said shakily as you grip him tighter.

“About?” He questioned holding you close. “I lost you I was alone for so long. You disappeared, it was so choppy but I was so scared.” Rafayel’s eyes grow wide as he holds you close.

“I would never leave you.” He tells you holding your head to his chest. “Not again.” He whispers in your hair as his fingers lace through it. You couldn’t hear him over his constant rapid heartbeat.

“Hey pips how’s it—OOF!” Caleb nearly lost his footing when you ran into his arms. You were shaking like a leaf causing him to worry.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He coos holding your face in his hands. Your eyes were wide and filled with worry.

“There was a crash today and the model number was the same as yours and—“ You were rambling and your trembling got worse.

“Oh! Honey that was the model S. It malfunctioned but everyone’s okay. It was a test drive.” He tried to reassure you as he rubbed your arms. “I’d never leave you like that.” He tries to tell you but your mind was elsewhere.

What if he were on that plane?

“Hey look at me. I’m an excellent pilot and I do my best every day to come home to you.” He tells it to you straight before pulling you into him and rubbing your back.

I love angst every now and again 🥲 also don’t worry I am getting through your requests…slowly

[umsii]

CORRECT!!!

i’m surprised it could come through in the drawings enough for anyone to see it! Lancer is very much a mole to me—or at least—the animal i relate him to the most is the mole; they’re adorable little things ♠️

“Hee hee! I'm bliss-fully ignorant!”

a small collection of Lancer doodles i tidied up a little

[thetrialsandtribulationsofeb]

buddie roommates era is still one of my favourite scenarios for buddie canon, by the way

they’re living together while buck is trying (unsuccessfully) to find a new apartment for months (’cause he’s not really trying, to be honest. every new place feels wrong for some reason), and eddie is very happy about it internally but will never admit it - to himself or to buck

and then one night they drink way too much and almost end up kissing while sitting on the couch, but they pretend nothing happened and plan on taking it to their graves. and the amount of sex dreams they have about each other increases (because they definitely had them before, for all these years, and just thought it was totally normal for straight best friends and didn’t mean anything, right?)

but then buck finally finds a new place. and even though he’s not sure about his decision, he knows he has to do it to let go of eddie forever - which he thinks he has to do in order to be happy, right? he has to move on

so he’s sitting in the truck with all his things packed, and maddie is in the passenger seat. he asked her to go with him instead of eddie, because doing it with eddie would make everything harder - especially since they already had a similar goodbye once, and he can’t go through it again. also, he needed her support

but maddie keeps hinting that he should tell eddie how he feels about this move. how he should talk to him about his feelings. how life is so uncertain and anything can happen at any moment, so you should overcome your fears and tell people what you’re thinking

and she brings up how she and chimney got together exactly because they stopped beating around the bush and had the courage to admit their feelings, even though they were both unsure and afraid of doing the wrong thing. but look at them now - it turned out to be the best decision of their lives

and buck is like, “but why are you bringing up you and chimney? it’s different with me and eddie”

and maddie’s like, “you know why,” while looking at him like this: 🥺

and you can see heartbreak in buck’s eyes. because he does know

but then quiet determination rises in his eyes and he says, “i have to go,” and runs to eddie’s house (let’s imagine they didn’t get that far from it at this point. also i just love how fast buck runs)

and while they were having this talk, eddie was at home with chris. and chris saw how sad his dad was. how he kept talking about how he probably should’ve helped buck move out and gone with him, but buck never asked him, so he didn’t want to insist

and it’s probably the saddest chris has ever seen eddie, aside from when he’s stricken with grief for his army comrades, shannon, and bobby (who turned out to be alive and they all saved him, by the way - which brought up a lot of difficult and contradictory feelings in everyone, but that’s another story)

so chris goes to eddie and says something like:

“hey dad. i think you should go talk to him”

“and say what?”

“i don’t know. i know i was small, but i wasn’t stupid. i saw things i didn’t fully understand, but now that i’ve grown, i finally get it.

remember how you told me about how you and mum met, and said that if someday someone makes me feel like that, i should never let them go?

i… i think you’ve been in love with buck probably since the moment you two found each other, to be honest. and you’re supposed to be my role model, right? so maybe you should listen to your own advice”

and eddie looks at him - first with surprise, then with 🥹🥹🥹

and he asks:

“god. maybe i am. maybe i should. and you’ll be okay with it? are you sure? ’cause if you’re not, then i will never—”

and chris just looks at him sternly and says:

“dad. when will you understand that i just want you to be happy? you’re my dad, yes. but you’re also my dad. we take care of each other. it’s not a one-way street”

and eddie chuckles through tears and jokes: “when did you become so wise?”

chris smiles, and eddie leaves his room

and right as eddie is about to walk out the front door, he sees buck - who just got there and was about to open it

they look at each other for literally one second before eddie grabs buck’s face in his hands and kisses him, and buck wraps his arms around eddie’s waist, and they kiss like their lives depend on it - for a whole minute or even longer (no music in the background so you can hear every little sound of that kiss)

and then they run out of breath and just look at each other, bodies still intertwined, foreheads touching. and the episode ends

and the next episode starts with buck in his new apartment, and the two of them avoiding each other at work and being awkward when they have to interact, while everyone around them are side-eyeing them

and chris, henren, and madney have to listen to both of them say how it was a mistake, how they shouldn’t have kissed, how they ruined everything, and how they’ll never be able to fix it. how they should’ve stayed friends forever. how they never should’ve listened to you all…

i just think it would be cool for them to kiss first and then spiral the next day/week -

eddie, because he’s still gonna be flooded with catholic guilt, mourning the loss of his old identity after identifying as straight for so long, and wrestling with guilt over shannon and how he failed her and their relationship

but then it’ll wear off, and he’ll have his hozier moment of redefining heaven for himself (and eventually forgive himself for “betraying” shannon, though it’ll take more time)

and buck will freak out because he thinks it might ruin their friendship - he thinks sex just complicates everything (“i don’t have to want to sleep with everyone i have feelings for, and i don’t have to have feelings for everyone i sleep with”), and how every relationship in his life is doomed to end

but then he’ll realize this one won’t

because this is the first time he and the person he’s with are actually on the same page, and that being with eddie will only make their connection stronger, and he couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of his life with him, and they’ll be able to make it work - exactly because they’ll always be best friends

and after they finish freaking out, they’ll have their second kiss, which leads to them having sex (maybe this time eddie will come to buck’s place after he stops spiralling. also, buck having his own place will allow them to take things slow (yeah, i know it sounds funny in their case) - before he eventually moves into eddie’s house)

and it’ll be fast and awkward and messy, but they’ll be so happy and relieved that they just burst into laughter

and then they’ll look at each other and go at it again -

and this time, it’ll be the best sex of their lives. like transcending through time and space

and them doing a fist bump and saying “nice work, man” or something like that afterward is essential!!!

[ccarisi]

handouts

summary: Sonny gets you an internship at the DA’s office without asking. Your reaction isn’t what he hoped for.

warnings: age gap, stepcest, smut, dubcon, spanking, facials, rough sex/hate sex, office sex, daddy kink, he makes you call him dad if that’s not ya thing, degradation, implied blackmail a lil, step!dad sonny x afab gender neutral reader, 3.1k words

a/n: two fics in one week who am i? considering this my own birthday present to all of you! everyone better amp up their perv this weekend my birthday is on MONDAY. now you know. im not a law student and never claimed to be btw, inspired by this ask

dt: @johnnydubcek and every sonny freak in the world, also lmk if anyone wants me to start a tag list or smth 🙂‍↕️

You swear that ever since Sonny found out that you want to go into defense work instead of prosecution he’s had it out for you. Something about him wanting you to follow in his footsteps, or something. To make matters worse you’re flirting with the idea of becoming a public defender.

That’s not to say that things between you were sunshine and rainbows before this, but it certainly isn’t helping.

The two of you never quite saw eye to eye. Sonny thought you’d grow out of it eventually, blaming your stubbornness and attitude on your young age. But here you are twenty some years later and your relationship is just as rocky.

You think he’s a creep if you’re being honest. His eyes are always on you from the second you walk into a room as if he’s tracking your every move. It’s not just that, either. It’s the comments.

Sonny’s always questioning you about boys and relationships, accusing you of having some sort of secret boyfriend when that’s never been the case. It’s like he’s jealous he can’t be with you himself. Not to mention the amount of times he’s been commenting lately on how you’ve, ‘really grown up’ and ‘sure look good nowadays.’

You’ve never been one to accept a handout, especially when you think you don’t deserve one. You make sure to never bring up who your stepdad is to any of your professors and you’re certainly not interested in any of his connections. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

When Sonny hears wind that his office is looking for a new intern he knows you’ll never agree if he asks you to apply. What choice did he have besides putting your name in the ringer on your behalf? With his pull it’s no surprise that they decided to move forward with you.

You were always a stubborn kid, never knowing what was good for you. So ungrateful, too. Sonny signs off on the paperwork for you before you ever hear about it.

“I got everythin’ approved, y’start tomorrow. N’ a ‘thank you’ would be nice, y’know.” Sonny breaks the news over dinner. God you hate these stupid dinners. Your mom’s insistent on you having dinner as a family. What kinda model family are you if you’re pretty sure that given the opportunity your own stepdad would jump your bones behind your mom’s back without a second thought?

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You grumble as you push your food around on your plate, you lost your appetite as soon as Sonny joined the table. “I know, that’s why I did it for ya. When are you gonna learn this is the only way to get ahead?” He chastises you while he digs into his own plate as your mom ignores the growing tension.

“I wanna get ahead through my own hard work, not because my mom decided to marry you.”

Sonny laughs under his breath, you really don’t know how the real world works do you? It makes him wonder if he was ever this naive when he was your age. “It’s all about who ya know, sweetheart. ‘Hard work’ only gets ya so far.” He tells you like it's no big deal that the system’s built to favor the wealthy and connected.

“Let’s talk about something else, huh?” Your mom pipes up suddenly, stopping your bickering in its tracks.

“You’re comin’ with me tomorrow. That’s final.” Sonny ends the conversion.

+

This wasn’t at all what you had in mind when he mentioned an internship. You would think that an internship involves actual work and not being a glorified coffee runner, but unfortunately for you that’s exactly what an internship is. Oh, and it’s not paid either. He conveniently left out that part.

Being around Sonny is the worst part by far. The way he brags about you to his coworkers as if he has anything to do with your success so far. As if you don’t despise him entirely.

“This one here? Top of their class, I’m tellin’ ya.” Sonny brags to a coworker as he catches you passing by in the hallway. Wrapping his arm around you, he smiles down at you like you’re his pride and joy.

“Well, they’re learning from the best, huh? Following in their Dad’s footsteps.” His coworker chimes in.

Forcing a polite smile, you nod in agreement. You would have walked away by this point if it weren’t for how tight Sonny’s arm is wrapped around you. You pretend not to notice the way his hand brushes over your ass when he finally releases you.

With each day that passes you wait for the tides to turn. Eventually someone will have to give you a real task to do, right? You always make sure to go to Sonny’s office last for lunch orders, putting it off for as long as you can.

“Y’know, a smile would do ya good. Nobody likes a stuck up intern.” He reprimands you one afternoon.

“I smile with everyone else, not you.” You inform him as you finish writing down his order harshly.

“Is that really how you’re gonna treat your old man?” Sonny knows exactly how to push your buttons, and calling himself your dad is a surefire way to upset you.

Your reply comes like clockwork. “You’re not my real dad.”

“Heard it a thousand times before, sweetheart. Now go off an’ make ya self useful.”

Sonny makes sure to keep an eye on you when he can. He watches the way you smile and nod with everyone else, how you come across so eager to please. He knew you protesting the internship was all bullshit, you’ll take any opportunity that comes your way. And good, you should. He didn’t raise a quitter.

He can’t help but be jealous of the way you act with his coworkers. The smiles you give them that he never gets to see, how hard you’re trying to make a good impression. And not once have you thanked him for this opportunity, yet here you were soaking up every second of it. How ungrateful could you get?

By the end of the week you never want to see a cup of coffee ever again, you don’t know how you’ll ever stand to drink it yourself anymore. Sonny was working late into the evening and he was your ride. You told him you’ll find your own way home, but he was insistent that it’ll only be a little longer. That was hours ago.

Tired of organizing anything and everything you could get your hands on you make your way to Sonny’s office. “I have to talk to you.” You tell him as you stand in the middle of his office, defiant as ever.

“Alright, have at it.” Sonny tells you without looking up from his paperwork.

“Am I ever actually going to learn anything here? Or am I supposed to just get you lunch for the next four months?” Sonny scribbles away at the paper in front of him like you’re not even there. “It’s been a week, ya have to give it time.”

“So, I have to prove that I’ll be a good lawyer by how well I take your fucking coffee orders? This is a waste of my time– you know I’m overqualified for this.” You rant, and not once does Sonny look up.

“Can you at least look at me when I’m talking to you?”

With a quirk of his eyebrow Sonny puts his pen down as he looks up at you. “Everyone has to start somewhere. You think you’re special or somethin’?” He’s starting to grow tired with the way you seemingly have an issue with everything he does, even when he’s trying to help.

“It’s– it’s degrading.”

“I thought ya didn’t want any handouts.” Sonny argues but you stand firm.

“I don’t. But I’m not going to waste my time in a position that undervalues me.” He wonders where you got all that stubbornness from, not your meek and mild mother that’s for sure.

As irritating as you are, he has to admit he likes it. The spark in your eyes whenever you’re mad, the way you huff and cross your arms during every argument. It has him thinking about how badly he wants to fuck that defiance right out of you until you can’t walk straight. Now that’s a thought.

“Y’know, someone outta fix that fuckin’ attitude of yours.” Sonny’s voice is as cold as ice as he rises from his desk, eyes boring into yours.

“Excuse me?” You reply in utter disbelief. Sonny’s been stern before, sure. But not like this.

“I’m sick n’ tired of the attitude. Y’know many kids in your classes would be dyin’ for the opportunities you complain’ about? Jus’ how ungrateful are ya?” Sonny sneers at you as his brows furrow.

Your cheeks burn from embarrassment when you realize he’s legitimately angry with you. “I’m not–”

“Callin’ a fuckin’ internship degradin’. You think this is degradin’?” The thought flashes in Sonny’s mind before he can stop it. “Get over here.”

“Huh– what?” You stammer but Sonny’s never been one to repeat himself. Before you can react he’s shoving you over his desk and kicking your legs apart. “I’ll show ya what degradin’ is.” He growls in your ear as he bends you over the desk.

His hands dig into your skin as he maneuvers you roughly, he’s so much stronger than you that he moves you like a ragdoll.

“Battin’ your eyes at everyone all day n’ then comin’ in here to give me attitude. You’re nothin’ but a stupid slut aren’t ya?”

Your mind spins as you try to comprehend what was happening. “What? No, I—“ you’re cut off by Sonny roughly pulling your pants down to your ankles while your heart pounds out of your chest. He can’t do this. He wouldn’t, right? Was there a part of you that wants him to?

You never find your answer before you feel the warmth of Sonny’s large hand rest on your ass before digging his fingers into your soft supple flesh. “Tired of how ungrateful you’ve been actin’. I’ve given you everythin’ haven’t I?”

You’re met with a shooting pain as Sonny’s hand sharply smacks your ass, making your whole body jolt. “Answer me, sweetheart.” Suddenly the pet name feels laced with venom.

“Y-You have— I’m sorry.” Your voice gets caught in your throat.

“Sorry, what?” Sonny asks as his hand meets your ass again. “I don’t know—“ you whine in pain as you hang your head, only for Sonny to pull you back sharply by the hair.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” He corrects you. “Say it.”

With a shaky breath you oblige, “I-I’m sorry… Daddy.” The word feels foreign rolling off of your tongue. Sonny roughly turns your head towards him to press his lips against yours, giving you little to no time to react before shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s messy and rough and you hate that you can feel how wet you’re getting from him treating you like this.

As much as Sonny would love to take his time with you, considering how long he’s been waiting to get you like this, he’s well aware of the time crunch that comes with fucking you in his office. You hear his belt hit the floor followed by a zipper and you swallow harshly. He was really doing this.

“All I’ve ever wanted was the best for ya, n’ there’s never even a damn thank you.” You gasp as the blunt head of Sonny’s cock notches your throbbing hole. “Ya damn mother never taught ya manners, huh? Guess it’s up to me, then.”

Sonny groans as he pushes himself further inside your tight little hole. Your body tenses at the sudden intrusion as you feel every ridge of his cock slide against your walls. “Wait–” you choke out, “Y–You have to slow down.”

Sonny ignores your pleas as you grip onto the edge of his desk in pain and the only thing you can think about is the burning sensation of his cock stretching you out. “Ohh fuck– so fuckin’ tight, baby. Jesus.”

With a deep groan Sonny nestles himself inside you and you can feel the rough fabric of his pants press against your bare thighs. His fingers grip your hips tightly and much to your surprise he gives you a second to adjust.

“Oh I know, it’s big huh?” Sonny mocks you as your chest heaves. “Should’a thought about that before actin’ so damn selfish, then maybe ya wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.” Lie. He knew he’d end up buried inside you one way or another.

“Gonna teach ya some manners, okay? Wanna hear you thankin’ me for everythin’ I’ve done for ya all these years.”

Your mouth falls open at the first experimental thrust of his hips as you nod, what choice did you have but to agree? You watch as the picture frames on his desk threaten to fall over by the force of his thrusts, and you realize you can faintly make out an old picture of you and him off to the side of his desk.

You find yourself staring at it as his cock drills into you over and over again, your own smiling face looking back at you.

Snapping you out of your trance Sonny harshly tugs your head back, growling in your ear. “I wanna hear ya say it. Say ‘thank you, Dad.’” Your eyes flutter close from a particularly harsh thrust as he pulls your hips against him.

“T–thank you, Dad.” Shame mixed with the faintest hint of arousal washes over you as the words leave your mouth.

“Thank you for what? Gotta be more specific than that if ya wanna make it up t’me.” Sonny’s hips slam against yours and with every thrust you cry out exactly what he wants to hear.

“Thank you for taking care of me…” you sob as the desk shakes, the framed picture of you now shattered on the ground. “Thank you for getting me the internship, thank you for–for helping me.”

The room fills with the lewd sound of Sonny’s grunts mixed with the wet sound of his cock pounding into you relentlessly. Lucky for you both he’s pretty sure you’re the only two left at this hour. “What are ya thankful for right now? Thankful for Daddy makin’ ya feel good?”

It’s hard to think straight with how rough he’s fucking you. A high-pitched whine escapes you when he hits that special spot deep inside you and you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“T–thank you–” you pant as the head of his cock kisses your cervix repeatedly. “Thank you for making me feel good…Thank you for…for fucking me.” You cry out in shame.

“This is what ya needed, huh? Jus’ needed Dad’s cock to remind ya how to behave?” Sonny teases you as his hand slips underneath you to rub your clit, determined to watch you fall apart knowing it’s because of him. You nod as your knees buckle from the feeling, so fucked out you don’t even know what you’re agreeing with.

It doesn’t take much to get you to cum, after just a minute or two of Sonny’s long thick fingers rubbing your clit you’re a goner. Collapsing against his desk your walls pulse around his cock, body tensing as his hand clamps over your mouth. You moan harshly into his hand as your eyes close tight, your whole body going limp as your orgasm shatters through you.

“That’s it sweetheart, fuckin’ cum all over Daddy’s cock. Bein’ such a good little whore–” Sonny moans as he chases his own release. His hips slam against you as you wince with every thrust. Breathing labored and uneven, Sonny furiously pounds into your poor abused hole as you clench down on him.

“Fuck– fuck, baby, take all of it–” Sonny hisses through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead. It’s been awhile since he’s had a fuck like this, if ever. He never thought he’d get to have you like this, sobbing over his cock and not those boys you waste your time with.

“Shoulda done this a long time ago, maybe that woulda fixed that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

Without warning Sonny quickly pulls out of you completely as you cry from the sudden emptiness. “Fuckin– c’mere,” he tells you sharply as he turns you around before roughly shoving you down on your knees in front of him.

“Once ya prove to me you’re not such an ungrateful whore maybe I’ll think about cummin’ inside ya.”

You watch as he furiously pumps his cock, fist slapping against his belly as he works himself over. Your eyes are transfixed on the way his brows furrow as he pants heavily as he gets closer and closer.

Sonny stares down at your face, those pretty glazed over eyes of yours wide in bewilderment. Those lips that do nothing but talk back to him. He wonders how pretty they’ll look wrapped around his cock next time.

The thought alone is enough to have Sonny hurtling over the edge. “Fuck– there it is, Sit there n’ take it, don’t ya dare fuckin’ move.” Sonny groans before shooting ropes of his hot sticky cum all over you and paints your face in his cum.

“Ohh, that’s fuckin’ good–” he hisses as he milks every drop of his cum onto your lips.

You stay still like you’re told, eyes closing in discomfort as you feel the stickiness coat your face. You never notice Sonny taking his phone out to snap a picture of you.

Tilting your chin up to look at him, he swipes some cum on his thumb, pushing it into your mouth to give you a taste. Your frown from the salty and musky taste, you don’t think you like it much.

“Jesus– look at ya. Don’t think you’ve looked prettier, baby.” Sonny teases as your cheeks turn red. “Did ya learn ya lesson?” Sonny asks seriously as he tightly grips your jaw in his hand.

“Y-yes, Dad. I won’t be ungrateful anymore. Promise.” You tell him earnestly and Sonny nods in approval. “N’ ya won’t tell your mother about this either, got it?”

Pleased with your nod of agreement Sonny tosses you a handkerchief from his pocket, leaving you to clean yourself up and find the rest of your clothes. You wince from the pain between your legs as you all but collapse on the leather couch in his office.

Returning to his desk to finish up his work he pays you no mind, like you’re not even there anymore. The truth is, he’s already planning what he wants to do to you next.

[betty-fran]

While talking to N recently about Star Trek (all my recent chatting leads to this, and I'm pretty sure my sister hates it), we got caught up in the topic of utopianism and how it's depicted in TOS, which got me thinking about a couple of things, so it's a little not-really-quality-near-philosophical rambling...

We tend to perceive the idea of ​​utopia as that promised land, that ultimate outcome to which humanity should strive, the pure creation that is opposed to the absolute destruction of dystopia. But in our multi-tonal, ambiguous, contradictory world, where change is the only constant and where the constancy of laws is only an attempt to resist the chaos of entropy, this forever remains in the realm of the impossible, and utopian becomes a household word for naive, idealistic dreams, completely disconnected from reality. And in this perception, in my opinion, we lose the most important idea that the concept of utopia carries, and which completely changes the angle of its perception and attitude towards it. Utopia is not an ultimate outcome, but a striving towards it. Not the destination, but the journey itself. The path that we can choose. We'll never reach this abstract ideal world, because it contradicts existence itself, but we can try to become better and kinder ourselves.

And that's the utopianism of the original Star Trek. The 23rd century we're shown (obviously) isn't perfect, but it's striving for it. TOS, and this is probably the most accurate comparison I've found for myself, is a kind of message in a bottle left to us by Roddenberry. It tells us not "this is what the ideal future should be like," but "this is what the path to it should be like." And there is a noticeable difference between these two things.

The very structure of the plot in TOS, its similarity to the Odyssey in this journey lost in time and space (and emphasized isolated in it), makes it almost mythological. This is read in how the Enterprise, making its way through deep space, like that bottle with a message, carries within itself all the best that humanity is, but in a certain way, separates itself from the rest of the world. And this brings me back to thoughts that the 23rd century's reality that we are shown (obviously) isn't perfect, and that a (quite unconventional) captain like Kirk, as well as his (no less unconventional) entire crew, is still more of an exception than a rule there. Contrary to my expectations (largely dictated by what I've seen about him before), TOS Kirk as a character is generally very far from this idea of ​​Starfleet's golden boy and the model captain. That's what you could say about Pike, but Kirk, while obviously a good captain, is much more of a pirate than a soldier. In general, they are both, Kirk and Spock are not portrayed as people who truly fit into the environment in which they were raised. And although this is more logically explained in Spock, who has objective difficulties with (not) belonging to both of his heritages and is constantly in a state of in-between, it is in Kirk that it's especially feeling, in his, let's say, absolute impossibility of being not himself in the full (rather theatrical) manifestation of this, being inscribed in any specific normative role, which is noticeable both in his gender ambivalence/personal flexibility/amazing ability to change and in his frank discomfort with any roles that restrict his deeply personal freedom, and strangely enough, his integrity as a character is most fully expressed precisely in this chameleon-like versatility.

It was in @anghraine 's post about Kirk's queerness : "This is not only a vision of the future in general. It's a vision of the future that is decidedly imperfect but better enough to produce someone like this as a starship captain." and it very aptly and succinctly captures the very essence of what TOS is, and it really stuck in my head. Both K and S face some non-acceptance and rejection from others throughout the series, and they both have this "I only belong here on the bridge next to my people" mentality, not so much because it's their professional choice, but because it's really the only place where they can be themselves most fully, which feels like a certain conflict with the outside world (not that Vulcans or most Starfleet members are really particularly unorthodox), but at the same time, they can both exist in this space as they are, and be able to influence changes and try to make the world a little better, more open, more just, and less restricted. And importantly, while they are undoubtedly not-like-anyone different, they are not really forced to change themselves in TOS.

And this was, in my opinion, completely lost in the sequel films [esp post-Roddenberry], which gave rise to both subsequent Kirk drift, and the general gradual moving away from utopianism and the emergence of Section 31, and which after TOS feel like a grounding, giving me a rather joyless feeling of longing for a lost dream, and where all the characters, and especially Kirk, try to fit into some much more socially acceptable, normative roles, thus seemingly reinforcing this concept of returning from heaven to earth, that they as they were in TOS cannot fit into this environment, this bitter understanding that there are things that will never be acceptable and understandable in society, there are parts of you that you have to lose, hide to survive in the real world, and it's all leaving TOS behind as a long-forgotten dream, a stolen moment of fullness of being. It feels less like the still imperfect, but moving towards it, reality of the original series, and more like the not-at-all-utopian side of 80s/familiar present. And while the films themselves are good, and have their own very special (a little bit sad-painful) charm, they completely contradict TOS in something very important to me personally, which makes me look at these things absolutely separately from each other (N and I are in the process of watching films now, and it gives us both mixed feelings). Even if we read this as an attempt to show the transition from youth to maturity, this inevitability of growing up-aging in which you must necessarily change, lose something visceral about yourself, and instead take on some socially acceptable role, I find this a rather outdated and not very healthy concept, because normal growing up-aging is not about losing yourself at all, but about returning to your true self, and taking into account everything that was shown to us in TOS, psychological changes that have occurred in characters in films are quite sad, and I really want to ask what happened during that time that made this possible? (envy of Star Wars' success and the lust for money, obviously, but that's another story).

In any case, I find that I discovered TOS somehow very timely for myself, and although I often see how TOS is perceived as a non-serious, pretty awkward, funny thing, I find it surprisingly meaningful, and for me, it's objectively a much more interesting thing to reflect on, and a much more important thing to take into the future.

Maybe it's all Roddenberry's spirit whispering in my ear that I should get back into filmmaking (and finally finish my deferred master's degree) so that one day I can reshoot this story.

[sanotymanjiro]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝙧𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞

𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩

fluff, soft, set in whatever timeline the reader wants, high school ran violence, some swearing

💎ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ran never complained whenever you dragged him around the mall for hours and when you would whine about being unsure about something that wasn’t an issue either because his card was already swiped. he loved spoiling you and loved seeing the excitement buzzing out of you whenever you would show him a new outfit you found and was trying on. today was no different. a gentle smile painted onto his face, lilac eyes glowing with something warm covered up by playful banter and teasing.

y/n: are you sure? i feel like this one's a bit too skimpy...

ran: exactly, that's the point.

y/n, shoving him playfully: ran! you creep.

ran: i'm a creep for wanting to see my girl all dolled up?

you smiled awkwardly at the knowing glance the fitting room worker flashed your way and nudged ran but he wasn't at all bothered by it and continued teasing you. as usual, the two of you left the store with yet another paper bag wrapped around his slender wrist. the older haitani had such beautiful hands but every time you suggested hand modelling to him he would shoot you down with flirtatious words like 'these hands are only for your eyes though pretty' and you would just give it up. after seeing the 17 bags accumulated around his wrist you decided to drag him to a food stall because you felt kind of bad and knowing ran he would probably try to drag you into another store just to spend more if he knew you felt that way, he loved getting on your nerves especially since you could never stay mad at him for it.

the two of you slide into a small crepe stall and this time you treat him earning a raised brow from him but he agrees, on the conditions that you feed him so you do just that. when you finally manage to wolf your own crepe down, you attempt to reach the tissues but just when you grab them, soft and all too familiar hands wrap around yours, gently taking the napkins from your hand but when you turn to face him ran leans in, cleaning your mouth for you with a tender gaze that made your heart ache. he really loved spoiling you.

stretching your arms above your head you yawn softly only to spot a flash out of the corner of your eye and ran mumbling 'shit' to himself at accidentally being caught taking secret photos of you so you tilt your head slightly giving him a questioning smile while his eyes dart from your face to the screen he has caged between his large palms protecting it from your view but that only piques your interest further.

y/n: hmmm?~ what was that?~

ran: accident.

y/n: whaaat? show me!

ran: its nothing-

you tickle and attack him playfully both of you giggling softly while wrestling for his phone until you're interrupted but the sound of heavy footsteps growing louder with each passing second.

gang member 1: oi its haitani!

gang member 2: holy shit it is him!

ran's playful attitude reserved for you only instantly vanishes and he has you pressed into his back within seconds, as if shielding you not only from the incoming threat but the whole world itself. you don't hear exactly what the guys say but notice how unbothered your boyfriend seems, even as they call him horrible names but when they call him your 'bitch' that has you at your wits end and you're no longer able to put up with them insulting your precious boyfriend even if he doesn't seem to care. you push ran out the way slightly, kicking off the chunky shoes ran had bought you earlier when you complained about your sandals strap drilling between your toes, lifting it in your throwing hand, and show them all the former javelin star of tokyo high school by landing it square in one of the guy's nose. he staggers back as blood pools into his hands and ran snaps out of his surprise, a slight curve now visible in his lip and eyes dancing with amusement as he moves you to stand behind him again, handing you the bags before springing into action.

you can't deny that you're impressed to see ran take down most of them with ease especially considering you had always thought he and his brother were a pair and so were individually a bit weak but boy were you wrong. he tore through them like a lion hunting a heard of zebras, brows slightly focused, beads of sweat sliding down his temple and those same purple eyes emptied as he stares the group down, forcing them to retreat. only once ran is definitely sure its over does he slowly make his way back to you, your discarded shoe from earlier dangling from two slender fingers, eyes automatically soft and tender, braids swaying with every step he takes. ran's eyes don't leave yours as he crouches slowly, rough hands holding your foot as if it's fragile, as if it were made of glass, and his eyes dart down to it, brushing it softly with a gaze so focused it steals your breath away. he's patient and gentle as he slides it back onto your foot, brows furrowed slightly as his focus is entirely centred on tying a symmetrical bow out of your laces just the way you like them, something about it being considered 'cute' among girls. once your shoe is back in place he sets your foot down before rising to his full height again.

ran, signature smirk filling his features once more: there, all pretty again.

you feel a slight heat rise at the back of your neck and flood into your cheeks as your eyes remain locked on ran's and in a spur of the moment, ran is hunched just slightly, but enough for you to hop onto your tiptoes, steadying your hands on his shoulders and pressing a soft peck onto his plush lips. the response is immediate, ran haitani, the playboy who's been with a dozen other girls blushes like an innocent schoolboy and in more ways than one he may be, at least when it comes to you - he was soft for you. you don't dare to turn yet, not with the tomato shade staining your face right now and the stupidly shy smile hacking into your lips at your failure to supress it.

y/n, already speed walking away: l-lets go home...movie marathon!

ran, a dumb grin on his face and fingers intertwining with yours as he catches up: my tv is bigger so my place~

and this time you don't argue because you don't need to. ran haitani loves you and you love him, so no matter how many gang enemies try to harm you, they never will so long as ran is with you and no matter how much they insult him, you would stand up for him every time and have his back; you would have each other, always.

2025 @sanotymanjiro

[catamount7755]

Thoughts on the new episode??

I JUST FINISHED IT OMG IT WAS SOO GOOODDD ‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥 I'm going to list my thoughts under the cut!!!

SPOILERS FOR DIGITAL CIRCUS EP 5 BELOW (you asked for thoughts and by god you're gonna get'em)

Okay there is a lot to unpack here so I'm going in order of the adventures!

Poacher's Paradise:

1. Jax being feral absolutely killed me, YES BOY REJECT YOUR HUMANITY

2. Love the Gangle rhino design :^] very creative

President Pomni:

1. JAX STOP TALKING TO THE CAMERA !!!

2. Kinger where did you get that baby head..also your favorite color is,, black?? Blue?

3. Gangle sweetie your doing amazing 💕 shes such a good actress

Slice of Life:

1. WHAT A DELIGHTFUL SUPRISE

2. Everyone looks so adorable in their school outfits!! Gangle especially, also Kinger as the teacher !! Just,, so much fun!

3. Zooble backing up Gangle that's right! get that rabbit's ass!

Stargazing:

1. Jax letting his wall down for pomni and asking if gangle could be happy? Does he want her to be happy? Does he think he's helping her become tougher by bullying her? (He says she likes when he's mean to her like he *knows* that)

2. Jax *had* a friend, and now he doesn't. Ragatha saying this tells us so much and yet so little. It seems either someone Jax was close with abstracted, or that Jax was being so unpleasant that it drove someone away (and then to possible abstraction).

3. Ragatha girl I love you so much, I'm begging you to learn how to communicate negative emotions so you're not saying shit that drives Jax further away.

4. We hate to see Jax and Pomni bonding// joking

5. Jax had a tail at one point and,, lost it??? Where did it go??

[THE INTERMISSION WAS SPECTACULAR]

Cocktail Bar:

1. Zooble bartender real omg they're so me fr I love mixology!! zooble can we hang, I'll give you my number (platonically)

2. As far as occupations go- ""Youtuber"" pomni did catch me off guard, and I didn't expect realtor ragatha either. Also ragatha I understand you <<<has not seen breaking bad

3. Ragatha apology to Gangle ‼️ Poor thing, I'd be so embarrassed if I said dumb shit while crossfaded. Gangle's smile of reassurance to Ragatha made me scream (<positive) they do not hate each other ‼️

4. Jax what is your deal with corn. I have to know what is wrong with this guy

Softball Game: OH BOY HERE WE GO

1. I am so in love with any screen time the evil clones have. I have nothing more to say I just love them so much.

2. Interesting that this is Ragatha's suggestion, her berating herself when she fumbles her turn leads me to beleive this is something she really trained at when she was younger. I get the feeling those are more her mother's words than her own...

3. I AM DISSAPPEARING GUY'S BIGGEST FAN

4. Zooble trying to rile Jax up by having gangle suggest the maid outfit was foul 😭 It realllyy got under his skin, which seems like something that hasn't really happened yet.

5. Ragatha who hurt you (we know now) to make you think you have to be positive 24/7, girlie thinks she can't even lightly vent about a rough game without apologizing...

6. Jax and Ragatha fighting over their influence on pomni is giving divorced couple fighting over being a role model for their kid

7. Ragatha's batting advice helping gangle hit a home run after Jax implies that he expects her to fail 💕

8. Ragatha's expression when pomni approaches her 💕 she is fearing for her life that pomni hates her now but Pomni giving her turn to ragatha is sooo sweet of her 💕

9. There is such weird vibes for when ragatha receives praise for something she didn't even do... why did that feel so strange to me.

10. Ouguhhh pomni laughing at Jax ripping his clone apart,, ragatha catching her and realizing that pomni is warming up to him,,

11. Oh Dr. Football,,who are you.. what do you want from me...

[chunibyo-x-sorcerer]

Daichi breathes, trying to keep himself focused. Kumoshin said that there are five of them, right? So if things went sideways, he would take care of the three, just really quick with his fireballs. Then he goes back up Kumoshin with support from the sidelines with his flames. That's the best plan he can think of it. But he can't move unless Kumoshin is in trouble.

"That's it?" Sakura asked, wondering if this guy is really screwing with them. Sakura looks ready to throw hands now. Sakura is now standing in front of him, hands at his sides, glaring up towards him, sizing him up. "That's all you came here for? What? You want some ice cream or somethin?"

But then Sakura felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hold on, Sakura." Rioto tells him, "I got this." He tells him as he tells forward, and has Sakura behind him. Rioto speaks to Kumoshin "If you're here to check things out, then...what would you do if I were the one who made the ice?" Rioto asked and is basically admitting this, so there is no reason to beat around the bush. The evidence is there; however, there's more to this. "We're just here to defeat some curses causing a mess here." Rioto isn't as impulsive as he wants to be because he has to be a role model for his squadron and Sakura in general.

He was told by Iku that Sakura is mpulsive when it comes to shitty things like this and he has no filter. At all. Just like what's happening now.

So, Rioto had to show Sakura the reins of how Oda does things, especially dealing with sorcerers from Jujutsu Tech. Believe it or not, but this is his first time meeting one as well. All he is told is to be careful and simply state your business truthfully and wisely. Sakura and his own squadron are getting antsy at the appearance of this jujutsu tech sorcerer alone.

Just keep it cool, Rioto thought to himself. As long as they don't disrespect Oda or don't throw the first punch or anything, it's all good. "As you can see...we're part of one of the sorcerer clans, so that's all you need to know." He said while Sakura glances at Kumoshin's direction, but not directly...way past him, as he sees something in the background.

"Whose back there???" Sakura said, now scowling once more.

Movement from the corner of his vision became more lively. Looking at the split-haired guy, Kumoshin's scowl deepened. So damn bright. As he got closer, the light strained his eyes for a few seconds before waning. A blurry shape sharped with the guy in his face. Instantly stepping back, he raised his empty hand to show his palm. As much as he would drop his kanabo to show he was serious, it would also be pretty stupid to do so.

It was clear he was spouting about something beforehand, but Kumoshin didn't see any of it. He tucked his chin into his neck in confusion. What the hell is he going on about? What about him carrying a cursed tool that makes him weak? Staying out of their way to observe... was their job? If he didn't call them out, everything would have been fine as long as they weren't responsible for destroying the place. And saying what he did before was true. The horned-kid seemed to want to talk. But this guy was the one coming screaming. Sounds like it's his problem, then.

Kumoshin continued to stare down at the split-haired guy. There isn't much he could say to intimidate Kumoshin if he misses half of it. But the thought was at least amusing.

"I'm checking out the town," he repeated with a bite. Snapping his eyes into the others who seem to want nothing more than to throw hands. "And the ice." Kumoshin tweaked his head to the side, challenging this guy to step up if he really wanted to. He truly wasn't looking for anything outside of their investigation, so all of this showboating was a bunch of fucking nonsense.

He opened his mouth briefly before shutting it once more. As much as he wanted to partake in the trash-talking, now is not the time! If he were on his own, Kumoshin would have tossed the kanabo to the side and went flying. But with Daichi around... it's more complicated. He wants to be the best example there is, even if he was still sassing this odd group of... people. Can't exactly mark them as what he presumes. Not yet, anyway.

[robotsafari]

beast’s castle 2nd visit was insane

[bam-monsterhospital]

on the one hand, eso is allergic to pretty young men npcs and its engine affords absolutely ZERO aesthetic favours towards mans... which is why bastian looks wayyyyy older than 27 and craggy as hell visually.

on the other hand, his character is great and griffin puatu's performance is so goddamn wonderful and endearing that it overlays and makes up for any lacking visuals on the game's part...

all this to say, i treat drawing bastian a little like how all those oblivion fan artists approached interpreting lucien lachance back in the day.

not quite to that extent, but like, same energy.

[screambirdscreaming]

Beach sand dynamics are stupidly complicated. In some places, yes, native vegetation holds the sand together and stabilizes the dunes. In other places, invasive vegetation introduced to stabilize the dunes fucks up the cycles of where sand is eroded from and deposited, leading to dunes forming in places people don't want them even as beaches erode nearby. (Also, massive changes to the structure of coastal wetlands.)

Whether waves deposit sand on a beach, or erode it away, has to do with the beach slope, the sand particle size, the angle at which waves approach, the wavelength and amplitude of the waves..... A guest lecturer for my coastal engineering class told us that, when running computer models of erosion and deposition responses to proposed beach projects like this, you're lucky if you end up in the right order of magnitude.

Beaches are very dynamic. It's not uncommon for hundreds of tons of sand to shift on and off a beach over the course of a year, usually scoured off by winter storms and deposited back over the summer. Anything that tries to modify that process - such as to prevent the sand from scouring away past a certain point - runs the risk of massively changing the dynamics in unpredictable ways.

And then, with "beach nourishment" projects like this, there's the question of where the sand comes from - where it was mined, and what the environmental impacts of sand mining there are - as well as the question of where the sand ends up if it all erodes away like this. (Did you know there's a sand mafia? That's more to do with the mining of sand for concrete, though.)

Anyway the bottom line is: don't put your fucking house there.

You think you're "next to" the beach, but you're very much *on* the beach as far as the scope of its natural processes go. And either you're fucking those dynamics up, or they're going to fuck you up. Or both!

absolutely losing my mind that a bunch of nimby assholes spent $500k to build a sandcastle that was promptly wiped away

[aleksatia]

10 Ways You Ruin His Day (and 10 Ways You Ruin His Self-Control)

I originally made this list as character notes for future stories — I love digging deep into their dynamics and really breaking them down. But honestly? I couldn’t not share. Would love to hear your thoughts too: what do you think drives them absolutely mad, and what turns them into helpless fluff puddles? 🖤

🍎 Top 10 Things That Make Caleb Absolutely, Irrevocably Mad

1 He doesn’t know where you are Even when it makes sense. Even when you’re safe. Even when he’s on the far side of a tunnel with no signal and too much time to think. The silence eats at him, turns every breath into a countdown. By the time he’s back, no one on the base dares talk to him until you’re in his line of sight again.

2 You come home with a bouquet of flowers from another man It’s not jealousy, really. It’s… fury dressed in olive green. You’re standing there, smiling, saying some poor man gave you flowers because you saved his life. Great. Fantastic. Caleb’s thrilled that his girlfriend is both competent and accidentally irresistible. But now he has to pretend this isn’t bothering him while mentally comparing the man's face to strategic punching surfaces.

3 You climb on unstable furniture to reach something You know, nothing fancy—just a stack of books on top of a chair that’s on top of a bench. And you? Balancing like a gremlin in fuzzy socks. He walks in and suddenly the war flashbacks begin. You think it’s funny. He thinks it’s a workplace hazard, and you are the HR violation.

4 You rearrange his model planes He adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. Would throw himself in front of an oncoming dropship for you. But if you dust his shelf and dare to reorder his starfighters and aircrafts by vibes instead of model number? He's already rewriting his will. In blood.

5 You do something reckless and then smile about it You say “relax, I had a plan.” He hears: “I almost died, and I’d do it again, because I’m cute and unstoppable.” That smile? That grin you give when you know exactly what you did and you’re proud of it? That’s why he needs stress meds. And maybe a punching bag with your face on it. (Lovingly.)

6 You casually mention the girl he used to date You say it with a smirk, like it’s just some harmless teenage memory. But he doesn’t see her—he sees you. You, standing in the doorway that day. You, catching him with her, both of them half-undressed. And you looking at him like something cracked between you. Back then, you were off-limits. You were the girl he wasn’t allowed to want. So he wanted someone else. Easier. Safer. And now, years later, you bring it up like it’s nothing—while he’s still trying not to remember how badly he wished it had been you.

7 You weren’t his first kiss—but worse, he wasn’t yours It never comes up. Not out loud. But he remembers. Vividly. The hallway. The way your face lit up. The boy leaning in. You smiling. And Caleb—watching from across the room, fists clenched, jaw tight, playing the role of older brother when his whole body screamed mine. You never talk about it. But he never forgot. Never will. Because that moment should’ve been his—and someone else took it first.

8 You walk away during a fight, or shut down emotionally You call it “space.” He calls it “psychological warfare.” You shut down. He short-circuits. Nothing drives him more insane than trying to fix something while you’re actively ghosting him across the living room. He’d rather you screamed. Threw something. Anything. But this quiet? This distance? That’s the one thing he doesn’t know how to fight.

9 You cry—especially if it’s because of him And then he’s done. Game over. His spine straightens like he’s under military command and his entire soul just went through the paper shredder. You cry, and suddenly he’s the villain. You say “it’s not your fault,” but that doesn’t matter. He’s already rewriting the past and taking full responsibility. And yes, he’ll suffer in complete silence. Like a man.

10 You secretly try to uncover what he’s hiding from you You call it curiosity. He calls it a breach of protocol punishable by full emotional lockdown. You think you’re clever. He thinks you just walked into classified territory barefoot, blindfolded, and with a target on your back. You were never supposed to see that side of his world. And now that you have? He doesn’t know whether to yell, hold you, or lock you in a room with military-grade firewalls and a blanket.

🍎 Top 10 Things That Turn Caleb Into a Complete Fluff-Mess

You wearing his dog tags / uniform shirt / flight jacket Instant puddle. No chance. He sees you in his gear and his brain just... shuts off. All he can think is mine mine mine, and he gets this dumb, soft little smirk like he’s trying so hard not to combust.

You falling asleep on him—especially mid-conversation You’re curled into his side, mumbling something about dinner plans, and then: silence. He looks down, sees you asleep on his chest, and that’s it. Whole day ruined. Cancel all missions. He’s not moving.

You bringing him coffee exactly the way he likes it—without asking That quiet, thoughtful act? Hits him right in the soldier-shaped heart. He doesn’t even know how to process being taken care of, so he stares at the cup like it just proposed to him.

You absentmindedly touching him—fiddling with his fingers, tracing scars, playing with his hair He pretends he doesn’t care. He does. He cares so much he forgets how to breathe. Just turns into a warm, red-eared statue trying not to whimper.

You whispering “I trust you” or “I feel safe with you” in a soft moment Core memory unlocked. He stores that one like sacred intel. Will literally whisper it back to himself at 3 AM when he’s lying awake, missing you. It breaks him in the best way.

You clinging to him in your sleep / pulling him closer without waking up Caleb.exe has stopped functioning. He will lie perfectly still for HOURS if it means not disturbing that moment. Bonus points if you mumble his name while doing it.

You defending him when someone questions his methods or past He’s used to being the shield—not having someone stand in front of him. The second you raise your voice on his behalf? He falls in love with you all over again. Might even cry. Secretly.

You gently helping him out of his gear after a long day Soft hands on his buckles. A kiss to his shoulder. A low “You’re home now.” That’s how you make a Colonel melt. His fingers twitch like he wants to worship the ground you walk on.

You surprising him with something dumb and heartfelt, like a handmade gift or bad sketch of him He acts gruff—says “the hell is this, Pips?”—but then puts it in his locker or keeps it in his chest pocket for missions like it’s sacred treasure. Because it is.

You calling him “baby” / “handsome” / “sweetheart” when he least expects it He acts like it’s annoying. It is not annoying. It turns him into actual butter. If you do it with a teasing smile? He short-circuits. Might drop something. Might combust. Definitely blushes.

🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne’s Calm Snap Like a Microsurgical Thread

You ignore his instructions when you're sick You had a fever of 102°F. He left explicit care instructions—bed rest, fluids, minimal movement. You, sweating and glassy-eyed, decided this was the perfect time to rearrange the furniture. When he came home and found you dragging a bookshelf across the room “because the light felt wrong,” he genuinely considered sedating you. Not as punishment. As damage control. For both of you.

You order greasy fast food instead of going somewhere “nutritionally viable” He offered to cook. You said no. Twenty minutes later, you’re eating fries from a paper bag while half of it spills on his clean table. You grin. He stares. Not angry at the food. Angry because you rejected his precision, then settled for processed chaos.

You leave wet towels on the floor after every shower He’s not sure when it started. Day three? Day five? But every time he walks into the bathroom and steps into cold, soggy cotton, something in him fractures. You claim you “forget.” He suspects a psychological experiment.

You casually mention spending time with male friends You think it’s harmless. Lunch with Caleb. Training advice from Xavier. You light up when you talk about them—and that’s the problem. Zayne doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t raise a brow. But the sudden over-fixation on his email inbox says everything.

You receive a speeding ticket. Forty miles over the limit. You wave it off like it’s a funny little anecdote. He sits in absolute silence, calculating the stopping distance of your car vs. standard reaction time at that speed. You think he’s judging. He’s actually trying not to scream.

You poke his ass. Specifically, between the cheeks. You call it “affection.” He calls it “emotional terrorism.” He flinches like he’s been electrocuted, whips around with murder in his eyes—and you’re giggling like a gremlin. Later, you regret nothing, but your thighs may beg to differ.

When you diagnose him with internet psychology You’ve read one book on attachment styles and watched three reels about emotional unavailability. Now you’ve decided he has "clinical avoidant tendencies with a hint of fear-based control fixation." He stares at you, deadpan, like he's about to perform your autopsy.

You keep spoiled food in the fridge and expired meds in the cabinet You say “it doesn’t smell that bad” or “maybe it still works.” His eye twitches. His gloves are already on. He’s not even mad at you—he’s mad at entropy. You’ve become its agent.

You watch reality shows. About infidelity. Willingly. You claim it’s “just background noise.” But he walks in and hears someone scream “that’s not even your baby, Kyle!” and your eyes are glued to the screen. His soul briefly leaves his body.

You washed his white lab coat. With your pink unicorn pajamas. It’s not just the color. It’s the betrayal. The symbol of his clinical neutrality now smells like bubblegum and looks like cotton candy. You say it’s cute. He looks personally violated by the washing machine.

🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne Soft Against His Will

You bring him lunch at the hospital He never asks. You just appear—arms full of neatly packed containers, face lit up like this isn’t the third double shift he’s worked this week. He complains about the timing. The smell. The disruption. And then eats every bite with frightening focus. You leave. He stares at the empty container like it’s proof someone still believes he’s human.

You quote him back to himself like a philosopher You remember something he said weeks ago—some throwaway line about time or structure or entropy—and you drop it casually in conversation, like it’s wisdom from an ancient text. He doesn’t know how to react. You turned his logic into poetry, and he’ll never recover from that.

You wear the little seal keychain he made He didn’t think you’d keep it. Let alone turn it into your everyday keychain. But there it is—always with you, worn smooth from touch. You twirl it absentmindedly while talking to him, never noticing the way his gaze lingers. Never realizing how something so small can hit him so hard.

You put a photo of the two of you on his desk It appears one day. No fanfare. Just… there. A moment frozen in light, sitting quietly beside his surgical reports and diagnostic schematics. At first, he moves it to the edge. Then back to center. Now it lives next to his pen. He doesn’t talk about it. But it’s the only object on that desk he wipes clean with his bare hand.

His work shirt smells like you You borrowed it that morning, wore it while dancing around the apartment with wet hair and no real purpose. Hours later, when he pulls it on between rounds, the scent hits him like a loaded memory. He short-circuits mid-button. Everything feels warmer than it should.

You leave your phone with him while you shower No password. No hesitation. You toss it into his lap with a breezy “can you clear out whatever’s making it lag?” and vanish behind steam. He sits there, phone in hand, suddenly trusted with everything. He opens nothing. But the fact that you’d let him? That’s the part that shakes him.

You ask for his opinion on minor discomforts A papercut. A weird freckle. A suspicious sneeze. You hold out your hand, utterly serious, asking what he thinks. It’s laughable. Ridiculous. And it absolutely wrecks him. You could ask a dozen others—but you ask him. Like he’s the one who makes things better.

You’re on top He likes control. Precision. Strategy. But when you climb into his lap, all instinct and fire, hands braced on his chest and lips already parted—his brain stops cooperating. There’s something about you taking the lead that makes him unravel. Quietly. Violently. Completely.

You argue with him about complex theories—and mean it You don’t just nod. You push back. You challenge. You quote sources he hasn’t thought about in years. You spark. You flare. And he watches, fascinated, lips twitching with something dangerously close to pride. No one does this. No one dares. But you? You never flinch.

You whisper “I love you” in your sleep It’s not loud. It’s not even clear. Just a faint breath in the dark, like a dream half-remembered. But he hears it. Every time. And though he never says a word in return—not while you're sleeping—his fingers tighten around your waist like he's anchoring himself to the only thing that matters.

🎨 Top 10 Things That Make Rafayel Absolutely, Irrevocably Annoyed at You

You told him his painting was “nice” You stood in front of a piece that cost him three sleepless nights, a minor existential crisis, and two broken brushes—and said “Nice.” Just like that. No gasp, no poetry, no tears. He aged five years on the spot. Somewhere in the distance, a violin cried for him.

You dragged him to a cat exhibit You thought it would be cute. Enrichment. A bonding experience. Instead, he spent the entire time perched on edge, eyes darting like prey. You said “they’re just kittens.” He said nothing. He was too busy making sure none of them came closer than ten feet.

You cleaned his studio You thought you were being helpful. But you moved The Pile. The sacred, unholy, perfectly calibrated mess. Now he can’t find his favorite brush, and also he’s deeply offended by how cheerful you looked doing it.

You didn’t reply to his messages for over an hour He sent three texts, one meme, and a “thinking of you 💭” voice note. You replied 67 minutes later with “sry was showering.” By then, he’d already decided you were breaking up with him, joining a cult, or possibly dead. He had a whole monologue planned. And now you’ve ruined it.

You cut your hair He loved your long hair. Adored it. Worshipped it. You showed up with a sharp little bob and said “it’s just hair.” It is not just hair. It is the collapse of a visual era. He’s still adjusting. And by adjusting, he means mourning with wine.

You made fun of his driving You muttered “technically, you were meant to let the tram go first” He muttered “technically, silence is golden.” His driving is instinct. Vibe. Energy. If you didn’t want drama, you shouldn’t have sat in the passenger seat of a man who parallel parks like he’s in a ballet.

You woke him up too early He went to bed at 4 a.m. because inspiration struck. You woke him at 7:12 like it was nothing, and said “you have that interview, remember?” He does remember. He also remembers specifically telling you that if he ever falls asleep before sunrise, you are to let him die peacefully, cancel all earthly obligations, and throw his alarm clock into the ocean where it belongs.

You hid your phone screen when a message came in You were probably teasing. Just being playful. But now he’s spiraling. Who was it? Why the secrecy? What do you have to hide? Congratulations—you’ve just activated his inner opera villain.

You got jealous Which is absurd. He’s the one who invented possessive affection. But you being jealous? That makes him unreasonably indignant. What do you mean you “didn’t like the way that gallery girl looked at him”? Of course she looked. But he didn’t see her. He saw you.

You burned the bacon You say “it’s fine.” He says it’s charcoal. The entire kitchen smells like culinary war crimes. And now he’ll have to burn incense and replant three garden beds to recover emotionally. Who even let you near the stove? Who hurt you? Was it… the bacon?

🎨 Top 10 Ways You Accidentally Turned Rafayel Into a Purring, Love-Drunk Work of Art

You massage his head He’s mid-rant. Arms crossed. Absolutely furious about the lighting in that gallery. And then your fingers slip into his hair—and just like that, the war is over. His entire body melts like he’s been tranquilized. He’ll deny it later, of course. But the way he leans into your hand? Case closed.

You claim him in public It’s an art gala. He’s dressed to ruin people. And then you slip your arm through his, fingers just tight enough to say mine. You smile like a goddess. He pretends he’s unaffected. Inside, he’s writing vows in ten languages and considering printing matching business cards.

You actually listen to his advice He knows he can be dramatic. Unfiltered. Emotionally volatile. But when you sit there, really listening, nodding like his words matter—you destroy him. Suddenly he’s not the chaos. He’s the compass. And that? That’s love.

You share every detail of your day over dinner You talk about everything—the lady at the store, the funny email, the awful latte. You give him your day like a story, like he’s the only one you wanted to tell. He leans in, listens too closely, files away each emotion like a collector of rare art.

You’re always down for his wildest ideas It’s 3 a.m. He wants to hike 2.5 miles along the beach, take a boat to a tiny island, and watch the sunrise with wine. You say “give me five minutes.” And just like that, you become the only person worthy of his wildest, most beautiful chaos.

You let him photograph you Nothing compares. Not awards. Not praise. Nothing rivals the moment you look into his lens—bare, unfiltered, unashamed. Especially when you’re nude, glowing, and laughing like the world doesn’t exist. That’s when he falls in love with you all over again. And again. And again.

You let him choose your dress You come out in the one he picked. Elegant. Perfect. You spin for him. And the way he watches you? Like he made you. Like you’re the gallery and he’s the only one with the key. It’s not fashion. It’s trust. And he adores you for it.

You sing when you don’t know he’s home Wearing socks and earbuds, dancing with a broom, serenading your way through burnt pancakes. You’re off-key. Glorious. Real. And he stands in the doorway, silent, just watching. Because in that moment—you’re not posing. And he’s never loved you more.

You take care of him when he’s sick He has a fever of 99°F and insists he’s fading. You bring tea, stroke his hair, whisper that he’s “very brave.” You don’t mock him. You take his dramatics seriously. He will never forget it. He may also write you into his will.

You join him in the bathtub without asking He’s already halfway submerged, music playing, steam curling in the air—and then you slip in behind him, no warning. You nudge your legs around his hips, hand him your shampoo, and let him wash your hair while you giggle. He tries to act unimpressed. But when he starts kissing your toes? Yeah. You win.

✨ Top 10 Behavioral Anomalies That Triggered Xavier’s Internal Alert System

You break an agreement—even if it's “just a small one” It’s not about control. It’s about structure. You promised. And when you bend the rules—just slightly—he doesn’t react outwardly. No visible shift, no sharp breath. But something behind his eyes goes cold. Because for him, even small deviations mean recalculating everything. And that means risk. To you.

You create drama “just to get a reaction” You push. You poke. You escalate. And he gives you… nothing. No outburst, no flinch. Just that flat, unreadable stare while he mentally exits the room. He doesn’t get angry—he just shuts off the part of himself that wants to stay.

You refuse his protection—on principle You call it independence. He calls it a strategic vulnerability wrapped in pride. He won’t argue. He’ll just be one step farther back the next time, quietly cataloging how to stop caring just enough that it won’t kill him if something happens.

You call him cold—especially when he’s holding himself together for you You see stillness. He feels restraint. You accuse. He remembers what it takes to not become the darker version of himself. If only you knew how much energy it took to stay composed. If only you knew it was for you.

You’re late Five minutes. Ten. No message. No explanation. And his pulse ticks upward—not with impatience, but with pure, trained alertness. He starts looking for signs. Traffic reports. Emergency alerts. By the time you arrive, he’s smiling. But it’s the tight kind. The kind that says never again.

You skip training You’re tired. You had a long day. You say you’ll make it up later. He doesn’t argue. He just recalculates survival probabilities and mentally adds you to the list of people who might die because they were unprepared. And he will blame himself for letting you get soft.

You pull away from his touch when you're angry It’s not the rejection. It’s the meaning behind it. He reaches out—small, careful, calculated—and you shut the door in his face with a single backward step. He doesn’t try again. He doesn’t ask why. But the space you leave behind? It echoes.

You use a photo of Lumiere as a bookmark You think it’s cute. Maybe even sweet. He sees it—and freezes. He’s not jealous. Not exactly. But the idea that you might admire that version more—the legend, the mask, the sharpness—it unsettles something deep. Something he can’t name.

You secretly believe you’re not good enough for him You never say it out loud. But he sees it—in your deflections, your nervous jokes, the way you doubt his love like it’s a glitch. It doesn’t anger him in the usual sense. It just…hurts. Because you’re the only one who never had to earn it.

You throw yourself in front of him during a mission It’s instinct, you say. Split-second decision. You didn’t even think. And that’s the problem. He does. Always. Every variable, every movement, every risk is accounted for—except you breaking formation to protect him. You think it’s brave. He sees it as catastrophic miscalculation. Not because you acted without logic. But because you decided his life was worth more than yours. And that? That’s the one conclusion he refuses to accept.

✨Top 10 Things That Quietly Break Xavier’s Walls and Leave Him Unreasonably Soft About You

When you start reading the same book he’s readingYou don’t announce it. You just show up with the same title, a few chapters behind, and start casually asking questions. He plays it off. But inside? He’s spiraling. Because this—this—is how you speak his language. Silently. Precisely. Together.

When you knock on his door like you’re trying to break it downIt’s loud. Impatient. Inappropriate for the hour. But he knows that knock. That rhythm. That you. You need him. Not his solutions. Him. And somehow, that chaos pounding on his door feels more like home than anything else.

When you hug him from behindYou wrap your arms around his torso mid-task, face pressed between his shoulder blades, palms splayed across his chest like you’re anchoring yourself to something ancient and steady. He stills. Every time. Like someone just whispered a secret to his bones. He never asks why. Never moves away. He just tilts his head slightly—listening, as if your silence said everything he needed to hear.

When you touch his sword (the actual weapon, calm down)He never lets anyone handle it. Not even for cleaning. But your fingers skim the hilt, gentle, curious, reverent. And somehow… it’s okay. You’re not just touching steel. You’re touching him. And he lets you.

When you act like a little girlYou scrunch your nose. Say something ridiculous. Blush like you didn’t mean to. And he watches—utterly disarmed. Because he knows exactly what you want. You want him to carry you. Wrap you up. Keep you safe. And he will—without hesitation.

When you join him on a morning runYou complain. You lag. You swear this is “not your vibe.” But you still show up. Same hour. Same route. And when you match his pace for those few precious minutes? He doesn’t say it—but he’s proud. Painfully proud.

When you share your dreams—and say “we”You’re rambling. Light spilling from your words. Talking about the future, the maybes, the next steps. But you don’t say I. You say we. And that sound? That tiny shift in grammar? It settles deep. Irrevocable. Permanent.

When you make matching braceletsYou say it’s silly. Handmade. Slightly uneven. There’s a charm shaped like a rabbit. He never takes it off. Not in combat. Not in sleep. It rests against his wrist like a pressure point—and grounds him better than anything else.

When you remember his habitsYour shopping list always includes his cinnamon. His brand of shampoo. The exact instant noodles he pretends not to love. You don’t make a show of it. You just know. And that knowing? It destroys him in the softest possible way.

When you trust him completely in bed—even when his darker side surfacesThere’s a moment—quiet, charged—when the softness shifts. He waits. Watches. Braces for resistance. But you don’t pull back. You open your hands. Arch into him. Let him take control without fear. That? That’s what breaks him. Not the pleasure. The trust.

🖤Top 10 Things That Push Sylus Into Maximum Sarcasm and Mildly Homicidal Disapproval

Your outdated, unreliable weapon Yes, he gets it. It’s vintage. It’s “standard issue.” It’s approved by the Hunters Association. Congratulations. That won’t matter when it jams and gets you killed. Every time you return one of the sleek, upgraded firearms he hand-delivers like he’s your personal armory concierge, he has to resist asking if you've already made a draft of your death wish. Alphabetically sorted. With floral headers.

You chew gum—and pop it It’s not the gum. It’s the snap. The sudden, violent pop of sugary air bubbles that hits his trauma response like a trigger. He knows it’s just a noise. His shoulder still twitches. He’s this close to reaching into your mouth and extracting the gum like a gentleman. A very sarcastic, deeply annoyed, half-feral gentleman.

You try to shake your tail (him) You use stealth tech. You block your signal. You go dark. Adorable. You’re forgetting that the very system you’re relying on was developed by his own syndicate. The only person who ever really evades Sylus is Sylus. And maybe the cat that lives under his car. But not you. Never you.

You don’t introduce him as your boyfriend to your old classmates You panicked. He gets that. You called him “a friend.” And now he’s deeply committed to the bit. For the next seven days, every time you said anything, he replied with “Of course, as your friend…” in front of waiters, dealers, and one extremely confused ambassador. You only managed to shut it down by hastily posting a photo of you two with the caption “my boyfriend and the love of my life.” Acceptable recovery. Barely.

You refuse to use his resources His private jet? Untouched. His cars? Collecting dust. His black card? Sitting unused like some kind of insult in your purse. You say you’re “independent.” He says you’re actively offending his entire lifestyle philosophy. Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to ignore an entire walk-in wardrobe prepared for you in his estate? Honestly, it’s almost admirable. Almost.

You once smoked a cigarette, and he saw it He didn’t say anything. At the time. Just looked at you. Silently. Like someone had drop-kicked a kitten in front of him. He’s not judging. He’s just picturing your lungs in an ashtray. And adding another page to your death wish list.

You speak in riddles and expect him to “get it” You want something—time away, a trip, his attention—but instead of asking, you sigh dramatically and murmur, “It’s fine. I guess some people just don’t want to escape the city with their girlfriends…” He blinks. Slow. Dangerous. “Was that a request, a riddle, or an emotional booby trap?” If you want something from him, Kitten, try using nouns and verbs. Not cryptic guilt puzzles.

You suggest another woman would be “perfect for him” It’s a joke. Offhand. Barely a breath. But your voice wavers—just slightly—and that ruins it. He doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want options. He wants you. And now, thanks to your charming lapse in self-worth, he has to waste the rest of the evening reminding you that this face, this power, this entire empire already belongs to someone. Guess who.

You sneak up on him You never mean to. But somehow, you're always the one person who slips past every alarm, every trained instinct, and ends up whispering behind him when his brain is still in kill mode. It takes everything in him to not react on pure reflex. You think it’s cute. He thinks it’s potentially catastrophic.

You don’t believe him when he says he’s fine Yes, he’s bleeding. Yes, his shirt is soaked. But he said “it’s a scratch,” and when he says that—he means it. His body heals like a myth. Your worried face? It makes something in him ache. Because the real wound isn’t on him—it’s in you, for thinking he’s anything less than unbreakable.

🖤 Top 10 Things That Make Sylus Dangerously Soft for You (And Yes, He’s Keeping Score)

When you finally spend his money It started with coffee. Small. Harmless. But the alert hit his phone and, for a moment, he genuinely wondered if his card had been stolen—until he saw your name. And something in him shifted. Not because of the cost. Please. He could buy the city it was brewed in. No, it was the fact you used it. You. Willingly. Now? You’re bolder—little dresses, shoes, jewelry you don’t need. And every time you do, he rewards it like you just proved you understand the assignment: what's his, is already yours.

When you give orders to his men like you're the boss You don’t ask. You instruct. Calm, certain, completely in charge. One of his men hesitates—just once—while you’re directing them to rescue a terrified kitten stuck in a tree. Sylus doesn’t interfere. He just watches, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth as armed professionals scramble to obey you like you're the patron saint of lost animals. Somewhere in his mind, he’s already fitted you for a crown. With tiny cat ears.

When you secretly pet Mephisto The mechanical raven used to drive you insane. Now? You’re sneaking him treats and absentminded scratches under the jaw. Sylus sees it. Says nothing. But deep down, he knows: if you’ve accepted the bird—you’ve accepted all of him. And that’s lethal. To him.

When you make him a playlist You never explain them. Just send a link and say nothing. But he listens—every time. Alone. In his car. In the bath. Eyes closed, calculating your every choice like it’s encrypted intel. Each track? A hint. A mood. A coded message from you to him. He doesn’t ask for them. He just waits for the next one. And when it arrives, he treats it like gospel.

When you leave a trail of chaos in his car Your hair on the seat. Your gum wrappers in the cup holder. The seat so close to the wheel he practically has to fold in half. And the music? A full-volume love ballad ready to ambush his eardrums at ignition. It's obnoxious. It’s inconvenient. It’s perfect. His life, now featuring you.

When you eat from his plate You swore you weren’t hungry. You said “no carbs this week.” And now? You’re stealing fries from his hand and dipping into his steak sauce like it’s your birthright. He doesn’t stop you. He just watches you chew with that look that says: mine. forever.

When you talk and talk and talk Something happens. You spiral. Words spill. Thoughts tangle. You’re not even aware you’re rambling—but he is. He listens to everything. Stores it all. Because there’s something magical about your voice when it’s unfiltered. You don’t realize it, but he falls a little harder every time you forget to censor yourself.

When you crawl into his lap while he’s working He’s in the middle of paperwork. Calculating things. Dangerous things. And suddenly—you. Right there. Knees on either side, arms around his neck, like the world’s most beautiful interruption. He tells himself he needs to finish. But his hands are already on your hips.

When you call and ask for help A jar. A stuck zipper. A ride. It doesn’t matter. You’re a trained hunter—you’ve faced things with claws, fangs, and no name. But you still call him. Because you want him. And that? That wrecks him in ways he’ll never admit. He’s already on his way before you hang up.

When you scream his name right before you come There’s a lot he’s proud of. His empire. His power. His record. But nothing—nothing—satisfies him more than the moment your voice breaks open with his name. Like prayer. Like surrender. Like he’s the only thing in your world. Which, of course… he is.

[ub-sessed]

How Not to Break Your Sewing Machine

I work in a shop where we repair sewing machines (a LOT of sewing machines), and unsurprisingly we see a lot of the same problems over and over again, so I'm here with some advice on how to keep your machine running longer.

When you break a needle, dig around until you have found the broken piece. If you leave it in there, it can end up in the wrong place at the wrong time and break something vital.

SLOW DOWN. The function of your sewing machine depends on the different moving parts ending up in the right place at the right time. Having to go through a lot of/heavy material slows the needle down, but it doesn't slow down the mechanism underneath the needle plate. If you try to go your usual speed, the needle will arrive too late and collide with something it shouldn't, breaking either the needle or the bobbin case. If the material is especially heavy (say you're sewing several layers of denim, or sewing webbing onto canvas), take your foot off the pedal and turn the machine by hand.

Clean out the bobbin area after each project. Really. Your machine comes with a little brush for this purpose. If it doesn't, a little dollar-store paint brush will work just fine. Remember what I said above about things being in the right place at the right time? Everything needs to be able to move freely for this to work. I know it looks like it's just a little dust and fluff, but it will jam up your machine eventually.

If you can, get your timing adjusted by a professional. I know most people don't have a sewing machine repair shop in their neighbourhood, but if you can do this, it's worth it. If the machine's timing is good, then you're more likely to have a little leeway for heavier fabric or a lintier bobbin case. When the timing is just a bit off, it takes less of an obstacle to put the needle in a place it shouldn't be.

If you can, buy a machine built before 1980. If it's still working 50 years after it was made, it's gonna keep working. Those older machines are made with metal gears and therefore weigh a ton, so they're definitely not a good choice if you don't have a permanent setup for your machine, but it means they basically last forever. Newer machines are made with plastic parts, and no matter what you do, they will break.

Don't buy a Singer Heavy Duty. I'm sure those machines have their benefits, but they are absolutely not heavy duty. We repair more Singer Heavy Dutys than any other single model of sewing machine. If you're already stuck with a Heavy Duty, then follow my advice above even more scrupulously, and start shopping around for a replacement if you can. You can get a used sewing machine of better quality for significantly less than a new Heavy Duty.

To keep things working properly, make sure you're:

threading your machine properly

using the right kind of bobbin

adjusting your tension properly

and using the right kind of needle for the fabric you're sewing!

(These things are unlikely to break your machine, but they will keep it from sewing properly.)

Other than that, get your hands on your machine's manual and read it carefully. If you can, bring your machine in for a cleaning and adjustment now and then. Your machine will need repairs every once in a while: it's a lot of little moving parts! But these are some basic precautions you can take to avoid some common problems.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[hoshigray]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example. 

Yes, you have a boyfriend. 

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material. 

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. ��This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more. 

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true. 

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears. 

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?” 

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases. 

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?” 

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle. 

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm. 

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some— 

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace. 

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs. 

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?” 

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right? 

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries. 

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire. 

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots.  So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!” 

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.” 

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…” 

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.  

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves. 

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours. 

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties! 

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun. 

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice. 

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?” 

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.” 

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction. 

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking. 

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider. 

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.” 

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room. 

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in. 

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.” 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by alp (ringoya) + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[gyudons]

despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”