#i *try* to make sure no one's seeing anything offensive when i wear clothes but if you do? not on me.. i tried

[somedaytakethetime]

I'm procrastinating my life and I feel like mush so.. I'm back to my papyrus scrolls of text. Today? The Sewing Beast™

And that is to say: Inspiration Images - The Actual Sewing Time! Let's get cracking and break it down.

I was up until like 2am last night (I have horrible sleeping habits lately) and I came across a seamstress that has the perfect style for what I'm going for currently in my life. And I mean in terms of dresses that is. I've figured out that I no longer care so much if I think I look fat in clothes, because the thing is: I'm actually relatively skinny. I'm not supermodel levels of thin, my thighs definitely rub together and I'm meatier on my bottom half but I'm slender still. I have a perfectly healthy weight now, after a few years of... not so great "eating" habits and being not-so-healthy-weighted let's put it in that softer way. I just feel fat. Due to previously mentioned reasons. So, the way I look in my own head likely doesn't actually match the way I look externally. And that's hard to move past and let go of. I would like to look a certain way, but realistically I'll never manage to sustain that, I tried and it's just not possible for me. And with that that's all I'll touch on that subject, so refocusing on the problem at hand: I sort of strongly dislike the look of me in the mirror BUT you know what I dislike even more? BEING UNCOMFORTABLE! I can't stand feeling like I can't breathe when I'm wearing something, or feeling like I'm pinched and pulled tight everywhere. Which has led me to this current approach for more looser fitted clothing. My plan still includes some more "fitted" dresses but my definition of fitted has changed massively lately. Let's break that down.

I need some of this style of looser fitted smock/babydoll type of dress:

I feel like this sort of style will be so comfortable in the clammy days of summer.

My new definition of tighter fit is this:

I'm not a huge fan of the longer sleeves on the wrap dress and the buttoned dress, but I could easily change that. As for something that I like the look of but is a bit more whimsical (so it still fits my personality):

Longer dresses (and skirts) that are flowy and have slits because I think that would balance out how short and stumpy I am. Rompers and dungarees because... girl.. I love a romper and a dungaree okay?? And granny prints. Still want to cosplay your nan's couch, yes I do. (all the photos above belong to Janelle at Rosery Apparel)

The overall look for daily wear dresses would be: comfortable, simple cuts and easy, quick makes (I'm making everything myself so.. need to take in consideration my own laziness). Smock dresses, wrap dresses, and sort of 90s flower child inspiration going into it.

Now let's get into skirts because those are super simple: mini pencil skirts and mini a-line skirts. That's it. That's my new aesthetic. For a woman that hasn't shown a knee to the general public in nearly 8 years? This is ground breaking. Let's look at images because I'm visual.

(links: image 1 and 3 are ill gotten from Pinterest, image 2 belongs to Maja, image 4 belongs to Stephanie, image 6 ill gotten from Pinterest, and image 5 belongs to Stacie)

Easy peasy, super simple, quick to make. I own a million skirts that need re-fitting. Will have to get to that soon. Send help.

Also to add a touch of fancy, because this is my idea of holiday attire:

(all pilfered from the internet, no sources for these)

Wide legged trousers, a-line flowy skirts, sparkly or silky, sweaters on top. That's the whole idea and the whole look.

As for trousers I'm going simple: high waisted, straight cut or wide legged. I feel better if I have breathing room in my clothes, I feel less like a sausage in a too tight casing. So think:

Also letting the kids influence me and throwing it back to the 2000s when I used to wear:

The Cargo Pant™

I like pockets as a style choice and not so much as a practicality choice, what can I say? yes, I know that cargo pants were "appropriated" from men's workwear, especially factory workers and mechanics that needed all those pockets

I think denim I need very little of. I don't like how denim feels, it always feels so uncomfortably stiff to me. But that could just be because I'm poor so the quality of the denim I've worn over the years might be lacking or something, I have no clue. Linen and cotton wrinkle like hell, oui, but they make such comfortable light clothes.. muy needed in my wardrobe. Other features that my trousers might need: elasticated waists. The front would look totally normally but if maybe I add elastic at the back portion then maybe when I eat they won't be too tight over my stomach. That's one of the bothers that I find with my clothes: I don't like being pinched over my stomach area (which fun fact sits essentially above the natural waist level, and on my body it always feels like it's sitting at actual waist level) when I'm eating or when I've just finished eating.

Looking at all of this that seems about it. I'd add a few fun elements with overalls and rompers because I like one full outfit of pants (a dress is a full outfit, but when it comes to pants you always need a layer on top or you're bazooms out in public.. the fix? Rompers. The downside? Bazooms out when you use the toilet..). I also love the idea of some skorts... now, I know I'm old, but there's nothing that delights my heart more than seeming to be wearing a skirt and BAM! they're secret shorts (or pants, depending on how long you make them) plus as someone that tends to sprawl out when she sits OR sit her ass down anywhere in public if I get too tired or bored (yes, I'm 5 years old why do you ask?) I think a secret short or pant is the perfect solution to not flash my Tweety Bird to the world.. 🥴🥴

[pucksandpower]

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[samgelina-jolie]

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

--

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

--

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

--

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

--

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

--

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

--

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

[iznsfw]

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

-

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit." 

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all. 

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?" 

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through." 

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge. 

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

-

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere. 

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk),  but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store. 

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks. 

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public. 

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer." 

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining. 

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask. 

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?" 

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means. 

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs. 

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one. 

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience. 

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself. 

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

-

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her. 

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open. 

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?" 

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly. 

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you? 

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!" 

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer. 

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other. 

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes. 

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?" 

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to. 

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay." 

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must),  you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm. 

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow. 

"This… this is your house?" 

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping.  "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding. 

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels. 

-

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired. 

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it. 

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table. 

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor. 

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said. 

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too. 

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight. 

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical. 

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.” 

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more? 

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry.  It’s just not who she is. 

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs. 

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out. 

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.” 

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside. 

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

 You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy. 

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous? 

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that. 

-

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

[stellamancer]

this is all @shotorus's fault.

You don't mean to stare, really, you don't.

Especially when you are well, well aware that it's what Gojo wants. You know better than anyone that if there's anything that he enjoys it is the knowledge that your eyes, your attention, your focus is on him. He covets it, revels in it, luxuriates in it like it is his god-given right.

But it's not.

And you have every intent of reminding him of that fact.

Which is why you don't mean to stare and, honestly, you don't even know how it happened; one second, you were looking over your phone, and the next your eyes were glued to his backside, watching— staring as he removed his shirt.

For three seconds, your gaze is filled with the view of the expanse of the smooth skin that makes up his backside. He's more muscular than you thought, and why wouldn't he be? You know as well the next person that he's a skilled martial artist so it makes sense— but there's a difference between knowing and seeing. Gojo is always wearing loose fitting shirts and oversized jackets and with a technique that can destroy a curse without even lifting a finger, it's easy, so, so easy to just think he's just lankly limbs and flat body underneath all those clothes. The t-shirt he's pulling off shows just a peek of his toned biceps and somehow the room suddenly feels a few degrees hotter.

"Like what you see?"

Gojo's playful and amused voice yanks you back to reality, your blood feeling like it's on fire at the sound. You rip your gaze from him and to make sure that your eyes, which feel like they may have a mind of their own, don't try to sneak another few eyefuls of the image of his body, you turn your head away from him.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, trying to play it off.

He chuckles. "Caught ya staring, didn't I?"

"I wasn't staring," you lie, though if there is anything else you know about Gojo, it's that he loves only hearing what he wants to hear.

"You were so staring," he says. "Not that I can really blame you..."

Gojo laughs as you make a disgusted sound. "Why are you even changing in the teacher's lounge anyway? Don't you have your own personal office?"

"I don't see the problem here... we're both adults, aren't we?" he counters, completely and totally avoiding your question. You don't really need him to answer actually; you know the truth is that he just wanted you to look, to stare at him and damn him and damn you too because you both know he got exactly what he wanted.

"Do you have any sense of shame?" you ask, scowling.

You hear the sound of rustling fabric— Gojo putting on another shirt, mingling with the sound of Gojo snickering, entertained as he always seems to be whenever he's with you. "That requires having something to be ashamed of, you know."

You roll your eyes. "You have plenty to be ashamed of."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Your absolutely terrible and insufferable personality."

Gojo is silent. He can't argue with you on that one and you both know it. You think maybe you might have one-upped him this time, but then he laughs. "Sure, but you weren't staring at my personality, now were you?"

Now you're the speechless one, the desire to knock some sense into Gojo taking the place of any verbal response.

He must be done getting dressed because you hear him move, circling around you and forcing himself into your field of vision. Gojo’s changed into a different shirt, a dress shirt, with the top unbutton left undone, cursing you with an eyeful of his collarbone. The blindfold is gone too, those hauntingly blue eyes of him out in full force. You have no doubt that this fucker is doing this all on purpose. He grins at you, looking offensively smug, victorious even.

"...and good thing I can't,” you finally retort, feeling vicious at the sight of him, “because even a peek of that and I think I'd go permanently blind."

[pathetic-sapphic]

hi i loovveeddd your dom!abby headcanons :3 especially the fact that you added that abby would love a softer/chubby girlfriend!!! is there any chance that you could write more about abby’s love for her plus size very subby gf? <3 both sfw and nsfw would be much appreciated thank uuu

Abby with a Plus Size S/O

SFW

Okay so, as I mentioned here, Abby tends to have a preference for chubby and fat girls. Of course, she loves you for more than just your looks but your body looked so delectable to her, she always wanted you to feel sexy and worshipped.

Is physically unable to keep her hands of off you whenever you're at an arm's length. Likes standing behind you, protectively and possessively keeping her arms wound around your waist. Likes to tease you by slapping your ass or groping your tits in public when no one's looking. Snickers when you turn to her with a beet red face.

When you wear clothes that hug your curves, be it sexy or cute clothes, Abby is a goner. Literally cannot keep her eyes off of you, sometimes you swear you can see a bit of drool escaping the corner of her lips as you catch her staring at you.

I think that she's an ass girl, although she definitely cannot complain if you got fat tits or thighs. She just loves the way your pants fit your pretty butt and is always smacking, pinching or groping it as she passes by you. She's a grabber for sure. Dies and goes to heaven if you wear a miniskirt.

Sit on her lap, please. She loves the feeling of your warmth and softness on top of her, don't be afraid of putting your whole weight on her, she loves it. I mean, have you seen those muscles? Don't you dare to even think that you might be too heavy for her because she will take offense.

Your thighs are her favorite stress balls (next to your tits). She's always kneading them with her rough hands whenever you're sitting next to her. Sometimes her hand ventures a bit too far, but we'll be saving that for later.

Abby is such a sweetheart if you're ever feeling insecure, so so loving and gentle with you. Has no issue with reassuring you just how gorgeous and amazing you are to her, as many times as you need her to. Feels so proud of you when she sees you being confident and with the way she treats you, it's definitely not hard to learn to feel attractive thanks to her constant praise and compliments.

NSFW

Abby is shy to admit it, but she has a bit of a stocking kink. Seeing the way thigh highs look on you has her mind reeling. Not to mention if you add garter belts to the mix, you will be unable to walk for days once she sees you like this.

Is always gripping your soft hips whenever she's ramming her strap into you. It's hard to feel self-conscious about your hip dips when they're decorated with the bruises your loving girlfriend left the night before.

Please sit on her face. She wants you to suffocate her with your thick thighs and fat pussy. Abby is a fat pussy enthusiast, the sounds she makes as she eats you out are downright sinful. She makes you feel as if you're some delicious pastry, if her slurping and moans are anything to go by. And boy is she a messy eater!

Another good way to go is by being suffocated by your tits. Big or small, round or saggy, she doesn't care. Abby loves your boobs, calls them 'her girls' and you can bet she'll plunge her face in-between them whenever you're riding her.

Really wants to try shibari with you. She stumbled upon images of that sort one day and just couldn't get the mental picture of your soft curves being hugged by the ropes out of her head. The way you'd be bound and completely dependent on her mercy makes Abby go feral (disrespectfully). Puts on her best puppy eyes when asking you if you'd be interested, knowing that you can't say no to those.

Always makes sure to pay some extra attention to any stretch marks or scars that she might find while worshipping your body. They're what makes you you and she wants you to know just how much she adores your whole body and soul.

Her favorite position is doggy style and cowgirl. She loves doggy because it allows her to get a good view of your pretty ass, and I already mentioned before how much she adores it. Likes to smack it lightly (or roughly if that's what you're into) and sometimes even leaves bite marks on your cheeks. Cowgirl is perfect because she gets to sit back and enjoy the image of her beautiful girlfriend riding her. The way your tummy and boobs jiggle as you bounce up and down on her strap is enough to make Abby cum on the spot.

Overall, a very loving and caring girlfriend, Abby always makes sure to worship and take good care of you, never failing to make you feel loved, attractive and happy.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hii idk if your request are open and if you write polly but could you write a sugawara x daichi x asahi x reader

Where the reader moves from their home country and to Japan and it’s how they meet the three their are a first and it’s how they end up together idk if that makes sense sorry :)

AHHHH YES! There is not nearly enough daisugasahi x reader fics and its a crime against humanity. I will gladly fix that though so I hope you enjoy!

Poly! Daichi, Asahi, and Suga with a foreign reader

Warnings: none

Gn! reader

(The country reader comes from is not named so anyone can read this)

-Moving from your home country to Japan was certainly a nerve wracking experience, especially since you’d be attending your last year of grade school amongst new people in an unfamiliar place, in a language you aren’t proficient in. After a few weeks of loneliness you decide that you won’t sit still and be a loner the whole school year.

-You thought that getting involved in something, a club, and team, anything with other people might help you make a couple friends might be good for you, and you heard a pretty cute guy in your bio class talk about how the men’s volleyball team could use a second manager, so you decide to apply for the position

-When you go into the gym to meet the team for the first time, you’re immediately bombarded by two very eager second years and and a short red headed first year who were very curious as to who you were (the school doesn’t get students from other countries often so they were curious about you)

-Suga takes pity on you and puts the team to practice while you, Daichi, Kiyoko, Ukai and Takeda go over your new duties as a manager with you, and you eventually start your time as Karasunos manager

-The first few weeks are pretty eventful for you, you’re just getting to know the ropes of the job and also getting to know everybody on the team. It doesn’t help that there was some drama between some of the team members and the former team ace (or the fact that after it was all said and done he joined the team again), and it certainly didn’t help that you had to train another new manger when your still new yourself (you don’t blame Yachi though, it’s not her fault, and besides, she’s a very sweet kid).

-It was hard adjusting to the club environment at first, but Kiyoko made sure to introduce you properly to everyone, which is how you ended up talking to the 3rd years more. As much as you both love the 1st and 2nd year students, you need to make friends in your own grade

-Kiyoko begins a habit of starting hangouts for just the 3rd years, nothing big, just a few hours hanging out at a cafe or someone’s house. That’s primarily how you got to know the three third year boys, through these hangouts. It’s a great opportunity to get to know each other better in a relaxed setting

- I imagine the three were already together before they met you, so they’re all used to a polyamorous relationship by the time you came along. They never really thought that they would want to add another to their group, but then again, they didn’t know they would meet you

-Asahi probably fell first, the poor guy wears his heart on his sleeve so it’s pretty easy for him to fall for you. Suga and Daichi could see how enamored by you Asahi was, and after a little time you captured their hearts too.

-They all want to know more about your home country and culture, but no one asks more questions than Suga. He wants to know everything there is to know about your culture, your home, what living in your native country was like, what customs you have, what holidays you celebrate, everything! He’s a naturally curious guy and the other two are either too scared that they’ll bother you or worried they’ll ask something offensive

-Asahi does muster up the courage to ask you about any cultural clothing you might have, and if you’d say it’s ok to, he’d be more than happy to try and see if he can sew it himself. I can imagine him gifting you a handmade outfit if he manages to get the hang of making it for your birthday or some other holiday

-After awhile it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that the trio is hardcore pining after you, it’s a wonder you don’t see it yourself! Sugar’s always trying to get your attention (much to the embarrassment of his boyfriends) Asahi’s stutter has magically appeared once again, and Daichi goes red any time you’re in close proximity to him. Honestly the whole teams just begging for them to ask you out at this point, it’s getting painful to watch

-The three have no idea how to ask you out, or if you’re even into poly relationships, so they settle for asking you to meet them at one of their houses so they can speak to you privately

-Daichi takes the lead, explaining to you how they’ve been in love with you for awhile and that they would really love to date you, but they all understand if you don’t like them or if you aren’t comfortable being in a poly relationship. They all kind of expect you to say no, simply because their relationship is very much outside the norm, but there’s still a little hope inside each of them that you’ll say yes

-When you do say yes, everyone is over the moon. Asahi nearly starts sobbing from joy and relief (he totally thought you were going to reject them), Suga practically tackles you in a hug, and Daichi let’s put a huge sigh of relief before prying Suga off of you. Prepare for a long night of cuddles because now that the boys have you, they’re determined to spend as much time with you as possible

[jellyclogs]

Shanks x reader: Laundry

Trigger warnings: I can't really think of any

Word count: 3k

Fluff, shanks and y/n are cute

Shanks could not take his eyes off of (y/n). It wasn't like she had done anything special today. She was just being her normal self, wearing her normal clothes. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Even though her top wasn't tighter than normal he could swear her chest looked bigger, and did those shorts make her ass look better? (Y/n) was always beautiful to him. She wasn't the kind of beautiful that would make her a supermodel but she was beautiful. Shanks found her beauty was even more striking because it was real. Most days he could just pretend not to notice. But on days like today, Shanks just couldn't make his mind ignore it.

(Y/n) was doing the crew's laundry, this week was her turn. She had already washed it and now was hanging it to dry. She hummed along to a sound dial playing some Soul King, her hips swaying along. Shanks always loved a chance to see her sweet domestic side. Not that he minded seeing her be ruff and rowdy but seeing her like this scratched an itch in his brain like nothing else could.

(Y/n) was the crew's animal expert. Shanks had not understood when he first recruited her what that really meant. What it meant was she was an animal whisper. She could understand animals like no one else he'd ever met. It was unreal to watch her work. She could silently communicate with them. You leave her in a room with a wild animal and within two hours it's in her lap wanting to be pet. 

"You know I can feel you staring?" (Y/n) turned to Shanks one of his shirts in her hands. She reached over and grabbed some clothespins out of a tiny little basket. She pined the shirt up, with a smile on her lips.

"It's not my fault you look so nice," Shanks smirked at her. He had been wondering how long shed let him get away with his staring.

"Is there something I can do for you, Captain?" Her voice had a hint of amusement to it and Shanks could see a smile on her pretty lips.

"No, just enjoying the view." Shanks gave her a devilish grin," I've got to say it is quite the view." His eyes did not leave her. In moments like this, it was easy to forget how adept she was with a set of daggers. It was easy to imagine her as a girl from a small island, that he was slowly but surely convincing her to be his. 

(Y/n) rolled her eyes turning her back to him "So are you going to just stand there and watch me?" She grabbed the next piece of laundry and began to hang it up. Her hips still swaying to the music.

"Have something else for me to do?" Shanks quirked his brow, still smiling.

"You could always help me," (y/n) offered.

"Are you trying to push your work off on your captain?" Shanks gasped in mock offense. His hand came to rest on his chest over his heart, “Your captain does not appreciate it.”

"So you talk about yourself in the third person now?" (Y/n) gave Shanks a funny look over her shoulder. “Captin it's not even noon lay off the saki.”

Shanks bit his lip and then laughed. Their gose (y/n)'s silver tongue. He's always loved how quick-witted she was. Then there was the look she gave him. That was damned adorable. He could feel the smile growing on his lips, "I'll take that as a, 'yes I'm trying to make you do my work for me captain', that's not very nice (y/n)." Shanks shook his head teasingly.

"Oh feel free to just sit and watch me, but if you happen to get bored I wouldn't mind the hand." (Y/n) huffed, Finishing pinning up a sheet. Her back was still to shanks, but he could feel that she rolled her eyes at him.

Shanks thought about it for a long moment before standing up and walking over to help her, “Well I guess since there is nothing else for me to do I might as well help you.” Shanks looked at the basket of laundry she was pulling from and saw it was mostly empty.

“Only if you really feel like it captain.” (y/n) shot him a sweet little smile, “I was mostly teasing you anyways,” she said carelessly.

Shanks wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, “You're so mean to your captain (y/n).” Shanks tsked, “What on earth am I going to do with you?”

Mel rolled her eyes. She was used to shanks being cuddly. She had hated it when she first joined the crew but now she didn't mind. Not that she would tell her captain but there were few places she felt safer than in his arm(s), “We both know you’re being over dramatic.” (y/n) patted Shanks’ cheek.

Shanks took a deep breath and soaked in the feeling of just holding the beautiful woman. Holding her like this was almost torturous. He would never push his luck but dam it he wanted to feel more of her, “I am allowed to be overdramatic.” his voice had dropped an octave, “And we both know that you like it when I am.”

(y/n) felt a chill run down her spine. There were many things about Shanks that drove her crazy but his voice was at the top of that list. She had a feeling, Shanks knew just what he did to her. She was never sure if he liked her or just enjoyed seeing her squirm. “How is this helping me?” her voice was a little higher than normal.

Shanks smirked, “Oh I changed my mind,” he could feel her heart racing under his touch, “I'm gonna be a hindrance to you instead.”

(y/n) let out a soft laugh, “Now you're being the mean one.” She wriggled out of his grasp and grabbed the next sheet from the basket.

Shanks laughed himself grabbing the second to last sheet from the basket, “Ok fine ill help.”

“Well thank you, captain,” (y/n) handed him two clothespins before grabbing two for herself.

“So is this the last load?” Shanks asked before holding the clothespin between his lips and tossing the sheet over the line. He quickly pined the sheet in place.

“Yep, it's the last load.” (y/n) responded finishing hanging up the sheet in her hands and then grabbing the last one out of the basket.

“For someone begging for help, you didn't need it much.” Shanks cooed with a teasing smile.

“Maby it was just bugging me that you were silently sitting there and staring at me.” (y/n) scratched the back of her head.

“And like I told you it isn't my fault you’re so nice to look at.” shanks shot her a cocky smirk.

(y/n) thought about her next words for a bit longer than their playful conversion called for. She sighed and then asked, “Do you flirt with me because you like me or just because it's something to do?” She had wanted to ask him the question for a while now.

Shanks froze, he hadn’t expected to hear her ask a question like this. He stared into her (e/c) eyes for a moment, “I flirt with you because you are a strong, quick-witted, and beautiful woman.” he reached out and grabbed her hand, “It does help pass the time but I do it because I like you.” his thumb brushed along the back of her hand. “Do you flirt back because you like me?” he asked in a teasing but sweet voice.

(y/n) looked into Shanks’s worm-brown eyes before smiling, “Oh I like you, captain,” she purred suddenly confident. She thought about it for a moment before grabbing his collar and pulling him in for a kiss.

Shanks did not hesitate to kiss her back. He leaned down to meet her lips his hand letting go of hers as his arm snaked around her waist again. This was definitely a good outcome for him. He was smiling into the kiss. It was a soft and sweet kiss.

The two of them had been playfully flirting for months. Shanks hadn't pushed it passed flirting because it would have felt wrong. He hadn't wanted to force her into a relationship if she didn't want to. He didn't want her to feel like just because he was the captain she had to be with him.

After a long moment (y/n) pulled away. She leaned her head against Shanks’s chest. All her confidence was gone. She could feel herself blushing. The animal whisperer had very little experience with men. She was a blushing virgin and was suddenly insecure about it. She knew Shanks was a bit of a ladies' man. She knew he was experienced. Her mind began to spiral, wondering if he'd still like her knowing how inexperienced she was “Sorry if that was too forward.” (y/n) mumbled.

Shanks couldn't stop smiling, “To forward?” he hummed. He picked her up cradling her in the crook of his elbow, “You really do act like a proper damsel sometimes.” he laughed resting his forehead against hers, “But no you weren't too forward.” he was enjoying the adorable flushed look she had on her face. She was a truly beautiful woman.

“Hay (y/n) you hungry?” Lucky Roux called into the mess of clotheslines and clean clothes. 

(y/n) quickly slipped out of Shanks’s grasp before calling back, “That depends, what's for lunch?” She was a little glad to have an excuse to run and hide from Shanks. She needed a moment to regain her composure before she interacted with Shanks again. She flipped the sound dial off before she quickly headed towards Lucky Roux trying hard to calm the blush on her face.

Lucky Roux rolled his eyes, “You are such a picky eater.” he laughed a smile spreading on his face.

“Yeah, I am,”  (y/n) emerged from the maze of hanging clothes. “So what's for lunch?”

“Well, I kept it simple, just some sandwiches,” Lucky Roux could see the flush of the girl's cheeks and smiled harder. He wasn't going to ask why she was blushing because he had a feeling why. He could spot the top of Shanks’s head from the same direction the (h/c) haired girl had come from.

######

(y/n) spent the rest of the day avoiding Shanks. She felt like a flustered preteen girl every time she thought of him. She knew the rest of the crew could tell she was avoiding him. She figured she would explain it later. If it bugged anyone they hadn't said anything.

She had eaten lunch with Lucky Roux. The man had been giving her a knowing smile the whole time. Clearly, he understood what had happened. She was glad he hadn't pressed for details.

It had been a couple of hours since lunch. (y/n) had been hiding in her room trying to get a grip on her feelings. She decided she should go see if the laundry was dry. She was an adult woman and had responsibilities she needed to attend to. She couldn't spend all day being a flustered little girl.

(y/n) slipped out of her room. Her bare feet made almost no noise on the wooden floorboards of the ship. The sun was setting as she got to the deck. She could tell the clothes were dry just by looking at them.

She began to pull the laundry down and sort it. Each crew member labeled their clothes by writing their names on the tags just to make it easier to sort. She checked the tags of each piece of clothing before tossing it into each respective crew member's basket. She didn't bother to fold the clothes, however, she did fold the sheets and bedding.

“So you finally came out of your room?” a slightly gruff voice teased as the smell of cigarette smoke came to invade (y/n)’s nose

“Beckmen put that out,” Mel spun to glare at Shanks’s right-hand man, Benn Beckmen, “Do not make all of the clean laundry smell like cigarettes… again” 

Beckmen laughed, “Ok jeez (y/n) I'll put it out.” he dropped his cigarette and squished it under his foot, “So what did Shanks do?”

“He didn't do anything wrong I promise.” (y/n) handed Beckmen his basket full of clean clothes. Beckmen was Shanks's leash. He made it his role to keep Shanks from doing things the crew would regret. 

“So then, why were you being a shut-in?” Beckman pressed. He knew both Shanks and (y/n) well enough that he could tell that something had happened between them. (y/n) wasn't the only one acting weird, Shanks had been mopey since lunch.

“Well Mom if you have to know,” (y/n) threw her hands up in surrender. She hoped the nickname would get under his skin. “We kissed.” 

Beckmen shook his head and rolled his eyes, “Why did that make you hide in your room.” he didn't mind the nickname, especially since it was (y/n) calling him it. What big strong man didn't like to be called a demeaning nickname by a pretty girl?

(y/n)’s face flushed, “Because I'm a dumb girl who doesn't know what to do now.” She paused before adding, “That's not me asking you for advice it's me answering your question.”

Beckmen wasn't dumb he had seen the way the (h/c) haired girl acted around Shanks. The girl liked the redhead. “Did the kiss not go well?” Beckmen asked her softly.

“I think it went good, It’s just,” (y/n) wasn't sure how to explain her concerns, “I have absolutely no experience. I don't want Shanks to be disappointed.” She winced at her own words hoping she didn't sound too pathetic.

“You have no clue how men think sweetheart.” Beckman chuckled. “Shanks doesn't care what experience you have.” he decided not to tell her that Shanks would probably be thrilled to be her first.

“So I'm just overthinking things?” (y/n) asked. 

“Yes, you are,” Beckmen rustled her hair. The whole crew knew (y/n) was a bit on the innocent side. They didn't know much about her past however they had the idea she had been fairly sheltered from people. She had little cues that let them know she hadn't socialized much as a kid.

“Thank you Beckmen,” (y/n) gave the crew mom a hug.

“No problem,” Beckmen hugged her back before letting her go and picking up his laundry basket. “Go talk to Shanks when you get a chance,” he said as he walked away. His job was done, the issue could work itself out now.

######

(y/n) had dropped everyone else's laundry off to them, and now she was just standing in front of Shanks’s door holding his laundry basket. She had realized how her reaction must have seemed to him. She felt bad and wanted to apologize to him but was having a hard time working up the courage to knock on his door.

She knew she couldn't spend the whole night awkwardly standing in front of the captain's door. She closed her eyes and counted to three before knocking on the door. She had to do this.

“Come on in,” Shanks called through the door.

(y/n) balanced the laundry basket against her hip and opened the door before stepping in, “I'm sorry for avoiding you.” she said softly. It would be best to just rip the bandaid off.

Shanks looked up at her, he was sitting at his desk, “Don't be,” he gave the girl a reassuring smile, “So was it just too much for you? Did you relize you didn't actually like me like you thought? And if that's it that's fine don't sweat it. It's perfectly fine if you don’t like me” shanks did like the woman but at the end of the day he’d rather be friends than nothing at all.

“Oh no it's not like that.” (y/n) set the basket down, “I was just,” she sighed, “please don't laugh but I have absolutely no experience with relationships and I didn't know what to do. I know you are someone” (y/n) thought for a moment on how to say it, “with a lot of experience and not usually interested in a monogamous relationship and I wasn't ready to have the conversation of what we are now or if our relationship had changed.”

Shanks silently stared at (y/n) for a long moment, “That has to be the nicest way I have ever been called a man whore.” shanks grinned at (y/n) hoping that cracking a joke would help ease the tension.

(y/n)’s blush grew, “I didn't mean it like that.” She frantically tried to correct herself.

“You’re not wrong, I usually don't go for monogamy but most of the people I'm getting with arnt on my ship. There is usually a mutual understanding that it's just a one-night stand when I'm hooking up with someone. But that's not what I want with you.” He stood up and walked over to (y/n).

(y/n) fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “What do you want with me?” she asked her heart racing again.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” Shanks reached out and set his hand on her cheek. He really did mean it. (y/n) was a beautiful, intelligent, sweet, and capable woman. If he would settle down for anyone it was her.

“I want to be your girlfriend,” (y/n) leaned into Shanks’s touch. She liked the feeling of him touching her. She wanted to no longer hide from that.

Shanks stepped in close to her, wrapping his arm around her waist, “Well then you’re my girlfriend.” his voice was inching closer to the deep husky tone that drove (y/n) crazy.

(y/n) smiled wrapping her arms around his neck, “I'm your girlfriend,” she purred smiling ear to ear.

[the-batcomputer-project]

Batfamily (and other) Headcanons that will be canon in my DC timeline:

-Dick is Pansexual. Show me this man in romantic relationships with more than just woman. I also feel like he has potential to be a sex positive icon which I feel is important. Sex portrayed as something that can be fun and casual, not explicitly reserved for romantic partners and situations.

(edited to rephrase and remove offensive language towards the pan community)

-Jason is Asexual. Get some ace representation but also give him some healthy romantic relationships where sex is not the center or a necessity. (I’m partial to Jason/Roy but to each their own)

-Jon Kent is dyslexic. Insert Percy Jackson reference about his brain being wired for kryptonian, but no, the dyslexia comes from Lois.

-Jason was absolutely theater kid before his death who managed to get the lead role almost every time, and somehow maintained a healthy schedule of theater rehearsals, good grades, and patrols.

-building off of the last one, Jason is Bruce’s favorite allowing him to get away with pretty much anything, but no one notices this because Jason is convinced Bruce hates him, and everyone else (understandably) believes Cass is the favorite.

-Cass took up gardening after watching Alfred tend to the rose bushes out front, and is now responsible for the very impressive garden on the Wayne Estate. She loves being to create and nurture life instead of kill, like the was born and raised to. Jason also taught her the language of flowers and she has little flowerbeds for each member of the family. Only Jason knows what they mean (also Alfred but he knows everything)

-Tim isn’t a caffeine addict, but he does have severe insomnia and ADHD. Because of that, caffeine typically has the opposite effect on him, hence why he always seems to be drinking a cup. Either for the placebo effect to stay up and finish a case, or to make him tired enough to fall asleep.

-Damian struggles to connect with people and express gratitude, appreciation, and love. He asked Cass about her garden one day and very intently sat and listened while she taught him about the language of flowers. Each family member woke up the next morning to a drawing of a bouquet of flowers pinned to the door with a knife (Jason has his framed in a safehouse he is fairly sure none of his family knows about)

-The batcave has a secret vault of “bad ideas” which was started by Dick as a child with the original Robin suit Bruce designed (it had pants) along with videos of Dick wearing said costume and falling off of gymnastics bars. (Think of the video explaining why strippers don’t wear clothes with the person falling off the pole over and over)

-Bruce is autistic. He gives off tism vibes (you’re trying to tell me that a man who dresses up as a bat and fights crime as a trauma response to watching his parents be murdered in front of him is neurotypical?) and I also want to see more a positive autism representation in main characters in media.

-Dick’s use of made up words such as “aster” and “whelmed” come from the fact that he spoke very little English when he was first adopted by Bruce, and decided that using obviously made up words made his slip ups less noticeable, or people would assume he did it on purpose. Even after he mastered English, he continued using his made up words because they just made sense (the batcomputer and jl database have a hidden file called the “DICKtionary” unlinking all his words and their meanings)

-Jason can’t drive. He died when he was 15 (you have to be 16 in Jersey to get your permit), was revived in Nanda Parbat so there was no need to drive, and was too embarrassed to mention it by the time he returned to Gotham and the Batfamily. This is his deepest, darkest, secret.

-As a child, Dick was convinced Batman was a vampire (and still isn’t entirely convinced otherwise)

-Tim collects little trinkets. Dick noticed this early on, and made sure to get a little souvenir trinket for Tim every time he went on a trip. Bruce noticed and started doing the same thing, and so did his friends after a while. Tim proudly displays his collection, because to him, each trinket is a reminder that people are thinking about him and care about him. (Most of his possessions in Drake Manor were necessities like clothes, or things he had bought for himself. Barely anything was a gift)

-Jason has OCPD, and needs things to be an exact certain way, and struggles when they aren’t. It’s one of the biggest reasons why he is often so frustrated with Bruce, who tends to do things in a different, certain way.

-Cass is actually the most neurotypical in the family, though because she has learned how to be a person through observing, she has picked up on many neurodivergent traits, specifically stimming.

-Steph’s aesthetic is retro pastel pop, mixed with maximalism. She loves bright colors and loud designs (though purple is still her favorite by far)

-Alfred keeps guns stashed all over the house in case of emergencies. Bruce hates this and has tried to remove them, but has given up as he can never seem to find them all. Alfred also brought up the good point of “I am not a vigilante like you, Master Bruce, and I am not quite as young as I used to be. If there is ever an invasion of the manor, I would quite enjoy the security of being able to protect myself.”

-There is a list of who is banned from the kitchen. Bruce is at the top of the list, Tim isn’t allowed to make anything more complex than instant food, Cass and Damian aren’t very good, but at least make an effort to learn so are therefore allowed with supervision. Dick has a partial ban. He is an absolute disaster in the kitchen, except for soups, and sarma (his mother’s recipe was one of the few things he brought with him from the circus and was obsessed with perfecting it as a kid, leading it to be one of the only things he can actually make) Steph isn’t allowed to cook, but she is a proficient baker. Duke isn’t a horrible cook, but mainly avoids the kitchen, preferring to stay out of Alfred’s way. Jason is the only batfamily member who is not banned from the kitchen under any circumstances. He has a tendency to stress cook, and likes trying new fancy recipes, because on the streets he only ate what he could find. This gives him a sense of control.

-Superman wasn’t a great dad to Connor at first, opting to send him to the farm to stay with Ma and Pa, but after a stern talking to from Bruce, came around started making an effort. Connor is an excellent big brother to Jon.

[jeannineee]

Could u do princess treatment with Ruhn I know that man would give sm attention, wouldn’t let you lift a finger, and buy u and any and everything

Also I absolutely adore ur blog and ur becoming one of my fav fic writers ❤️

Being Ruhn’s mate would include…

a/n: I hope you’re okay with this being in headcanon format, anon. Also thank you so much!! Requests are still open, yall.

nsfw towards the end (18+ please)

SFW:

this man worships the ground you walk on

Even before the two of you started dating, before you discovered the mating bond, he waited on you, hand and foot.

holds your drink at the bar and would destroy anyone who tried touching it

Would also destroy anyone who tried touching you

He is a jealous male for SURE. But not in an overbearing way, he just doesn’t like anyone messing with his mate

“Wear whatever you want, I can fight” type of man

holds your bags for you when you go shopping

refuses to let you pay for ANYTHING. (New clothes, drinks at the bar, dinner, etc.) he almost finds it offensive when you try to pay for yourself lmao

When you’re on the sidewalk together, he makes sure he’s on the outside, closest to the street.

Loves playing video games with you, or at least having you watch if you’re not into them.

3 AM car rides talking about his past, and your future together!!

‘Princess’ is his favorite pet name for you. He also likes baby, pretty girl, sweetheart.

His love language is physical touch. He HAS to be touching you in some way, even if it’s just your legs touching as you sit on the couch.

Speaking of physical touch!!

LOOOOVES PDA

He’s proud of you and has no issue showing you off.

Doesn’t give a fuuuck who is watching. (He obvi won’t make you uncomfortable but!!)

NSFW

BODY WORSHIP!!!

Ruhn will take his time kissing your body and marking you.

Will also spend hours between your legs, not stopping until you’re a whimpering, overstimulated mess.

Since we’re on the topic of overstimulation, he WILL make you come several (or more) times each time the two of you have sex. (But you have a safe word, of course.)

It took some convincing to get you to do it, but he loves when you sit on his face.

He puts his lip ring to good use.

Enjoys praising you

“There you go, princess, come for me.”

“Too much? You can take it baby. Be a good girl for me.”

For sure likes light bondage, and maybe some light impact play, occasionally?

His favorite position is missionary. It’s versatile, and he likes being able to see your face as he fucks you.

Literally loooves using clit stimulating toys on you. Vibrators, suction toys.

When the two of you first started having sex, he made it his mission to learn exactly what makes you see stars.

Your pleasure is his priority.

[blossomverse]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚El Chico del Apartamento 512˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: neighbor!miguel o'hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

summary: you've had a crush on miguel for the longest time. he happens to be your very kind, extremely attractive, next-door neighbor. what happens when you end up bonding over smoothies and a broken elevator?

cw & tw: mostly fluff, mildly suggestive dream, catcalling (by strangers), random man grabs reader's wrist without permission, stuck inside an elevator trope, some cursing, minors dni

a/n: i'm currently undergoing a miguel brainrot, that's how i found myself writing this in the middle of the night. the sentences on bold and italic are supposed to be reader’s inner thoughts. the story is heavily inspired by the song "el chico del apartamento 512" by selena. i srsly recommend listening to it as you read

Every day, coming home from work, same routine. Life in Nueva York was like this. The unwanted stares and comments from strange men were a frequent thing you’ve had to deal with. Your response would always be to ignore, continue walking as fast as you possibly could, and show that you were not afraid, nor bothered.

Today was no different, unfortunately. After a stressful shift at work, you had arrived inside your apartment complex and clicked on the elevator’s summoning button. That old thing would always take forever to arrive when called. As you waited patiently, one of the neighbors that always had some unwelcome attention to give, began approaching to make conversation.

Please, not today. I’m tired of rejecting this dude.

“Oh, how lucky I am! I’ve been waiting to see you again, Y/n.” He stood next to you.

“Mhm, I bet.” You answered, uninterested in whatever he had to say.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask–“

“No offense, but you should really go shower…” You blurted the words out, cutting him off before he could ask anything.

The man stood speechless for a hot second, unsure on what to say next. You simply stared blankly at the wall, not even sparing him one pitiful glance. He was about to speak again, when a familiar ding was heard. Finally, that prehistoric device had reached the first floor and opened its doors.

A few people made their way out and as you looked up to see the last one leaving, your heartbeat completely accelerated at the sight. There was he: the image of your dreams, the one your heart belonged to. The guy from apartment 512.

“M- Miguel, hi!” You said, a little bit too loud and enthusiastically for your own good.

You’d bask on the embarrassment later when you had reached the comfort of your home. For now, all you cared about was him.

“Y/n, it’s nice to see you.” He walked fast and made his way to open his mailbox.

“It is– it is always nice to see you, too.” You heard your words become nothing but stammers. Something that happened regularly when you would speak to him.

“Home from work already?” He asked while taking out his correspondence and shuffling through it.

“Oh, yeah… finished early. I’m guessing you’ll probably head to work now, I see you’re umm– you’re wearing your gym clothes.” You subtly admired his muscles, which looked enhanced by his tight fitted shirt.

“I’ll stop to get a smoothie from across the street first. They’re really nice and nutritious, you know. Maybe you’d like to check them out sometime.”

With you?

Your heart ran a mile, just thinking about that possibility. But no, his voice was too nonchalant to be asking you out. He was simply recommending the place. Nothing more, right?

“Sure, I’ll go when I have the time.”

There was an awkward silence growing as you looked down at your feet. You didn’t want to make this situation uncomfortable or to keep bothering him. Everyone that was waiting for the elevator along with you had already disappeared, including the annoying neighbor. You had completely disassociated with the fact that you were evidently trying to go home, ignoring everything just to give him your attention.

Would that make me look like a fool in front of him?

“Well, I– I should probably leave now. Guess we’ll talk another time.”

“Have a nice evening, Y/n.” He stuffed everything he had picked up at the mailbox into his duffle bag.

“Yeah, good luck at work.” You offered a tiny smile and pressed the button again, summoning the elevator.

“Thanks.” He chuckled and simply left.

In a few minutes you were stepping inside your apartment. Which just happened to be right next to his. That’s how you had met when you had just moved in. Both of you quickly became acquainted with each other over the months, although it’d be too extreme to call yourselves friends. You were just… neighbors on friendly terms.

“Ugh, I totally made myself look ridiculous again, didn’t I?” You spoke aloud to yourself as you took off your shoes.

This crush was something you had been harboring for quite a few months. At first, you just noticed he was an attractive man. No one could deny that. But as you continued getting to know little bits and pieces of him, and noticed how respectful and kind he was to you, compared to others, your heart couldn’t help but fall for him.

You went inside your room and opened the window. Looking down at the streets, you noticed how he was walking away from the kiosk with his smoothie in hand and couldn’t help but continue admiring him from afar. He took a small sip from it and continued his steps. Your eyes never left him, convinced that he would not notice you staring his way.

Miguel looked up and glanced at the building where you both lived. His eyes immediately noticed the opened window on the 5th floor, with a certain person leaning her elbows on it. He smiled at you and waved. Your cheeks and ears immediately heated up. He had noticed you.

You waved back reluctantly, then slowly stepped away from the window, closing it a few seconds later. As you sat down on your bed, you fanned your face and ears. Things just couldn’t get more humiliating than this.

You decided to take a cold shower, hoping it would relax your mood. Once the cool water hit your skin, you were able to take a deep breath and release all the tension. At some point you’d need to confess your feelings, right? The worst thing that could happen would be getting rejected. Or maybe he’d be nice enough to accept going on a date, just to try things out, and then end up confessing you’re not exactly compatible.

I could just keep this to myself forever, though.

The evening went on as it usually would. Dinner was made while playing that romantic playlist you had created when thinking of him. Then you watched some tv, not paying too much attention to it, as you wrote the —probably— thousandth love letter you had made for him. That was the only way you knew how to pour out your feedings. At least without stuttering like a fool. But you could never give these to him.

Acting like a schoolgirl in love was definitely not the best way to go about this, you knew it. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from wasting the ink of your pen on a piece of paper that’d remain stored away, along with others like it. A red sharpie adorned the corners of the letter with pretty hearts. Each one was a symbol of your infatuation.

The sky was dark outside, letting you know it was probably time to go to bed. After all, tomorrow you had to wake up early, just to repeat the same, boring routine. You went to the kitchen to grab some water, like you usually would before sleeping. The faint sound of a blender could be heard through the wall. He was already home.

You smiled, knowing that only a wall separated both of you. A wall that felt infinite. With a final sigh, you heard the blender stop, and made your way to your room. The satin bedsheets welcomed you, bringing comfort after a long day of work. The thought of your earlier interactions with him clouded your mind as you waited for sleep to take over.

The next morning, as you were making your way out of your apartment complex, some random old man you had never seen before began trying to talk to you. There weren’t a lot of people around, unlike most mornings. For a moment, you considered going back inside, but you simply couldn’t afford being late for work. The old man spoke in Spanish so you could just act like you didn’t understand that he was talking to you.

“Chica, ven a verme.” [Girl, come to see me.]

You walked away without breaking pace. The old man kept calling behind you, his voice getting closer, until suddenly, his hand was clutching your wrist to turn you around. Your gasp was audible. No one had gone as far as grabbing you without permission before.

You were ready to defend yourself and slap the man away, when you felt the presence of another person, yanking the stranger away from you. When you turned your head around, you saw Miguel. His tall figure was blocking you from the old man’s view.

“No le caen los viejos rabos verdes.” [She doesn’t like dirty old men.]

“Perdón, no sabía que tenía novio.” [Sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend.]

You were breathing heavily, trying to process everything that had just happened. The old man walked away. Miguel didn’t move for a few minutes, staring at him menacingly. Once your knight in shining armor had made sure the coast was clear, he turned to you with a soft expression on his face.

“Are you alright? That fucker didn’t hurt you, did he?” He was concerned and his arms wanted to hug you, but he didn’t want to step outside the line, like that other man had done.

“N-no, no, I’m okay… I think.” Your body was shivering just a bit, partially because of the chilly morning air.

“I’m glad to hear that. If anyone ever bothers you again, tell me.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you, for helping me… but, how come you’re outside this early?” You were confused. He had told you about how he only worked from afternoon until nighttime at a gym, and barely ever woke up early.

“I was on my way to the airport.”

“Oh– you’re going to travel… well, I wouldn’t want you to lose your flight because of me. Anyways, I have to get to work–“ You began walking away.

“Wait wait, I’ll go with you. And I’m not traveling.” His words made you slow down your steps.

“I don’t want to be a burden…” You said, reluctantly.

“You’re not, I promise. But it’s completely fine if you don’t want me to accompany you, so don’t feel like you have to agree.” He assured you with a warm smile.

“No, I would really like that– I mean… sure, you can.”

He gave you one of the chuckles you loved so much and you resumed your walk to work. He followed after you silently. It was quiet as you both made your way through the streets, save for the sound of some cars and the other people that walked by. It was a comforting silence. It made you feel safe.

Once you had reached your destination, you turned around to thank him again. You both said your goodbyes as you watched him leave. There was barely any time to process anything. Much less as you both walked together. He always made you so nervous.

Work was slow and tiring. Your mind drifted to the thought of Miguel, as it often did. But today, he seemed to be persistent on staying running through your head for longer. It definitely made you get distracted way too many times during working hours.

Finally, after each agonizing second, it was time to clock out for the day. Once you were a block away from home, you remembered to buy groceries. By the time you had finished, the night had covered the sky with its starry mantle.

As you neared the building of your apartment complex, your eyes drifted to the kiosk across the street. There they found Miguel, and a smile crept up on your face. He was speaking with the other customers, a lively conversation likely taking place by the looks of it. His gym clothes were on, meaning he was back from work.

You considered going there with the pretext of trying the smoothies he had recommended, but desisted upon the idea for the moment. First, you needed to get rid of the grocery bags. Perhaps, by the time you had left them at home, he’d still be there chatting and you’d have time to come down and casually join the fun.

If only the elevator was faster, of course. It seemed to move even slower when you needed it to do its job the most. Miguel and the smoothies would have to happen another time. Or not… for you felt a familiar presence entering the building and joining the long wait for the elevator.

“Hey again.” Miguel’s voice rang across the hall.

“Oh– hi, Miguel.” You totally pretended you hadn’t recognized him by the smell of the Axe body spray he’d use after gym.

“Need help with that?” He pointed at the bags.

“It’s no big deal, honestly. But thanks, you’re always a gentleman.” Soon enough, you realized you’d given him a compliment and cringed internally for some reason.

“Heh, glad to know that.” His voice all smug.

The elevator arrived and you both made your way inside. It creaked loudly as it made its way up to the 5th floor. Miguel shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Remind me to tell the landlord to get this old thing fixed.”

“It’s no use, anyways. You know he’ll just ignore the request.” You sighed and leaned your back against the elevator wall.

“I should still try, at least before it brea–“ The lightbulbs blinked and the elevator stopped.

The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, realizing what was happening. You were now stuck inside an elevator, and with the man of your dreams no less. But even the fact of being here with him didn’t stop you from slowly panicking.

“Shit… Miguel, what are we going to do?” You asked, exasperatedly.

“Press the button for emergencies, it should alert the nearest fire department. Just don’t panic.”

“How can I not panic? We could run out of air and die here…” You pressed the emergency button repeatedly and checked your phone to find signal, but to no avail.

“Don’t do that, the button could break. And we’re not gonna run out of air. This has air currents here, I think.” He spoke while typing on his phone.

“You seem oddly relaxed…”

“I’m also worried, but I’m trying to text the group chat of the people I train. One of the dudes is an engineer and there’s also a doctor, so they’ll probably know what to do.”

“Shouldn’t you call 911 or something, instead? I have absolutely no signal–“

“Hold on, I’m getting some answers… Miles said ‘don’t run out of air’…” He squinted his eyes as he began reading the replies.

“Ha, I told you we could run out of air!” You began panicking more now, thinking his doctor friend had answered.

“Hobie said ‘lay flat on the floor if it starts falling’…” Miguel continued reading the texts out loud in a confused tone.

“WHAT? Don’t tell me your engineer friend said that.” You were now seated down on the floor.

“No, he’s a musician. Only the younger people are answering right now, but these sound ridiculous.” He almost laughed as he kept reading. Leave it to the teens to joke about a situation like this one.

You leaned your head back in frustration. Miguel ended up sitting down as well and carried on typing. He looked awfully chill in this situation. Your only hope now was that the fire department had been notified through the emergency button. As time passed, you convinced yourself that if you were going to die, at least it’d be with the man you liked.

“Well… thankfully we’ve got some food and water, in case we have to spend the night here.” You pointed to the grocery bags, which were now also laying on the floor as well.

“And good company.” He smiled without looking up from his phone.

You felt your face heat up again, and your heart jumped up and down. His words always managed to fluster you in the worst moments. Now that you were stuck together for so long, it was becoming harder to hide your crush. You thought that this was probably a signal the universe was sending you, to convince you to finally confess before you died and it was too late.

“Umm, Miguel…”

“Yeah?” He looked up, glancing at you now.

“So there’s this thing I’ve been meaning to say– or ask, I guess.” You breathed in before continuing.

“I hear you.”

It was now or never.

“Okay, so–“

The elevator shook slightly and began moving up again. The lights flickered repeatedly, then the doors opened after it had reached your floor. You were not dying there together, after all.

“Oh, I guess grandpa decided to take a nap in the middle of his shift.” Miguel joked as he stood up.

He reached out his hand and helped you stand up. He then took some of the bags and carried them for you until you’d reached your door.

“I’m so glad it started working again.” You commented as you fumbled with the keys.

“Yeah, but anyways, what was it that you wanted to ask me? You never got to finish your sentence.”

You stood there frozen for a second, trying to come up with something to say. Your life was no longer at risk, so you didn’t feel the need of confessing before death any longer.

“Oh, it was nothing important.” You stalled, still thinking about what to say.

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything.”

“I just– I wanted to know if I could start training at the gym you go to.” You said as you opened the door of your apparent.

“That’s it?” He sounded like he didn’t really believe that’s what you meant to say.

“Yep. I’ve just never been to a place like that in my life so I gotta ask the expert, of course.” You smiled innocently, as if to convince not only him, but yourself, that what you had said was the truth.

“Sure, you’re welcome to do so. It’s not exactly a secret society, so you could have joined any gym without asking me.” He spoke sarcastically but your mind focused too much on the last portion of his sentence.

He probably doesn’t want me to join the same gym as him.

“Right… well, it was a long day and you must be tired. See you around, Miguel.”

You took your bags inside and closed the door quickly, leaving him slightly dumbfounded. Leaning against it after locking, you took a deep breath. Your mind felt like a jigsaw puzzle, and overthinking wasn’t helping at all. A shower was all you needed to get rid of all the stress caused by today’s incidents.

Once you had finished freshening up, you grabbed a quick snack before heading to bed. Rest was due. You didn’t feel like thinking about him and confusing your head even more. Now in the comfort of your bed, you allowed sleep to take over.

Thankfully, there was no need to worry about waking up early the next day. The sweet weekend had arrived, meaning you could rest and stay inside all day. The perfect way to avoid Miguel.

However, your dreams had different plans. As if to spite you, your subconscious mind displayed images of how it would be like if you and Miguel were a couple. The dream began by showing how you knocked on his door and confessed to him, he looked happy as he confessed his feelings as well. Then everything shifted, you were both having dinner at a nearby restaurant and he leaned over to kiss you. One last shift of images happened before you woke up. This time, the images presented you both kissing inside the elevator, slowly taking each other’s clothes off. His mouth had moved to your neck, leaving marks as he made his way down your body. It all felt soft and intense… and so real.

The loud honk of a car resonated through the walls, making your eyes open. The memories of your dream flashing rapidly inside your head, making you cover up your face in shame. But you wouldn’t deny how much you were enjoying it, so you screamed into your pillow in frustration.

“Fucking car had to wake me up exactly when it was getting good!” You whined and threw the pillow.

What if this was another sign?

Sitting up on the bed, you reached out for your phone and called your best friend. Sometimes when a girl doesn’t know what to do, she needs professional assistance from someone who knows her better than she knows herself.

“Oh em gee, look who’s calling!” You heard your friend on the other side of the call.

“Hey, bestie… so, I really need help with something– more like, someone.” You admitted nervously.

“And here I thought you wanted to, you know, say hi to me and know how I’m doing, maybe ask me out for brunch but nooo… I’m kidding, of course. How may I be of service?” She joked, making you laugh.

“Well, it’s about my neighbor.” You whispered the word ‘neighbor’, as if it was possible for Miguel to hear you talk about him through the wall.

“Wait, is this the neighbor you spoke to me about like two months ago?”

“Yeah, it’s about him. I’m in dire need of some advice.” You hated how she knew you so well.

“Girl, seriously… I thought by now you had already fucked him.” Her words made you gasp and burst out laughing.

“You did not just say that.” You continued giggling, unable to control yourself.

“Well, did you do it? Or did he break your heart and you need your best friend to cheer you up?” Maybe she didn’t know you that well.

“No, I just have this huge crush on him–“ You began explaining.

“Still?” Your friend cut you off with her comment.

“Yes, still. And I don’t know, but lately a lot of strange things have been occurring. I keep thinking they’re signs saying that I should tell him how I feel, but he keeps giving me mixed signals sometimes. I never know what’s going on inside his head.”

You continued rambling about everything that had happened in the past two days. Your friend listened carefully, her own mind trying to come up with the best answer to your problem. Surely, you couldn’t continue living life like this. Once you had finished the rant, she stayed silent for a few more seconds before finally speaking.

“In my opinion, you should knock on his damn door and confess. What’s he going to do? Bite you? You’d probably like it, anyways.” At least she spoke the truth.

“You make it sound so easy.” You shook your head and sighed.

“Because it is. You knock on his door, confess, I’m sure he likes you so he’ll say yes, then he’ll invite you in and you can fuck. Simple.” She sounded proud of her answer.

“It’s not certain that he likes me, maybe he’s just really nice.” You protested, still denying that possibility.

“Gosh, just get it over with! If he rejects you, just come over to my house for the weekend and I’ll help you deal with the pain. But now I need you to get your ass up and stop being a coward. Or else, I’ll show myself up when you least expect it to tell him everything.”

“You wouldn’t do that…”

“Try me.” You heard her chuckle.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, I’ll do it myself.” You sighed in defeat.

“Today.” She almost threatened.

“Mhm, today, whatever.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be expecting an update of how it went. But if by midnight I don’t receive anything, I’ll know for sure it wasn’t a rejection. Good luck, love ya!” She blew a kiss through the phone and hung up.

This girl…

You armed yourself with the courage your best friend had provided you with. She was right, you needed to get this over with. The next two hours you spent getting ready, making sure you looked and smelled nice. Even going as far as shaving, because you never know.

Once you thought you’d done enough, you checked yourself in the mirror one last time and inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. As you made your way out, your heart was racing like never before. With wobbly legs and fiddled thumbs, you found yourself at his door. Another breath was taken before finally knocking on it.

Each second felt endless, even the door seemed to be opening in slow motion. Goosebumps suddenly appeared on your skin as you timidly looked up. But right there, standing in front of you, wasn’t the guy from apartment 512. Instead, a beautiful blonde woman had answered.

You felt your heart chatter. A million things going through your head as you stared at this woman you had never seen before. She looked a bit confused, waiting for you to speak first. At the moment, you simply couldn’t find any words.

Of course, he has a girlfriend. How could I be so stupid?

You were about to turn around and walk away while apologizing for the interruption. She obviously didn’t recognize you, so you’d just pretend you didn’t live next door and act like you were looking for someone else’s apartment. Then you’d pick up the pieces of your heart and spend the weekend with your best friend. As you took your first step back, the blonde spoke up.

“Were you looking for my brother?”

You froze and blinked twice. The breath you didn’t realize you were holding was released. Now you felt even more confused than her.

“Your brother? Miguel never mentioned he had a sister.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Are you the neighbor he was stuck with inside the elevator last night?” Miguel’s sister chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“My brother went to the kiosk to get us breakfast, even though we should already be having lunch. You can come in and wait for him if you’d like.” She opened the door wider to invite you in.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come by another time.”

“Alright, then I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he comes back.” She gave you a warm smile as she began closing the door.

“Sure, no problem.” You smiled back.

Once the door was finally shut, you remained standing in the hallway. There were now two options: either run back inside the house like a coward, or meet him at the kiosk. You chose the latter.

The elevator was as sluggish as ever, yet this time you didn’t care. You made your way out of the building, feeling like you were in a movie scene as the air hit your face while you walked to the kiosk. You noticed him immediately, leaning against the counter as he waited to receive his order. And in this moment, this was all that mattered. Him, only him.

The guy from apartment 512.

He looked up and your eyes met. There was no turning back now as you approached. He smiled brightly and you returned the smile with a hint of shyness.

“So, you came to try the smoothies I told you about.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Actually, I came to talk to you about something– and I promise it’s not about the gym.” You heard him chuckle.

“Okay, how about we enjoy some smoothies first and then we talk?” You were about to agree to his suggestions and then you remembered…

“But what about your sister?”

“Oh, don’t worry– wait, how do you know about my sister?” He was confused.

“Umm, I knocked at your door earlier.” You nervously admitted.

“Hmm, I see. As I was saying, don’t worry. She won’t die without her overly complicated, banana, pineapple, kiwi, and almond milk smoothie. Or her empanadas, which I seriously recommend, too.” Miguel rolled his eyes playfully as he listed out all the ingredients from his sister’s smoothie.

“If you say so… then I’ll have an uncomplicated guava smoothie with empanadas.” You spoke cheerfully.

“Good choice.” He stepped slightly closer.

“I think today I’m finally making the correct choices, for once.”

Life in Nueva York was like this, same people, same routine. Skyscrapers reaching for the sky, a bustling city scene. Yellow taxis honking loud, streets alive with motion. From dawn till dusk, a vibrant place, a perpetual emotion.

And now you had someone to share it all with. The smoothies from the kiosk across the street. The ancient elevator that would sometimes fall asleep. The unwanted stares and comments. This life and its precious moments.

❀if you made it this far, thank you for reading~ it's been ages since i wrote anything, so i hope i'm not too rusty. let me know if you'd like a part 2❀

[balkanradfem]

I just had an Experience in the water.

Heading home from my garden where I re-planted new tomatoes (because my original ones all got destroyed by the frost, RIP), I was feeling a little dizzy, light-headead and woozy. I figured putting myself inside the cold river was the best solution for all of these things, so I changed my course to the secluded edge of the fields, where trees and bushes were guarding the ground. And, if one was not afraid of slipping and rolling down, water could be accessed as well.

I hid myself into the bushy riverside area, got most of my clothing off and slowly tipped inside the river. It was colder than usual, due to the recent frosty days, so it took me a few tries to get myself completely submerged. I usually make sure nobody can see me; this time there was a small group on the other side of the river, but they seemed to be children, and I don't believe they had noticed me at all.

I was having a great time up to my neck inside the icy water, when something hit the back of my thigh. A log must have somehow bumped into me, I thought, and I turned around trying to see it in the water, when something poked its head out and swam around me. A dog somehow swam here, I thought even more confused, but then she turned her head around, and looked at me, and I realized it was a beaver! A whole big grown up beaver was right next to me, looking at me! I gasped and stared mesmerized, while she stared back at me good-naturedly, for a good few seconds, both of us in shock. Then she turned to swim away, but I couldn't watch her departure because something else got my full attention. A big bird was flying right at me. I saw the big wing span before I saw the head, and it was – a heron. I was immediately thrilled by this, because herons will not come close to me, I had herons offendedly fly away if I so much as looked at them from 500 meters distance. This one was already so close! Come to me, I thought with satisfaction, but then, already so close, the heron realized I was there, and changed direction mid-flight, flinching away from my offensive presence. It made a big circle to the other side of the river instead. I could still see it from up close!

Also during this entire encounter, I was almost completely naked, was only wearing my underwear. The animals were also not wearing anything so we were all even. I've never seen a beaver, or a heron, from such short distance before. I don't think this kind of thing could happen in the warmer months, I think the animals only relax this much in the river when the water is not very human-hospitable, so they don't expect to run into a whole human being while chilling on a Saturday evening.

My first interaction with a beaver was an underwater headbutt! It wasn't strong, but I can still feel the place on my thigh where she bumped into me, it was so damn cool.

Now, the mystery remains: why were both the beaver and the heron heading for this exact location, at the same time? My first thought was that maybe heron was hunting the beaver, but it doesn't make any sense, the beaver is way too big to be prey. Then I thought, maybe all of this was a coincidence. Maybe the beaver was just there to get some of the floating logs, because she needed some building material. And the heron was using this spot as her usual chilling place, and I rudely occupied it before she could land there. But then it hit me.

They were heading for the same spot, at the same time, because they had a meeting. They were secret friends, and this spot was their hangout spot. They were gonna chill together and discuss recent river news. I sadly was not accepted into their friend group as I was the wrong species and also did not announce that I would be there. I scared them away, my only hope is that they had a chance to gossip and rant about me later.

[jksprincess10]

Are we out of the woods 6. Open up my chest, take everything I've got

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

Notification blog

Later in the evening, you help Santiago with the dishes. The other boys disappeared into their room, and you were glad for it. You tried to ignore the want that kept growing like a bonfire, but it was easier when Frankie wasn’t in the same room.

“Santi?”

“Hm?” He looks up from his task, which is to scrub the dishes.

“I’m sorry for kissing you when I was drunk. I shouldn’t have played with you like that.”

“It wasn’t unpleasant.” He shrugs. He was chiller than you thought. “But it’s okay, I can see that you’re all over Frankie. I’m not blind.”

You wipe the plate in your hand a bit roughly as he mentions the name. “I’m not…”

“He likes you too, you know. I know mi hermano, and he’s very awkward around someone he likes.”

“He has a weird way of showing it.”

“Well, no offense, but you too. Maybe you two should spend time away… alone. He’s trying to ask you out, you know… You just keep rejecting him when he even tries to flirt with you.”

The thought scares you. You could barely contain yourself while there were others around. What would it be like to have him alone? You hum pensively at Santi’s words. Maybe he was right. You finish your respective tasks in a comfortable silence, Santiago letting you simply think.

The next morning, there’s a shy knock on your door again. You were already half awake. You tried to fix your hair a bit, before inviting the person in. It was Frankie, already dressed, his eternal cap still on his head.

“Hey, we’re going to patrol around for the day, just in case people try anything funny again. But I was thinking… Do you… wanna go for a drive together tonight, maybe?” His hand is playing nervously with the curls at the back of his head.

You curse Santiago silently for pushing Frankie to make a move after last evening’s conversation.

“Sure. But I have one condition…” His eyes are sparkling with a newly found hope. “Absolutely. No. Dad. Rock.” You punctuate every word, serious and unwavering.

“Can’t make any promises. See you later.” You see the hint of a smile on his lips before he leaves.

Why are you so nervous? Why does this feel like a date? You probably spend too long getting ready after dinner, choosing comfortable but cute and warm clothes. You try not to do too much, because you knew Frankie would still wear his old clothes and ugly cap.

You hear his voice outside your door.

“Are you ready?”

You open the door and smile as you see him wearing the same old khaki pants with a blue flannel shirt under a brown trucker coat. Of course, his cap is hiding his gorgeous curls. You grab your own coat and follow him. You wish the guys goodnight, and you’re thankful that they don’t make any comments on you two leaving together.

You get into the passenger side. And this time, it feels different. Still awkward but… different. You know a bit more about the man at your side. You know he likes you; you know he wants to protect you. You just have to dig through the broken parts he won’t show.

He changes the radio station until he stops on a pop song, remembering you asked for no dad rock.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you see the cabin getting farther in the rearview mirror.

“You’ll see.”

“Are you trying to kidnap me, Francisco? You know this is the perfect setting for a murder.”

“Would’ve done that long ago.”

You chuckle and keep looking outside as you try to enjoy the ride. You feel his hesitation, then, the warmth of his hand on your thigh. Your cheeks heat up at the attention he’s giving you.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“It’s one thing when I’m drunk and then when I’m sober…” You laugh nervously. “I didn’t have many… boyfriends, you know.”

“Hmmm. Your dad is a bit overprotective, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. It’s an understatement. I would have to sneak out a lot.”

“Didn’t think you were such a bad girl.”

He shoots you a teasing look, his hand still on the wheel while the other rests on your thigh.

“You’d be surprised.”

“We’re almost there.”

The road leading to the dense forest was behind you, and you were in a mostly clear environment. Not many trees, nothing around, really, other than small country roads. Frankie parks on the side and invites you to get out. You already mourn the loss of his hand on you.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” You say, deadpan.

He laughs as he sits on the trunk of the car. “Look up.”

You sit beside him, and you follow his gaze, your mouth falling open as you notice just how dark the sky is and how bright are the stars and the moon. They were so visible; you could almost count them.

“We can’t see that from the cabin… thought you’d enjoy the view.” He shrugs as he explains shyly.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” You admit. You always lived in the richest parts of the city, away from nature’s beauty.

“I guessed so.” But he’s not looking at the sky. He’s looking at your face, at your expression of wonder.

You sigh dreamily, then you look at him. “I’m sorry for taking advantage of you at the party.” The scenery begged for your openness as the two of you weren’t confined in the small cottage.

“Take advantage of…me?” Frankie asks, puzzled. “No, I was scared to take advantage of you because of your state. I… would have never want to take advantage of you, cariño.”

“I wanted you so badly, Frankie.” You admit with an anxious laugh.

“And now?” he asks, hope sparkling in his soft brown eyes.

“I still… do. But I also want your honesty. I don’t like that you’re hiding your past from me.”

He sees the way you shiver under the cold wind, so he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer to his body. His mind seems absent though, while he tries to find the words that wouldn’t make you run away.

“You… telling me about your past… won’t change anything for me.” You add, trying to reassure him.

“Hm…” He looks at you with apparent fear and anxiety, twisting his handsome face. “After the military… I tried to find ways to deal with seeing so many people die. So, I fell into hard drugs. Had Isabella in the process. An accident with some girlfriend that I knew I wouldn’t spend my life with. I wanted to be there for her, but I was too addicted, and the mother didn’t want anything to have to do with me. All I have is…” He takes out his wallet and opens it to show you the picture of the girl. “This.”  She’s pretty, with curls like Frankie’s and big eyes like his. The only difference was that they were a dark green color.

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”  You cup his face, feeling his patchy beard under your soft fingers. “Thank you for telling me.” He puts his wallet aside to hold you close, as you pull on his face to kiss him. It’s still as electric as the last time, so you knew your feelings weren’t simply enhanced by your inebriety and that they were sincere. This time, he tasted like fresh mint and bubblegum as your tongue explored his mouth. His sweetness was addicting, he was a whole candy shop you could devour. He left your lips to catch his breath, his aquiline nose resting against your cheek as you simply held each other.

“Are you cold? You wanna go home?”

“Hmmm. Yes. Cuddles under the blanket sound amazing right now.”

Francisco reciprocates your smile. And you wish you could freeze his face in time, memorize the way his lips tilt up under his mustache, trace with your fingers the slight crows’ feet around his brown eyes.

You’re parked in front of the small cottage that became your refuge. The car is in park, one of Frankie’s hand is still tapping on the wheel nervously, while the other one is on your thigh. You can see light coming out of the house’s window.

“What are we... telling the boys?”

You bite your lip while you think. Even though your affection towards Frankie had been guessed by Santi, you weren’t sure if you were ready to be out and open around them. You still had a lot to figure out.

“Nothing… I don’t think I’m ready to share anything. So, no cuddles tonight.” You say, disappointed.

He hums in agreement, before leaning towards you and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “We’ll try not to look too suspicious.” He smiles teasingly.

You both get out of the car and enter the cabin. Will and Santiago are sharing beers in front of the fireplace.

“Good drive?” Santi asks with a smirk.

“Hmm. The roads are nice at night.” Frankie responds, hands in his coat.

“Yeah, real nice. Well… good night boys.” You let out, a bit too fast, before disappearing to your bedroom. Once the door is closed, your hand comes up to your heart, feeling your rapid heartbeat under your palm. You really liked Frankie.

[jewbeloved]

Craig, Damien, Tweek, Kyle and Stan x Genderfluid Y/N? (All separate)

Craig, Damien, Tweek, Kyle, and Stan with genderfluid s/o👦👩🧑💖💖

I hope this is accurate, I kinda forgot a little about genderfluid people so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes.

Warnings: None

Gender: (Over time)

💙 Craig Tucker 🫧

Bro. you can be a worm, a plane, a shooting star or whatever and Craig would still not care. He only cares for your personality.

When you came out to him that you're genderfluid he would be right on to supporting you to the maximum!

Immediately asks you what your pronouns are and goes to buy you a pin that has the pronouns that you want to go by.

You showing up to school in new clothes or appearances? doesn't matter to Craig he will always support your decision on whatever you do. It's your life, your body, and your feelings. Nobody is allowed to control that and he will make sure of that.

Kindly and gently will flip off the people who are offensive to you about genderfluid. Because um? them people are literally jealous of you and don't have anything else to do with their lives other than be straight up dickheads to folks like you.

You can count on Craig to be your number 1 supporter and that will never change💙💙💙

❤️ Damien Thorn 🔥

You would have to explain to him what that means. This boy literally lives in hell with his father most of the time, don't make fun of him for that 😭

He is not that good at supporting people so he will try his best to support you however he can.

Anyone...and I meant ANYONE who makes fun of you for being gender fluid is going to get the smoke. Damien will not tolerate any hateful stuff towards his s/o!

But anyways, he literally doesn't mind the fact that you suddenly are a girl and then the next day you're a boy and whatnot.

He also doesn't care if you show up in any clothing or other appearances. He might be living in hell for most of his time, but he will always support you no matter what. He loves that you are being yourself and you don't change who you are for others.

If you're insecure about something, you can talk to him! He's all for ears, he will patiently listen to everything you say or do.

Sweet boyfriend <3❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

💛 Tweek Tweak ☕

Similar to Craig, he would also be supportive of you as well. He asks you for your pronouns since he's afraid of calling you by the wrong ones and then you get mad at him for it.

You'll have to reassure him that he didn't do anything wrong If he does accidentally call you by the wrong pronouns.

Anyways, He would be really happy to see how proud you are for coming out to him about being gender fluid.

If you want to show out your pride by wearing pins or t-shirts, he will absolutely buy them for you! He just wants to be by your side and support with how every he can🥺

Can and will throw his coffee "accidentally" on the person who makes fun of you for being gender fluid. Mark his words.

But he would be pretty surprised and nervous if he saw you beating the shit out of someone who was being mean to you in the first place.

You've got another supporting boyfriend right here! <3 💛💛💛💛💛💛

💚 Kyle Broflovski 🍀

He probably didn't know what genderfluid means when you came out to him about it. He probably looked it up immediately before he says anything else towards you 😭

He didn't know alright? You would've looked something up if you didn't know what it means 😭😭😭

But putting all of that to the side, He would be happy that you were comfortable enough to tell him about this.

If he messes up your pronouns the first time this boy will apologize nonstop. Please don't be mad reader, he didn't know!

Just reassure him and tell him your correct pronouns and he will be a happy jew :3

Had a rough day because of some turd bullying you for being genderfluid? You can count on Kyle to take care of that buttwipe.

You both will spend the whole day cuddling and kissing if you're still in a bad mood though❤️💚💚💚

💙 Stan Marsh ❄️

Even if he also did his research about genderfluid people he kinda still wouldn't get it so he'll probably have to ask you what it means.

Unlike Kyle, he'll probably accidentally mess up your pronouns If you haven't already told him the pronouns you used.

How was he supposed to know if you don't tell him the pronouns you use reader???? 😭😭

He didn't exactly realize it until you brought it up to him and boy he will also be apologizing nonstop until you shut him up with a kiss and head pats before you tell him your right pronouns so he can remember them this time.

He still felt guilty for messing up your pronouns the whole time, but he is glad you weren't mad at him for that since it wasn't exactly his fault that he didn't know what pronouns you even used in the first place.

You'll probably be kissing and cuddling him for a while if you want this boy to stop being guilty for messing up your pronouns.

Anyways, He'll be really supportive of you! He will buy you certain clothing, pins, or whatever you want If you're feeling the need for some support about genderfluid.

Just don't tell Randy that his son stole his credit card to buy you those stuff :) 💙💙💙💙💙

Cutely waits in the corner for another south park episode to come out....

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

Play-by-Play Analysis of HARROW

Hello members of the jury! Since I only recently joined the Milgram fandom, I feel it'd be nice to have most of my thoughts on each MV so far in one big analysis for each. I'm starting with HARROW because Kotoko's second trial MV is coming out relatively soon, so I want to get my thoughts about her in order before then!

What? Double? MeMe? What are you talking about?

(Translation: Mikoto's giving me a headache so I've decided to hold off more in-depth analysis until Double actually releases)

Anyways, let's see what our local furry vigilante has for us!

CW Death and murder, child kidnapping and torture, vigilantism, online radicalization, self-loathing and grief, mention of cannibalism, sexual harassment (upskirt shots)

Theoretical Basis

(For anyone not yet familiar with the prisoner's situation)

There's not much debate over what Kotoko's murder is. She killed someone to "protect the weak", so vigilante justice.

[TASK (First Voice Drama)] Kotoko: I did kill someone. This is the one reason why I believe in the power of MILGRAM. But, the murder is only to protect the weak ones being bullied from the extremely evil ones. I became a shield for the weak, the result of becoming a fang for the weak.

The exact nature of her murder is... complicated, but we'll get there in the analysis.

Analysis

Alright, let's see what kind of incredibly subtle symbolism this video has in store for us-!

Or maybe we just get punched in the face by the symbolism! The opening lingers on a shot of Kotoko wearing a blindfold because "justice is blind." You get it? The lyrics in this scene are:

Let’s end this! “HARROW” “HARROW” I can’t forgive the evil hurting the weak It’s unforgivable, I won’t allow it, I sweared

(I'm using the English subtitles transcribed in the wiki btw, though I might change a bit of formatting for funsies)

So basically setting up the main message HARROW wants to communicate; Kotoko wants to protect those she considers weak. She cannot possibly forgive any offense, that she... "sweared." The past tense of 'swear' is 'swore' but alright.

However, it's worth noting that this is a biased showing of the events, as we're seeing them through Kotoko's eyes. She considers her justice as "blind", but I'm not entirely sure that's true. We’ll get to it when we get to it.

‘Harrow’ means to cause distress to (because I’m pretty sure we’re not referencing any farming equipment). In context, I believe it means Kotoko feels distressed by the evil in the world, which will make more sense as we look at other lyrics.

Kotoko is in her investigation room, for lack of a better name, and is pondering her investigation board. Now, if you think I'm insane enough to try to figure out what she's doing in that board... you're right, but I couldn't figure out anything too interesting. She seems to just be narrowing down suspects and figuring out murder routes.

Kotoko is seen wearing a white jacket with red streaks, as well as a black tank top of despair and white shoes. I've explained how I view the symbolism of her clothes in this other post (which you should probably read before this one because I reference it quite a bit), so I'm not gonna go too deeply into it here.

The interesting thing about this scene are all the wolves staring into the camera there. I believe all these wolves represent people online who do similar things to Kotoko and influencing her, which is gonna make slightly more sense as we go further. Note that there are many wolves here, too many to just be her family in my opinion, which is an interpretation I've seen around.

However, it's notable that there is also one other wolf which is seen directly next to Kotoko, not to mention the two wolf pelts (a white one where Kotoko is sitting, a brownish-grayish one next to her). We see the wolf sleeping for a moment, before waking up with a close up of its eye. By the way, in case anyone's concerned, the wolf is not different from the wolves we see in the pack later. It only looks white momentarily because of the lighting, but you can actually see it has the same "white under - gray top" as every other wolf.

I hope it's clear enough.

So why is this wolf important? I believe this is another person, but one who is working alongside Kotoko directly. We unfortunately never really see who they might be, but I do think they exist, and they're not the serial killer with the white hoodie. Again, things in these MVs make more sense the longer you go on.

One interesting thing is that the close-up of the eye looks like a camera lens. Currently, the theory I'm going with is that Kotoko is working alongisde this "wolf", but they don't meet in person often; they mostly speak through video chats. Thus the wolf's eye, the one which can stare at Kotoko, is a camera. I have very little basis for this, mind you, but without Deep Cover, this is the best I can come up with for now.

Finally, the lyrics, which are repeated several times over the course of the MV.

How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” Is the damage to get in the way of someone’s dream. I’ll gouge you out with my fangs

I think the placement of the word 'harrow' is sort of confusing the lyrics a bit. I think "how heavy is the damage to get in the way of someone's dream" makes one full sentence, so the way I read this is

"It's so horrible (it's harrowing, it distresses me) the damage evil people cause, that gets in the way of people's dreams. I'll destroy the evil, gouge them out like a wolf's fang."

Does that make sense? I hope it does. It's not like the exact meaning is too important; the main thing to take away here is how much Kotoko hates people who get in the way of other people's lives.

Alright watch out this one's important. Kotoko's out on the street, and looks at a sign which speaks of an accident, asking the public to call the police if they have more information. Meanwhile, this lyric plays:

Stained emotions, what is winning or losing Feeding on food so I don’t burn out

The important thing to note here is how unsure Kotoko seems here; she sounds lost. She can't tell what she wants, "what is winning or losing", her emotions are "stained" because she's in despair. For one reason or another, she seems distraught.

The reason for the stained emotions is likely that accident sign we see. It appears repeatedly throughout the MV, as you're going to see. Why it's so important is up in the air, but for now, I'm going with the idea that the person who died in this accident was someone Kotoko knew personally.

Well, "accident." We'll get there.

The moment Kotoko stares at the sign, the lyric "feeding on food so I don't burn out" plays. Presumably, "feeding on food" refers to her vigilantism, the thing she does to feel alive, to keep the flame inside her burning. This isn't the only reason she does the things she does, but it is an important one. Kotoko is sad over this "accident", so she feels she has to do something about it so as to not break down entirely. In fact, it’s very possible it’s after this incident occurred that Kotoko dropped out of university.

(T1) Q7: What did you study at university?

KY: For a while, I studied at the faculty of law. There's something I want to do, so I'm currently taking a break from studies, though.

For the flower symbolism fans, I believe the flowers next to the road sign are white lilies, pink roses, and I think baby's breath (the tiny ones). They are all suitable funeral flowers.

White lilies in particular are apparently pretty popular funeral flowers in Japan, representing purity, elegance, virtue, that kind of thing. Pink roses are also used in funerals, representing love (though explicitly not romantic, I think), appreciation, gratitude, gentleness, etc. Finally, baby’s breath represents purity and innocence, and important to note, are usually used for the funerals of young children.

This is a surprise tool that will help us later-

Another thing to note is the name on Kotoko’s cap and jacket, Jacques Roulet. I’ve talked about it in this post, but if you don’t want to read the full story of Jacques Roulet, it’s about a man who claimed to be a werewolf, killed a child to eat him, and only stopped when two wolves scared him off. I couldn’t come to any definitive conclusions, but I think the best answer here is that Kotoko is one of the wolves who scared off Jacques, who in this case would be the serial killer Kotoko ends up killing. This would entail she had a partner in vigilantism, which is part of what gets me to believe that wolf buddy in the beginning is an actual person.

Finally, a fun fact about that stop sign to our left, that’s actually outdated lol. Stop signs in Japan used to be like that, but apparently from 2017 onwards they now display “stop” in Japanese and English, not just Japanese like in the MV. I doubt this means anything other than ‘the artist who drew this probably grew up with the old stop signs all their life and didn’t think much about it’, but it’s there. Oh, and if you want to really look at the symbolism, Kotoko could be said to be turning away from the stop sign, implying this is her “start.” Get it? Like the opposite of “stop.”

(And listen, I have to draw a line somewhere, I'm not talking about the trash bags and vending machine, etc)

(Girl do you want a chair)

Here we start to see how Kotoko spirals down, and begins to form more and more radical ideas in her search of justice. The articles she's reading are all speaking of different crimes, as these lyrics play.

Becoming light-headed again, it all becomes crazy The normalcy sought for, fading away, everytime death comes The soul moves forward

She's "becoming lightheaded" as she looks at these reports, sickened by the evil in the world. The status quo she's searching for, a world without evil, disappears as horrible people keep killing and hurting.

Yet, "the soul moves forward." Kotoko must find a way to keep going, must find a way to deal with the death and the evil. Both for the sake of "the normalcy sought for", and for the sake of her own feelings. And that is her vigilantism.

Let's go over what exactly she's seeing. I won't post full translations for most of these, you can go to this post by Maristelina which is nothing short of a God-send for that, but I'll give summaries. In order of appearance:

A man and a woman in their twenties stole a bag from another woman and drove off. They were caught on camera, so they were arrested and admitted to the police they sold what they stole to pay for food and drinks. They had a prior record of theft.

(Note: I've seen some theorize this could be Kotoko and someone else, and while it's an interesting possibility, I don't see much evidence for it, and the fact Kotoko is 20 in Milgram makes the timeline a bit wonky imo)

A man in his 30s deceived an 80 year old woman out of 500.000 yen by pretending to be a bank employee. Keep this one in mind.

A 46 year old man took over 200 upskirts photos of high school girls in public transport. One of his work colleagues claimed he'd been saying he was going to pick up his kids, and had no idea what he was actually doing. The man himself claims to have done it to escape the stress from work. Below the article, there are two comments... which Maristelina didn't translate, so I did my best but take the following two translations with a massive grain of salt because my ass does not know Japanese.

何やわんこいつ = What is this guy? 同僚のコメントおかしぃだろwwww = Your colleague's comment is funny hahahaha

Additionally, we later see two anonymous comments which follow the same style as these two, and thus I believe they're talking about this. These ones Maristelina did translate!

Anon on Top: It’s just stress, cut him some slack. Anon on bottom: People like this will just do it again.

(Note: That last one is one of the things which make me believe Kotoko was at least slightly influenced by the comments of other people online)

A man in Tokyo was arrested for stealing luxury bikes by figuring out their combination locks. The police will charge him with theft and other crimes soon.

A group of people have pulled off something called the "It's me" scam over 40 times (FNAF reference?). Basically they call someone, disguising their voice, claiming to be a family member or someone they know and asking for cash for an emergency. The article specifically talks about a 23 year old woman who lost a million yen to this scam.

Point is, there's a lot of crime going on.

Anyways, as the camera pans out, we see a tripod, which can be assumed to have a camera pointed at the investigation board. Since it's not a very good idea to record yourself planning to commit crimes and posting it online anywhere, my best guess for what Kotoko is doing with that is videochatting with someone specific? Maybe? That's why the wolf's eye sort of looks like a camera in the beginning? I'm trying, cut me some slack here. This is very possibly wrong, but I don't know what else to do with this tripod.

If you don't get what's going on here, basically these images flash on screen very quickly, in the order I put them in.

Let's start with the lyrics, which are easy:

I hate all the evils in this world I feel like I’m about to break The surrounding net covered with poison

Kotoko hates evil, she's this close to breaking down, she feels trapped in a net of poison. You get it.

The image flash is important, though. We see the "accident" I said was important before, alongside two things: a TV report I'll call the Street With Bushes Report (SWB report), and an article about white hoodie guy. The SWB report says:

Body Found near the Home of Another Female Victim. Possible Connection to Series of Murders of Girls The body was found near the home of another female victim, and the police are investigating a possible connection to a series of murders of girls committed by the same perpetrator.

And the article:

Shocking revelation: The heinous criminal behind the crime is the privileged son of a high-ranking official! Killed 10 people in just about 2 years. Victims are elementary school students. Hidden by a cover-up.

Presumably the SWB report is of one of this guy's murders. He killed 10 elementary school girls, dumped their bodies near their home, and it was hidden because his father was a high-ranking police officer. I imagine this is probably why Kotoko lost faith in the police and the judicional system as a whole.

However, you'll notice an interesting detail. We maybe actually get to see this victim, somewhat. That person with the white dress laying on their back on a wooden floor. The only other time we see them is at the very end, so I think it's possible they really are related to the SWB report.

But why are we getting so many details about this one murder? It's not connected to the "accident", since the street is different. Well, it's not something I can answer now, but take this idea that there's a second murder which Kotoko isn't necessarilly related to, but one she knows more in-depth than some of the other white hoodie murders.

I put a lot of images here because I gotta properly illustrate this. This scene, where we see a representation of Kotoko's mind, starts with her literally opening her eyes or "waking up", sort of similar to the wolf at the beginning. She's surrounded by wolves, looking around hesitantly. Like I said before, at the beginning of HARROW, Kotoko is still very unsure of herself, but here, surrounded by the wolves, she seems to finally find a purpose. That's why the scene ends with her focusing on the foggy path ahead and starting to run with the pack.

What I believe is happening here is that Kotoko believes she is beginning to understand just how much evil there is in the world, with the guidance of the wolves (again, possibly people online with radical views), and decides to follow them into the foggy path of vigilantism. Essentially, this is a representation of her radicalization. And it's scarily accurate, isn't it? Someone lost and vulnerable, who literally starts by being framed as the wolves' prey, thinks she finds an answer to her 'harrowing' situation. Even the imagery of "waking up" is pretty common for some of these types of communities.

This also vaguely mirrors the scene in Little Red Riding Hood where the titular character first meets the wolf, which presents itself as friendly while getting information of what the girl is doing. This imagery of Little Red Riding Hood will come up again, so.

One note is that the trees are dead, which not only shows how grim Kotoko's views on the world are, but can also see as symbols of death and rebirth. That's going to come into play later, though you could argue Kotoko's already been reborn by becoming radicalized. Additionally, the fog can represent a twisted or limited view on the world, cloudy thoughts, that sort of thing.

The lyrics aren't anything special, since they're the same as in the beginning.

Let’s end this! “HARROW” “HARROW” I can’t forgive the evil hurting the weak It’s unforgivable, I won’t allow it, I sweared How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it I’ll gouge you out with my fangs

Well that escalated quickly.

We actually see a lot of articles between when the chorus ends and when the verse begins, but they're mostly the same ones we've already seen (or Maristelina didn't translate them). However, that one I put in the collage is interesting. It talks about how a wanted thief named Mikio Oshii was beaten in the face, stomach and other areas by someone in a hood and using men's sneakers. Oshii was taken to the hospital, but there's no mention to whether or not he died.

And in the next scene, Kotoko scrolls through an article describing Mikio Oshii, which explains he had been the one to steal money from the elderly by pretending to be a bank employee.

Note that this guy has a face, possibly signifying importance. This is because this is the first big act of vigilantism Kotoko performs. Note she uses men's clothing because it throws off the police; the first article actually says the police narrowed down suspects only to men, so it clearly works.

However, Kotoko isn't looking to stop after one. She's still walking forward, the evils always lurking in the background. The lyrics as she beats up Oshii are:

I’ll teach you the pain you caused It’s a tie after saying sorry? What are you hoping for?!

And when she's walking along:

Shall we replace the poor soul, and the miserable delusion “I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?

It's evident something's changed in Kotoko. Before, she was asking herself "what is winning or losing?", now she seems to speak with authority on what a "tie" and a "win" are.

And what is a win in her eyes? Well, I believe it's when she "replaces the poor soul and miserable delusion." In other words, when she can get an evildoer to stop their acts of evil by "teaching them the pain they caused." That's why after they say "I won't do it again", Kotoko adds a win; how many in a row? Saying sorry isn't enough, of course, it's not even a tie; she needs to make sure they never engage in evil ever again.

So here's how I read this line:

Let's replace the evil monster with a respectable citizen. Saying sorry isn't enough, we need to teach them the pain they caused so they never do it again. And we hear them promise to stop over and over; how many times have we done this in a row?

Maybe there's other ways to interpret that, but we ball.

(This really makes me wonder what she would consider a "win" in Milgram, though. She doesn't even know what the people she attacks did, how would she know they would stop after getting beat up by her? Unless she straight up aimed to kill, which would stop them, but I believe she was probably going more for an incapacitation thing, otherwise I don't think Mahiru would have survived at all. Whatever, we'll presumably get an explanation in her second VD)

One question that comes up is what are the other "wins in a row"? However, we have genuinely no way to tell, so it's just an unknown for now.

Now, let's ask the big question of the scene. Did Oshii die in the hospital, or did Kotoko intentionally let him live? Well, I believe he survived. One, because there isn't much of a point to specify he was taken to the hospital if he did die. Two, because there is precedent of Kotoko being able to control her strength as to not kill her victim provided medical attention is adminestered (Mahiru), and if she didn't kill him in the moment, she presumably didn't want him dead. Three;

[TASK] (First VD) Kotoko: I did kill someone. [...]  what I did is, "facing an urgent and illegal infringement, an action taken out of necessity to protect the rights of myself and others".

Even beyond the wording of someone implying only one victim (and she most likely did kill the guy at the end), Kotoko was not facing an urgent infringement when she found Oshii, since he seems like he was just minding his bussiness when she got there. So it wouldn't be justifiable defense as she claims her murder was. Yes, it's possible she's lying, but I genuinely think there is at least an argument her murder was justifiable defense, as she's usually paired up with Yuno, Fuuta, Mahiru and Kazui (long story), and the most straightforward connection there is "their 'sin' would not be considered murder in a court of law." The other four didn't outright kill a human with their own hands, and Kotoko's would be considered "justifiable defense." Get it?

Undercover prisoner card? What are you talking about? Let me cope and ignore that.

Anyways, for now we can't be sure whether Oshii died or not, but I think he didn't. There's really no way to confirm though.

Finally, the scene ends with Kotoko finding the warehouses we'll see the serial killer take a victim into later. And yes, warehouses, plural. Go back and check; there are two warehouses connected to each other. I believe the warehouse complex might even be referenced in the whiteboards of the investigation room.

I have zero way of checking the Japanese, but none of the other marked locations in her whiteboards match multiple buildings being circled as one complex, which seems to be what these warehouses are.

Why is this important? It probably isn't. But my insanely deranged murder theory sorta requires the possibility there are multiple warehouses connected together in the same complex, so I'm introducing it now so I don't have to convince you of too many things at the same time.

Speaking of not important things, there's a 40 km/h speed limit sign, and a 'no parking' sign. Nothing too wild there, though I guess you could try to read into some kind of symbolism that Kotoko needs to slow down, but she's not gonna stop. That's insane even for my standards, but it's there.

Before we deal with the images, the lyrics are:

Whose fault is it This is getting ridiculous What should the punishment be?

Considering the fact all the images here are connected to the serial killer dude, that's probably referring to him. "Whose fault is it" that he keeps getting away with it. "This is getting ridiculous" because come on, how have the police not caught him yet? "What should the punishment be?" because if the police isn't gonna do anything about it, then she will, and she gets to decide how he'll be punished.

So what are we seeing? Let's ignore the TV report for now, because what is probably the most important article in the MV shows up here; the article with the serial killer that shows up.

“Since he was young, he has been aware of his environment, and his parents are satisfied. His thoughts are unknown,” according to the voices around him. He lives in a tower apartment located in the city. It seems that the suspect’s name (A) was not revealed, and no investigation was conducted based on his bodily fluids. According to sources, there may have been concealment due to his father’s pressure. The victim may have been run over by a car or killed by hand. However, due to the fact that suspect A is his son, there is a lack of consistency in the handling of the case.

Did you spot it?

The victim may have been run over by a car or killed by hand

In case you missed it, the police should be able to easily tell whether someone was ran over by a car, or they were killed by hand. This should not be difficult, though I can't confirm with sources, I'm pretty sure just looking at the injuries should be enough. And yet, they're unsure. But as the article says, there could be some foul play going on, since the guy is the son of an official.

Do you get it? If there's doubt of what happened, that's because the victim wasn't ran over. The police are trying to cover up a murder by claiming it was simply an accident, that way the killer can get away with simply a slap on the wrist. Which is interesting, because we already know this guy killed ten children, why is this murder and cover up so important?

Well, we do know of another "accident", don't we? And if you remember what I said about baby's breath the flower, you'll remember it's possible the victim of said "accident" was a child, which fits the profile of this guy's victims.

Thus, I believe if we're bringing attention to this murder in particular, that's because it's connected to the "accident" Kotoko is so fixated on. I believe the serial killer murdered someone close to Kotoko, and the police covered it up as an accident. And this is what kickstarted Kotoko's path to vigilantism.

This brings up the interesting possibility that Kotoko may have killed him out of a personal grudge, rather than simply to protect someone else. Don't get me wrong, she definitely wanted to protect the weak, that's her thing, but she could have done that without killing him, in theory. She hurt him to protect others; she may have killed him for revenge. At least, that's what I think.

Her justice isn't as blind as she makes it out to be, is it? Unreliable narrators, gotta love 'em-

And speaking of, subconciously twisting a supposedly strict moral system to justify killing someone for personal grudges? That reminds me a lot of another prisoner, but I will not allow Amane Momose to consume this post.

Anyways, that aside, there is actually another murder referenced in this scene. The one referenced in the TV, what I'll call the Highway report (not entirely sure it's a highway actually, but that's what it looks like to me).

New evidence in the case of the abandoned and murdered girl’s body? Report: Police (this afternoon) The same tire marks found at the scene where the victim’s body was discovered were found near the scene of the crime. The perpetrator likely abducted the victim in a car, killed her, and then abandoned her body in the vicinity of her home.

Note that the police are sure this one's a murder, presumably because there's no way to connect the white hoodie guy to it, so there's no need to cover that up. Because of that, and because again the street shown doesn't match either the "accident" street or the SWB report, this is a third murder Kotoko is oddly fixated on. Although we don't see the victim for this one. However, the whiteboard shown here doesn't actually match the whiteboards on Kotoko's room.

It's possible, then, that each of these whiteboards represent a different murder. And once again, we have the theme of three murders Kotoko has more knowledge of than the rest. Presumably, these are the murders Kotoko investigated deeply to figure out where the killer was taking his victims. Keep this idea of 'three important murders' in mind, with what Kotoko knows about them.

>She may have known the victim of the "accident" personally.

>She remembers seeing the victim of the SWB murder, the one with the white dress.

>She doesn't seem to know what the victim of the Highway murder looked like.

Anyways, the scene ends with Kotoko running forward, as we cut to another forest scene.

This one doesn't have much new stuff in terms of imagery, though there's three things worth noting. First, by now Kotoko is firmly running in front of the pack, so she's firmly one of them, unlike in the first chorus, where she was still figuring stuff out. Two, the waning moon is still there. Three, Kotoko's clothes haven't changed despite how much she's changed, which I talked about in the clothes' post and I believe represents how Kotoko doesn't realize how much her views are shifting as she hangs out with the "pack of wolves."

Timelines - 20/6/18 Kotoko: Treat you [Amane] like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today.

However, the lyrics are quite interesting.

Want to find “HARROW” “HARROW” I feel like I’m going crazy after straining my nerves The person that can’t be saved, is now understanding the abnormality How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it I want gouge you out with my fangs

I've already talked about the second part, but the first one is new. At first it doesn't seem like anything special; we already knew Kotoko was "going crazy after straining her nerves", again becoming sickened by the evil in the world.

But then there's "the person that can't be saved, is now understanding the abnormality." Which seems to mirror the earlier line:

The normalcy sought for, fading away, every time death comes.

As stated before, Kotoko sees a "normal" world as one without evil. But as she saw more and more crime happening around her, she "begun to understand the abnormality", she begun to understand how much evil there was in the world.

But the person who begins to understand the abnormality "can't be saved." Which seems to imply Kotoko considers herself impossible to save. She's far too sickened by the world to feel anything but awful, she feels nothing will ever make her feel good with her life.

Friendly reminder that Anti-Beat, her Trial 1 cover song, is extremely depressing. CW suicidal ideations

[Anti-Beat] Anti Beat I just want to die already, So I can finally be at ease Anti Beat But all I know is pain And there’s nowhere to run Anti Beat

CW over

So yeah, she's extremely sad, and doesn't think anything will make her feel good. That's why she clings so hard to vigilantism; as we'll soon see, it's the only way she's found she can feel good about her life. Yeah, it's sad.

As the bridge plays, we get to see the last few investigative actions Kotoko performs. She shows some dude possibly named "Kaneshiro Ken'otoko" something on her phone, then pays him 10k yen (around $100) for him to... do something. He works for "Shoko Newspaper Corporation" (Shoko is just a woman's name), and is an external director. Well, that's not a real term, but it's probably meant to mean outside director? A member of a company's board of directors who is not an employee or stakeholder in the company. I don't know how important that is, though. Point is, it seems he's pretty high up in a newspaper company, and thus likely has some kind of information Kotoko finds useful. Presumably that's how she found the warehouse complex in the first place.

And then, Kotoko sees the killer take a child with orange overalls into one of the warehouses. I'm going to ask you to pay attention to three things (at this point I'm starting to feel like a Playmaker from Yugioh kinnie). First, the guy has put up a sign to seemingly close down the entire complex, either implying it's completely abandoned or he owns the entire place. This implies he can be relatively confident no one will enter the complex until he's done with his victim. Second, the walls have verticals lines on the walls and vertical bars on the windows. Third, Kotoko is wearing her blue and yellow jacket + cap, and the girl's hands are unbound.

We'll get to why these things are important (to me and no one else) later.

And this is a really weird thing to put here. Although we just saw Kotoko witnessing a crime, we see her slowing down, getting tired and discouraged. It's almost like she's going back to doubting herself, see the lyrics:

Newly born “HARROW” “HARROW” It’s ok to dislike, right? Losing it, losing it. What should I hope for?

She's 'newly born' since she recently underwent some pretty big changes, but she's still distressed. She's doubting whether or not she's allowed to hate evil/the hoodie guy as much as she does, and questions what she even wants to do, what outcome she hopes for.

But the doubt doesn't last long. One of the wolves, possibly the one from the beginning she's particularly close to, smiles at her as this line plays:

Goodnight “HARROW” “HARROW” Laugh and I can get to like myself

Goodnight, because something's about to end, there's a big change looming. She will now "laugh" to "get to like herself." As stated, Kotoko feels deeply dissatisfied with her life, and her vigilantism is the only thing she has which makes her feel good about herself. Kotoko literally laughs after she says that, because her vigilantism is about to reach a climax. She will now kill the man who caused so much suffering, to others, and to her, by killing the victim of the "accident."

So what was up with that hesitation at the beginning? Well, uh. I'll get there in the murder theory. Let's go to the final scene.

Lyrics first since it's the easier part, as most of them are repeated.

Let’s end this! “HARROW” “HARROW” I can’t forgive the evil hurting the weak It’s unforgivable, I won’t allow it, I just can’t let it go How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it I want gouge you out with my fangs

The only notable thing is the addition at the very end.

I want to be drowning in the knowledge that I am right

Basically what we've heard before. As Kotoko is very unhappy with herself usually, she finds worth in herself by protecting the weak, which requires "the knowledge she's right" to do the things she does. She wants to feel sure of herself, which as stated is one of the reasons she engages in vigilantism.

As for the visual symbolism, I talked in the clothes post about how Kotoko undergoes a pretty big change here. She's reborn. Remember how the forest scenes always had a waning moon? Well, this one has a full moon, representing the end of a cycle, rebirth. The same sybolism is found by the fact dawn breaks there, again showing rebirth. This also connects to Red Riding Hood symbolism, etc.

This idea of rebirth is even further implied by the fact we see a wolf with her neon pink smile take its place in the investigation room. Kotoko, with the full moon like a werewolf, has become just like the rest of the wolves. She's changed for good.

One other note, you see that one shot where we see the killer's smiling shadow? Doesn't it look like his mouth casts a shadow like a wolf's snout?

If you squint, yeah, I think so. This, and the fact he kills children, is what makes me think he's "Jacques Roulet" getting chased off by the two wolves (Kotoko and wolf buddy) in that metaphor. Not entirely confident I know what the deal with this is, but you know.

Okay so the symbolism is all good, but now we have to get to the really weird part of all of this. Which is, what the fuck is actually happening in her murder? Let's get to the most speculative part of this post, the one which will most likely be outdated by the time Deep Cover releases lol.

(Unhinged) Murder Theory

First Problem: The Time Gap

So it's pretty well known that Kotoko's clothes mysteriously change between when she sees the kidnapping outside, and when she actually goes attack the dude. She sees the kidnapping happen with her blue and yellow jacket, but she kills the dude with her red hoodie. This isn't even the only indication that some time has passed. We can also see the girl's hands are bound and her shoes are off on the floor, so there were at least a few minutes the killer had to do that. Additionally, the lighting slightly changes between Kotoko seeing the event and the murder ending.

Okay the change is actually subtle enough I could believe it just took her a few minutes to finish off the guy, but it is there.

So I believe some time passed. Clearly not much, since the lighting shift isn't too radical, but there's at least a few minutes between when Kotoko sees the kidnapping and when she rushes in.

And I believe we can get a vague idea of what happened, by looking at the scene in between these two things. Which you'll remember, is the scene in the forest where Kotoko slows down and hesitates, before being encouraged by the wolf again. Essentially, after seeing the guy commit a crime right in front of her, Kotoko briefly hesitated, and maybe rushed back to her investigation room or somewhere else. Perhaps she considered just calling the police, perhaps she was paralyzed by the trauma of the "accident", whatever the case, Kotoko couldn't get herself to immediately rush in. However, maybe she called her partner in vigilantism, that wolf she seems particularly close to, and they encouraged her to go in and do her thing.

Is this a good answer? Fuck no, but it's undeniable some time passed, so until we get Deep Cover, this is the best explanation I can come up with as to why that happened. The point is, there's a time gap between the kidnapping and the attack. Keep that in mind.

Second Issue: Different Warehouse

The warehouse Kotoko kills the guy in has bricks which form both vertical and horizontal lines on the walls, and the window has a horizontal and diagonal bars instead of just vertical. It's a different warehouse. Thankfully, though, this is pretty easily solved by what I mentioned before; the killer didn't block off access to just one warehouse, but to the entire complex.

Thus, it's perfectly possible he just took the kid through one warehouse and into another one. This is simply more indication that there really was a time gap between the kidnapping and Kotoko's attack.

However, there's a huge problem. Not only is the girl nowhere to be seen in the last shot, this isn't the room the kid was in. That one's a lot smaller.

Biggest Issue: The Nonsensicality of the Attack

The first thing I want to address; I don't think Kotoko ever worked with this killer. It goes against pretty much her entire character, and as mentioned, I'm pretty sure she has a personal grudge agaisnt him. There is reason to believe otherwise, you can find other posts around talking about it, and you can actually see two hammers on the floor in that scene, which I don't have a great answer for. However, it just doesn't seem like it makes much sense. And yet, there's so many weird things about Kotoko's initial attack in this wooden floor room.

>As mentioned, the room of this scene isn't where the guy actually died.

>The guy is standing on one of the hammers, seemingly not doing anything.

>He doesn't react to Kotoko entering at all beyond simply turning his head a bit, which doesn't seem appropriate even if he was working with her.

>The girl also doesn't react to Kotoko slamming the door open.

>The toolbox appears to be empty, though this isn't too big of an issue.

>Kotoko reaches for him with her right hand, but later we see her grabbing his hoodie with her left hand.

You could argue she turned him around with her right, then grabbed him, but that doesn't make much sense. Why not tackle him to the floor while his back is turned?

Well, to answer what's going on here, I think we need to look at the other scenes where this room appears, and notice they also don't make sense.

How does Kotoko remember these events? As I said, it doesn't make sense for her to have been working with the killer, but that's not all. The last one in particular is extremely impossible. Kotoko is nowhere to be seen in the room (unless she's the girl there, but I don't think so), and there's nowhere she could be where she doesn't cast a shadow or show up on the shot.

Well... I have an answer, but it's sort of insane. Kotoko shouldn't remember these events, so she doesn't.

Unhinged Hypothesis #1: These Scenes Are All Kotoko's Imagination

Alright hear me out. I think Kotoko saw this room at one point, but only when she went to rescue the orange overall girl. The rest of the scenes are her filling in the blanks with what she knows. When she saved the orange overall girl, she saw what the room looked like, the toolbox and weapons the killer was using to torture the girls with, and just imagined the rest.

And why do I say this? Well, apart from the aforementioned nonsensicality of the situation, remember those three murders I mentioned earlier? The ones Kotoko knows the most about?

>She may have known the victim of the "accident" personally. >She remembers seeing the victim of the SWB murder, the one with the white dress. >She doesn't seem to know what the victim of the Highway murder looked like.

Does this ring a bell? Because it matches the scenes of the room with the wooden floor, aside from the occassion with the orange overall girl obviously. We have:

>One shot of the killer attacking a victim out of frame, a victim Kotoko knows exists, but one she can't visualize. This would be the Highway victim, the one Kotoko never saw.

>The girl (because the report specifies it's a woman and it may be connected to the murder of other girls) with the white dress, as stated is likely the victim of the SWB murder. It's possible Kotoko got a glimpse of her corpse being carried away, which is why she only remembers a portion of her body covered by a white dress.

>And finally, the last shot of these we get, book-ending the image flash which starts with an image of the "accident" sign, is of a girl which Kotoko remembers in full. And it's a girl who looks like she could be elementary school age if you look at her at the right angle, so she likely is one of the dead girls. And it's a girl who looks suspiciously similar to Kotoko, perhaps a younger sister, a cousin? This is the victim of the "accident", I believe.

With this, it's possible Kotoko is simply imagining these things based on what she knows after seeing the murder room when she went to rescue the orange overall girl.

Am I confident in this claim? Not really, I'm decently sure it will be deconfrimed in Deep Cover, but for now I'm running with it so I can have something.

But why is this important? Well, apart from explaining how these scenes would be in the MV without having to assume Kotoko worked with the murderer, it also throws into question anything we see in these scenes. If you've been paying attention, you'll have realized Kotoko is not a particularly reliable narrator; see the "justice is blind" thing from the beginning, the non-changing clothes in the mind space, etc. And now, we're wondering if maybe, just maybe, that scene where she enters the wooden floor room and attacks the killer didn't play out how she's presenting it to us.

Unhinged Hypothesis #2: When Kotoko Found the Girl, the Killer Wasn't in the Room

Let me draw your attention to the distorted quote in her Trial 2 Voice Reveal.

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Going by the pattern these things follow, this should be something Kotoko says before her murder. But, who is she saying it to? Looking at the context, it really seems like she's talking to an 'useless weakling' who is pushing against Kotoko's decisions. But, with the information we have so far, the only 'useless weakling' Kotoko could be talking to... is the orange overall girl. None of the other characters shown in HARROW really fit that description.

But how the hell would that happen? By the time Kotoko gets close enough to talk to her, she's suppossedly already attacking the serial killer. And yet, if you hear the quote, she doesn't sound winded or anything during the quote, she doesn't sound like she's fighting the dude. This implies there may have been some time before the murder when Kotoko could talk to the girl, but the killer wasn't there.

So we go back to what we have. The killer has no reason to think anyone will enter the warehouse complex, so he could perfectly leave for a moment to do something. By the time the killer is dead, the girl is nowehere to be seen, it's possible she's been untied and has ran away. And Kotoko's views of the events in the wooden floor room are not to be trusted. She sees herself as saving the girl from an immediate threat of danger, but that may not have been the case.

Heavy Speculation Incoming

My vision here is that Kotoko, after changing and coming back, found the girl in the wooden floor room alongside the toolbox and stuff, and untied her. After getting a bit of an explanation, she hears the murderer will probably come back soon, and decides to wait for him, so she can enact justice. Remember, this is personal; she doesn't just want to save this girl, she wants the guy dead.

Upon hearing this, the girl tries to convince her not to do that. It would be better to call the police and let them deal with it, right? But Kotoko obviously doesn't expect that to work, so she tells her she needs to kill the guy herself. The girl tries to talk her out of it, saying she doesn't understand, and that's where we get the Voice Reveal line. Kotoko never asked for her understanding; her actions are bringing Earth closer to justice, so 'useless weaklings' like the girl should shut up and listen to her.

At this point, you'll notice I'm practically just writing fanfiction. I have very little evidence for most of this, it's more just me trying to come up with some kind of explanation for all the seemingly contradicting evidence we have.

Though there is one more thing Kotoko being in the final warehouse before the killer would... somewhat kinda explain if you squint; the cap on the floor.

Listen. There is, like, no good explanation for why the fuck that's there. People don't just leave caps on the floor, no matter what they're doing. However, ignoring for a moment the why it's on the floor, let's look at the how. If the killer was already in the warehouse when Kotoko went in, there's no real way the cap would end up there. Kotoko has her hood up during the entire attack until the guy's already dead, so it couldn't have fallen off if she was wearing the cap under the hood for some reason. If she came in with it in her hand, for some reason, she would have to drop it before attacking him (see: grabbing him with her left hand then hitting him with her right), but she would drop it before reaching him; the cap wouldn't end up so close to them. Putting it in her pocket would be insane, and also wouldn't exactly explain how it would fall off and land upright either.

Thus, the only way I can think of to explain how it ended up there, is if it was already on the floor, then the killer went to inspect it or something, and that's when Kotoko attacked him. Again, no idea why Kotoko would just leave the cap there, but it's what I think makes the most sense, physically speaking.

Thus, Kotoko was in that warehouse before the killer, or like I'm claiming, the killer went away, Kotoko went in, waited for him, he returned, got distracted by the cap and went to investigate, got attacked by Kotoko.

Closing Argument

+Kotoko sees the man taking the orange overall girl into the warehouse complex, with him having put up a sign to close off the complex to the public.

+For some reason, she becomes discouraged and goes away for a moment, doubting what she should do. She's encouraged by her wolf buddy to go kill the dude, she changes into her murder fit, and goes back just a few minutes later. Meanwhile, the killer takes the girl to a small room in another warehouse connected to the first one, binds her hands and takes her shoes off... for some reason.

+The killer leaves for a moment for God knows what reason, Kotoko comes back and finds the girl, unties her. Thanks to what she sees in that room, she forms a mental image of what the other murders looked like.

+Kotoko decides to wait for the killer to come back, leaving her Jacques Roulet cap on the floor... as bait or something I don't know. The girl tries to convince her not to do that, but Kotoko refuses to listen. Cue T2 Voice Reveal line.

+The killer comes back, sees the cap on the floor, and gets closer to investigate. Since he's distracted, Kotoko takes the chance to run up to him. He turns around right before she reaches him, and before he can react, Kotoko grabs his hoodie with her left hand, and punches him with her right. He falls to the floor, and Kotoko starts beating him to death as the girl runs away. However, since he arrived while the girl was still in the scene, Kotoko can claim it was justifiable defense of either the girl or herself.

... Yeah this is completely fucking insane. This is most likely wrong, so don't be surprised when Deep Cover comes out and deconfirms it. However, I do think some of what I said has a chance of being accurate, so I'm putting it out there so I can pretend to be smart and stuff if it turns out some of this is right.

(Can you believe that's not even the most insane murder theory I've ever done? Like, at least I didn't bring in an accomplice and several pulley systems, or made a wire circuit extending throughout the entirety of a room, both things I've done for another fandom. Yeah, my brainrot runs deep)

Conclusion

Well that last part was a bit of a mess. I hope you can forgive my insanity, and that you still took something out of the rest of the analysis if not the murder theory. I'm really excited to see what Deep Cover has in store for us, Kotoko is a very interesting character. Anyways, if you made it this far, then I think you deserve your own wolf buddy! Though be careful, and don't listen to it when it tells you to kill. Take care!

[scolbert22]

Tutor's Pet

@brandedx2 requested "BRAWNY FOOTBALL PLAYER IN A HAMSTER CAGE PLEASE" (Talk about microfiction lol)

Grant was a little apprehensive about being the new tutor for the football team, but Coach Anthony had hardly given him a choice in the matter. Them short, sandy haired otter was kind of a pushover, and the older man had sensed weakness in him. Long story short, there he was, knocking Tank's door.

Travis "Tank" O'Neil was a 6'5, 310 pound offensive lineman. He had a fiery copper mohawk, with a heavy brow and beard to match. He was the terror of the English department, as he was both barely literate, and mean as hell. He'd sent more than one tutor to the ER. The towering behemoth was wearing his green and white jersey and a pair of jeans when he opened the door roughly, his eyeline high above Grant's head. He looked down, regarding his next punching bag.

Grant Conners was about 5'6, he had wide blue eyes hidden behind large glasses, and a sandy goatee. in his college sweater, khakis, and high tops painted the picture of a meek bookworm.

"You the one who's gonna keep me from failing?" Tank grunted down at him in his rumbling voice.

"Uh...w-well I am certainly going to do my best!" Grant chirped up with an optimism he did not feel.

Tank laughed cruelly. "Well you better do more than try, little man. 'less you want me to rearrange that pretty little face." he reached down with one of his baseball mitt hands and pinched the little guy's cheek. Grant cringed in pain.

As he followed his charge in, Grant noticed that he was drinking from a plastic bottle of green liquid. It seemed to glow in the light. He noticed that the outside of the bottle was covered in some Cyrillic language, but he couldn't be sure what.

He sat down on a rickety chair across from Tank's bed, where the giant took his seat with a manly grunt. Pulling Jane Eyre out of his bag, He tried to make some pleasant conversation to ease his way in.

"Oh what are you drinking?" He smiled brightly.

"It's some shit I found on the body building forums, supposed to make me swole as fuck." He grunted before downing the last of it. "Shit's not FDA approved but I can already feel it giving me more energy- BWWWARRRP" The ginger goliath belched loudly in his tutor's face.

"Oh! Uh, alright!" Not sure what to say, he pushed forward. "Well, Coach says that you're struggling in your English lit class. Are you struggling with the archaic language? Or is it more the themes of the novel?"

"I don't struggle with anything runt. I'm a champion." Tank growled. "The problem is that it's boring as shit, Who cares about this lame bitch wandering around a stupid old house?" The giant burped again, even longer this time. Grant turned away, trying to hid his disgust. As he did, he noticed a wire cage with a large water bottle hanging from it.

"Oh do you have a hamster?" He tried valiantly to change the subject.

"Had one. Then it bit me." Tank smirked, looking toward the open window. Grant gulped.

"Ah! I see! Well, back to Jane Eyre-" He started, but he was cut off by another explosive belch. He regarded the gassy lineman across from him. Were his clothes looking a little....looser?

"Travis, are you feeling okay?"" he asked.

"My name is BRAAAAAAWWWWP Tank you fuckin cumstain. And I've BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWP never felt better." Tank did his est to menace his tutor, but the uncontrollable burping undermined it somewhat. Additionally, Grant was sure now that Tank was getting smaller. They were nearly eye-level now, and Grant had an experiment he wanted to try.

He reached forward, quick as a flash, and placed his hand on the center of Tank's musclegut. He pressed firmly.

"What the fuck are you doing you little- BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWP!" Tank roared, and belched helplessly against the pressure his would-be victim applied to his solid tummy. He shrank more rapidly now, his feet dangling from the side of the bed. He leapt up in an attempt to tower over Grant, shouting "Quit it dickhead!" This posturing backfired immediately.

The dwindling ginger realized that the top of his head barely reached Grant's chin. His jeans slid to the floor, leaving him in his oversized jersey and his lucky jockstrap.

Grant's eyes lit up. "Well, what's this?" He laughed, peeling the jersey off his pasty, freckled body and tossing it to the floor. He grabbed both sides of the jock and lifted him up like he was in a bungie swing. "How's the weather down there?"

Tanks legs kicked helplessly as he bounced in his dingy jock. "Stop it dude, please!" His voice was higher now, and a twinge of fear had replaced the cocky aggression.

Grant laughed in reply, poking his gut merrily. "Boop!" He declared in a sing song voice.

Tank replied with a belch that rose a few octaves as his size dwindled from "underdeveloped freshman" to "chunky housecat". He dangled helplessly, looking like he was about to cry.

"Please man, I'm beggin' you!" He whimpered, sniffling.

"You know, my friend Michael begged too, when you pushed him downstairs and broke his leg." Grant growled, slapping his belly pink.

The ricochet of burps that followed caused him shrink

down,

down,

down.

He finally settled at about 6 inches tall.

Finally, he felt less bloated.

the former giant curled up in the musky pouch of his own jock, whimpering and blubbering pathetically.

Grant laughed, carrying him over to the vacant hamster cage.

"Don't worry little fella! I'm a much better pet owner than you!" He dumped the naked jock into the enclosure, tossing the jock on top of his discarded clothes. "Now run on that wheel until I say stop, or I'll give you the hamster treatment."

The red faced little man didn't need telling twice. He got up to his feet immediately, panting and whimpering in fear. His squeaky little voice breathlessly shouting "Yes Sir"s and "Please don't hurt me!"s.

Grant kicked back in the giant's old bed. He was just about to finish out the rest of their tutoring session watching his new little pet when there was a stern knock at the door.

Frantically, Grant leapt to his feet. He grabbed the jersey off the floor and draped it over his jock cage, kicking the rest of his clothes under the bed. In his haste, he caught his toe on the minifridge door, knocking it open and biting his finger to prevent from crying out. He hobbled quietly toward the door.

Glancing through the peephole, he saw Coach Anthony. The greying muscle bear was in his track jacket and short shorts, checking his watch impatiently with his cold, silvery eyes.

"Tank, you better not be pulverizing another one of those little geeks, or its 20 laps for you!" the gruff man shouted through the door.

Glancing around in panic, Grant's eyes settled on the minifridge he'd kicked open. It was full to the brim with bottles of that strange black market drink. A grin spread across his face. He opened the door.

"Hello Coach! Travis is in the bathroom, but he's really taking to the material!"

Coach looked unconvinced. "Really?" he snorted. "I've never seen Tank take to anything that didn't involve tackling a freshman."

"Well, I don't want to brag but I really think that he's turned over a brand new leaf! Why don't you stay a minute and see? Can I get you something to drink?"

Coach considered for a moment. "Ah why the hell not! Why don't you toss me one of them Gatorades in the fridge? Tank's a big boy, but he won't miss one."