#how much trouble they could get in without me

[silkensago]

a package deal

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ dick grayson x fem reader. fluff. — 2.7k words ⭑ haley’s the sweetest dog you’ve ever met. her dad’s… pretty cute too, you guess. not that you’re thinking about him. a lot. or at all. he only hired you to dog-sit. but he keeps asking for you back, even on nights he stays home. and when nightwing starts showing up, you don’t realize you’ve been falling for the same man twice.

You sit cross-legged on the hardwood floor, sunlight streaming through the loft windows, brushing down the back of Haley’s fur in long, gentle strokes. She makes a soft huffing noise of contentment and flops onto her side, tail swishing.

“Perfection,” you murmur to her, scratching behind one of her soft ears. “That’s what you are.”

“I know,” comes a smug voice from behind you. “She takes after me.”

You glance over your shoulder. Dick Grayson is leaning against the doorway with a mug in hand and that ever-present glint in his eye. He’s in a loose henley and joggers, his dark hair still slightly damp from a shower. Completely unfair.

“You’re too cute for your own good,” you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow, looking almost proud.

“Thank you. I’m blushing.”

“I could not have been more clearly talking to the dog.”

He walks past you to set his mug on the coffee table, reaching down to ruffle Haley’s head. “We’re a package deal.”

You bite back a smile. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am. Shutting up now.” He bends down and kisses your cheek like it’s nothing. It doesn’t make your heart stutter slightly in your chest. Totally. Not. Because you’re super professional and it doesn’t matter how handsome or nice to you Dick is, it’s just… routine. Absolutely nothing more. Just business as usual.

Haley stretches out with a yawn and rolls onto her back, begging for belly rubs. 

“Haley,” You whisper conspiratorially. “I think your dad needs to get his hearing checked.”

She lets out a soft sneeze that feels a little too much like agreement.

Later, Dick finds you in the kitchen, struggling to twist open a stubborn jar of pasta sauce.

“Need some help?” he asks, appearing behind you. You jump and nearly drop the jar. This man was sneakier than a shadow sometimes.

You glance over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes. “Why should I listen to you? Last time you tried to help, you almost broke the blender making smoothies for Haley. I still don’t think she’s forgiven you.”

He shrugs, grinning. “I’m her dad. Of course she does.”

You roll your eyes and hold the jar tighter. “Do I have to let you do it?”

He leans in, flashing his dimples at you. Ugh. Of course he has dimples. “Yes. Because I’m ridiculously handsome and impossible to resist.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were staring.”

“I was squinting. Glaring-adjacent.”

“Still counts.”

He leans in just a little, and you catch the faint scent of his cologne—clean and warm, with a subtle hint of vanilla and citrus. You hate how much you like it.

Without a word, you hold out the jar.

Dick takes it and opens it in one smooth twist, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Show-off.

—

The night you stay over, you’re tucked into his ridiculously soft guest bed, wearing a tank top and cute, tiny pair of cotton shorts. Haley hops up beside you, pacing once or twice before settling at your feet like a miniature guard dog with fierce loyalty.

You hear a soft knock at the door.

“You decent?” Dick’s voice filters through, lazy and amused.

You crack the door open just enough to peek out. “Define decent.”

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, a fond smile playing on his lips as he looks you over. Your insides squirm from the attention.

You scoff and reach down to scratch under Haley’s chin. “Your dad is—”

“Trouble?” Dick finishes for you with a raised brow.

You nod solemnly. “That.”

He chuckles quietly, eyes flickering to the tank top you’re wearing—his logo clear and unmistakable. Cute. 

“Nightwing fan, huh?” he asks, amused.

You shrug. “Who isn’t?”

For a moment, his usual confident posture falters—his gaze drops briefly, and there’s a faint flush coloring his cheeks before he clears his throat and looks back at you.

He chuckles quietly, breaking the moment. “I asked you to stay tonight because Haley gets anxious when I’m working late or on those random emergency calls. I know she’ll be okay with you here,” he says, voice softening. “And honestly? I don’t mind the company either.”

He’s never mentioned work in front of you before, and you’ve always wondered what his job was. Maybe a firefighter? Modeling? You’ve definitely seen him on a few magazine covers, and you’ve only known him a few months, but somehow, you’re convinced no normal job could fully contain his personality. You glance up at him, surprised by the honesty.

“Besides,” he adds with a crooked grin, “someone’s got to keep me from binge-watching bad crime dramas all alone.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “So I’m just your dog-sitter slash bad TV watchdog?”

He shrugs, stepping back with that familiar cocky grin. “Yup. Lucky you.”

“Don’t be silly,” you say, nudging the door open a little wider. “I’ll watch them with you.”

He blinks, just once, like he hadn’t expected you to say yes so easily. But then that grin of his deepens—real, quiet, warm. You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. 

Haley’s already curled up and snoring like she owns the place, and you realize that maybe this night, awkward or not, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

—

A few days later, you’re walking Haley around the block just after sunset, the sky still streaked in fading purples and deep blues. The air is warm, the quiet hum of cicadas buzzing in the background as you tug your hoodie tighter around yourself. It was supposed to be a short stroll, just some light post-dinner exercise. Haley’s trotting happily beside you, leash slack in your hand, until–

A hand clamps over your mouth.

Your heart spikes as arms hook around your waist and haul you backward. You try to scream, but it’s muffled against a gloved palm. Haley barks as you drop her leash, sharp and feral, No, no, let her go!, her nails scrabbling against the pavement as she tries biting at legs that you can’t see, but you’re already being dragged toward a dark van parked just out of view beneath a flickering streetlamp. 

You hear her soft whines fade as you’re dragged away, and you clench your jaw angrily.

They picked the wrong dog sitter.

You’re shoved into a dark van under a streetlamp that flickers weakly, like even it knows something shady’s going down.

The guy in the passenger seat pulls out a phone and dials, practically giddy. “Yeah, we got her. The girl. Pretty one with the dog. Yeah. Nightwing’s girl.”

You blink, disoriented. “Wait—what?”

He covers the phone, peering down at you. “Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing,” you say, still trying to orient yourself. “Is this about the one time I accidentally shoplifted, like, twenty packs of mozzarella string cheese from Trader Joe’s because I forgot they were at the bottom of my cart?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“What?” says one guy. The other just stares at you like you’ve grown an extra head. 

“I went back the next day and paid for them, by the way,” you add, because, even under the threat of possible death, your moral compass refuses to shut up.

“No,” the first guy says slowly, like you’re the idiot here. He lifts the phone to his mouth again and mutters under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear:

“Yeah… Nightwing’s girl is kinda stupid. Real cute, though.”

You blink. “Wow. Rude. And for the last time—I’m not Nightwing’s girlfriend!” you shout, equal parts annoyed and terrified, somehow still managing sarcasm from inside a van that looks like it moonlights as a mobile organ-harvesting operation.

“Wait, you’re not?” one of your kidnappers asks in confusion.

“She’s not?” echoes another, the disbelief so stupid it almost makes you laugh.

“Never mind, you can shoot me now,” you mutter.

Except you don’t give them the chance.

You drop your weight low, twist your hips the way you learned years ago in that self-defense class, and drive your foot between the leader’s legs with more precision than a brain surgeon. He drops like a stone.

The van door bursts open in the same breath, a crack of air and motion colliding as a streak of blue and black descends from above.

Nightwing lands in a crouch and as he stands up his hand flies to his mouth, the white eyes of his mask widening to a comical degree while surveying the scene of three grown men groaning and curled on the floor around him.

His gaze lands on the one gasping for air with his hands between his legs, and then on you—panting, but standing tall.

“Ouch,” he mutters under his breath, blinking once. “Even I felt that.”

Afterward, you sit dazed on the curb, wrapped in a blanket courtesy of some poor local EMT. Nightwing crouches beside you.

“You did good,” he says, voice lower than you expect. Kind of familiar even, but there’s no way. That’d be weird. Your head is just jumbled up from being kidnapped earlier. “Quick reflexes. Nice kick.”

He pauses, voice softening. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Your eyes widen as panic suddenly strikes you. “Wait—Haley. Where’s Haley? Sweet little pitbull, big blue eyes, softest ears—please tell me she’s okay.”

Nightwing’s lips twitch into something between a smile and a smirk. “I checked. She ran all the way to the nearest police station. Smart girl. She held her own.”

Relief rushes through your chest so fast it makes you a little dizzy. “God. I can’t believe I left her—”

“You didn’t plan on getting kidnapped,” he says simply, his tone steady and reassuring. “She’s safe. You’re safe. That’s what counts.”

Then, as if on cue, Haley barrels into view, leash trailing behind her, tail wagging wildly as she launches herself into your lap.

“Haley!” you gasp, practically crushed under the weight of her excitement as she covers your face in frantic, sloppy kisses. You laugh, blinking through tears. “Okay, okay, I missed you too—”

“She’s the reason I found you so fast, by the way.” Nightwing adds, standing beside the two of you now. “Not that you needed me.” He grins sheepishly, scratching his cheek.

Haley lets out a happy little huff, tongue lolling out as she turns to Nightwing expectantly. He crouches down and pats her head, and she melts into his hand like she’s known him forever.

You squint at the sight. A weird wave of deja vu washes over you. Like you’ve seen this scene before. But no, that couldn’t be. This is the first time either of you have ever met Nightwing. Then again, Dick did say she loves everyone. Even strangers.

Still. The way she looks at him—tail wagging with a pat-pat-pat against the ground, body relaxed, happy—it scratches at something in the back of your brain.

But you’re too tired to chase it. For now.

He offers you a lollipop, holding it out with a small, boyish smile.

You blink at him. “Do you always carry candy in your utility belt?”

“Usually for kids,” he says, voice softer than usual. “You earned it.”

You hesitate, but take it from him. Your fingers brush his glove—warm, steady—and it lingers just a second longer than necessary.

“You calling me a baby?” you ask, popping the lollipop into your mouth. Yum, strawberry. 

His gaze doesn’t waver. “If the shoe fits,” he murmurs, voice rich with something unreadable.

Your pulse stutters and you smirk, trying to shake it off. Haley wags her tail faster, sat between the two of you. “That supposed to be flirting, or are you just bad at compliments?”

His lips twitch as he raises a hand to scratch Haley behind her ears. “Why can’t it be both?”

—

You’re in your kitchen, the warm smell of chocolate chip cookies filling the air as you carefully pull a tray from the oven. Tonight, you’re bringing them over to Dick’s place. It’s a small peace offering—or maybe just an excuse to see him.

Before you can wipe your hands on a towel, a familiar voice comes from the doorway.

“Ah, love that smell,” Nightwing says, leaning casually against the frame like he’s done it a hundred times. 

You freeze, eyes wide. “Dude. Did you just break into my house.”

He shrugs sheepishly, an infuriatingly charming smile playing on his lips that was unfortunately working on you. “Can’t a guy visit his baby?”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

You flash back to that night — the rush of adrenaline as he dropped from the shadows, the men who grabbed you, Haley’s sloppy kisses on your face, the sweet taste of strawberry candy, his voice low and steady as he told you you were safe now.

He winks. “I remember how much you liked my lollipops.”

You blink as your cheeks warm. The sheer audacity. “Okay, first of all, gross. Never say that again. Second—what?”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he says, wandering over like this is normal behavior and not highly illegal. Guess rules don’t apply to superheroes when they're too busy fighting people who break them. His gloved hand reaches toward the tray of still-steaming cookies.

“Do not touch those, they’re—”

“Hot, hot—!” he yelps, shaking his hand after you, predictably, let him grab one. He blows on the cookie dramatically, then takes a bite. “Mmm. Five stars.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to smother a smile. From the way his eyes twinkle and the not-so-guilty grin on his face, you can tell this isn’t his first time pulling this exact stunt. You shake your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He beams at you, still chewing. “If you give a mouse a cookie…”

You sigh, jug in hand already pouring. “...he’s gonna ask for a glass of milk.”

Nightwing accepts it with a chuckle and a soft thank you, the sound warm and achingly familiar.

Something akin to home.

—

It happens slowly, like the puzzle’s been coming together in the background without you even realizing.

The lollipop.

The voice.

The subtle bruises he brushes off.

The way Nightwing always shows up when you’re in trouble.

The way he takes off during weird hours of the day, calling you if you could watch Haley for him while he’s gone. 

You lie awake that night, staring at the ceiling.

You hear movement from the living room.

Quiet footsteps. A rustle of fabric. The soft click of a window closing.

You sit up.

Your heart pounds.

You step out and see him standing by the window, pulling a hoodie on over—

Blue.

Black.

Gloves.

His hair is mussed. His cheek has a shallow scrape. He freezes when he sees you.

“…Oh,” Dick says.

You blink.

“No,” you whisper, realization blooming like a sun flare behind your ribs. “You’re Nightwing?”

He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “In my defense… I never said I wasn’t.”

Your jaw drops.

“You absolute—!”

“Before you yell,” he says, hands raised in surrender, “I’d like to remind you I just saved your life. Again.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

You stalk toward him and jab a finger into his chest. “You flirted with me as Nightwing.”

“Technically, I flirted with you as me. You just didn’t know it was both. Also,” He grins, “Doesn’t my ass look great in spandex?”

You groan. Then collapse against his chest.

You can’t even fight back at that.

“…I’m going to kill you,” you mumble into his hoodie. He smells so good. Too good. Damn him.

“Please wait until after I take you to dinner.”

You shove at him. He laughs.

Later, curled up on the couch in his arms, Haley snuggled happily between you, you stroke her velvet-soft ears. The movie's long forgotten, the room washed in the warm, quiet hush of almost-sleep.

“Has there ever been a time when you didn’t expose me to danger?” you murmur.

Dick hums thoughtfully. “About... eighty-seven?”

You elbow him. “I’m thinking of a number between one hundred and infinity.”

“You wound me mortally,” he says with a grin, voice lazy against your hair.

Then he adds, “What about that time I tried to make pancakes and accidentally set your smoke alarm off three times in one morning?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. “That counts.”

He chuckles, smug and unrepentant.

You smile drowsily and nuzzle into his shoulder again, Haley’s soft snores grounding the moment.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to your temple. “We’re a package deal.”

You glance down at Haley, who kicks in her sleep, then sighs with the contentment of someone deeply loved.

You snuggle closer. “Works for me.”

[destinysbounty]

One thing I find unexpectedly fascinating about Monstrosity is that when you think about it, it'd really only work with Kai as the protagonist. And I don't just mean that because Rusty could only be awakened by a fire elemental, and without Rusty Kai would've died at the spooky death-siren lake - although that's definitely a part of the equation. What I mean is that Kai's specific personality was vital to not only his survival, but also to the retention of his humanity, and that likely wouldn't have been possible if almost any other character was swapped into his position.

Let me elaborate.

Although it's certainly true that not all timeskip scenarios were created equal, and that the Merge treated some people better than others (cough cough Cole), it's also worth noting that each character's experiences are heavily defined by their own unique personalities, strengths, and flaws. If you shuffled everyone around into different post-Merge outcomes, you'd have a vastly different story.

For example, Cole absolutely flourished in the Land of Lost Things, but not everyone would - Pixal in particular would really struggle there. She's normally someone who is always on her A-game so long as she has a goal to accomplish and a clear path towards doing so, and it's rare for her to face a lot of internal conflict over her motivations/ideals. But if you put her in a situation where she has to choose between leaving the Finders to reunite with her friends, or forsaking her friends to protect the Finders...I think that no matter which option she chose, she'd be deeply troubled by it, and would not cope with that conflict of interest nearly as well as Cole has.

Whereas Lloyd, if you placed him in the stasis pod instead of Pixal, would suffer just as greatly. As much as he struggled emotionally in his years of isolation in the monastery, I think it'd almost fuck him up even more to find out he slept through the Merge entirely - and has (in his eyes) failed to keep his team safe and intact. That they've had to fend for themselves without him around to do his job as the leader.

And so on and so forth. You get the general idea. (Honestly, it's kind of a fun thought exercise to explore how everyone would cope if they all got switched around into different scenarios. You should definitely try it!)

Of course, Monstrosity in particular is a fascinating case study of this. If you put any other ninja in this story, you'd get a drastically different one - and in a lot of fundamental ways, it just straight-up wouldn't work.

See, the core theme of the miniseries is about balancing ruthlessness and mercy, knowing when to fight and when to show compassion, and how to fight monsters without becoming a monster yourself. And honestly? Kai is arguably the only person on the team who could effectively navigate that balancing act.

On the one hand you have characters like Pixal, Nya, and Jay - characters who would most likely fall too far onto the ruthlessness side of things and lose themselves.

Pixal is a very determined person - as mentioned above, so long as she has a goal and an action plan, she isn't prone to giving up or losing hope. She will keep trudging along her chosen path until it is accomplished, never stopping to let anything slow her down. Sure, she'd definitely be haunted by her choices after the fact, but in the moment I don't think she'd ever let herself slow down long enough to introspect in that way. She's too busy getting back to her family to think deeply about the moral implications of her actions, or to reflect on who/what she's becoming. She'd definitely be haunted by her choices, sure, but that's not to imply she would ever meaningfully deconstruct or process those feelings at all. She is, of course, an alumni at the Zane Julien School of Processing Trauma.

Nya is similar to Pixal in a lot of ways, but she's also naturally a very ruthless person with a teensy bit of bloodlust to her (affectionate). She also has at least one canon instance of sacrificing her humanity to save her family. This isn't new to her. Daidan would tell her that she can't survive in a land of monsters without becoming a monster herself and she'd go "bet", then proceed to beat the shit out of anything that looks at her wrong. Not to mention that the weird death-siren lake would probably fuck her up in a lot of really complicated Seabound-related ways that I don't think she'll ever be ready or willing to unpack.

My placement of Jay on this side of the spectrum may face some scrutiny, but hear me out first. Although Jay acts very lighthearted and goofy in front of others, it's canon that this persona is a facade he wears to save face and hide how anxious he really feels. On some level, I would argue that Jay subconsciously self-sabotages whenever he's fighting in a group, deferring to the strength of others out of insecurity/codependency rather than trusting his own skill. But when he's on his own and has no audience left to perform for, we see Jay's full potential shine through - we see him be strong, and clever, and even a leader. And on rare occasions, usually when Nya or someone he loves is in danger, he can even be brutal. Jay would absolutely have an awful time in Monstrosity, don't get me wrong - but he'd also exhibit a level of competence and efficiency only ever seen during elimination seasons. And that same efficiency would be his downfall. Jay loves his family, he loves Nya, and he also really hates dying. I don't have a doubt in my mind that he would do whatever it takes to make it back to Nya, even if he's miserable the whole time.

Of course, that's not to say that the rest of the team has it any better. Just because Cole, Zane, and Lloyd tilt pretty far onto the "mercy" side of the spectrum, doesn't mean that's necessarily a good thing in this situation.

Cole is extremely community-oriented, and he is constantly making friends and forming meaningful connections everywhere he goes. With Chen's other prisoners, with Yang, with that not-so-random baby he found, with Krag, with the Upply, and now with the Finders. If Cole cannot find a community, he will create it. On the rare occasions that he is alone, it is usually a dire situation involving extremely poor mental health. When his isolation is self-inflicted, it's usually out of grief. And when circumstances forcibly isolate him....well, go rewatch DotD and MotO, and watch how Cole handles just a few hours of forced isolation from his family. I can't imagine he'd handle several weeks alone in the Land of Monsters without becoming completely unglued. Cole's biggest strength is his social sturdiness - not just as the rock his team relies on, but as the foundation upon which everyone he meets can cultivate a sense of community. But in isolation that strength becomes a double-edged sword, and I believe the brutal emptiness of the Land of Monsters would leave him in an even worse emotional state than Kai.

Zane is no stranger to being stranded in foreign realms, armed with nothing but the singular objective to return home. But I think he would be so paranoid about falling into old routines that he would overcompensate too far in the other direction, rendering him too soft to make it through the Land of Monsters in one piece. That's not to imply he was going to make it out in one piece to begin with, of course. This is Zane we're talking about. I'd be surprised if he goes three days without dying horribly in some way or another. Whether it's out of self-sacrifice or because he pulled punches where he shouldn't have and paid the price, that man is not lasting more than a week.

Lloyd...honestly, he's arguably the closest anyone gets to matching Kai's balance on this issue. The case could certainly be made that Lloyd would effectively replace Kai in Monstrosity...but idk, I personally don't buy it. If you ask me, I think he veers a bit too much into the "too afraid of being like his dad to let himself become a monster" spectrum. This would go one of two ways: 1) he goes the way of Zane and/or Cole, and over-softens himself out of paranoia; 2) he initially tries to over-soften himself, but everything gets to him until he eventually snaps and goes full Oni Mode. Personally, I've got my money on option 2.

The takeaway here isn't that any member of the team is inherently better or worse than the others, just that they all have particular strengths and weaknesses that serve them well in their given scenarios. But those scenarios would only work with them as the main character, and nowhere is that more apparent than with Monstrosity. Zane could never withstand Lloyd's years of isolation in the monastery, just like Jay would become an anxious mess if he had to be responsible for the Kragglings' civil war, just like Kai would absolutely have the worst time if he got stuck in the Administration, just like Nya would go stir-crazy in the Land of Lost Things.

Monstrosity is fundamentally a Kai storyline, down to its DNA. And I think that's part of why he comes across as so beautifully written in this miniseries. There is no aspect of it that you can separate from Kai without changing the fundamental core of the story itself. He's the only one on the team who could do something like this. The only one who could survive in the Land of Monsters without either dying horribly or losing himself along the way.

And idk, I just think that's neat.

[itoshiierae]

hii can I req

hate sex with mean!sae (only mean in bed) cus he frustrated

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 notes: lowkey this is what happens when you date a man with no emotional communication skills and a dangerously hot face 😮‍💨 (not proofread!)

ᡣ𐭩 cw: minors dni, angst, f!reader, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), light choking, mild degradation, emotional tension

you always knew dating someone like sae wouldn’t be easy. he’s not the warmest, or the most expressive. you tried to be understanding, but sometimes it gets frustrating— especially when all you want is a little reassurance, and all he gives you is cold distance.

so you accidentally blurted something you shouldn’t have:

“you’re always so cold… do you even want me, sae?? do you even care?? maybe i should’ve stayed with my ex if i wanted to be treated this way—”

you don’t even know why you said it. maybe it was to hurt him. maybe it was to make him feel something— anything at all. and for a moment it looks like it worked. his mouth twitches, and his eyes darken.

but then he immediately turns away.

he didn’t even bother to yell. just turned and walked away, like you weren’t even worth the effort of a reaction.

and you know how sae is. he’s never good in the heat of the moment. he always needs space; needs to step back, to breathe and process, before he ends up saying something he can’t take back.

so you tell yourself you’ll apologise later, once he’s calmed down. and once you’ve also figured out why you tried to hurt the one person you never wanted to lose.

──★

when he enters your shared bedroom 3 hours later, you immediately stand up.

“sae, about just now… I’m sor—”

“strip. now.”

“…huh??” you blink, caught off guard by the flatness in his voice.

“you wanted me to show you just how much i care, right?” he says slowly, eyes unreadable. “then do it. strip.”

for a second, you think about pushing back—asking why, maybe even telling him no. but then you see the quiet intensity in his stare like he’s already made up his mind. you swallow hard, breath shaky, as you drop your gaze while quietly peeling your clothes off one piece at a time.

the way he’s looking at you right now is icy and distant; weighted with everything he refuses to say. he stands completely still, fists clenched at his sides, teal eyes fixed on you as you peel off each layer of your clothing. the tension in his posture says more than words ever could. he hasn’t even touched you, and yet your heart feels like it’s splintering under the weight of his indifference.

“go on,” he mutters. “show me just how sorry you are.”

you immediately sink to your knees in front of him— lips brushing along the seam of his pants as your trembling fingers fumble with his belt.

you press a kiss just above his zipper before easing it down, pulling his cock free.

and when you finally wrap your mouth around him— he exhales sharply, teal eyes hooded with lust as they drop to watch every desperate movement of your mouth taking him in.

“look at you…” he murmurs, finally running a hand through your hair.

“crying and i haven’t even properly fucked you yet...”

then he tightens his grip suddenly—fist curling at the base of your skull as he pushes your head down, deeper onto his cock. your throat tightens with the stretch, a wet gag catching in your chest as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“mm—yeah,” he groans, jaw tense. “just like that...”

afterwards, he carries your body and drops you onto the mattress— immediately rips off his shirt without hesitation, then climbs over you with that same cold, unreadable expression.

when he finally pushes his length in, it’s not mercy. it’s a reminder; each thrust measured like he’s making a point you won’t ever forget.

“so… you’re really gonna compare me to your ex??”

he pulls back, just to slam into you harder— mocking you with how calm his voice stays.

“…you knew how i was when we first started dating, you knew i always had trouble opening up,” each thrust feels like a reprimand, like he’s spelling it out for you the only way he knows how.

you reach for his mouth to kiss him, but he immediately turns his head, just to remind you that you haven’t earned that yet.

“no,” he whispers. “you don’t get that yet.”

your body’s trembling, chest too tight, your voice caught somewhere between shame and need, as you try to figure out if you’re angry or just broken open under him.

you try to speak, but the words crumble before they can leave your lips; by now, you’re nothing but a trembling, moaning mess.

then he immediately grabs your chin and forces your gaze to his again.

“aw, you’re shaking… what, your ex never fucked you like this??? yeah, ‘cause he couldn’t.”

his hips snap forward again.

the impact of his thrusts echoes through your ribs—skin slapping against skin, while your breath catches in your throat; your fingers claw at the sheets, desperate to steady yourself as you try to accommodate to his pace.

but he doesn’t pause or soften, he just keeps going like he’s trying to fuck the thought of anyone else out of you.

“s-sae—please… it’s too much, i can’t—” you mumble as your nails dig into his forearm, legs trembling from the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

“ohhh so now it’s too much?? wasn’t too much when you compared me to him,” he sneers dragging his palm down your spine as he pushes into you deeper.

the way he’s moving right now it’s like he’s trying to bury the words you forced out of him. every thrust is brutal, each one bitten off like he’s choking on everything he didn’t say a few hours ago, “go on… tell me again how cold i am.”

“m–sorry, sae, i–i really didn’t mean to….” you gasp, voice splintering as his hips keep slamming into you without pause.

your body quivers under him, already wrecked and overflowing with too much of him and still, he doesn’t stop. his palm slides up your stomach as he wraps around your throat again; almost as if he’s grounding you as he pushes his member in deeper.

“you don’t get to run your mouth and then fall apart the second i give you what you asked for.”

his fingers tighten slightly at your throat. not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who’s really in control. you’re gasping, trembling, already so full it aches… and still, he doesn’t let up.

he leans down suddenly— grabs your jaw, forces your face up, and kisses you.

his lips crash into yours, hot and punishing as his tongue claims your mouth the same way his body does; deep, ruthless, all laced with frustration and feral need.

and when he finally pulls away, you’re left dazed and breathless.

“sooo…” he mutters, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. “do i still feel cold to you now?? don’t ever compare me to your fucking ex again.”

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[prismatoxic]

some persona 5 fans want goro akechi to be a good person so badly that they just make shit up about the game and tell you to your face that their interpretation is correct, usually with some implied resentment towards other fandom meta

listen to me. look me in the eyes. he is a bad person. he was shaped by a traumatic life, manipulated into doing whatever it took for a childish revenge plot, and warped by his own rage and pain. he's selfish, he's cruel, he's not sorry for what he did. do you want to know why that's fine? well good because i wrote a fucking lot about it (maybe goes without saying but spoilers for p5r all the way down)

persona 5 is a game that presents you with good guys and bad guys, cops and robbers. and then it breaks that down. there are no good people and bad people, not in the way you're conditioned to believe. the palace rulers may often be cartoonishly evil, but the depths of mementos tells us that they were also warped by the same society that beats down our protagonists. futaba's palace challenges the idea that only bad people have warped desires, presents the idea that one can be manipulated into something they're not. maruki, in all his attempted benevolence, shows us once and for all that no one should have the ability to change who someone else is "for the greater good". he wants the best for people, and no matter how horrific his actions truly are, in his eyes it's salvation. he is the culmination of themes the game has been pulling along this entire time. is it just to change someone's heart? no. it's not.

(thank god for royal, every time i remember how vanilla went i can't believe i was just willing to accept it ending the way it did.)

so, akechi. he is masks upon masks. he's a trauma victim. he's a murderer. he's selfish. his principles are unshakable. he wanted to be a hero once. he's a villain now. he's so many things, and i keep seeing fans desperately wanting him to be good in the end. this is me saying he doesn't need to be. whether you accept him as dead or believe the true ending does imply he survived, he doesn't need to be a noble person.

i don't think robin hood is fully a lie, no. i think he's a manifestation of akechi's inner child, the part of him that never died no matter how much he wishes it had. the hero he wanted to be when he was just a boy and had no idea how cruel the world could be. the hero who could have saved his mother had he been real. robin hood and prince crow are the ideal, the image akechi not only projects but the one he once wished to be.

loki and black mask crow are the real. the manifestation of chaos and rage akechi has become. this is the part people have trouble accepting, and it frustrates me, because rejecting akechi as he truly is to insist he could never be this broken, angry person feels like it rejects his story. it rejects the idea that someone could be so destroyed and still be worth a place in the narrative. if third sem ever once implied that he was still lying, i'd be willing to entertain the idea, but it doesn't.

shido is behind bars. the media seems to have forgotten the detective prince. akechi is adrift in an unreal world that defies the death he knows he faced, and he hates that, but he's also more free than he's been since he was a child. think about it: he's been a puppet and an attack dog for years. he was shuffled through an unforgiving foster system before that, still reeling from his mother's death. his over-the-top, almost childishly edgy howling and raving in maruki's palace isn't another mask, it's someone who's been repressed for so long finally getting to cut loose. out in the real world he's quieter, more subdued, but the way he meanders through sentences has the same cadence it always did. the slow, deliberate choice of words in the english delivery is identical to how he spoke before, but without the little sparkle of forced enthusiasm. much like how his eyes look less bright, his demeanor has shifted down into something much less vibrant. he seems tired as much as he's annoyed, yet still finds moments here or there to be a snarky asshole. he's never been allowed to be this. he's joker's peer, not his superior nor subordinate. joker has seen him at his absolute lowest, and as humiliating as that is, it means akechi doesn't really have anything left to lose. he's already shared the entirety of his tragic backstory (much to his own chagrin, i'm sure). all that's left is not compartmentalizing himself into an ideal image, being kind of rude and kind of off-putting and maybe a little obsessive.

i think the most telling part of it all is his rank 8. one of the great shuake moments, the duel and the "i hate you" and the glove throw. akechi is angry there. he is still under shido's thumb, and the culmination of his plot against the thieves is close. he will kill joker soon, and while i don't tend to speculate on what his thoughts about that were, i think there's a lot to be said about "promise me a rematch" being said to someone you know you have to kill. maybe he always hoped joker would outwit him, who can say.

dial down the anger of that moment in your mind. imagine him delivering his lines with a sort of exasperated annoyance rather than open contempt. free of the burdens of his obligations, left only with the frustration of somehow still being someone's toy, third sem akechi is the solidified obsidian to rank 8 akechi's rolling magma.

i'm sure he's still a liar. manipulative. deflects emotional vulnerability for sure, we get plenty of that. but he's still real. he's tired, he's frustrated, he's insane, he's rude, he's real. and i love him for that. i think a lot of us do. i think joker does too.

there's a reason why maruki reverts akechi back to his detective prince mask in the bad end. that's the nice one, the good one, the one who won't fight back, who will love joker as he deserves. he's the ideal. the real is the akechi who defies him until the very end, who would rather cease to be than allow maruki even a modicum of control over himself. he's a messy disaster of a boy, shattered into pieces by a needlessly cruel life and kintsugi'd back into being by an endless well of spite and a childish desire for vengeance.

goro akechi is a broken person. the game posits him as a bad person until the walls start to crumble, until the morality of it all is cast into shades of grey. i won't say persona 5 did a flawless job with its story, but i do think it did a pretty goddamn good job, and the contrast between akechi and maruki suggests that good people can do monstrous things, and bad people can do what's right. in the end, they were both broken people. they just split apart in different ways.

i think akechi is an amazing character. i think he feels little to no remorse for his actions, and haru and futaba have every right to never forgive him. i think he's selfish, and most of his actions if not all of them are driven by his own needs. even saving the thieves in the engine room was for his own benefit... staring death in the face, he knew they could take down shido still. that was all that mattered.

i also think he's a hurt child. that he could have been a real hero if he was given the chance. i think he genuinely does wish he'd met joker a few years sooner, and i think it frustrates him that joker makes him feel heard and understood and cared for. starved for affection for so long, joker's commitment makes him feel sick to his stomach rather than sating the gnawing urge for connection that's been within him since he was a little boy who'd just lost his mother.

i think it does more for his character to assume he's angry, manic, selfish, and violent than it does to assume he's secretly someone who wants to do good. don't fall into the trap of assuming he must be One Of The Good Guys because you do desperately want his story to be more sympathetic. it already is sympathetic. he doesn't need to be redeemed to be worth loving.

edit, for whatever it's worth: after many tags and talking with my favorite meta buddy who helped me with a lot of these thoughts to start with (hi max <3) i will concede that akechi feels remorse or, at least, is capable of it. (moreso with wakaba and similar cases than okumura, i don't think he gives a shit about okumura.) the game rarely touches on his emotions in that specific way, but if nothing else, he does understand the gravity of what he did and has no interest in mercy or forgiveness for it, which still says something.

[hiraethwrote]

PUT YOU FIRST

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : you're the only thing beside volleyball tobio has been wholeheartedly devoted to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you, no matter how painful it might be cw : angst, no comfort, exes/breakup, pining, crying, miscommunication, post timeskip, ali roma!tobio, no use of y/n word count : 2.2k

ex!tobio who breaks your heart when he haphazardly agrees, almost without a second thought.

neither of you can recall how the idea found a footing in the first place, but the word ‘breakup’ is brought up, and suddenly it’s a reality.

“if that is what you think is best, then okay.”

ex!tobio who packs up his stuff and leaves as soon as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort by overstaying his welcome.

he’s quiet as a mouse as he carefully moves around the apartment to collect it all, listening to your sobs and cries that never seem to stop.

is this what he wants? absolutely not. you’re his entire world. there is absolutely no limit to the lengths he would go to for you — anything, without question.

even if that is breaking up.

ex!tobio who you now believe to be agreeable to a fault.

it is a fact people are baffled about once you tell them. everyone just believe him to be as ruthless and angry as he is on the court — but you can easily go on for hours about how once you get him on your own, there are no signs of the hard edge to him that everyone else see.

with you he is soft. kind. patient.

and up until now, you have considered it to be one of his many admirable qualities.

however, it is not something you appreciate when it regards the fate of your relationship.

ex!tobio who is, in reality, exactly the person everyone believes him to be.

he has heard it from an early age; “why do you always have to be so mean, kageyama?”, “you really are selfish, kageyama,” “let’s see how far that attitude gets you, kageyama.”

people have refused to see him as anything more than his stubbornness, therefore he sees no reason to make them believe otherwise. they have already made up their mind.

you are the first person to try and give him the benefit of the doubt.

“are you okay, tobio?,” “let me know if there’s something i can do for you, tobio,”, “i believe in you, tobio.”

ex!tobio who might be agreeable to a fault, but it is only with you.

meeting someone who takes the time to see past his outburst is something he knows he wants to cherish — he is not going to scare you away.

no fight, no argument, no disagreement is that important that it is worth the risk of losing you.

so he puts his pride aside — he will always put you first, even if it means he is miserable.

ex!tobio who therefore agrees to a breakup under the belief that he thinks it’s what you want — what’s best for you.

your world shatters as he closes the door behind him.

suddenly you feel like the entire relationship was as a scam, too good to be true.

why was it so easy for him to walk away? how was he able to hear how your broken heart drew unruly sob after sob from your lips as he folded his clothes into his suitcase? why couldn’t he fight for you?

you’re left with the impression of simply being a convenience to him, someone he could use for comfort when he needed it. and once that lost its value, he had no trouble tossing you aside.

and maybe he is exactly that person everyone has told you he was.

ex!tobio who feels a new sense of agitated restlessness take residence in his body once you’re not part of his life anymore.

it’s only when you’re gone that he realises how much you have softened him. his mind had somehow found peace it never knew existed before you came around, and suddenly it’s just gone.

he becomes angry again. short tempered as he snaps at the first inconvenience he faces.

his teammates, who has only ever known him while he was devoted to you, are left stunned at his outburst in the locker room before the season’s first match.

“what the hell has gotten into you, kageyama?”

ex!tobio who hopes your watching, even though he has no right to your attention anymore.

and of course you are. once upon a time you had promised him you would be there for all of his moments — one way or another.

under different circumstances, you would have been in the stands. the loudest person in the crowd as you watch him perform his art — instead a blaring alarm wakes you up a quarter to four in the middle of the night.

grumpily you force yourself out of bed. you curse yourself, even though you know very well this is something you’re doing of your own free will. you have no obligation to him anymore, and it’s not like he will know if you’re watching or not. you could very easily turn off the alarm, pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep, drift back into dreamland where you are still together.

but instead you bring your duvet with you into the dark living room, wrap it around yourself and switch the tv on, the sports channel that’s airing his match already on. with a yawn, you make yourself comfortable, laying down on your side and tucking your hand under your cheek.

the match is about to start, and the camera pans to tobio, showering him with praise as the talented setter he is — it doesn’t take long before you feel a quiet tear roll down your cheek. and as the game goes on, the stream continues steadily and silent.

oh, how you miss him.

ex!tobio who is a different type of nervous during the match, because it feels wrong to not have you in the audience.

on instinct, he keeps shooting glances to where you would have been sitting if you were to attend, hoping to meet your eyes. without fail, you would always look at him with such pride whenever he played.

it gave him an extra little push, having such a desire to impress you — and he looked forward to the little post-match ritual the two of you had developed.

the buzzer would end the match, declaring his victory — and while he thanked the opposing team for the game, you would hurry down from the stands.

in the halls of the stadium, you find him before they reach their wardrobe. the blush quickly blossoms across his cheeks when his teammates start teasing him.

“here she comes, champ,” one of them snickers, shoving his shoulder lightly before they all head on — but he remains.

without another second to waste, you launch at him, limbs latching on around his neck while his arms secure you in his grip, lifting you off the ground. his stance is steady — safe — as he spins you around before putting you down gently again.

the second your toes touches the floor, your hands cup his face to guide him closer. as your lips graze his, you say the same phrase you always do, “didn’t i say i believed in you?” before sealing the kiss.

but he know that won’t meet him this time. instead he’ll be alone, joining his team straight for the wardrobe.

ex!tobio who for the first time considers being selfish with you.

and he hates himself for it.

that was the one thing he was determined not to be with you — and here he is considering it, phone in hand with your number dialled.

his life is turned upside down, nothing resembling what he has grown so accustomed to. and on every aspect, he feels himself going through what he believes have to be withrdrawls.

ex!tobio is back in japan.

your mouth runs dry when you walk by the newspaper kiosk, his familiar face printed on the front page of a sports magazine. one of japan’s star athletes is returning to his home country for a tournament.

at first you’re hit with a small pang of anger — why hasn’t he told you?

and realisation hits you all over again, and yet another evening is spent alone in your apartment with wet cheeks.

however, it’s worse than it has been in a long time. somehow your body knows that he is in the same city as you for the first time in months, and it causes your heart to ache.

you don’t sleep at all that night. instead you toss and turn with the image of your past love printed behind your eyelids.

no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen him, every detail is still intact in your memory. the exact shade of blue his irises are. the way the blush is easily brought to his face, starting across his nose before spreading across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. how he always tilts his head a little to the right when he is confused. the way his shoulders rise and fists clench when he is building up courage.

you remember it all.

ex!tobio who knows it’s naive to think you’ll show.

but it doesn’t stop him from letting his investigative stare roam the audience. one would think it is hopeless to even begin to look, but he knows he’ll spot you if you are in fact there.

he will always find you.

the game runs its course, and despite his best efforts, he never spots you in the crowd.

it doesn’t really matter that he wins the first match he plays for ali roma in his home country — because you’re not there to celebrate with him.

ex!tobio who freezes in his tracks as he is about to enter the men’s wardrobe when he hears you call his name.

“tobio?”

you voice is meek, like you’re scared. and truth be told, you are. he can clearly tell — the constant shifting of weight between each leg and the nervous fidgeting of your fingers clear indicators of so.

it’s a new feeling to take you hostage when in tobio’s presence.

for a second there’s utter silence before he hears the faint whispers of his teammates behind him, before they eventually shuffle on to leave you two alone.

he remains completely still in his spot. “hey,” he breaths, and you both immediately pick up on the fact that you’re not the only one who is nervous. he continues to stumble over his words, hoping your natural warm presence will eventually melt him out of his stance. “it’s good to see you.”

you pull your lips into an awkward smile. you too — the two words sit restlessly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason you’re unable to speak them into existence.

“great match! you played really well!”

he knows you’re smearing on thick, serving him a little white lie. because despite winning, he didn’t performed nearly as well as he could have. maybe being back home, knowing you were easily a car ride away, had messed with his head.

“thanks,” he says even though he can’t help but quirk a suspect eyebrow. “i didn’t see you. in the audience.”

“i watched from the hallway entrance. you know, the one in the top to the left?” it makes sense why he hadn’t seen you. tobio wouldn’t have been able to see anyone up there in that lighting. “and i also came late.”

“oh. okay.”

oh. okay.

he feels stupid as the sorry excuse for a response leaves his lips, but the unexpected reunion has caused his brain you temporarily short circuit.

“i wasn’t even sure if i should come,” you avert your gaze, tilting it to look at your own fingers.

“glad you did,” he says, wishing he could have mustered a steadier speech than he did.

there’s a whirlwind of turmoil causing havoc inside him, as he debates whether or not he should seize this moment that the universe has served him and finally let himself be selfish with you.

it’s so tempting. especially when you’re nearly within reach. he only needs to take five steps forward and he can pull you into him and have you rest your cheek against his chest like you always used to.

ex!tobio who dares take three steps closer at first.

when you look up at him again, he is scared you’ll step away once you see he is standing closer. but if anything, it looks as if you relax, lips parting with a soft sigh as you look at him with such awe in your eyes.

“how are you?” you ask innocently, knowing the answer you’ll get is not the answer you want.

he shrugs nonchalantly. “not too bad,” he lies, and he hopes you’ll call him out for it. “been busy.”

“so i’ve seen,” you try to smile, but you’re almost certain your sadness swallows it.

“you have?” there is a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone.

“of course,” you nod. “promised i would, didn’t i?”

and for the first time during your conversation, he smiles genuinely. it’s faint, almost unnoticeable, but it’s there and it’s so typical tobio.

ex!tobio who finally decides he cannot fight his desires anymore. your gentle affirmation, a reminder of your devotion to each other, wis the last drop that madke the glass run over.

he says your name, and you tilt your head at him.

“yeah?”

“i still love you.”

author's note : just need to remind you all i still love him... even tho this might not be the fic that proves it hehe

tags (open — link to taglist form) : @nishislcve . @ichore . @megapteraurelia . @loveyislost . @momoewn . @poopooindamouf tobio nation : @hiraethwa . @shouyuus . @silkloom . @sodaneko . @mcdonaldsnumberone

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[luffydotcom]

perfect pairs

synopsis: sharing their personalities/behaviours/traits feat: luffy, zoro, sanji (monster trio) + ace and law warnings: mention of alcohol (zoro), smoking (sanji), and reader has narcolepsy (ace)

notes: guys, which character do you resemble the most? cuz writing this had me thinking about that. for me it's gotta be THE monkey d. luffy himself

luffy

luffy is thrilled to find someone who is like him in every way. his personality is so unpredictable and unique, a guy like him being hard to find. it stuns him just how perfectly you're able to match his energy!

like luffy, you never hesitate to speak out whatever is on your mind at any given moment, much to the shock (and sometimes annoyance) of others. your blunt honesty (combined with luffy's) often results in hilarious moments that often can get you both into trouble.

much like the gluttonous captain, you also have a never-ending appetite, giving luffy competition at the dinner table. you both wolf down food at such speed that chopper has to urge you to calm down for your own health and safety. at mealtimes, it's a race between you and luffy at the dinner table. and of course, sanji has to work twice as hard now (the poor fella).

luffy's goofy and unserious demeanour is reciprocated with your own, as you both are constantly laughing together at even the silliest of things. he appreciates how you have the same sense of humour and never fail to crack a joke at the right moment, often without meaning to, and that you don't take life too seriously.

zoro

zoro is stunned at how you share so many similarities with him; he has to hide that he secretly enjoys having someone who understands him and how he operates.

by now, the crew are accustomed to zoro's endless napping, however he wasn't aware you also shared this same habit. he was surprised one afternoon when he was about to retreat to his usual napping spot against the ship railing, only to find you had beat him to it. the first few times, he was admittedly a little annoyed, but after, he was impressed.

just like zoro, you share his tendency to get lost almost anywhere. he couldn't miss how your eyebrows furrowed trying to understand a map, or how you often confused your lefts and rights. well, not that he could particularly tell the difference himself - but at least he wasn't the only one now.

when it comes to drinking, you're the perfect match for zoro - which he doesn't mind as he does love a bit of healthy competition. he's surprised to see you outdrink almost everyone in the crew, often leaving you two the last ones not fully wasted after a party. some nights end with you both talking over drinks at the table surrounded by bottles and shot glasses.

your strong, reserved and aloof nature is just like zoro's, which unsettles him initially, because just can't believe how much your personality mirrors his own. he takes careful notice to how you prefer showing your care through actions rather than words - a type of love language he fully understands.

sanji

sanji is amazed at how alike you both are - like two peas in a pod. he loves that he has someone who is like a mirror of him in the best ways, it's really fun!

sanji is surprised to find that you are a huge flirt, just like him. you have no issues walking up to someone you find attractive and shooting your shot (although you are much more successful than him in that area). your flirty and amorous personality also causes you to frequently flirt with him instead of him with you... which he definitely isn't against.

unfortunately, you do have a bit of a smoking habit yourself just like sanji. sanji doesn't worry about himself because for whatever bizarre reason, it seems to never affect his health, but he can't help but fret over you when he sees you take out a cigarette. although, since you smoke yourself, you'll light his cigarette for him from time to time and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

like sanji, you happen to also be a good cook, which has him swooning over you as it means you're the perfect partner to help in the kitchen. although you may not be at the same skill level as him, he's always open to your ideas and suggestions on food, and he indulges that he finally has someone who he can cook with.

above all, your kind-hearted and caring personality matches that of sanji's - he can't miss how you care deeply about the crew and would go above and beyond for their happiness, including his, and it never fails to warm his heart.

ace

seeing how much in common you have with ace is the best feeling - it feels like having an inseparable best friend and lover at the same time.

you're a little narcoleptic like ace is - falling asleep without control unpredictably. however, he's always at your side every time to make sure you're alright and safe from harm since it happens to him just as much.

like ace, you're very well-mannered. he can't help but notice the similarity between you both with how you treat others. you always remain polite and respectful, never missing a 'thank you', after a favour of any kind, and you're always quick to apologise after an accident or mistake. and aside from that, your etiquette is near next to perfect.

despite this, ace admires just how assertive (and even stubborn) you can be like him, especially when it comes to your friends or family. you never hesitate to stand up to anybody who threatens or insults the people you care for, and it makes him smile as he sees a little of himself in you.

law

this is exactly what law's wanted. finally he won't have to worry about someone bothering him or being a nuisance since you fully understand how that can be.

like law, you have a natural curiosity and desire to learn about the unknown. although he has his own goals and you have yours, you both want to uncover truth hiding behind mystery and won't stop until you find answers, especially when it comes to your identity and who you are.

he appreciates your intelligence and perceptiveness which he also shares, as not only does it prove useful in tough situations, but also that he's found someone who thinks in the same way he does. you approach conflict or fights using your intellect and don't rush into things without thinking them through. when putting your heads together, he's much easily able to think of a solution to a problem.

law is used to dealing with crazy antics almost all the time, especially after forming an alliance with the straw hats. however, you're not on the crazy side, instead more calm and reserved like he is. it makes him feel less alone when having to put up with well... everybody.

© luffydotcom

[paulyenvol6]

One Good Reason

Based on this lovely request! I'm sorry it took me so long and I'm sorry in advance because the next two requests might take me a while too, but I'm on vacation in London right now and don't find so much time to write. Anyways, enjoy :)

Contains: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m receiving), deepthroat, edging, fingering, orgasm denial, creampie, punshiment, dirty talk, dumbification, clueless and subby reader, jealousy, possessiveness, degradation, crying, dom!Joel, nicknames like slut, little aftercare, gagging

Wordcount: 5,365

Masterlist

Joel's jaw was tense. Too tense.

"Sit," he said, his tone commanding and cold, making you shudder. With big eyes you sat down on the couch and god these eyes were driving Joel insane.

"Joel. You said we – "

"Quiet," he hushed you and now you were officially confused.

"Joel," you tried again, your voice much more quiet and careful, but your thoughts loudly racing in your head.

Was he angry with you? Had you upset him?

"I said. Quiet."

With pouty and slightly trembling lips, you watched him, your palms resting on the couch to your left and right and your legs dangling off the edge. You found that you had no choice, but to wait for him to tell you what was going on, so you patiently watched him, but couldn't hide the light fear your face was drawn with.

Joel briefly clenched his hands into fists, rubbing over his palms before slightly spreading his legs and eyeing the way you played with your hair – looking all innocent and sweet although you were a naughty thing. A naughty thing who couldn't stop herself from getting into trouble all the time.

"A-Are you mad at me, Joel?" you eventually asked, thoughtfully furrowing your brow and chewing on your bottom lip.

"Jesus…," he groaned, closing his eyes only to straighten up and massage his temple.

"Can't get that dumb 'lil brain of yours to think for a second?"

"I – I don't know what you mean. Are you – is it 'cause I forgot the limes when I went grocery shopping? Because I already apologised and I thought – "

Joel raised his hand, glaring at you with piercing eyes, which was enough for you to shut up.

"No. You seriously have no idea? You got no fuckin' clue why I could be angry with you?"

Your eyes rounded up even more if that was possible, your lips so pouty and soft as you bit down on the inside of your cheeks.

"No… I don't think so," you stammered, helplessly searching his face as though the answer could be found in his small eyes.

"Oh you stupid 'lil thing… You can be fuckin' glad you got me 'cause I don't know how you would make it without me. Now get the fuck over 'ere."

You hesitated. Not because you didn't want to approach him or you were avoiding physical closeness, but because your brain was working so hard, your head began to throb. Images from the past days appeared before your eyes, the town meeting on Saturday, your dinner on Sunday, the game night with Maria and Tommy on Monday and the breakfast at Joey's diner as well as the stroll through the park today. You couldn't find anything suspicious and seriously wondered whether Joel was making fun of you right now. But his eyes seemed sincere, his eyes still narrowed and hard when you approached him and awkwardly stood in front of him, waiting for further instructions.

"Kneel," he barked, and you shivered. Okay, so this was definitely not him making fun of you.

"Joel, I really don't – "

He interrupted you, grabbing your hand and pulling you down on the ground himself, causing you to gasp as your knees hit the carpet.

"I recall tellin' you to shut up. You don't want this to become worse that it already is."

You were alarmed now, tears swimming in your eyes, but based on the things Joel had said so far, he wasn't in the kind of mood to let you wrap him around your little finger with a few tears and sweet words so you swallowed them. Instead, you placed your hands on your thighs, doe-eyedly glancing up to him and trying to keep as still as possible as Joel parted his legs wider to make room for you to settle in between.

"You really don't know… God, aren't you a dumb 'lil thing… If only you weren't so sweet while being all empty-headed. Useless fuckin' slut."

You swallowed hard, moving closer to his center while being so unaware of what your tiny gestures were doing to him. His throat was dry, his dick pressing up hard against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over the counter, rip your panties and fuck you dumb. As if you weren't already.

"I don't know," you repeated, staring into space through hazy eyes. "I really don't, Joel."

"You said that already," he pressed through gritted teeth, unbuckling his belt and slowly shoving down his jeans and boxers just a little bit to take out his erect dick.

"But maybe you'll remember when you really have to. Why don't we try, babygirl? Why don't we try 'n' give your mouth somethin' to work on an' maybe it'll be enough for you pretty, dumb head to figure it out. Maybe you're just a little too calm right now. Or maybe you don't really want to make an effort."

You lifted your chin at once, almost indignantly furrowing your brow and pinching your eyebrows together.

"No. I did try. Please, Joel, just tell me. I really don't know and I – I don't know what to do to remember."

He hushed you, cupping your chin for a second or two and then taking a fistful of your hair.

"Yeah… But maybe you do in a second. Maybe you just need somethin' to remind you. Open your mouth."

You obeyed immediately, dropping your jaw and only just inhaling deeply before Joel fed you his dick, slowly sliding past your lips until he arrived in the warmth of your mouth, humming to himself in pleasure, but collecting himself quickly.

"You know what we're gonna do, little one? I'll shove that dick down your throat until I'm aaaaall the way in inside you. Then we're gonna keep it there for a moment to give you time to think and really work that brain of yours. And when I think you're ready, I'll pull out and you're gonna talk. You're gonna tell me what you did wrong and what you're gonna do different next time. And then we're gonna think about what you can do to make it up to me and please me. If you don't talk – Well, we're gonna do it over and over again until you do. Until you tell me exactly why you angered me. I mean, I want to know that you put in an effort and try to be a good girl. Not knowing why you're gettin' punished is not a good start, pumpkin."

Joel hesitated, sighing as he watched you with his head tilted. He could literally see the words fighting through your clouded mind one by one, a muscle around your eyes twitching when the content of his words really crept up on you. And god did you look pretty with your mouth full with his dick. You couldn't reply anyway, so a nod of your head was what he had to settle with, your eyes round as coins and your cheeks already flush.

Thus far, Joel had been halfway inside you, but once he had the confirmation that you had understood the rules, he jerked forward with his hips, driving his dick into your mouth until he was inside of you to the hilt. You almost instantly retched, spit leaking from the corner of your mouth and your head flinching away.

"Shhh…," Joel made, keeping his grip around your head steady to keep you from pulling away and potentially making everything worse for you. Because it was the first round, Joel relatively spared you, staying inside your throat for merely 10 seconds and then dragging himself out of your welcoming mouth.

"And?" he fizzled once his tip was brushing over your plump lips, his insides clenching at the wetness glistening on your chin, which suggested that he had fucked your face for half an hour rather than half a minute.

"I don't know," you whimpered, tangling your fingers and pleadingly staring up to him.

If only you knew what you were doing to him, Joel thought with a wry grin, trailing along your jaw line and pursing his lips at the way your eyes brightened up. But of course this wasn't to his satisfactory, which was why Joel slammed his dick back into your paradisiacal heat without even commenting your words. This time he made you suffer longer, keeping his balls pressed to your face for almost 30 seconds while giving you almost no space at all to adjust to his length stuffing your throat. His tip tingled at the back of your throat and simultaneously caused you to gag, your view blurry as your face was forced to be in this unnatural position.

When he finally released you, he rapidly slipped out of your mouth with a plop sound, a thread of spit hanging between your upper lip and his shaft. You inhaled greedily, almost choking on the fresh wave of air you forced down on your throat, but could get a grip on yourself in the last minute. Although Joel had let go of you, he instantly cradled your head again once you had caught your breath with the purpose of maintaining control and dominance over the situation and show you your place.

"I'm listenin'," he barked and blared his teeth. Your wrinkled nose almost made him melt on the spot, his heart fluttering as you thoughtfully averted your gaze and carefully shook it.

"I'm sorry. I don't – Please, just – "

You were caught off once more and could only yelp as Joel forced his shaft down your throat again.

"That's disappointing, babygirl… I honestly thought you'd do better. You wanna keep goin' like this now? Until your throat's fuckin' red and bruised? Or you're gonna put this brain to work now and really make an effort?"

You were unable to answer, hot tears coating your view and his dick muffling any noises or complains threatening to spill out of your mouth. You were trying so hard, reliving every moment from the past days, but you couldn't find anything unusual. It couldn't be too long ago, right? He wouldn't punish you now for something that had been more than a week ago, right? Joel had been much too nice for that and if you had really done something to seriously upset him a longer time ago, he wouldn't have waited until now to make you feel the consequences. You were sure he wouldn't even have been able to hide his anger.

Your hands grasped his thighs, nails scraping his skin as if it was a way to release the pain, but you only halfly succeeded. It simply was too much, his dick so deep inside your mouth that it seemed like all you felt was him. That all you could think about, perceive, smell and taste was him and his indistinct scent. This time Joel kept you flush against his center for almost a minute, but to you it felt like ten times the amount of time. You could breathe through your nose, your nostrils flared to force more air down your lungs, but you had to cough every few seconds and felt your stomach thrum with the need to throw up. When he pulled back, you blinked, teary eyes fluttering and your lips swollen from the assault. Joel didn't even have to ask you. He just lifted an eyebrow, cupping your chin and tightening his hand at your attempt to escape him.

"You ain't done here yet, babygirl. You're goin' right back to work unless you have something to say."

He lightly squeezed your cheeks. "Do you?"

"P-Please," you whined, simply ignoring the mess of a combination of liquids that made your cheeks sticky and glitty and only seemed to increase as time passed.

"I don't know. Please, tell me, Joel, I'm sorry. I tried, I tried to remember b-but I – I don't. I just wanna be good for you a-and I love you and I don't wanna make you mad."

Joel had to supress a genuine smile. Not because he was anywhere close to being done with you, but because you sincerely were the most stunning, adorable and sweet creature he had ever seen. The big deer eyes, the way you couldn't keep them open at times, the trembling bottom lip you tried to get under control by biting down on it, the strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You were a mess, but a beautiful, pretty mess that Joel couldn't get enough of. That made a part of him want to lift you in the air, push you up against his chest and hold you until your crying had stopped. Just run a hand up and down your back and get lost in your sweet, adorable nature. But of course he wouldn't because you had something to apologise for and as long as he didn't hear those words out of your mouth he wouldn't stop.

That was why he shook his head in disapproval, tracing your jawline and then pulling at your lower lip to make it snap back.

"It's too late for that, hon. Open your mouth."

You sniffed and gulped in order to fight the soreness in your throat, but once his tip went past your lips you immediately felt the same stinging ache in the back of your throat again.

"Shhh…," he purred, gripping your hair tightly and tugging when you squirmed too hard.

"Take it. Take it or tell me what I wanna hear."

Tears were clouding your view, making your eyes feel swollen and puffy. Your whole body was on fire, arousal pooling between your legs just like sweat was covering your thighs and back. It was a strange and odd mixture of discomfort that was borderning on pain from time to time and sheer and intense pleasure. Please that made you want to be good for him so badly, so he would finally make love to you in a way you knew you didn't deserve right now. If only you knew why.

You gulped and retched, grabbing his legs to ground yourself and Joel didn't seem to have a problem with it as of now.

"C'mon…," he growled, head thrown back and lips red from the way he chewed on them.

"10 more seconds."

You didn't know how, but you managed to push through it. By the time Joel withdrew, you felt the need to cough and fortunately he let go of you for a moment so you could turn away from him, clear your throat and wipe over your eyes with the back of your hand.

"C'mere," he snarled after a minute, taking hold of a fistful of your hair and pushing your head against his inner thigh.

"Nothin'?" he simply whispered, raising his eyebrows and giving you this look of disgust and pity and somehow it was hurting more than anything he had done before.

"Alright. Gonna try somethin' different," Joel suddenly sighed. Your eyes shot up, widening in hope as he twisted his lips and rose to his feet while still keeping your head still by your hair.

"Get up. An' then take your clothes off and sit down on the couch."

These were rather promising prospects, so you weren't hesistant when you quickly stumbled to your feet, legs wobbly and weak under your weight and your sore knees hurting at the new posture. You cursed your slightly shivering hands as you pulled down your shorts, your clumsy fingers struggling with the zipper, but after you had tossed your clothes on a chair you felt the most confident and strong you had tonight. You sat down with a bubbling coiling heat in your stomach, thighs pressing together and your palms hurting from the way you buried your nails into your skin.

"Sit against the armrest. Legs spread," were his next instructions and just as you had obeyed him, getting comfortable on your bare ass, Joel appeared before your eyes. You desperately searched his face for any sign that he had softened up, that his punishment might perhaps even be over now, but there was nothing. His jaw was flexed, a vein prominent on his neck and a crease between his eyebrows.

"I swear, Joel, I really don't know what I did wrong," you assured him once again, blinking to prevent yourself from crying.

"Shut up. You're not enhancing your chances by talkin' all the fuckin' time. Givin' me those sweet doll eyes is your best shot, babygirl. So look at me. C'mon."

You wrinkled your nose which elicited a heavy exhalation from him and then gasped as Joel took hold of your ankles, adjusting your sprawled out body on the couch. Then he climbed on top of you, settling between your legs and letting his eyes wander from your legs up to your face until his gaze lingered on your bare pussy. You shouldn't feel embarrassed considering that Joel had seen you naked a million times already, but under these circumstances, you feeling so vulnerable in comparison to his dominant and intimidating appearance, you couldn't help but blush under his flashing pupils.

"Pretty," he whispered, vaguely cupping your pussy, but his words had taken you out so much, that you merely noticed it.

"Too pretty for such a dumb thing. Too sweet 'n' adorable for such a stupid 'lil head. What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

Joel didn't look like he was expecting an answer, which was why you simply kept eye contact although your eyes were watering again, pursing your lips and audibly swallowing.

"I feel like I should tie ya to the bed, stuff you with a toy 'n' then leave you there until you've learned your lesson. Or until you work that pretty brain and remember what you done wrong." He leaned in so his breath was brushing over your temple.

"But call me weak or – or frail, but I won't be able to leave this fuckin' pussy alone."

You whined out as he began rocking his palm against your clit, the corner of his mouth twitching at your facial reactions.

"Yeah. Gimme those sweet eyes. Show me how sweet you can be for me."

Joel gently parted your legs wider, lowly growling as your breathing became heavier. Two fingertips prodded your hole, circling it at a pace that you would consider cruel and sliding his palm back and forth. In less than a minute the two fingers made their way inside your cunt, slowly and carefully as if Joel was scared to hurt you, entering you.

"Joel," you whimpered, close to tears again, although you couldn't quite grasp the source of it. "I'm sorry, I – I wanna be good. I just… I just don't know what…"

He hushed you with a single finger pressing down on your upper lip and then applied more pressure on your throbbing clit.

"I said shut up. Or do you wanna make me angrier? You're not in a good position here right now if you haven't notice already. You made me mad, couldn't remember why and didn't even figure it out while I punished you. I coulda made you suck my dick all night, but I didn't 'cause I had pity with you and now there's one fuckin' thing I expect from you, you dirty slut. And you can't even do that."

A sob went through your body, your hands clenching and your brows pinching as the effects of his words took over. You just wanted to cry. You had disappointed him so badly and felt so helpless here, your head throbbing from the way you so strenuously concentrated on the events of the past days, but no matter how hard you tried, there was no progress. No idea, no suspicion and although part of you definitely couldn't think straight from the way Joel rubbed his hand against your core, you still couldn't believe that Joel was so angry while you had no hunch at all.

A little later, you wouldn't have been able to say if it was 5 minutes or 50 minutes, the first signs of an orgasm approached you, drops of sweat rolling down the inside of your thighs a warm, stouthearted pressure pulsing in your lower belly. By now his two digits were buried inside of you to the hilt, curled and determined as they repeatedly hit the soft, spongy spot hidden deep inside you. It felt so good, you wanted to scream and shout for him to go harder and stop him at the same time because something about his mood made you fear what was going to happen. He still seemed much too angry to just drop the whole thing so he surely wouldn't just let you cum like this and then send you to bed…?

Your suspicion was soon to be confirmed. A slight clench of your pussy and the way your eyes squeezed shut were all it took for Joel to stop. His hand was still resting on your center, but it didn't move any longer and his reaction to the rolling of your hips to create the much needed friction was a firm hand holding you down.

"Joel, please. Please, don't. I just – " He slightly withdrew, your hips frustratingly grinding against nothing.

"Say what you did wrong, babygirl," he whispered, sounding almost… amused? At least there was a light tinkle in his tone while he darted down at you, thoughtfully curling his lips.

"I can't, Joel, you know that I can't. I'm sorry. Please."

"And I don't think you've tried hard enough."

What were you supposed to do?

You believed that you couldn't go any further, that there was nothing left for you to try to satisfy him. He was so determined in his actions, so convinced of the fact that all he had to do for you to speak the truth was push you further, but what if you couldn't? What if Joel would never be satisfied and be mad about you forever? Okay, that might be an exaggeration, you had to admit, yet new tears welled in your eyes at the mere thought of it.

Before you could finish the thought, Joel continued rocking his palm against your clit, your legs involuntarily pressing together and your pussy eagerly throbbing for the return of his fingers.

"S'a bit disappoin', isn't it? I knew you tend to get all cock-drunk on me whenever I just take a look at that pussy but this really is a new level, hon. An' your sweet eyes and that pout don't change anythin', baby. They might be nice for me to look at, but don't think for a second that they're gonna help you get out of your punishment."

In a record breakingly short amount of time, you were dangling dangerously close to the edge of a orgasm you were yearning for so badly again. Joel's two fingers were penetrating you, his lips occasionally leaning in to kiss you on your cheek or neck and his palm rough and fast as it stimulated your clit. You were a trembling mess underneath him, sweat sticky on top of your thighs and your nipples stiff.

"Please," you soon whispered, equally scared that Joel was going to stop and that he would be mad if you didn't tell him that you were close.

"What. Give me one good reason why you deserve to cum."

Suddenly something shifted in his face. His eyes were briefly flashing, pervaded by a dark glimmering light and his jaw was clenched, his mouth nothing more than a thin line. Before you were able to reply, you were suddenly flipped onto your stomach, your hands reaching for the armrest to hold on to something as Joel parted your ass cheeks.

"Maybe this'll work on you… Maybe you just need a dick to destroy that 'lil cunt o'yours in order for you to remember how to use that mouth to talk."

Your fingers grasped a pillow, squeezing tightly as you prepared yourself for the slight inevitable stretch, but when he slid in, there was no trace of discomfort. Joel was thick and he certainly didn't go slow, but you were so drenched that there was no restriction at all.

"Next time it'll be your fuckin' ass. I'll fuck that tight hole of yours and maybe through your cryin' you'll tell me your apologies in a way that's gonna make me content. And now you're 'lil cunt better squeeze me tightly or I'll have to put my attention elsewhere. And there's no fuckin' way you'll cum tonight, so you better not even try. I don't care about your sweet whines 'n' pleas. I'm fuckin' serious."

He grunted and bottomed out, filling you to the hilt and starting to pound you at a steady pace. He wasn't even able to hide his fury in the way he was fucking you, his balls slapping against your cunt and producing obscene smacking noises and his tip hitting your cervix whereas he usually was so careful with not going too deep and possible hurting you.

"J-Joel," you whimpered, reaching behind you not because he was seriously causing you pain, but because you craved his presence so much. You just wanted him to hold your hand and brush over your knuckles and the fact that you wouldn't be getting it until you remembered this damn thing you had done wrong made you want to cry out.

"Shut up. M'gonna cum inside of you now 'cause I don't know what else to do with ya so you stop actin' like a dumb 'lil puppy an' then we'll go to bed and you rest that head of yours. Now look at me and keep those eyes open. I know you can be such a pretty puppy for me if you try hard enough. So get over it 'n' at least try to be good."

Joel spanked your butt once, his nostrils wide and his breath hitching as you looked over your shoulder and initiated eye contact.

"I wanna be good," you whispered, gasping at his forceful thrusts.

"Yeah you do?" he asked and grabbed a thick strand of your hair.

"Show me then. You're gonna keep still 'n' stop complainin' and lemme fill that pussy 'til my cum runs down your thighs. C'mon, babygirl. Lemme feel how bad she needs me," he growled and groaned as he stopped inside of you for a moment, pushing you up the couch and changing the angle so he could go as deep as possible.

"I'm gonna cum, Joel. Please. I really need to," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes close and praying for him to be mercyful. You had suffered for long enough and if only Joel saw it the same way…

"No. You're not gonna cum. You messed that up earlier in the fuckin' park and then you did it over and over again. Not bein' able to tell me what you did wrong, cryin' and moanin' 'cause you didn't get what you wanted but you didn't make an effort either."

Your thoughts were racing, your mind so absent that you even forgot about his punishing pace for a moment. The park…? Joel must have sensed the way it worked behind your forehead because he tightened his grip in your hair and pushed you into the cushion.

"Yeah, that's right. The fuckin' park… If you had used your brains for a second you wouldn't have talked to the guy like that."

"What guy?" it broke out of you, your eyebrows tense as you peeked over your shoulder.

"The guy that clearly wanted to fuck you. An' you acted like you didn't want anything more in your life."

Slowly the puzzle pieces assembled in your head and a picture started to form. Yet, once started, Joel didn't stop.

"The guy that fuckin' dropped his book just so you would bend over 'n' pick it up and he could get a good look at your ass. And you? You were playin' alone and gave him these stupid fuck-me eyes that only I am supposed to see. You behaved like you were just waitin' for him to rip your clothes off and it was goddamn disgusting babygirl."

You gulped and suddenly felt more than bad. Yes, it made so much sense now. How quiet Joel had been on the way back to the house and if you thought about it now, yes, the guy in the park had been very friendly. Too friendly, perhaps.

"Joel, I – " you started, but were interrupted soon.

"No. It wasn't that hard to come up with this, was it? An' you're tellin' me you couldn't think of this yourself?"

"I'm sorry. I really am, I didn't – I didn't think he was interested in me like that, I swear," you choked between his thrusts, your mouth struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"I thought he was just trying to be nice. He was. He was kind and – and I didn't question it."

"I know you didn't," Joel replied and rolled his hips a few times as he was inside of you, making you really feel him with every fibre of your body.

"That's why you're in this position right now. Arch your back," he added and pressed down on the small of your back.

"I'm gonna cum, babygirl. Deep inside of your pussy the way only I can. Not some guy in a park who probably has never seen a naked woman before. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this useless hole and fill you up with my cum. Understood?"

As quickly as possible, you nodded and stretched yourself toward him ever more.

"Yes, Joel. I only want you. No one else."

Apparently, this was all it took for Joel to release with a deep growl and despite not reaching your high yourself, you felt your view get cloudy at the feeling of his sticky, warm seed coating your walls.

"Oh jesus… Oh fuck, yeah, that's it… Oh fuck… Take it all, c'mon. Don't wanna see anythin' drippin' down your legs."

He pushed into you a few more times before gently stroking up the side of your body, briefly tracing the side of your breasts.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl, m'proud of you."

You almost flinched at his words, your eyes frantically dancing as you stared into space and wondered whether he was genuine. Your eventual response was a muffled and broken whine that made Joel sigh.

"Lemme take a look at ya," he whispered, his tone low and soft and slipped his flaccid dick out of you only to grab you by your hips and turn you on your back.

"S'okay, babygirl…," he purred, hushing you as you sniffled a couple of times and brought a finger to your lips.

"It's okay. You took your punishment well. An' I think you got my point, didn't you?"

"Yes. I did, I'm sorry. I understand why – why you had to do it."

Joel smiled in satisfaction, lazily caressing the skin of your hips and bicep and smirking at the way you were barely able to keep your eyes open.

"Think you need some rest now, hon. Sleep if you want to. And I will make you feel good in the mornin'. Everythin' will be alright… I'll take care of ya 'cause you were good and behaved and now you deserve to cum too. Just wait until the mornin', we both need some sleep, okay? Is that okay for my princess?"

Princess.

Your heart fluttered and clenched at the nickname, your eyes big as you pleadingly stared up to him.

"Yes. I'm really tired," you confirmed and then grinned as Joel rolled off you to lay right next to you on the couch.

"Then sleep. I'll be right there next to you and if it's gonna be uncomfortable later, I'll carry you to bed. Just relax, sweetheart."

You exhaled, your breathing becoming steadily louder and more audible as you drifted off to sleep.

A quiet 'I love you' was the last thing you perceived before you felt yourself slipping away, body and mind finally utterly at peace again.

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe 2 Colors - Ep. 7

I'm watching the second season of Pit Babe on mute with no subtitles and double-speed just like I did the first season, so I loved that several people tagged me the second they saw Vegas' Hedgehog with a red-colored drink AGAIN knowing I would latch onto it like a tiny baby gripping someone's hair with the strength of Hercules.

BECAUSE SOMETHING IS UP WITH HIM!

And these two's colors are the biggest reason I think this.

Barbie is a Black Brooder. His entire world is darkness.

So Charles is the light to Barbie's dark world. We saw it visually presented multiple times this episode.

Charles is a Blue Boy, and he wears white often, but even when he is wearing dark blue, he is still lighter compared to Barbie's darkness, and in this episode, the light shown directly on him several times as if he was the light itself while also establishing that Barbie loves him as he was surrounded by blue.

Without Charles, Barbie is depressed.

But when Barbie has Charles, he is much lighter and brighter.

Because Charles is the light. He is practically shown to be an angel with a halo.

Which is why I mistakenly believed this scene would be a dream when it was shown in the teaser trailer because it was sooo bright; however, it's real, and it shows not only that Barbie and Charles love each other with 🎶The Blinding Light of Love🎶 but it also shows that Charles is the brightest of them all.

Charles is the savior.

And he is willing to sacrifice himself for others. Even going as far as giving up his life.

So it makes sense that Charles would try to help Jeffrey any way he could with whatever Jeffrey is going through because something is changing Jeffrey. Unlike Charles and Barbie who are mainly one color, Jeffrey shuffles between red and blue, yet this season he started blue and began to lose color.

I've been upset at Alan for wearing red because in the first season, it was a sign of Team Evil.

But maybe, when it comes to Alan and Jeffrey, it starting to mean danger like a red alert.

Something is wrong with Alan, and regardless of what it is, I think this leaves him vulnerable for Team Evil to take advantage of him.

In Jeffrey's vision, someone is laying on the ground next to Anthony.

And someone is shot. Does this person look like Alan? Does it look like Jeffrey next to him? We know Team Evil gets Alan, so is this how they get him?

Putting that aside, Charles knows Jeffrey is in trouble because now he is seeing multiple visions of himself. But my questions is are all these visions from the future or are some possibly from the past?

In Jeffrey's vision, Charles was bleeding, especially from his nose, and this has happened to Jeffrey each time he has had a vision this season (so I'm guessing Charles took Jeffrey's powers), but we also saw that Kentana gets taken and experimented on. Or was he already taken and experimented on? The teaser trailer showed him getting caught by Whiny Winifred later, so I think this vision is the future, but it's still odd to me that Anthony busted Dean, Kentana, and Winifred out of jail, just to magically let two of them go without any other plans.

Especially because we know Anthony experimented on William.

Anthony has moved on from keeping bonsai trees alive to sprucing up taxidermied animals, so we know he has moved on from maintaining his expensive army to waking up the dead.

Compared to our savior and light of life Charles, Anthony is the angel of death.

And now William is doing whatever he is doing because of Anthony, yet he doesn't seem thrilled about it. This seems forced.

Peter and Kentana know a few things about being forced to do Anthony's business. Just like Anthony's other "kids" (Barbie, Waymond, William) who are forced to do things they don't want, Kentana and Peter are Black Brooders, but Peter has more pops of blue this season to show how good of a guy he is.

And Kimberly has provided a nice, light balance to Kentana, much like Charles has provided Barbie.

But Kimberly isn't light himself. He is a balancer, so unlike Charles who is the light to Barbie's darkness, Kimberly is a stabilizer, to all the group, which is probably why Alan is talking to him (while Alan is shown to be hurt AGAIN!!!), and it's why Kentana is allowed to be light because Kimberly absorbs his darkness.

Kentana, the guard dog, is now being protecting by Kimberly, but Kimberly is not a savior like Charles. He seems willing to protect people, but not to sacrifice himself for others the way Charles is.

Which brings me back to Barbie's light in his dark world. Barbie was happy when Alan was speaking to the team and Dean, but the second everyone dispersed, Barbie's entire demeanor changed. Without Charles' light, Barbie shifts quickly between moods.

And that's why it was so odd that Sonic was unhappy throughout the talk. Barbie's mood changed after, but Sonic was visibly upset during it. Barbie was also highlighted by blue, while Sonic was backed up by red. And even more strange is the fact that Sonic, who has been wearing white, is now wearing black. Southwest Airlines is in pink. He is smiling. He is love. But Sonic?

Sonic has never been a consistent color, but this season, he walked into that garage in white, and ever since then, shit has gone off the rails. Alan is in pain. Jeffrey's visions are hurting him, William started racing, Dean, Kentana, and Winifred got out of jail, and Christopher showed up, but he isn't an angel in white coming to save everyone like Charles, and he isn't a balancer like Kimberly? So why is he so upset at what Alan is saying? Why is he wearing black now? Why is he drinking red drinks? Is it because he is actually an angel of death like Anthony? Is he because he is being forced to do something he doesn't want to like William? Did he die like Waymond?

AND WHERE THE HELL IS CHRISTOPHER?!

One of these suspicious motehrf*ckers is always missing!

[sweetbunpura]

Cruise of a Lifetime Ch. 4

Kalim would like to treat NRC to a cruise for summer break... he may have forgotten to tell everyone WHO else was sharing the ship with them...

Tie into: Rescue from RSA

Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch. 3

WC: 975

After unpacking their luggage, the Ramshackle group departed for the dining room as the ship began to depart from port. Entering the room, Yuu could see various students from NRC and RSA eating, although there was still a very clear divide between the schools. 

“I might take back what I said about this being a good month.” She said as Rollo handed her a plate.

“It’s bound to happen.” The man states factly. “They have a history, after all.”

“Mm-hmm.” Yuu glanced over to where Fellow and Gidel were. “Take what you can eat.”

Fellow tsk’d and flicked his tail as he added a piece of baked chicken to Gidel’s plate. The man jerks his head towards Grim, who reaches for the tongs of a nearby food pan despite his plate already stacked high.

“Grim.” Yuu warns, causing the direbeast to freeze and look at her. “Take what you can eat.”

Grim puts the utensils back and steps away timidly. A chuckle sounds behind her and Rollo, causing them to direct their attention to the man standing there.

“Didn’t mean to alert ya, love.” Hatley tips his hat with a mysterious smile. “Just thought it was humorous is all.”

Rollo covers his mouth with his handkerchief before his face can twist into a scowl. 

“Hey, Hatley.” Yuu greets him calmly. “Sorry if we’re in your way.”

“No, no, not at all.” Hatley waves his hand. “Just grabbin’ something for Andy. Your room nice?”

“Very. Yours?”

“I’m bunked with Andy, so I’ll let you decide that yourself.” The vice leader sighs as Yuu laughs at the image. “Laughin’ at my misery, are we?”

“Yeah.” 

“Too cruel, Love.” Hatley glanced at the murderous look Rollo was giving him. “Well, I just stopped by for a chat. Lemme get goin’.” He departed with a wave and walked off.

“Stop that.” Yuu voiced once the vice leader was out of earshot.

“I didn’t say anything.” Rollo defended and turned back towards the array of food. “I just... he’s aggravating.”

“You say that about everyone.”

“Am I wrong in doing so?” He eyes the food with a raised eyebrow. “Is any of this good?”

“Grilled salmon.” Yuu voices as she reaches to put it on her plate. “And...” She trailed off as she walked down the line.

Rollo mentally sighs and adds whatever pasta is on the menu to his plate followed by the grilled salmon Yuu had just put on her plate. Once they had selected what they wanted, they joined the others at the table to see Grim picking clean the bones of whatever he had eaten.

“It is simply astounding how much he can pack away.” Skully said as he observed the direbeast.

“Him.” Rollo pointed at the pair across the table with his knife. “And them.”

Fellow blinked out of his food stupor as he placed his fork down and wiped his mouth clean. His plate, as well as Gidel’s, was clean.

“I was merely appreciating the quality of food.” Fellow defended as he eyed Rollo with a smirk on his face. “At least I EAT the food and don’t pick at it.”

“I do not pick at it.”

“Sorry, meant to say “Picky eater.”

“You-”

“Do not.” Yuu drank her water and stared at the two of them. “This is a vacation, not a fight. I don’t want any of you causing any trouble.”

“Of course.”

“Fine, fine.” Fellow flicked his tail and drank the rest of his soda. “Actually, I got a dare for you, Ringleader.”

“....Should I be concerned given that it is coming from you after all.” Rollo stares at him as he finishes his salmon.

“Nah, nah. I wanna see how long you last without being glued to Beastmaster Homura’s side.”

Rollo blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You two are ALWAYS together.” Fellow explains. “She hardly has any time to herself-”

“Fellow.” Yuu warned.

“-And it’s about time you make new friends!”

“...I’m making friends.” Rollo tried to defend himself.

“Regardless, my point stands. So, for the next week outside of returning to the room and us eating, you need to be on your own and away from Beastmaster.”

“....” Rollo narrowed his eyes. “And if I win?”

“....I’ll clean the bathrooms with no complaining for a week.”

“Three weeks.”

“A week and a half.”

“Two weeks.”

“Deal-”

“Hold on.” Yuu interrupted them before they could shake hands. “What happens if he can’t do it?”

“....” Fellow smirked. “He has to wear a goat onesie and post it to Magicam.”

Rollo’s immediately turned red and he glared daggers at the snickering fox beastman. “Not on your life nor in a thousand years will you get me to wear that.”

“Then you better win.” He held his hand out. “Shake on it?”

“.....” Rollo shook his hand and Yuu let out a sigh before getting up from the table.

“I’ll leave you boys to explore the rest of the ship.” She gave Rollo a kiss on his cheek as she departed. “We’ll meet back up at six for dinner!”

“Gideon and I are going to check the arcade.” Gidel took off out of the dining room while Fellow put their plates away and followed after him.

“I’m gonna go find Ace and Deuce!” Grim jumped from the table.

“You are more than welcome to join Sebek and I if you wish, Master Rollo.” Skully smiled as he extended his invitation, which Rollo rejected with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll see you at dinner then.” He soon departed and left the vice leader of Ramshackle at the table.

Rollo sighed and got up to put away his own plate only to pause as a shadow was suddenly cast over him. He didn’t dare look behind him as he spotted the horns attached to said shadow.

“Flamme. Would you like to accompany me in exploring the vessel?” 

[hadaldemon]

!!NOT A REQUEST!!

How do you think the other beasts might act if they had Tako forms?

Taking that they all can't detach their own heads on their own (per my knowledge) let's say they can now because Shadow Milk pranked them. They all be shocked at first yes, but once they realize it's harmless they will deal with it or find its uses until it wears out.

Eternal Sugar wouldn't have much use of this form on its own because she already makes other cookies or sugar angels do her chores.

If she is as lazy as I think she is, she will probably lose or leave her head around and don't even bother to pick it up because, well, getting that weight off your shoulders once in a while should feel nice. She will end up waiting to be picked up by someone, specially by you... maybe losing her head around is not that accidental as it looks...

She is gonna use her new "condition" to look helpless and try to gain sympathy from you being like "oh please, please! wouldn't you lend me your help, my dear? I have been so cruelly cursed and now I'm a defenseless cookie. I really need you my sweet, please, carry me and hold me close~~" so you would carry her everywhere.

Once you pick her up she will behave like a spoiled princess, asking you oh so sweetly to do everything for her: carry her around, brush her hair, feed her, pamper her... just... don't put her down and leave her behind, not even for a moment, or she is gonna have nasty meltdown. She is your curse to carry now.

Like everyone else, she can walk with her hair but because hers is that curly she wouldn't walk, she would "jump" around using her hair as springs... but she won't get far, it will exhaust her quickly.

Also, imagine poor Pavlova seeing Eternal Sugar's head on the floor getting his hopes up thinking that the beast has been slain and... nope, no, she is just there, sleeping and still very much alive. Poor dude.

Mystic Flour... what can I say? She wouldn't care much, honestly. Meditate with or without her head would be the same. Spreading the pale plague with or without her head would be the same, maybe even faster if there are two sources.

I don't know why but I think she would have a bit of a hard time, even if she says she is fine and doesn't care. Maybe she would have trouble reattaching her head, maybe she would leave her head somewhere in the pagoda and her body can't find it... all in all, she will need some occasional help from Cloud Haetae or from you.

She would be very grateful to you and Cloud Haetae when any of you help her return her head to her body. She really would try to not be a burden but... if you are the one carrying her she wouldn't be able to help herself but feel... joy... and silently wishing that you could keep holding her for a little bit longer but she won't admit it.

So, sometimes, when you are carrying her head and trying to bring it to her body she would try to guide remotely and hide her body away from you, extending that little stroll you both are taking together a little longer.

Even if you catch on what she is trying to do, from time to time just play along alright? let her be a little bit selfish and childish sometimes, I think she needs it.

About her walking style while in tako form... err... god, this gonna sound cursed... she would stand on her two tassels and walk like normal. If she lets her hair down she would walk, of course, like a spider.

Burning Spice is gonna take this as a challenge! How much carnage and destruction he could bring to these lands using just his head, he will wonder excitedly.

He will get the hang of it pretty quickly and I'm sure he will find its advantages for battle, like: grapple fleeing enemies with his teeth and bring them closer to his body using his hair as rope, do a one-cookie pincer movement, use his head as some kind of flail, throw his head at enemies so it gets tangled on their legs and slow them down...

Basically, he would behave the same, even with you. He would still demand you to spar with him, would still be your secret guard dog, would still boldly ask you to tend to his hair when he wants to relax for once... the only difference it's that he is now just a head... his body would still be spreading devastation or hunting some poor soul down witches know where, so efficient!

However, in that form, he would now also ask you very enthusiastically to use him as a weapon. Use his head in any way you see fit, be rough, be messy, whatever, as long as he is helping you eviscerate your enemies he would be overjoyed. He would encourage you more and more as the battle progress to be more reckless with him: "Come on! I will show them our power! I will prove my might to you once more! Throw me at them with all your strength! Hahahaha!" as if he was an overly excited grenade.

As only a head, he could walk with hair but I guess he would prefer to roll around like some devastating black ball full of thorns, smashing and wrecking everything that stands on his way.

Silent Salt... who said they don't have some kind of tako form already? I say this because sometimes I headcanon that Silent Salt is a hollow possessed armor entity. All will be exactly the same if that were the case.

Because of I'm writing this when they have not been released yet I don't know what they usually do or behave after they have been released from their confinement. Despite that, I believe they would be your knight in ebony armor, protecting and following you closely whether you like it or not.

Perhaps, after seeing their beast companions in their new state, they would get new ideas about how they could shield you from danger, for example, wearing their helmet.

What better way there is to safeguard you than literally wrap you with themselves? Maybe wear the rest of them while at it, nothing will stand between you and them that way. They would have never guessed that this complete and intimate act of your preservation would feel so... fulfilling... at the price of your freedom. Yeah, because ,basically, you would be wearing some kind Fallout's power armor but you are not the one piloting it.

Regarding how their head/helmet would get around maybe they could shape their ponytail like a hand and crawl around like The Thing from Adams Family. Another alternative, since they are possessed armor, maybe all their armor parts can split up and float around just like how it's shown in this youtube video about dark souls.

[zyart-jpg]

A/N: HAHAHA im sorry yeah ive been neglecting my man these days huh :( HERE'S A FULL-ON FIC FOR HIM JUST FOR YOU ANON! (sorry if it's long, angst is my forte LMAO) This is heavily based on Jungkook's Seven MV, btw! I listened to the song so much while writing it that my head hurt.

"Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is"

Pairing: Wooin Yoo x Reader

Summary: No, you're not breaking up with him! Nuh-uh!

Tags: Toxic RS, Break-up, Angsty but he's still a little shit lmao, good ending<3

He’s not a good guy. Never claimed to be.

Sure, he lets you in—on the bad days, the loud ones, the ones where he can't drown out the voices in his head. You’ve held him when he broke, watched him come undone in the safety of your arms like that was the only place he allowed himself to fall apart.

But he’s no hero. Not even close. He’s a walking contradiction: impulsive, selfish, stitched together by late nights and poor decisions. He’ll kiss you like salvation and leave like a storm. Whatever softness he offers is fleeting—just a crack in the armor before he slips back into chaos.

And the worst part?

He knows. He’s always known. He’s never tried to be more than what he is. You just hoped he’d try anyway.

So when you finally ended things, you thought—naively—that he'd let you go. Maybe not with grace, but with a sliver of respect. You figured he’d take the hint, admit you were both dragging something dead behind you for too long.

But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

He didn’t go quietly.

He looked at you like you shot him in the chest mid-dinner—chopsticks frozen, mouth parted, eyes wild. He argued like breakups were business deals—said it wasn’t real unless both parties signed off. Refused to leave your apartment like the couch had visitation rights, and when you finally shoved him out the door, he just started showing up somewhere else.

Everywhere else.

First, it was your workplace—loitering outside like a delinquent, ordering overpriced coffee just to sit there for hours, watching. Waiting. Sometimes he’d follow you after your shift, cycling beside you like a stray dog with a pink bike and too many apologies. Talking, begging, annoying—never asking, just assuming you’d give in.

Then came the “accidental” run-ins—where morning jogs turned into awkward races. Where he’d flash that crooked smile, talk shit while trying to keep up, still trying to turn cardio into a second chance.

Even the nail salon wasn’t safe. You walked in and there he was, already mid-manicure—black polish, smug grin, fingers fluttering in your face like he just won something. You stormed out before the base coat could dry.

Your friends wanna hangout to keep him off your mind? Didn’t matter. He always found you. Always slipped in like he belonged there, arm around your waist, lips brushing your ear, whispering the same damn line like it was a song stuck on loop.

“I miss you. Please. Take me back.”

And every time you walked away—quiet, steady, not even sparing him a look—you made sure to take everything with you. The warmth, the touch, the unspoken promises. You peeled his hands off like they burned, left without giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not a glance. Not a word. Nothing he could mistake for hope.

It’s not that you stopped loving him. That was never the problem.

The problem was how loving him always felt like too much—and never enough.

Too much in the way you were always on edge, constantly worried about what he was doing, where he was, what kind of trouble he was dragging himself into this time. Too little because for all the nights spent wrapped around each other, for all the whispered secrets and broken pieces laid bare—you still barely knew who he really was.

He’d get angry when you were. Clingier when you pulled away. It was always extreme with him—never steady, never safe. Push and pull. Fire and frost. A rhythm that felt more like whiplash than love.

Toxic, really.

Even if your heart didn’t want to call it that.

And yet, despite everything—despite the silence, the distance, the mess you swore you wouldn’t walk back into—some small, stupid part of you still sparks whenever he shows up. That reckless part that remembers the way he used to lean against his car, smirking like he knew you’d be looking.

Maybe that’s why your eyes drift without thinking as soon as your shift ends—sweeping the street for that obnoxiously loud Mustang. The one with the slick black paint and yellow hood that looked like it belonged in a movie chase scene, always parked like it owned the space. He used to sit on the hood like it was a throne, legs crossed at the ankle, pretending not to care while watching you with that unreadable grin.

You don’t mean to search for it. It just happens. Muscle memory. Like an echo of him still clings to your daily routine.

But he’s not there today.

No revving engine. No dumb yellow sunglasses pushing into his hair. No last-minute attempts to convince you that he still means something.

Just traffic and strangers and the fading hum of the city folding in on itself.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and tug your jacket tighter around you, heading toward the bus stop. The air smells like wet pavement, and the drizzle picks up again—gentle but persistent, soaking into your sleeves and making everything feel just a little heavier.

By the time you board the bus, the windows are already fogging up. You settle into your usual seat by the window, forehead against the cool glass as raindrops begin their slow race down.

And for a moment—just one—you almost wish he was out there.

You’re half-grateful for the buzz in your pocket—a small jolt that yanks you out of the spiral before it swallows you whole. With a sigh, you fish out your phone, thumb already swiping before your brain catches up. Just another notification, you assume. Maybe a meme.

But then you see it; Plain. Simple. Ominous.

Joker — 6:04 PM

Your stupid boyfriend’s in the ER. He wants you to come.

You freeze.

The words don’t register at first—just sit there, heavy and unreal, like they belong to someone else’s life. But then your breath stutters, heart lurching sideways in your chest.

You don’t remember getting off the bus.

One second, you’re sitting by the window, the next you’re pushing past people, stumbling into the cold with nothing but adrenaline guiding your limbs. The rain’s heavier now—slick, relentless, blurring lights and faces as you shove your way to the curb. You don't even think. You just move.

A cab appears like it was summoned by panic. You barely remember speaking, barely feel your fingers dragging soaked hair out of your eyes as the city rushes by in streaks of wet neon.

Your brain’s a mess of static. His name. The ER. The tone of that damn message. You can’t breathe right, can’t sit still. Every red light feels like punishment. Every second, a countdown.

By the time you reach the hospital, you’re drenched—clothes sticking, teeth chattering, breath coming short and sharp. You don't remember paying. Don’t remember walking in. Just the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting you like a wall and the cold, awful weight of not knowing.

And then—you’re running. Or maybe drifting. Maybe both.

All you know is: he’s here.

And suddenly, that’s all that matters.

You practically crashed through the double doors of the emergency wing, soaked to the bone, shoes squeaking with every frantic step on the linoleum. The nurse barely finished pointing you down the hall before you were already sprinting, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.

"Wooin?" you called, voice breaking mid-syllable, eyes scanning every open curtain, every figure in a hospital gown—desperate for a glimpse of him, for something, anything to tell you he was okay.

Your pulse was in your throat. You couldn't breathe right. Images flashed through your mind faster than you could control—ambulance lights, blood on pavement, his body limp and broken. You didn’t even feel the cold anymore. Only the rising dread that maybe you’d been too late.

But then—

“Oh,” a familiar voice drawled, annoyingly casual, “you came?”

And there he was.

Not bleeding out. Not unconscious. No doctors hovering, no beeping machines hooked to his chest.

Just him, leaned back against a hospital bed like it was a damn couch, one leg propped up, scrolling through his phone with all the urgency of someone waiting for their Uber Eats. 

A neon red lollipop dangled between his lips, and when he saw your face—your completely wrecked, rain-slicked, breathless face—he had the audacity to grin.

“Was starting to think you wouldn't.”

Your panic—your bone-deep, full-body panic—collapsed into pure, white-hot fury.

"You lied to me," you snapped, voice cracking under the weight of everything you'd just been through. "You said ER. I thought—God, I thought you were dying, Wooin!"

He blinked, as if that was the dramatic part of this whole thing. "I am in the ER," he said, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and gesturing vaguely to a small, barely-there cut on his forehead. It was already cleaned and bandaged like an afterthought. “Look. Blood and everything.”

You just stood there, trembling and soaked, fists clenched at your sides.

All that panic. All that sprinting. The cab. The rain. The ache in your chest. And for what?

A cut and a lollipop?

“Are you actually insane?” you hissed, storming closer. “Do you have any idea what I just went through thinking you were—were hurt? Like really hurt?”

He looked at you, smile faltering just slightly. “I am hurt,” he mumbled, like a child getting scolded. “Emotionally.”

You gaped at him. "Emotionally?"

“You haven’t answered me in days.”

You stared, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. The nurses nearby were trying not to stare, but you couldn’t even care at this point.

“You dragged me halfway across the city, soaking wet, convinced me you were dying—because what? You wanted attention? Is that it, Wooin?”

He opened his mouth, then wisely closed it again.

You shook your head, blinking back a furious mix of tears and rain. “You’re unbelievable.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, soaked and shaking, your wet footsteps echoing sharply through the sterile hall.

Behind you, Wooin groaned dramatically. “C’mon,” he called after you, completely unfazed by the attention he was drawing. “Don’t be mad. It was a little romantic, right?”

You didn’t stop.

He jogged to catch up, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as he reached for your shoulder. His fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your coat, turning you around.

“I’m so—”

“You always do this!” you snapped, voice slicing through the hallway. You slapped his hand away like it burned, blinking through the angry blur in your eyes. “Always making me worry. Always pulling some stupid stunt because you think it’s funny or dramatic or—whatever!”

He froze, eyes wide as you stepped into his space, jabbing your finger hard into his chest with every word.

“This—this is why I wanted out! This exact bullshit you always pull on me. You don’t take anything seriously—not me, not this, not your life. And I keep pretending it’s okay, I keep giving you the benefit of the doubt like maybe, maybe, you’d grow the hell up—"

Your voice cracked before you could stop it.

“—but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep loving someone who treats my heart like it’s just another game to win.”

Wooin didn’t say anything right away. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t smile, didn’t make a joke. He just stood there, rain dripping from the tips of your hair onto the tile between you, eyes on yours like he was really, finally seeing you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Not performative. Not flippant. Just raw.

You didn’t move.

“I didn’t... I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor. “I knew you wouldn’t come if I just asked. So I panicked. I did something stupid. Again.”

You scoffed bitterly, turning to leave again, but he stepped in front of you.

“No, wait—listen. Please.”

His voice cracked—not loud, not dramatic. Just quiet. Real. The kind of raw that didn’t ask for attention, only understanding.

“I don’t…” he exhaled, dragging a hand through his wet hair, eyes darting like he was looking for the right words and hating that he couldn’t find them fast enough. “I don’t know how to do this. The real kind of love. The kind where someone stays. I’ve never had that. Not once.”

You stayed still, breathing sharp, heart heavy.

“I didn’t grow up around… this,” he continued, vague but heavy. “The talking. The fixing. The staying, even when it’s hard. That stuff always felt strange.”

His voice was unsteady now. Less defensive. Less layered with sarcasm.

“So I guess I kept bracing for it to end. Kept screwing it up before someone else could. Like maybe if I was the one to ruin it, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”

He looked at you fully this time—no walls, no smirk. Just Wooin, stripped of all his usual armor.

“But you didn’t leave,” he said, voice quiet. “You stayed. You cared. You kept showing up, even when I didn’t know what to do with that kind of love.”

You blinked hard, trying to will away the sting in your eyes, but he wasn’t done.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” he said. “I know I make things harder than they have to be. I keep screwing it up—pulling you close just to push you away again. But that’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I care so damn much it terrifies me.”

His voice dropped into a whisper.

“I love you.”

He let it hang there—bare, trembling in the air between you.

“I don’t know how to do this right. I never learned how. But if you just… show me, even a little—I swear I’ll try. I’ll learn. I’ll unlearn everything that taught me this chaos.”

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. The weight of him—the sincerity, the fear, the desperate hope—held you in place.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he said. “Just you. Always you. So if there’s any part of you that still believes in me… please. Let me try again. Let me love you right this time.”

No lollipop. No grin.

Just Wooin—messy, vulnerable, standing in a puddle of his own mistakes, finally opening the part of himself he always kept locked tight.

And for once… he wasn’t running.

You stood there, breath uneven, your soaked clothes clinging to your skin, the hallway suddenly too quiet for how loud your heart was beating.

You should’ve walked away. God, you wanted to.

But your feet didn’t move.

Because the thing was—you still love him. Through every fight, every bad decision, every desperate apology. Through the chaos, through the confusion, through the nights you spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why your heart refused to let go.

And maybe… maybe this time, it wasn’t about him changing overnight. Maybe it wasn’t about forgiveness or promises or fixing every broken thing in one perfect gesture.

Maybe it was just about the part of you that still wanted him. That still hoped—against your better judgment, against your own tired heart—that there was something here worth holding onto.

You blinked slowly, a single tear sliding down your cheek, catching on the corner of your mouth. His eyes tracked it, shoulders tensing like he’d take the weight of it if he could.

You stepped forward—just a little.

“I’m only doing this once,” you whispered, voice thick. “And not for you. For me.”

His breath caught.

“Because I still love you,” you said, quieter now. “And I don’t know what that says about me, but I do.”

Wooin’s lips parted, but you held up a hand.

“I’m not saying this fixes anything. I’m not saying it’ll work. But if you’re really willing to try—then I’ll try, too. One more time.”

A pause.

"Don't make me regret it."

And just like that, the air between you shifted—still heavy, still uncertain, but no longer running.

He didn’t touch you, not yet. Just nodded, eyes wide, chest rising like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to breathe again.

“I won’t,” he said. “I swear. I won’t waste it.”

And then, finally, like gravity snapped back into place—you stepped into him. Letting your head rest against his shoulder, letting your fists finally uncurl against his chest.

Letting yourself have this—for tonight. For now.

Even if it still hurts.

Even if the future was foggy.

MASTERLIST

[moonfang256]

My thoughts about Deltarune, Chapters 3 & 4 (Part 5)

"sigh" Oh man, here we go:

--------

❤️ <( "Hey freak, yeah you little freak!

So, this is the morbid game you want to play, huh? Bad move. Now pardon me, I'm gonna show Susie the kind of "friend" you are."

❤️ <( "Heh, did I hit a nerve?"

❤️ <( "Pff, pathetic."

❤️ <( "Don't think you'll get away from this by closing my escape. I'll find my way idiot and you'll be done for."

❤️ <( Well, as you can see, my attitude toward Kris changed to a slightly more nasty one after the revelation of that phone call.

It was like when Susie thought Lancer had betrayed her in Chapter 1. A feeling that fills you with rage, disappointment and sadness.

If there's one thing I don't like it's when people lie, hide things and pretend to be your friend so, before you even can know it, they may stab you in the back or use you as a tool without care.

This isn't the first time this has happened to me in my life, and seeing this happening again in this videogame, was simply the straw that broke the camel's back.

Guess that was my reward for be nice and caring too much...

❤️ <( As I tried to process my emotions, I got back to the vent to find Kris and face them again, but… I heard piano music...

❤️ <( I decided to stay still and listen everything in silence. At that moment, I became very emotional and cried…

How can someone so messed up can play so beautifully? What drives a good child to go into the depths of the abyss and act in such an awful way?

At that moment, I didn't quite understand because I was still in shock, but it wasn't the time for sentimentality.

❤️ <( I needed to move on.

❤️ <( I continued floating through the vent and saw Asgore talking weird stuff in the bathroom, so I followed him to Carol's room and continued listening to his conversation.

❤️ <( Well, it was obvious he would also know about Carol's secret and the Dark Worlds (having been an ex-cop), although I wouldn't be surprised if this goofy man will go too far to create a Dark World in his "Flower Shop" to prove his point and bring the families together.

Then, what he said that time would make sense:

❤️ <( And if I had to guess, it seems Carol fired him for meddling where he shouldn't and bought his silence at some cost.

"sigh" This old man is living too much in the past and he's going to cause a lot of trouble in the future. I can see it.

Back to the main plot…

❤️ <( I kept going until I reached a basement full of Christmas decorations. From there, I could hear the girls chatting a bit, but it wasn't the time for distractions.

I cut the power to get the girls' attention, but…

❤️ <( I ran into that stupid tree and the angel ornament fell on me, so I ended up in a silly situation...

"sigh" Oh well... "Forgive me, Susie!"

❤️ <( Yep, I deserved that…

❤️ <( "Look Barney, I wasn't planning on touching your tail, but I need you to…! Do you seriously want to hit me with that...?"

❤️ <( Luckily, Noelle picked me up and thought I was just a mouse (I don't want to imagine what she would have done if she had discovered I was something else) "sweats nervously"

--------

Okay, I'm ending this post here.

Next up, get ready to see a silly and sassy confrontation.

[crownmemes]

The Expanse Sentences, Vol. 4

(Sentences from The Expanse (2019-2022). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"If you're here to apologise, I honestly don't give a shit anymore."

"You look like you've discovered something."

"What is it going to take for you to get comfortable with me?"

"I haven't lied to you. Yet."

"In battle, you're not fighting for your country; you're fighting for the people next to you."

"All the optimists I know are dead."

"Look, if there's anything you need to get off your chest, I'm not much help, but I also don't judge."

"Everything you do is corrupt, and I can't stand to be a part of it!"

"Your father is a damaged man. You're never going to be good enough for him."

"I haven't felt fear since I was five years old."

"I wish I could go through life without feeling fear."

"You just can't stop trying to give me advice, can you?"

"If this is another of your teaching moments, I would prefer to bleed out in silence."

"You haven't seen it yet, so it doesn't exist? That's your argument?"

"The war does not end when people put down their guns; it ends when they reconcile. Until then, the war has only paused."

"You were using me tonight, playing some game that I don't understand! It was humiliating!"

"Fuck those people. If they don't see how glorious they are, they don't deserve you."

"Do you like getting shot? Because you were about to!"

"Don't think I won't shoot you if you pull that kind of shit again!"

"So, does this mean we're not fucking anymore?"

"We are witnessing something that human beings have never seen before, and your first instinct is to destroy it?"

"Killing him would be more trouble than it's worth."

"You don't seem like a guy who takes a beating well."

"Some people are fighters, and some are not. You can't know which until the fight happens."

"You know, in a different context, this could be kind of fun."

"This is a waste of my time!"

"I didn't deserve to be saved."

"I sound incompetent! Even I wouldn't vote for me!"

"I don't like to see you like this."

"Fuck the rules; I'm in charge!"

"You promised to hold your temper!"

"I have seen blood spilled my entire life, and I have spilled enough myself to know that the future - our future - cannot be built on violence."

"You wanted me to play this game, so I did. You don't get to be upset with me because I didn't play by your rules."

[jesterjaxx]

writing a fic with DJ x Duncan

How do I write DJ x Duncan??? Idek

Could you give me some advice on their dynamic? I think they're cute but Im having trouble getting it right

Thank you!

LETS GO (oh god this turned into a long post)

So to me i try to keep to the dynamic of Duncan still being an asshole/says rude shit he doesnt mean/ emotionally consipated like a mf but depending on like, if theyre in an established relationship or just close friends and pining those factors are kind of lessened when DJ is around, because theyre rooted a lot in Duncan wanting to control how hes perceived and not wanting to appear soft and weak. But DJ is very soft, and Duncan knows he wont judge him, so he lets his gaurd down around DJ. Varying levels of consciousness about it.

DJs very emotionally open, and Duncan will kind of follow his lead on that. Like Duncan will admit to liking a sappier movie because DJ has already said hes a sucker for the genre or something. And well Duncans still more defensive or dismissive with his words. I think DJ sees through him though and doesnt take it to heart. He sees Duncan like a kicked dog whos gotten used to certain habits keeping him safe.

If theyre like, established i also like to write them with DJ calling him out on his bullshit or just generally being more confident in himself, or Duncan acting like a jerk but stopping and trying again actyally saying what he means because theyre rubbing of on eachother and i think DJ would be good at forcing them to have more open communication. Idk theyre learning, especially Duncan.

If theyre just like pining/crushing I write Duncan being both really down bad and trying to bug/spend time with DJ a lot because hes not great at subtlety and also being self destructive and defensive about it. DJ thinks Duncans endearing and feels special about Duncan being soft around him, he tries to go out of his way to see that side of him. Duncan is inviting himself along to DJs outing to like, a zoo, but DJs already half expected it and has plans to take a detour into the reptile house cuz theres a bunch of hatchlings on display.

Hes a lot more aware of mental health stuff I think and tries to let Duncan talk to him about anything without fear of judgment. Though as this goes on it goes from DJ being a listening ear to them being comfortable enough that DJ can say "No that was your fault i think," and Duncan shrugs but agrees. Hes a bit of a scardy cat (not nearly as much as the show pushed though total drama flanderization when i fucking get you) but gets annoyed when hes seen as just a pushover by the public or his friends and I think Duncan encourages him to be more selfish and to do what he wants just for himself. DJs a bit of a hypocrite cuz he talks alot about open communication and healthy relationships and helps Duncan with it but Duncan has to elbow him and remind him they can do dates oriented about DJ too.

Idk if this is helpful they just are silly with eachother, they tease eachother a lot and they like animals. Duncans trying to get DJ to like spiders. DJs trying to get Duncan to go to therapy.

Oh also theyre physically affectionate as fuck and Duncan likes that DJ can easily just throw him over his shoulder. Hes attracted to strength sue me. I think about their height difference constantly DJ doenst take Duncan threatening him seriously cuz hes literally looking down at him.

[harlowtales]

Jack shows up after ghosting Y/N and her attitude lands her in trouble 😈

18 plus only - mature content

Jack had been trying to get your attention all day. You had a deadline and were running out of time. He was only going to be in town for 2 more days and you were surprised to hear from him after months of ghosting you…well what you thought was ghosting.

It was more like fear. You made it hard for him to be away from you and he didn’t like that feeling so he dealt with it the old fashioned way…GHOST.

But here he was now. Hanging at your place for the last few days which made you fall behind in getting some work done on a very important project. You ate, peed, kissed him, and went back on the computer. That had been the vibe all day and he was over it.

He walked by and casually pulled on your bra-strap and darted away with his signature mischievous giggle.

“Oouuu fuck! Really dude??” You said half laughing/half pissed as you swiftly turned around to scold him. He had been sneaking loving glances at you all day from the couch as he tried to keep quiet and catch up on his own writing, hoping you’d notice but you were too focused.

He tried making you your favourite grilled cheese (the only thing he knew how to make) and rested it quietly by your side. You smiled looking up at him with gratitude and took a huge bite “This is so fucking goooood.” You said much to his satisfaction, but that was 3hrs ago.

He finally gave up after throwing paper he’d crumpled up from writing new verses at you that just bounced off you with only a little acknowledgment and a slight grin without looking at him mesmerized by the screen.

“Sheeesh you’re literally me in the studio. Worse than me.” He said walking over to you and leaning on the corner of your desk. He had been easier to ignore as you were salty he just showed up out of the blue the other day. “Earth to Y/N” he said waving his hand in front of your face.

“Bruh. What part of “busy” do you not get?” You said with exasperation arms folded looking him dead in the eye.

“Whoah what the fuck is up with you?” He asked suddenly feeling your hostility towards him in a big way.

“I should be asking you that.” You shot back

“What? What do you mean? Baby talk to me.” He said concerned. This wasn’t like you.

“I have work to do too you know.” You explained exasperated

“…and I get that so I’ve been quiet” he said confused.

“You pulled by bra strap and ran away like a third grader.” You said rolling your eyes

“I thought it was funny. Trying to take the pressure off that’s all. SORRY.” He said offended.

“You’re sorry about that but not that you disappeared and I see you running around New York with some girl that looks like she showers once a week?” You spat out the words with everything you had been holding in deciding whether to even let him know going MIA bothered you at all.

He looked at you like you had punched him in the gut. He had officially fucked up. Was fucking up majorly.

He walked away and looked out the window at the rainy Seattle afternoon. He normally loved this weather and was completely happy to spend the week inside just snuggling with you watching movies, having those deep convos he craved that so few people could give him. You talked about so many things from the state of the world to why did they cancel that one show you both binged on last time he was in town. He could just listen to you for hours and you him. This tension was eating him alive inside.

“I’m fucking up aren’t I?” He humbly offered coming behind you and swallowing you in a huge hug that made you finally feel seen and heard by him.

“Yeah you are.” You said plainly without hesitation

“Damn. Ok.” He said giggling “Tell you what. I will stop avoiding how hard I’ve fallen for you, and stay in touch a lot more. Like a text every day and a FaceTime bare minimum.” He promised

“Naw.” You said flat out

“What?” He said surprised

“If I agree to bare minimum that’s what I’ll get.” You said pulling away from his embrace and him talking softly in your ear. “It’s ok we’re just too busy for each other I guess. It happens. We’re not bad people” you shrugged nonchalantly which terrified Jack.

He felt a surge of desperation. “Move in with me. In New York. Go back with me. I’ll take care of this place, you won’t have to worry about anything. Pack up and come with me…Please.” He swallowed hard at the tail end of his full on spontaneous begging.

“You’re just saying that.” You responded coldly in disbelief

“Y/N we have to fix this…fix us. I can’t have us like this. I lov….I mean let’s just figure this out ok?” He tried to get through to you his anxiety skyrocketing.

“What was that? You love me? Now that’s HILARIOUS.” You quipped sarcastically. You want some popcorn? I think that new movie is out that Urban was raving about.” You stretched and yawned ready to take a break.

“Ah fuck no. Get up.” Jack ordered

“Excuse you?” You replied aghast at his rude tone

“You heard me. UP.” He challenged

You rose from your chair and looked up at him. Challenge accepted. He wanted a fight he just got one. Jack grinned sinisterly and scooped you up throwing you over his shoulder and gave your bottom a decisive spank. “Put me down!!!” You yelled

“I’ll put you down…” he gave you a soft but firm landing on your bed. Thunder rolled and it began to rain harder. He shut your bedroom door and turned out the lights.

@jackharlow502 @itsyagirljaz

[louve-garoue]

Oh, Oh ! Can I join in the slander :D ? Yes ? Yes !

On the inconsistencies :

Yeah I totally agree. Honestly it got to the point where I sinceraly have a hard time believing that it is actually Tag and not some imposter. I also suspect that the writers did not even bother rewatching F2R to write F2RX. Like that change of name from Pablo to Ramon, honestly I think it was a genuine mistake : his name was pronounced like once, maybe twice, in the serie so they probably assume that he was nameless, gave him a name and didn't bother to check the episodes he was in to make sure (or even check wikipedia which has the info btw grrrrrr).

And for that story with the horse-ridding, yeah again totally agree. I also want to add that if memory serve me right, it was for a speech to give Inès confidence to try rollers again after her failing and for the love of continuity why ? At first when he started his speech I thought he was gonna talk about his time at the Roller Team which would have both served as a way to tell her to not give up plus how the supports of her friends are important (and a nice reference to a very cool episode). And the I had a made-up story about horse-ridding. The disappointement was big 😮‍💨.

And like the horse-ridding one is the most memorable because it's ooc for Tag, but there's a lot of exemple like this. There's someone with crutch that want to play and is getting rejected ? I wonder if Tag is gonna talk about that time were played a match and even goaled a penalty in crutch once. Or if gonna talk about that team that has a captain in a weelcjair and absolutely decimated them because they underestimeted him because of his handicap but of course not. Ok but maybe he's gonna tell Inès about how he didn't know his father until he was 14 when she's ashamed of her own father and tell him she wished hers was a hero like Tag's. But nope he just went for an ultra generic speech (ok I'm in bad faith in this one, it's obviously too personal to say out like that, but still that declaration should have 100% angered him at least). Or that time when Samy wants to sneak to play at night and Tag disagree ? You Damn HYPOCRITE !! The nerve ! The heresy ! He did that on daily basis ! He tried to run away by boat once for god sake ! He broke into a comercial center at night for a match just because he could ! He should be supportive ! This is bullshit ! (Several episodes are like this 😭😭)

And like the fact that Tag is like this , a goodie-two-shoes that's against even disobeiding thevsimplest of the adult rules is typical of the fact that F2RX completely stripped the theme of F2R to make it a show with a morale for kids at the end. And some of them are good and do give goods episode but it just make the episodes without any deep themes or values. Just that kids gotta listen to adults coz adults know best and just try to protect them. Completely putting aside all the kids that do not have such adults in their life like so much characters did in F2R and which the series so great. It also destroy any autonomy the kids in the show might which is just sad when it was a big part of F2R. Plus that goodie mentality led to some really questionable morale. Like I remember an episode used Pablo to tell to children that under an unfair and illegiteme system the best way to resist is to "comply despite it all'' and what the fuck ? First that's an awful message but also how dare they put these words in Pablo's (and Tag's) mouth ?? That's insanely disrespectfull on so many level !

I'm gonna skips the chara design and animation points because that's not really my thing so straight on to the characters now ! I feel like Samy is really unsuited to be a protagonist. He would have been way better suited as a minor antagonist. The white priviligied kid that need to get over himself and grow to become better, but nope he's a protagonist and so the show is the butt between two chair between making him stir trouble for plot while not acknowledging that his behaviour is awful and has bad consequences in real life. Which would have been a no-brainer as a villain. I think he could have had a better devellopement that way too (heck he could still be Tag brother by alliance, that would have added a great twist to their relation).

As for the others ther was a mention of their living situation which mirror the original blues . Luna is the oldest of a familly with a lot of children, Joey is a rich kid with an agenda probably too full for him and whose parent don't pay attention to him as long as he has good grade, Inès is probably meant to be a child of an immigrant with the pressure of success on her shoulder and Samy has a recomposed familly. The problem is that while those facts are mentioned (or not even that in Inès case), they are never exploited, they're never the subject of an episode nor do they have any sort of real consequences in the show. The only one whose problem is actually treated is Greg but his is not familly related (I'm talking about his anxiety btw) so it kind of fall flat overall but hey he's my favorite for a reason : at least they tried.

So yeah overall ? Wasted potential of thoses kids, which is very sad :(

@elmaxlys already made #perfect rant posts about F2RX and I agree 100% with everything they said, but I never got to write my rage down myself and so here are my top grievances with Foot 2 rue Extreme in order of pain :

Disrespecting previous canon :

Tag is a mockery of his previous self. Essentially stripping away most of his personality, they also added super random and really improbable things such as : Having learned horse-riding (WHEN?!), suddenly having learned to play the piano, and MOST importantly not being an exceptionnal football player (HIM NOT DOMINATING THE FIELD WHEN PLAYING WITH THE KIDS IS JUST NOT BELIEVABLE). Tag had enough of a story with 3 seasons and a comic, they didn't need to add all the stupid extra stuff as if they were trying to invent him a personality (#his room being full of random shit that has no reference to the previous stuff).

He only met his father when he was 14.... The original story made a point of digging into serious themes and the emotional struggle of the characters, as football gave the catharsis that helped them get through it. There is NO WAY that at 17, Tag's issues have all disappeared and he is now a 100% healthy confident and nurturing adult.

Pablo's name is changed to Ramon, and his whole story seems to have disappeared. His relationship with Tag is as if he'd been around his whole life. The fact that he theoretically has been captured and IMPRISONED is shown nowhere.

They basically didn't want to bother with Foot2Rue and the story it had told, so why add the previous characters at all?

Superficial themes and story :

Foot 2 rue was a kid's show about playing football in the street, right?

WRONG.

It's a story about growing up in an unfair, chaotic society and football helping them bond and find hope.

The whole point is that this childhood pass-time was their resilience against everything around them ;

- where they were unequal in their life, on the playing field everyone was the same, had the same opportunities and rules,

-when they were alone in life, on the playing field they had a family,

-and when their life showed cruelty and malevolence, the game taught them empathy, understanding and respect.

THAT was the "dream" of street football, that's why they call it a dream throughout most of the original show.

The point of the world championship wasn't about winning or being the "coolest" or most athletic player, it was about bringing this shared "dream" to unite all the kids growing up in this world.

Extreme Football has gone completely beside this point.

The only motivation for the team is winning and looking cool. What makes a great player to them is just their athletic ability. They go through regular childhood troubles that have no deeper meaning or demonstration of the world and the society they live in. (and the resolutions for these are pretty shallow and clumsy). They seem to live in a weird utopian/futuristic city that is super polished, and so NO real-world issues can be adressed.

Basically the show is JUST a kid's show about playing football... how sad.

The animation and chara design :

I am not an anti-CGI, only traditional 2D purist. I was pretty excited the new adaptation was going to be CGI, as I had also a good memory of the early CGI in kids shows like code Lyoko, and Galactic football.

but DAMN does it look bad.

The main characters design is bland, but that's ok for the main characters, and the other characters are pretty much as much caricatures as the original Street football characters were, but the animation is INCONSISTENT, the lighting/shading seems unequal from one episode to the next, the environment is BORING and polished to a point where it just looks extremely fake.

I already went on a bit about what they did to Tag, but damn the redesign just doesn't work.... once again, the direction for the character just seems VERY random, as Tag has never been into fashion why the hell would he start wearing a bandana, and live with one side of his joggings rolled up? and like, why would his face become ROUNDER with age?

(This goes the same way for Eloise whose appearance in the last episode both made me a little happy but also hurt my eyes)

The new characters/main characters :

As the world and the narrative doesn't give them much to work with, obviously it is hard to be engaged and learn to like them.

Obviously the main problem is Samy, whose hurtful words/actions are not grounded in any deep story making him just a petty brat. Often his harmful behavior is not challenged, especially with the way he treats Tag which drives me nuts.

The worst part is that there is POTENTIAL for a deep dynamic that could have made for a better story that adresses re-building broken families but... No. He is a brat but in a vacuum so it doesn't evolve into an interesting arc or even make sense really.

(They could have made an interesting parallel between him dealing with his parent's separating and having to accept a new unwanted family member and Tag dealing with the realities of family that he never got to experience, and integrating into a family life that he WANTED but doesn't know. Also there could have been references to Tag's memories of "Pti Dragon"....)

I could go on for longer but this post would never end....