#i have no idea if i actually answered the question

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

**

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

[crepezinhos]

I have to say I really fell in love on your writting. I just discovered you by the Check mate(? Fic and oh- i can't read any other fics now... I beg you to keep writting new ideas or continue your stories (I really would like to see another part of 'Purity' just if it's possible). Thank you for feeding us well ☺️✨️🎀

Innocent Lesson

(REQUEST #7) POV: At one point in Scaramouche’s life, when he was still an absurdly innocent creature, completely unaware of how humans worked, he learned what was sex and how to do it with someone. How was that moment like for poor, little Kabukimono that didn’t even know how to pick something with his hands?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Kabukimono has no sexual knowledge at all but this does not mean I’m trying to make him 'more childish' in any way.

— Sub!Virgin!Scara

“Y/N-sama…” You heard the puppet call you from behind in a particular low, embarrassed voice tone.

Kabukimono, or Kabuki-kun just for you, was a hard thing to explain. He was a puppet prototype that was abandoned in the Shakkei Pavillion that really resembled normal male human being. It was still pretty obvious that he wasn’t really one since he was so incredibly stupid and unaware of the world around him worked, to a point where he didn’t know how to swallow water, although he really tries to be associated with one. This weird behavior of him made most men in the furnace where you work naturally reach into the conclusion that you should be the one responsible for him just because you were the only ‘mother figure’ that he could have in the place for being the only woman there. Eventually you two became friends rather than family and he started living with you in your apartment, which helped you quickly learn the pattern of his obvious behaviors.

That specific voice tone usually meant that he had an embarrassing question to ask you. You were used to them, although they could be troubling to answer sometimes. Like, how are you supposed to teach him the concept of breathing to him and why do humans do it? At least, the intelligence of his questions would improve the more he learned about the world around him, so you were never once annoyed by these questions.

“Yes?” You answered as you turned around to look at him and stopped folding some clothes that had just finished drying in your house on top of your bed.

“I… I have a question…” He initiated as expected, but didn’t have a lot of courage to continue. “Do you promise to not make fun of me like the other miners did?” He asked in pure need of reassurance, his cheeks going pink as he rubbed his hands together in the corner of the room’s door.

“Yeah! What is it?” You asked excited, putting your hands in your knees to make sure he knew you were paying attention to him.

But he didn’t say anything back to you. Kabukimono actually seemed to be really troubled to get his words out of his mouth despite your approval. It was written all over his face that he was embarrassed about it, which made you decide to simply wait for him.

And while biting his own inferior lip and avoiding eye contact, he finally breathed in and out and used a hand and his eyes to point right at something in you.

“What are those..?” He asked, and your eyes instinctually followed where his finger was pointing at, only to realize he was shamelessly pointing at the trough of your breasts.

“Oh..!” You reacted, a little taken aback, but still willing to answer his question as you used your own hands to point at your breasts too. “These..?” You asked, holding back a giggle in the back of your throat.

“Y-Yes… those two… things…” He finally found courage to refer to your breasts with an actual name.

You couldn’t help but break your little promise to him, using a hand to cover your giggling mouth.

“H-Hey! You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” He instantly protested at your laughter.

“Sorry, sorry…” You quickly swallowed all the remaining giggles down your throat as and moved your hands back to your breasts. “You really mean these?” You groped both your breasts softly, genuinely trying to understand him.

“Yes… those... the other forgers call them b-… boogs..?” He made another question, but his own little knowledge made him get too embarrassed to make eye contact with you or your breasts again, almost fully hiding his body behind the wall.

“They’re called boobs, but you can also call them breasts, honkers… whatever you like! The forgers can easily tell you all the possible names for these if you ask them…” You explained with a smile, trying to get him more comfortable with his own curiosity.

“W-Why do they have so many names..? And why don’t I have them?!” He asked, exposing his full face out of the corner of the door and beginning to get inside the room. His curiosity was too much for him to keep hiding himself.

“Because only girls have them! They are made to feed babies when they’re still too young.” You continued your explanation, making Kabuki’s eyes open more and more the more information you revealed to him, and also making his slow walk towards you more confidently.

“Feed babies..? B-But how?” He asked, kneeing right in front of you, his face already leaning the closest it could to your breasts as if he was trying to figure out how they looked like.

You gently grabbed his chin and pulled it upwards so he could stare at you instead of your breasts. Although you knew there was no bad intentions inside that empty head of his, you still didn’t feel comfortable with a male creature that close to them, especially one that was almost like a male human being. At least he didn’t mind your command and allowed his head to rise until his eyes met yours again.

“You know how babies need to drink a lot of milk when they’re still newborns? To make that an easier task to do, the female body produces and stores a good amount of milk inside them on their own for when they have babies, so that’s why they are this big! Uh… do you know what a nipple is?” You asked a little embarrassed, after all the topic of the conversation was really weird, but at least a Kabukimono was hearing your words very attentively and respectfully and nodded very excited for more. “Yeah, so, the babies get that milk by sucking it out of them with their mouths! Makes sense, doesn’t it?” You explained it all, a little proud of your own basic knowledge about your own kind of body, using a few hand gestures to emphasize the core parts of your explanation.

“Oh, wow… I thought babies had to drink milk from cows… but what if you don’t ever have a baby..?” He rose his upper body back to normal, a little worried at that piece that seemed out of the place in that newest puzzle you were giving to him as he fidgeted his own hands again.

“Well… they’ll just forever exist in my body then!” You giggled at the silliness of your own answer.

“Hm…” He looked away for a second, trying to piece all that new information together in is head. “And how do they look..?” That question made your eyes widen a little.

Did he really just ask you to show your boobs to him?

Poor Kabukimono… he was so unaware of the absurdity of what he just said... Not because you found it rude or wrong, but because you two were never intimate in that way. You never even thought about being more than friends with the boy.

“Oh, c’mon, show them to me! It can’t be bad anyway!”

A tie formed in your throat. Although his goofy grin reassured you that he really wasn’t a pervert, you couldn’t help but make you remember some unpleasant flashbacks. Being the only woman working in the furnace has its many bad sides, and one of the mains ones includes the forgers themselves. All the people working in the furnace made the sacrifice of leaving the town of Inazuma, where most people and the Archon resides, and probably their families too, just to work on the mines. To make things worse, Tatarasuna is a completely distant island with no other civilization rather than those mines, so everyone in there is unfortunately very far from any other kind of people in Inazuma. That means you are literally the only woman in the area that those men see, which also means they all look up to you when hormones starts acting up on them.

A guy asking you out for a ‘drink’ was a daily thing to you now, and most of these really just had the intentions of having a night of sex with you. Most of the times you rejected them. Only a few ones got a ‘yes’ out of you, but that would usually end up in other men asking you why did you reject them or praising the man for sleeping with you it while you got no sort of celebration and even insulted for being ‘easy to fuck’. These many disappointments led you to stop hanging out with the men in there and even start viewing them negatively in that sexual way, locking all those needs that you had in a deep corner of your heart that are only released when you use your fingers to pleasure yourself.

But for some reason, you don’t feel that nervous and repulsive with Kabukimono asking that at all, who was probably the man that had done the most absurd request to you yet. Actually, you always viewed him as a friend or a miracle that happened to fall right in your arms, so you never thought of him like a lover, or someone that could see you naked in the first place.

But why thinking about him as one of those now doesn’t make you even slightly uncomfortable?

“You wanna see how they look under my clothes?” Your smile died off a little as you still decided what you should do with the puppet boy.

“Yes! Can I?” He asked like a little kid would, which made your smile grow some extra inches again.

Kabukimono really wasn’t a bad man, was he? He simply wants to know what’s under your shirt, is that so wrong to ask for? Why would you ever say no to such a good-intended angel?

“Sure…” Your hands gently reached down to the tie of your kimono, located in your waist.

Since you were about to sleep, you weren’t wearing any sort of underwear, which meant that you had to was open the ends of the kimono and let it fall in the ground naturally. And as soon as the chilly breeze of Inazuma was hitting your warmed breasts again, Kabukimono’s pearly eyes shone with that newest view like he was miring at diamonds.

“W… wow…” You heard him mumble to himself as his face got some inches closer to them again as if he had completely forgotten of the fact you had already given him limits. His mouth dropped like he would begin drooling at any point from now on.

But now you didn’t really mind that extreme closure between you two now, did you?

“They look… weird.” You've never been so easily turned off with a single comment as this one.

You did mind it, yeah.

His curious expression also died a little, now looking neutral and unbothered, not even a little bit ashamed in expressing his honesty towards what he thought of your boobs, which made you instantly back away and pull your kimono up again until your nipples were fully covered from him. He went back to a confused state, but before he could say anything, you stood up for yourself.

“Don’t say that, Kabuki. That’s a very, very wrong thing to say to a lady.” You scolded him, which made him instantly cover his mouth in regret of what he had done.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad!” He immediately apologized, leaning his hands up just to shake them side to side, trying to get you to forgive him as quick as possible.

You couldn’t help but let a little grin reshape the lips of your mouth again. He was really just a little dumber than an average human being, wasn't he? If you taught him the right thing to do and say, he would do it for the rest of his life, would he?

“Don’t you ever insult a woman’s body like that again, you understand? This is something very difficult for me to do, so be grateful for the opportunity I’m giving you, ok?” You let go one of your hands from the kimono, still holding it up with the other, just to flick his forehead with your middle finger’s nail.

“Y-Yes, of course! I don’t find your boobs weird, Y/N-sama! T-They're really pretty!” Kabukimono smacked both his hands in the floor and bowed his entire body to you while shaking his head, agreeing with the newest rule you gave him.

“There's no need to bow, Kabuki... now come here again.” You whispered close to the boy's ears, which made him slowly rise his whole body again until it was in the same angle as yours.

The hand you left holding your kimono was taken away from its place, letting him mire the view of your breasts once again. A silence took over the room, one that wasn't embarrassing to him, but surely was to you. Kabukimono would simply stare at your boobs from different angles, trying to understand their entirety with a goofy curious facial expression, while you did nothing, which pressured you to break the ice.

“Do you… want to fondle them?” You asked fighting your own embarrassment, but also getting a little sparked up with the situation you were willing to put the both of you in.

It would be hard to convince someone so innocent like him to do something so out of his level of comprehension and teach him step-by-step about it... but you couldn't deny your own growing curiosity about his body deep down in your heart. You still remembered the sensation of touching Kabukimono's hands in his first days in the mine. They were incredibly soft, like you were touching a slightly hard pillow, but unfortunately some of its perfection was ruined due to the manual work he had to do in the mines, hammering swords, ores, carrying boxes... but he had to do it if he wanted to have a bed to sleep on, or food in his plate, so you coudln’t blame him.

How would those soft hands feel like while massaging your breasts they enjoyed to be massaged?

“F-Fondle them..?” He asked, raising his eyes up to stare at you, looking visibly confused. “Why?”

“Don’t you want to know how they feel?” You asked, fondling your left boob softly on your own in his front to give him a short preview of what you were talking about.

“I-I… yes, but… I don’t know how to do it, Y/N-sama…” He argued pessimistically, bonding his two hands again to fidget them in anxiety.

“There’s not really a right way to do it, Kabuki-kun, just do what comes to your mind... or what comes to my mind.” You replied more optimistically, reaching both your hands to separate his own hands, and starting to pull them slowly in direction of your needy boobs.

His entire body froze at your initiative, shivers running down his spine, blood running to his cheeks and his breathing even locking itself on his thorat just to process your actions, although he didn’t even need to do that according to himself. But that didn't stop his fingers from spreading all open to be able to have them placed where you wished them to be placed at.

And the deed was done. Kabukimono's pillow-like palms were now oficially holding both your boobs with yours on top of his to control his first, initial moments of that interaction you were introducing him to.

While he didn’t find courage to move his hands, he did have the strength to mumble some syllables every now and then, completely melted by your actions.

“Don’t worry, Kabuki-kun…” Your knees hopped closer his body, leaning your head close to his ear again. “Just close your eyes and move your hands around as you wish to... I'll help you if you wish me to.” Your flirty voice made his ears twitch in growing arousal.

The same growing arousal that managed to overcome his embarrasment as you saw the puppet gulp all the saliva resting in his mouth and close his eyes shut, relaxing his hands to let them be controlled by yours.

The first thing you did was to tighten your grip on his hands, forcing him to do the same to your boobs, which made your throat hum in pleasure of feeling such softness massaging your boobs after so many months untouched by a man. You hated the other men's hands felt against them. Hard palms who were usually stained by the black ink of coal, completely mistreated nails and calluses everywhere, playing with your boobs the way they liked it and completely obnoxious to your needs, sometimes even causing you to experience pain when they groped on them. Kabukimono's hands were soft and completely submissive to your command, so they were pleasuring you fully. You doubted that those hands, so perfectly architectured and crafted, could be ever as damaged as the other men's.

“Wow…” He hummed very lowly, still froze in his place as you stared at his dolly face.

And although he wasn't really moving, you could his fingertips slowly getting more and more relaxed by the seconds, mostly stoning them in an angle where he was grpping on your breasts by his own without the assistance of your hands. You even saw him smoothly breathe out all that air he had kept his lungs all this long, which seemed like an achievement to you.

As expected, the experience was becoming pleasing to him. Even if he wasn't human, what kind of creature does not enjoy groping boobs? They're soft and fluffy, no matter how big or small they are. You'd never tell any man this little secret, but even women grope their own boobs when they feel like it, so why wouldn't he want it too? The question didn't matter to you anymore because his hands, who were previously repulsive to your boobs, now finally have tightened their grip on you without your assistance, alongside with his eyes, who slowly opened to meet what he hadn't revealed to himself yet.

You couldn't help but let out a slutty hum, thirsting for more of that individuality of Kabukimono.

And he didn't disappoint your hunger, since it seemed he had found the courage to start a slow rhythm of rotating your boobs all around in a circle as he occasionally pressed them with his fingers too, even causing your inner walls to clench around nothing a few times. His cheeks were still shining in red, matching his shiny violet eyes, but they had definitely lost a bunch of pigmentation as he got used to the feeling.

You grinned and relaxed your hands on top of his', enjoying both sides of his hands working on you. The sexual tension had become heavy to you by the seconds, but Kabukimono didn't really look sparked in that way, like all that went through his mind was really just curiosity in the female body. After all, the next thing he said to you wasn't arousing in any way.

“W-What happened to your nipples?” He asked, moving both his and your index and middle fingers away from each other to take a better look at your nipples.

“Oh..." You went quiet for some seconds, looking down upon your boobs, only to find them looking normal, with the exception of your them being hard. "They just got hard…” You explained, a little turned off and scratching the back of your head.

“Hard..? Why..?” The grip of his hands softened, his attention already focusing in the next explanation you were going to give him.

“Well, as I explained, I need to have a way to feed a baby with the milk inside me, so think of this as a sink turning on..!” You suggested, a little more enthusiastic. “Although any kind of touch can easily make them hard...” You argued back at your own explanation.

“Wow… it’s rally a whole system…” He commented while pressing your boobs once again, which made you nod in surprise of the way he connected the ideas pretty quickly without you having to go word by word about it.

“That's right, just like the entire human body! Wanna try one?” You said, gently pinching your own nipple to show him a preview of what he had to do again.

But unlike your expectations, he didn't feel really embarrassed at all anymore as you saw him nodding for a quick moment and then slowly changing the way his hand was positioned to perfectly pinch both your nipples at the same time, causing a whole heat wave to run through your body.

You couldn’t help but genuinelty let a moan escape your lips and clamp your inner walls together again, trying to hold your will to touch yourself as he teased your boobs. It called Kabukimono's attention for a second but he decided to ignore it, thinking it was a sign to keep going. So, one of his hands decided to convert back to its fondling form, trying to do both things he had just learned at the same time. It was really causing your body to heat up in a way you weren’t expecting it to, in need for the next level of that kind of interaction, and he would simply keep fueling it cluelessly. His eyes would constantly focus on each boob and his hands would switch turns between pinching a nipple and fondling the whole organ, which was an addicting feeling for you, such an untouched woman.

You couldn’t even believe that was really Kabukimono making you feel pleasure, and that much of it too. It didn’t match his personality at all, and that’s also something he also came up to realize.

“Y/N-sama… why am I learning this..?” He suddenly asked, stopping his rhythm on you which also cut off the production of pleasure in your body.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. Was Kabukimono ready to learn how humans make babies in the first place to feed with your boobs? Was he ready to practice it too? Could he get you pregnant..? He was such an innocent boy, vulnerable to any corruption… but you could help him mature in a way it wouldn’t traumatize him. As long as you treat the topic nicely and let him decide whether he wants it or not, it wouldn’t be that much for the boy to take, would it? It could also make him have more pleasure in living as a whole.

Wait... does he even have a dick? Even if he did, is he able to feel pleasure? You didn’t see or feel him feeling sexual during this whole time. Maybe he’s really immune or tolerant to it... or he hasn’t felt it yet.

“Kabuki-kun… do you have anything between your legs?” You asked, purposefully avoiding his question.

“Between my legs..?” He rubbed his own legs against each other gently for a quick moment. “Yeah… yes, I do.” He said, not understanding why you changed topic, but taking his hands off your breasts for the moment.

“May I see what’s between them?” You grinned and leaned a little closer to the puppet’s embarrassed face, trying to make him comfortable onto saying ‘yes’ to you.

“I—… yes, but you didn’t answer my question…” He answered, purposefully closing the gap between his legs shut to get you to talk to him first.

“Well… Kabuki-kun, boobs aren’t only made to feed babies… do you even know how babies are made in the first place?” You stopped your line of thinking just to know if he was really that innocent, which he nodded his head side-to-side. “Well then, I think it’s really important for you to learn about this system of the human body, Kabuki-kun. Boobs are also made to make me… feel good.” His head angled to the left a little, not understanding what you meant by that last sentence.

“Feel good..?” His voice sounded confused once again, back to step one.

“Yes, and whatever us between your legs can probably make you feel good too, that’s why..!” You reassured the boy, gently patting the top of his purple head, but he didn’t really seem to be interested in your words, which made your anticipation truly die. “I just… wanted to teach you something about human beings that can do two things at the same time for us… it’s okay if you don’t want it, I understand.” You finally begun backing away from the puppet.

What were you thinking? How could you forget he isn’t really a human being in the first place? He’s a puppet, one that assimilates a human being, but who doesn’t act like one. He’s still too ‘young’ and naive to learn such a delicate thing… nor would he ever pleasure on it like you did. What kind of puppeteer would ever give any puppet a sexual organ? It would be cruel to teach him something for only your benefit when he didn’t view it like that too. It’d be better to let him have his first time with a woman he actually appreciates, not with the only one he knows yet.

You started tying your kimono back to normal very disappointed at yourself while Kabukimono simply stared. You couldn’t even tell what was he thinking behind that head… how’d you think that brainless man would be able to take all the information sex needs to be done accurately?

“W-Wait… what is it that you want to teach me..?” One of his hands launched forward to hold one of your wrists gently, trying to stop you from completely dressing up again.

Your face frowned, a little uncomfortable to talk about the topic now, but not enough to actually not give him the answer.

“…It’s called sex.” You initiated, but tried to wait for him to recognize the term, although you were pretty sure he wouldn’t-

“I’ve heard that name before!” He smiled at you very excited as he indeed recognized that term.

“You… did..?” You were a little shocked, you must say. The way he has been internally repulsing sexual interaction didn’t match the fact he knew the word ‘sex’ at all...

... Oh, yeah, the forgers.

“Y-Yeah! The forgers talk about that sometimes but they always make sure I don’t hear or understand what they’re talking about! I’ve even heard your name in those conversations sometimes!” He got so excited as he explained what he knew, completely clueless of the trigger he had just pulled on you.

“O-Oh… that’s… good..?!” It took you a while to properly react to that information in a way where he wouldn’t lose that motivation.

“What is that?! I’ve been wanting to learn what that was for a while now… but the miners always told me to wait for 5 years to learn about it, and we’re still on month 6 on year 1! Should I really wait for it or can you tell me what it is?!” You sighed.

Those stupid men… gatekeeping anything they find too ‘inappropriate’ for Kabukimono… and for five years..?!

“Well, Kabuki… I guess you can learn about it...” You breathed in and out, preparing yourself to teach him something partially hard to take in while his face remained excited like a little kid’s. “So... Kabuki-kun, when two people really like each other, they make this act called sex, but in better words, they make love to each other. It shows to them how much they like each other and how intimate they wish to be with each other.” You initiated, blood beginning to run to your cheeks again as you thought of you and Kabukimono possibly making love to each other too. “And sex is… something that makes the both of them feel really good and that can also make a baby, that’s some people call it ‘making love’.” You scratched the back of your neck.

“So… if that happens between two people that like each other, does it mean we can do it too? I mean... I think you were feeling pretty good when I was fondling your breasts so it means we can make it too, right?” Your eyes widened a little. He had no notion of what he had just asked for, did he?

“Well… yeah, but I don’t think you’re apt to do it, Kabuki… it’s not easy at all and you didn’t really seem a bit interested in it before, so I don’t want to make this any more uncomfortable or awkward to you.” You wasted the opportunity he had given you.

“B-But I want to learn! I want to know more about humans! I don’t mind making you feel good at all, I was just a little lost back there! Your boobs feel really nice to touch!” He suddenly banged his hands in the floor again and hopped closer to you, not allowing you to back away from him at all.

Oh, you were so confused… yeah, you had created all this mess but you’ve only realized it was really a mess now. All thanks to your bipolarity...

“Well… we can try but I don’t know if I’m in the mood anymore…” You giggled nervously, trying your best to not make the moment more awkward.

“W-Wait! Here!” He suddenly backed away from you only to quickly undo the simple tie in his white pants and pull his organ out of it with a hand. “This is what you wanted to see if I had, isn’t it?! The forgers already made me that question too!” Your jaw dropped at his move. It wasn’t comfortable in any way to have a man pulling out his dick when you have already stated you weren’t in the mood to do it, nor when it was a puppet labeled as a male human being.

But, indeed, Kabukimono really hadn’t answered your question wrong. He did have a dick...

... and he wasn't small.

It even made you stop your thoughts to think about why would he ever have one. Is his creator a creep? Was this some sort of irony his creator did because they knew they were going to abandon him and that would most likely lead him to death? Well, there’s also the factor he wants to be associated with the human race, and one of the many aspects of humanity are these intimate parts and what they bring humans to feel, so it would make sense for him to have one for this mission or if his creator really wanted to abandon him.

Yeah, that’s probably it. Anyway, this man has a big dick and he stated he wants to learn about sex with you. What are you waiting for?

“O-Oh!” You stared at his furless genital for a moment. “Well then… can I touch it, Kabuki?” You hopped a little closer to him, making his eyes look away from yours in slight embarrassment.

“Y-Yes... but be careful..!" He let go of his grip in his dick and relaxed both his hands behind his body in the floor, opening his entire body for you to touch.

You slowly crawled closer to his body, your eyes deeply focused in his growing erection. After kneeing the closest you could to his hips, your right hand finally reached his organ, which made it twitch and made him whimper immediately. It was not only the first time you had ever touched him like that, but it was also the first time you heard such kind of noise coming out of him. It was probably his first time being touched like that too, so it would be expected for him to be very sensible. Your hand was quick to begin a slow rhythm of going up and down all around it, which surprised him since he’d been so slow and careful with you and the fact he was being introduced to so much pleasure in such a short time. Which means that soon enough, his noises became something constant rather than rare, but at least his body was becoming more relaxed and turned on with your movements. His cheeks had become red again and he decided to put a hand in front of his mouth to cover his moans.

“Does that feel good, Kabuki?” You asked, smiling at his whiny face and pearly eyes, like he was about to tear with the amounts of pleasure you gave him.

“I-Is this… supposed to make me feel like this..?” He looked up to you again while groaning in his own palm.

“Yes, indeed… that’s what I call it ‘feeling good’ and ‘making love’, but it’s also known as ‘sexual pleasure’.” You blinked at him, whose face just blushed more.

“I-I… I want to make you feel this good too.” He stated before suddenly jumping his body upwards and placing his hands on your boobs, already beginning a rhythm of fondling them to match yours.

You couldn’t deny you were surprised at the move, moaning in a high-pitched tone while your walls clamped around nothing once again when he pinched your nipples, but you didn’t mind it at all. Instead, you wanted him to continue… in another place.

“I know a better place for that…” You whispered with a gentle voice, knowing it always made Kabukimono’s ear twitch.

“S-Show me!” He let go off your boobs and rested both his palms open in front of you so you could move them as you wished to.

Unfortunately, you had to ruin some of the tension that was building up by taking your right hand away from his dick, the same way he did to yours boobs. You slid the rest of your kimono, that has been resting in your hips all along, until it was fully in the floor. Then, you slid your panties to your knees, too lazy and needy to waste your time taking it all off. Then you sat down again and begun reshaping his hand to a new form like you were messing with clay, gently grabbing after finishing it to place it to your vertical lips, which made Kabukimono’s eyes widen in curiosity by the second and force his arm to stone in its place.

“W-What’s that..?” He asked, trying to take a closer peek of your pussy before actually touching it.

“It’s called a ‘vagina’, but it’s better to call it a ‘pussy’… it’s where I urinate and also where I feel the most good.” Your own cheeks got flushed as you explained about your own organ, who was aching to be touched by those soft hands of his. “Wanna try it by your own?” You pleaded as you spread your legs further away from each other for his benefit.

He quietly nodded while sliding his hand to your pussy smoothly, ready to coop it on top of it, but as soon as he felt the wet of it barely leaking from your hole, he took his hand away from you like he had just touched acid.

“W-What is that..?!” His entire face went red as he got nervous.

You couldn’t help but giggle, thinking that he was probably guessing that was pee.

“Don’t worry, Kabuki, it’s not pee..! It’s just that when you make a girl feel good like you were just doing to me, she gets wet like this, just like you got a little hard when I touched you.” You carefully explained, gently running a finger at your entrance to grab some of your wet and show him what it was.

“B-But why would you get wet..? And why would I get hard..?” He asked as he cautiously looked at your finger.

“For us to make love… but I won’t show it to you yet, you still need more accommodation.” He made a whiny face as you hid the answer away from him, but decided to go along with what you were previously doing.

“Oh… that looks sweet.” He commented as his eyes lingered on your wet finger like a curious kid.

“You can try it if you want to… I don’t think it tastes good tho…” You brought your finger closer to him so he could taste it.

His mouth approached your finger and opened enough to stick his tongue out and lick the pool of wet resting at the tip of your finger.

“Tastes… salty.” He commented, a little reluctant while moving his tongue around his mouth to taste your juices better.

“There’s no need to keep tasting it… you’re supposed to simply play with it as you wish to…” You joked, giggling at yourself, completely desperate for his soft fingers to caress your swollen cunt again.

“O-Ok…” He nodded, getting his hand back to your folds and caressing them up and down, making your clit ache to receive that much attention too.

And you got your hands back to work in his dick, both of you beginning to pleasure yourselves with your hands while a mess of moans started to take over the room’s previous silence.

“I-Is this… a hole..?” He asked, gently inserting the tip of his finger inside you, which caused you to roll your head behind your shoulders in shock with the sudden pleasure.

“Ah, yes! Keep going..!” You pleaded for him, who simply nodded in shock with your reaction and kept fingering you in and out.

You didn’t even tell him that he was supposed to thrust it repeatedly, but he seemed to have the instincts to do it like a real man would, which relieved you a little. His cold fingers also made you feel even better, melting your entrance in him easily.

Kabukimono couldn’t even think about what was he doing. The pleasure you were giving to his poor virgin dick was numbing his thoughts, and he hated it. He really wanted to find a way to thrust you better, but thankfully, you were also too focused on your own actions to care if he was thrusting you badly or not, your cunt was too hungry to refuse any touch that wasn’t yours. Your grip on his dick tightening according to how good he made you feel.

“You’re really hard, Kabuki… are you enjoying this this much too?” You asked with a flirty voice, leaning closer to his face, inches away from his red lips.

“Y-Yes…” He whimpered.

“Want me to make this even better?” You leaned closer to his ear just to make the boy shiver and nod immediately in desperation for his unrecognized sexual relief.

“There’s more..?!” His eyes widened a little, which made you smirk in amusement.

But it quickly got replaced by you taking your hands away from his erection and use them to push him by the shoulders against the mattress that had been laying down and witnessing the both of you from behind this entire time. You weren’t aggressive of course, why would you want to scare him off from such a pleasurable act that you needed to have once again?

He still got a little shocked and gasped lightly, but still let you have the most power in the moment. But his attention was taken away when he rose his head to see what was one of your hands doing in the back of your bodies.

“Is this… sex..?” He asked while tryin to cover some moans from you running your gummy folds in his tip.

“Yes, indeed. Are you ready to see why I get wet and you get hard..?” You smirked as you moved your hands to undo his kimono away from his chest too, revealing his slim torso.

You were kinda surprised at the fact that he didn’t really have abs after working out so much in the mines, but since he was a puppet, his muscles couldn’t really change, could they?

“Y-Yes…” He moaned, and soon his words were taken over by even more moans because of you slowly fitting all of yourself around his throbbing erection, causing him to arch his back with the weird sensation of your wet warmth squeezing him entirely.

But the thing that mostly called your attention was just how the cold his dick was compared to your cunt, like if all that warming-up was completely useless to his body. The heat shock caused shivers to run down your whole body, also making him to get even harder due to the comfort your warmth gave to his cold body.

“See how they match perfectly with each other..? Do you like it..?” You asked between slight groans, leaning closer to his embarrassed face as his dick warmed up to your temperature.

“Y-Yes… feels weird, but… I want more..!” He moaned out, completely altered by what you were doing to him, even launching his hips upward to feel more of your gummy insides.

“Then I’ll give you more…” You grabbed the boy’s chin and took his lips into a suffocating kiss while you started jerking your hips up and down.

His hands were gripping so tight in the sheets you could even feel bad for him, but he fit so perfectly inside you didn’t really want to stop. Puffy noises could be heard coming out from you whenever you sat down on him due to the arousal of the sex you were doing while your tongues danced with each other maniacally.

“This is why I get wet, Kabuki…” You moaned between the kiss. “So I can slide around you as easily as this… and you get hard so you can easily fit in me..! Isn’t it a funny system..?” You stopped kissing him, but you still kept your foreheads touching each other, feeling his warm breath in your face.

“Y-Yes..! A-And you’re wet because I made you feel good, right..?” He asked, desperately looking for more of your approval, which made you so joyful that you nodded immediately.

“Of course, Kabuki, of course…” You mumbled before launching your mouth right back at his mouth again.

If you never thought of Kabukimono as anything but a friend, now you definitely were. He was perfectly kind and loving like a friend should be, but the most important part of his personality, that you’ve never really paid attention to, was just how respectful, loyal and curious he was about you. He always looked up to you when he had a question, he always praised you for teaching him things, calling you wonderful, amazing and many other things. He was too naive to be unfaithful or disrespectful to you, like… you couldn’t picture him leaving your apartment as soon as he was done with this, like other men did, or tell everyone about his newest achievement of getting you under him in a bed, like all of the men did. You couldn’t even tell if Kabukimono liked you in a romantic way, but you definitely wanted him to. You wanted to be the only woman he committed those acts with, the same way you were beginning to wish he was the only man doing that you did that with.

“F-Feels too good..!” He whined, tears appearing at the corner of his eyes as he forced your mouths to stop kissing, a chord of saliva connecting you two indirectly for some quick seconds before it broke and fell on his chin.

You smirked at the view you had of him under you, but you were soon cut by Kabukimono strength suddenly acting on you.

It was sudden, but Kabukimono really moved his hands to your shoulders and pulled himself upwards, pushing the both of you down the floor again, his balls still shoved deep inside you. You didn’t protest at all but you were surprised he had the instinct to do that.

“I-I want to… do it too…” He whispered, his mouth and arms trembling in exhaustion, barely drooling on top of you.

His kimono had also fallen all the way to his knees, fully giving you a hot view of his naked body as his dick grinded inside your gummy hole.

“It’s ok… go ahead…” You smiled at him, using your hands to caress his back carefully, stimulating him to fuck you already.

His hips bucked once into yours slowly, really unsure of his own actions although he really wanted to be doing it, but you were so turned on, anything made you feel good at this point.

“Y-Yes… just like that… nice and slow~…” You moaned as you spread your legs further away from each other for him, approaching both your bodies to each other.

“You like it like this..?” He bucked his hips some more times into you, more comfortable with your opinion at his sloppy thrusts.

“Yes… you’re doing a good job, Kabuki…” You moaned out his name, which caused a whiny groan to come out of him.

“S-S… say that again…” He pleaded, his speed slightly increasing, although his thrusts weren’t precise at all.

“Kabuki..?” You asked, making him moan loudly again and tighten his grip in the hay floor by your head. “Kabuki~…” You repeated it, but better, making the poor puppet have to tug his face under your neck in desperation for any strength.

“Yes… my name..! I want that to be my real name..!” He moaned with a hoarse voice whille moving his hands down to your waist just to hug you in an angle where he could feel your chest against his and where he could also make love to your needy hole without having to wate all of his little remaining energy.

If it wasn’t for his will to keep going, he would’ve crumbled on top of you a long time ago. You could feel just how shaky his knees were from all the exhaustion. Seems like you had really managed to turn him addicted to the feeling even if it was just his first time ever doing it. He was determined to keep reaching for more pleasure like it was a law set on stone for him. He didn’t even know sex had its peak yet, and you knew he would get even more surprised, excited and exhausted with the information you were going to tell him soon. But right now, you just wanted to feel the tip of his cock punching your gummy walls until it kissed your cervix and hear the poor puppet whining beautifully right on your ears whenever he did that.

Poor little Kabukimono couldn’t even bring himself to pull out more than half of his dick from you, just like if he wanted to simply be embraced the warmth of your insides for the rest of it, cockwarming himself although his dick and his whole body didn't even feel cold anymore. Its temperatue had managed to perfectly balance with yours because of all that energy you two were wasting on each other.

“Y-Y/N-sama... I feel weird...” He whispered in a very weirded-out tone, rising his head to stare at you but not daring to stop fucking you.

“How come..?” You stared right back into the deepest corners of his pupils, moving a hand upwards to caress the poor boy's head as he vented to you.

“S-Something... inside me... I think I need to go to the bathroom..!” He explained while slowing down his rhythm considerably, making a perverted grin to grow in your lips immediately as you remembered that you needed to talk to him about the orgasm.

“Oh, Kabuki... you don’t need to go to the bathroom..! Believe it or not, there’s still a final step you need to learn, so keep going and do not stop.” His eyes widened in surprise once again but he decided to not protest and listen to you. “You’re about to reach the peak of sex... the peak of pleasure... we call it an orgasm... we’ve been building it ever since we started touching each other…” You explained while trying to hold back the multiple moans he was causing you to have due to how he went back to his previous rhythm of pushing his hips into youtrs. “I think I’m also reaching too... so we’re gonna do it together, isn’t that amazing..?” You pulled his head closer to your just to feel his sweaty forehead against yours again.

“Y-yes... are you sure this is the final step tho..? You keep saying there’s a new thing when you say it’s the last one..!” He protested in a childish tone which made you giggle.

“I am a 100% sure this is the last step now, Kabuki... it's nothing as special as all of this.. you’ll see... but I need you just fuck me a little faster!” You pleaded, finally letting some of your sluttiness get out of its cage, the same ones you've been holding inside your head this entire time to make the experience more about him rather than you.

Thanfully, Kabukimono wasn’t selfish or proud of himself, so he simply nodded his head weakly and went back to hammering your hole full of his dick to reach both your orgasms, shoving his head back to its little hiding spot in you neck again.

“C-Can I kiss you here, Y/N-sama..?” He whined while touching the tip of his nose in the side of your neck, his lips already touching it in a trembly way.

“Of course you can, Kabuki! I’m even surprised you felt the will to do that...” You turned your head to his to whisper in his ear as he launched his lips into your muscles, making out with it very gently.

Since you hadn’t really taken your hand away from the back of his head, you decided to go back at caressing it, which was making the poor puppet’s body twitch every now and then. That part of his body was ticklish as expected and you wanted him to feel good, so you just relaxed most of your muscles and let him enjoy the magic of a wet pussy for the first time. After all, Kabukimono was obviously not mastered in having sex (yet), so his thrusts were more relaxing than breathtaking to you, but it didn’t mean it was making you feel turned off.

Still, even if he didn’t have any idea of what he was doing and how to do it, a certain bulge was beginning to evolve quicker in your womb, warning your body that you were indeed about to reach an orgasm. Perhaps, that whole masturbation session and your newest attraction for him made it easier for your body to experience sexual pleasure.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Kabuki..!” You warned him, although you knew he had no idea of what you meant by that.

“I-Is that… the peak thing..? Because if it is, I think I’m gonna do that too.. my balls feel… really heavy..!” The lack of breath in his body didn’t even allow him to tell you something in a full sentence, his will to cry barely becoming true as you heard his voice break multiple times.

“Yes..! You’re gonna cum too!” Your other hand in his back scratched him not so gently, which caused him to let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, but you were really just trying to feel more of him.

And it really didn’t last long to build up the orgasm in that position because Kabukimono had really been building it up all this time. Even that mechanism in his body perfectly resembled a human’s one. It was hot and sticky as expected, even hotter than a man’s cum, causing your womb to ache with the slightly fiery feeling of both your orgasms fighting for space inside there. Kabukimono threw his head aback and screamed the loudest the he could, completely shocked and unused to that euphoric feeling, but he made sure to keep some self control to keep himself loading all of his essence inside you, no matter if his hands were having to give their soul to keep him on top of you.

The moment lasted for a good while since his orgasm was way longer than yours, but you made sure to welcome every single drop of his cum inside you so he could understand the fun of having an orgasm in the first place.

When his cock finally ended milking every single miligram of his cum from his virgin body, he simply crumbled and fell on top of you with eyes closed shut, still with his cock shoved in you so he wouldn’t get rid of that addicting feeling of a gummy pussy. Your hands simply tapped his back in response, trying to make the poor puppet comfortable to relax on top of you after such exhausting round of sex.

“Liked it..?” You asked, holding back a little giggle.

“Y-Yes… I did…” He said while breathing heavily multiple times, his voice stll sounding whiny.

“Come here…” You hugged his back harder and guided him into the loose mattress of your bed again, ending with you and him laying side by side, centimeters away from each other and staring at each other romantically. “Thank you, Kabuki-kun…” You whispered while moving a hand to throw a piece of his hair behind his ear, which made him grin and his cheeks to flush in a pinkish tone.

“No… I should be the one thanking you for teaching me so many new things in a single question…” He avoided eye contact with you.

You couldn't hold it anymore, he looked too cute for you to not hug him, so that's what exactly you did. You threw yourself against the boy's chest and slid your hands under his arms to hug his back once again. He quickly hugged you back, squeezing your head closer to his chest unintentionally. It was weird how you couldn’t hear anything from inside it, but it really didn’t matter if he didn’t have a heart or not to you, he had a soul and a very alive one.

“You’re welcome, Kabuki…” You finally allowed yourself to close your eyes and begin to fall asleep.

You assumed Kabukimono was doing the same, even if sleeping didn’t have any benefits to him. After all, he was extremely quiet and he sounded like he was focusing on his breathing, rolling his fingers in some strands of your hair playfully just like other men did when they decided to spend the rest of the night with you.

“Y/N-sama… do you mind if I ask you something before you fall asleep..?” He suddenly whispered, which didn’t scare you at all, so you didn’t even mind moving a muscle to open your eyes again.

“Yeah, go ahead…” You answered in a sleepy tone.

“When can we do that again?”

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @alatusorrow @the-stinky-winky @kindofscenic @amoyanderes @kindofshyent

Requests are open again!

[warnadudenexttime]

Roman, groaning: UGHHHH!

Virgil:

Roman: I SAID UGHHHHH!

Virgil, taking off his headphones: Okay, Roman, I get it. What do you want?

Roman: Thank you~ Ugh, I’m just so annoyed! Today is Logan’s week to decide movie night!

Virgil: You know we wouldn’t do a weekly rotation for movie nights if you didn’t rig the votes everytime we tried to-

Roman: HE’S PROBABLY GOING TO PICK ANOTHER LAME EDUCATIONAL DOCUMENTARY!

Virgil: I will agree with you on that, they- are… really boring.

Patton: Aw, come on guys! Be nice! If it’s what Logan wants then we all have to watch, it’s his turn!

Virgil, shooting a glare: You fell asleep 5 minutes into the 3 hour movie on parakeets last month!

Patton: RAINFOREST NOISES MAKE ME SLEEPY! I CAN’T HELP IT!

Logan, walking in holding a DVD: Ah, I see you are all “pumped up” as they say, likely for movie night?

Roman, looking up: Uh-

Virgil, looking down: Er-

Patton, mumbling: Please don’t ask me to lie-

Logan, frowning: Well, luckily for you three then, we aren’t watching the ‘Exploring the History of Cryptids in Europe’ documentary I did have planned for this week.

Virgil: Well, now- that one sounds pretty cool-

Logan: We will instead be watching the Disney classic, “Cinderella.”

Patton and Roman: Yay!

Virgil, pointing a finger upwards: I think- we should really revisit that cryptids documentary idea- actually-

Logan, handing out papers to the others: But of course, due to its lack of educational content you all will be completing a worksheet on the movie.

Roman, grabbing the paper with force: A WORKSHEET?! I get you’re a teacher but this is overstepping it don’t you think??

Virgil, reading one of the questions: “Do you foresee the economic collapse of the prince’s kingdom in the future? Argue why or why not in a short answer format?” Wow this is… this sucks.

Patton, staring at the paper: Were we supposed to study for this- I moved out Thomas’ memories of Cinderella to make more room for celebrity crushes-

Logan: Hm? Study? No. You should be filling out these questions as we watch the film, but I suppose afterwards we all can go over the worksheet if you prefer.

Virgil, eyes widening: Share my answers with the whole group? What if my answer is wrong- what if my voice cracks- what if-

Roman, shaking the paper in the air: Why the hell do we have to fill out a worksheet! This is movie night! It’s about having fun!

Logan: Well, you all wanted something “non-educational” and to work around copyright laws, the only way teachers are allowed to show films in that nature is to mandate a worksheet along with it. So. If anything you’ve done this to yourselves.

Virgil:

Patton:

Roman: WHAT COPYRIGHT LAWS?! WE LIVE IN A GAY MAN’S F-CKING HEAD?! JUST LET US WATCH THE MOVIE!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Thursdays are your least favourite. You have two classes and a large chunk of nothing followed by a late lab. In the time in-between, you don’t bother making the venture back to your dorm, instead opting for the library after a quick stop at the cafe. After sitting around and trying to focus on the dense texts, you’re almost too exhausted for your lab. 

Still, you get through it without a complete disaster and another dose of homework to add to your pile. As you follow the tide of students down the halls, spread out in pairs, trios, and larger groups, you yawn. You peek out the windows in dread. It’s already dark. With the autumn well in-effect, the nights aren’t only earlier, but blacker. 

You’re the last out, hanging back as you’re too nervous to get caught underfoot. You come down the front steps of the century-old building as your classmates disperse in fading ripples of chatter. As they fade into the evening, you’re left alone. 

You keep your hand around your phone, tucked just inside your jacket pocket, and head down the path. There’s a shortcut behind the English hall but you only take that in the daytime. So, you’re left with the long-winding route. 

As you pass by one of those poles with the siren at the top and a button labeled, press for assistance, you’re reminded of those cautionary talks during orientation. Try not to walk alone after dark, it’s always best to practice the buddy system. Well, your only buddy isn’t answering your texts. Besides, it’s not Peter’s responsibility and he has a morning lab. 

Your soles scuff and echo, sending a child up your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s almost as if there’s another set of steps. You slow and peer over your shoulder. It’s only your shadow limned by the lamp post that lights the benches and hedges that trim the walkway. 

You turn back and gurgle around a yipe. You stagger away from the figure as they catch you by your upper arm. You pull out your phone and flick on the flashlight, shining it in your accoster’s face. 

“Please--” you begin as the man lets you go and shies away, shielding himself with his hand. His fingers gleam in the glow and the leather glove cut above his knuckles darkens his palm. “Huh?” 

Bucky taps the frame of your phone and you lower it. You gape at him in shock, casting the light at the pavement instead. He blinks as he clears his vision. 

“Great to see your reflexes are on point,” he rubs his eyes.  

“What---” you look around as you bounce on your toes. 

“Stalking around a college isn’t exactly my idea of a good night either,” he says as your question hangs unfinished. “On a call. Details are confidential.” 

“Uh, oh? Around here?” You peer around, heart thumping against your ribs as your throat tightens. 

“Ha, I know, right? I should ask you why you’re out so late. Wandering around in the dark?” 

You blanch and rest your hand on your messenger bag, itching to take out your puffer as the pressure builds in your chest. 

“I... just walking home, sir. I swear--” 

“Relax,” his eyes catch the movement of your hand. “You’re no villain, I know. I only meant...” he pauses and glances around deliberately, “not very safe to be out.” 

You gulp and pull up the flap of your bag. You cough and bury your hand into the small pocket sewn into the lining. You take out your puffer and bring it to your mouth. You suck in the air as his posture softens. 

“Hey, woah, I’m not tryna scare ya. You okay?” He asks. 

You nod and swallow, lowering the inhaler. “Sorry, I... I’m tired and the air is cold,” you explain. “I’m just going back to my dorm. My lab was late.” 

“Right,” he accepts easily. “Why don’t you let me walk you?” 

“I... I’m alright. What about... whoever you’re looking for?” 

“Am I looking for someone?” He challenges. “Just a walk through, doll.” 

“Oh, erm, but uh, I don’t wanna... distract you,” you clutch your puffer so tight you accidentally push down the canister. “Oh, uh, sorry.” 

“Not distracting me. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let a young lady walk home alone in the dark, would I?” 

“Maybe, but... you don’t have to,” you squeak. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slow. He clicks his tongue, “you don’t like me.” 

“N-no,” you sputter. “No, it’s not, erm, sorry. Sorry.” 

“Don’t listen to the kid, he’s full of it,” he says. 

“Peter? He didn’t--” 

“Sweetheart, I’m kidding with ya,” he pats your arm, “really, I’m just looking out for you. Young girl like you, so quiet. Sweet. I saw the way that guy almost walked right through ya. And what did you do? You apologised to him. That ain’t right. Not how you treat a lady where I’m from.” 

You fidget and peek around. You can’t see much more than shadows beyond the wooden slats of benches and barren bushes. “But... I was in his way.” 

“Now, doll, how could you be in anyone’s way? Hope it’s not Pete putting that in your head,” he intones. 

“Peter? No, he’s nice. He’s a good friend. He’s... he helps me,” you say. 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Bucky says, “point me in the right direction, doll? You stay out here any longer and you’re gonna chatter your teeth out of your head.” 

You hesitate before you get what he means. You don’t think he’s going to let you go alone and you really just want to go home. It is really cold out. You point behind him, “just down there and around.” 

“Right,” he turns and waves you along with him. You fall into step, too afraid to protest any further. You do feel a bit better not being alone. “Strange, you don’t strike me as Peter’s type.” 

“What? His type? Oh no, we’re friends,” you chirp. 

He hums. “Sure, just like all the others he brings to the Tower.” 

You frown and put your chin down, hiding your confusion, “others?” 

“Sure, bubbly ones. They talk a lot. Not like you though.” 

“Oh... well, we’re just doing a project,” you shrug. 

“I’m sure. Just a project,” he says. “Sorry, I misunderstood.” 

The air grows even more frigid as you walk on in silence. As you think of his implication, you feel your throat locking up again. You take another puff and cough. You turn and he follows you around the bend. 

“He isn’t worth your time anyway,” his deep timbre rolls through the tension. “I mean, if he was, he’d be the one walking you home right now, wouldn’t he?” 

[sagekiosk]

🐍🐙🏹

Jamil, Azul, Rook x Reader — Yandere — Angst — TWST

You guys ; NOOOO SAGE,, ANGST AGAIN!?!?

Me ; you eat whats on your plate >:(( Hope this will feed you guys for the time being while I’m making the other fics, this is just a silly gift for @plumipal !! hope you enjoy plumi.

FOR THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED ON WHATS THE PROMPT!! Check out Plumipals' yan twst tattoo au. Then this could probably more sense!

Also probably OOC??

TW;; Aww angst :((, pfft no I’m not biased w jamil, DEESSPPERATE BOYS, Jamil crying, Sad Azul, Emotionless(?) Rook, all of them hating on the tattoo, Bad grammar?, Rook watching you sleep, Rook's part is a bit short maybe.

JAMIL VIPER 🐍

That damn tattoo.. that stupid tattoo. He hates it so much, he hates it so so bad. Why? Why did you have to put that stupid thing on you?

And what’s even worse is that it’s because of HIS overblot. It’s because of him that you got that horrible mark on your wrist.

It’s all he can think about, all he can think about is that tattoo. He feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to overblot.

again.

He just can’t take it, he can’t! It’s always on his mind. You looked so happy, smiling, when you confirmed that you had that tattoo. You even showed it to him as if it was the greatest decision you made..

He just wishes that oh so beautiful smile was engraved in his brain. And not that horrible tattoo.

Poor Jamil, he can’t sleep at all. His eye bags are so visible under his eyes. He couldn't eat properly either, he couldn't bring himself to stand up and get fresh air. Whats even more annoying is that Kalim has been questioning if he's fine

Jamil just simply scoffed and told him he was fine. But really he wasn’t, you probably hate him don’t you? You probably despise him to the point where you don’t wanna see him.

Well actually, you don’t, he just can’t bear to see you. Whenever he does all he can focus on is the tattoo on your wrist. It pains him so bad for being the reason of it.

Seeing you would just make him cry right on the spot, he feels so worthless and horrible.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he started to avoid you. Like that was a good idea..

It just only made things worse than they were before, Jamil also came to a realization that he can’t live another day without seeing you.

Yes, he does hate the fact that he’s the reason you got the tattoo. But he also hates the fact of not being able to be with you. He wants to spend every second of his life with you.

Literally like a week later you were met face to face with a Jamil who looked so close to crying. He looked like a wreck, unlike the usual stoic and independent Jamil you’re used to seeing.

"Y/n.." he called out to you his eyes stuck on the ground.

"Jamil.." You answered him. How did it get this bad? You put your hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I haven't seen you all week.. and now you suddenly appear in front of me looking like a mess.. no offense.”

Jamil balled up his fists, the hand that you put on his shoulder was the same hand where the tattoo was in. He hated it. He shut his eyes tightly wanting the image of that tattoo out of his brain.

"Jamil?" you called out for him once more.

Opening his eyes, now staring at you directly into your eyes. You could see the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Y/n." he stammered "Please don't hate me."

"Jamil- why would I-"

"That tattoo.. it was because of me, its my fault isn't it? You despise me don't you." sniffling he grabs your other hand gently pushing the other one off of his shoulder.

He pulls your hand up to his face, your palm cupping his cheek. "I need you Y/n, I need you to love me as much as I do. I'm not second to those two right?" he continued tears slowly falling down his cheeks a smile creeping up his face.

It wasn’t because of happiness though.

"I'll be better, I promise, I'll make sure I change- anything you want from me, its yours. Just please.. please choose me."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO 🐙

When he first heard about the tattoo he couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it! You surely haven't marked yourself with those' idiots symbols, right?

You wouldn't.. yeah! Those rumours are just rumours. Theres a big chance they aren't true anyway. He would only believe them if he see's it for himself!

So for the first few days he was fine.. still overthinking. But he's just being paranoid! It's just a thing that.. will simply pass.

That was until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to silence those thoughts, they were so noisy. He invites you into Mostro Lounge's VIP room.

He asks about the tattoo and you confirm the rumours were true. You even had the audacity to roll up your sleeve and show it off proudly.

Fucking ouch, he felt his heart shatter at that point. He wishes that he just let those voices in his head be.

"I- I see, good to know you have.. such amazing friends." he spoke bitterly with a smile. shit- he stuttered.. hope you didn't notice it..

He clears his throat, are tears forming in his eyes? He has to hold it in.. He can't look like a loser. Not in front of you..

He asks you to leave.. which he rarely does. His excuse being that he has a lot of work to do. But actually, he just wants to lock himself up and never go out again.

When you leave the tears start flowing. His elbow on his desk, while his fingers massage his temple. The papers on his desk were getting soggy, but he doesn’t care.

He could recover those papers but it would probably take so much for you to remove those stupid tattoos. Do you hate him? He thought that you and him already made up from his overblot..

He's been stuck in his office for such a long time. He's put Jade in charge for now. He needs time for himself…

The longer hes stuck in there the more he thinks about that horrid tattoo. It's stuck in his mind, and it’s torturing him. He can't let anyone else see this. He can't allow anyone to see him as a stupid little crybaby.

He just wants to sink back into his octopot..

But then an idea pops in his head.. he should think of ways to maybe, earn your favor and get his own tattoo too. Thats the perfect idea!

He tries to make up a contract but all of his ideas go to the trash. They're all so horrible! No way you'd sign these..

They're just not perfect enough for you! Most of them seem childish.. and probably stupid. If he gave one of these to you then you'd probably see him as an idiot!

"No.. no.. no..! None of these contracts are good enough!" he crumpled up the contract he was holding it and threw it into the pile across the room.

How isn't he enough for you!? Why did you have to choose those two! He's- He's your friend too right? He'll do anything for you!

So why.. why did you just have to get a tattoo of them?

He starts crying again, how many times has he cried? He's not sure. He continues to sob covering his face with his eyes.

"Prefect would never love a stupid octopus like me.."

ROOK HUNT 🏹

He stares down at your sleeping figure, your tattooed wrist exposed right in front of him. What is that, mon amour? A tattoo?

Oh! how beautiful, why hasn't he heard you talking about it though?

Oh well, at least hes the first one to see it. He bends down smiling inspecting the tattoo closer.

It reminds him of something.. no actually, someone- hold on, Deuce and Ace?

..Did you seriously get a tattoo of them? W-well, its beautiful! The beauty of friendship is truly amazing. Your bond between Ace and Deuce is truly something!

But why did you have to mark your skin with those symbols though? Couldn't it be something better? Like his name, or maybe something that reminds you of him..

He's your friend too isn't he? So why didnt you get a tattoo for him too?.. He's done so much to make you happy!

He's always tried to keep you safe too.. And to always give you gifts and appreciate for the things you have done when nobody did.

So why didn't you get a tattoo of him too?

Yes he knows! Ace and Deuce have been there longer than him.. But he could treat you better than they ever could..

...

he isn't sure how to feel about this.

So for that night he leaves early going back to pomefiore.

For the next few weeks you notice that Rook has been really silent. You dont feel like anyone's watching you either.

You haven't heard Rook's praises about love in a while either.. so something must be wrong with him. You invite him to Ramshackle so you could help him cheer up.

Rook is oh so grateful, he would be singing praises about your generosity if he wasn't so down at the moment. Rook needs you. Rook wants you to like him to the point you'd get him a tattoo of him also.

Rook finds himself laying his head on your lap his arms wrapped around your waist while kneeling on the ground. You gently run your fingers through his soft silky blonde hair.

Rook sniffled and looked up at you, and you could see a single tear form in his eye.

"My heart yearns for your favor, mon amour. I wish to be as loved as much as you love Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade. But It seems that you haven't noticed that yet." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. You didn’t hear him clearly and ask him to repeat what he said.

He would’ve, but he just doesn’t feel like answering so he looked away from your eyes. You understood and went back to patting him gently.

He takes a deep breath in burry his head back into your stomach. "You’re so cruel, yet I still love you. The things I do for love." The things he does for you. He would do anything for you.

"I've never let anyone see me in this vulnerable state.” You’re so cruel, but he will still love you. No matter what, he will wait for you to love him back.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

BAM DONE. I had a little fun writing this honestly, silly little break. Thanks for reading up to this point. Sorry for the grammatical errors..

[cheeseceli]

That must be right

Pairing: Min Yoongi × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, f2l, drabble

Request: can i request a yoongi idolbf! x reader and its just like a fluffy date, they're just dating and didnt really actually confess their feeling yet and like at the end of the date he or reader confesses

Warnings: tzuyu (twice) makes a cameo, suga overthinks a bit, y/n was delulu for a second here, not proofread.

A/n: don't you just love when he smiles | daily click

Yoongi doesn't know what to feel right now.

He should be happy, because oh my God this is happening. But he should also be anxious, because what is he supposed to do now that this is happening? And on top of it, he should be scared, because is this even supposed to be happening?

The way you saved his number as "my love" is a fact that has been spiraling in his head for hours now, since he discovered it. And it is just a silly little detail about your every day life. He wasn't even supposed to know about that. But he does. And now he can't stop thinking about that.

It's also about how you told Tzuyu (who definitely shouldn't have told Suga) you couldn't go out with her since you were having a date with your boyfriend. The boyfriend being Yoongi. And the date being the place you guys should go to in a few hours.

And there's nothing wrong with that, right? Except for the fact that you called him your boyfriend when he is... not your boyfriend. He would love to be, of course! But he is not. Unless he got lost in translation, which he highly doubts, considering how he is always replaying everything you say and do in his mind.

But you called him that. And, in some type of way, you called him your love as well. Never to his face, but you did. And Yoongi has no idea on how much of that he should consider. It could be just a not very funny joke. But you wouldn't joke about it, would you? So maybe he should just behave like nothing happened. Yeah, that's right. He shouldn't even know about those things at all.

So for the rest of the day, he pretends that he didn't discover anything. Everything is exactly as it was. But he can't bring himself to actually forget those. "My boyfriend". "My love". Those sentences were quite harsh to forget about.

You guys are on a date, so why can't you be actually dating? Do you even know that this is a romantic date? Does Yoongi know that? When did the line between friends who are secretly in love and actual lovers blurry itself so hard? It's getting ridiculous at this point. So many questions and very few answers.

He watches as you hold the huge popcorn bucket, trying your best not to drop anything. You were just waiting in line with him, waiting for the movie session to start, but you were so happy. Even when just standing still, your eyes were undeniably full of joy.

Yoongi also didn't miss how you never failed at being close to him. Not on a way to overwhelm him, just to be there. Like you just wanted his company, even if you weren't touching each other. Even if you were in complete silence, even if you didn't even look at each other just yet. You were both there. And that was all that mattered.

Useless to say that he paid absolutely no attention to the movie on the silver screen. He had no idea of who was staring in it, or what it was about. He barely looked at it to be honest. He was looking at you all the time. My boyfriend. My love. You surely acted like there was truth to those words.

For the first time in the past hour or so he looked away from you. He focused his gaze on the movie playing instead, but only because he wanted to reach to hold your hand, and he wouldn't be able to do it if he looked at you while doing so. That was proven particularly correct as he felt you turning your head just to look at him the moment you felt his touch.

He should've looked though. Maybe then he would see how your eyes proved that Yoongi was indeed your love. Maybe just not your boyfriend. Yet. That was soon to be solved, as he was already planning on how to confess the moment the two of you got out of the movie theater.

You were, after all, calling him your boyfriend for a while now. However, now it was time for him to call you his partner. Oh, and he so would do it. It felt right to do so.

And if it feels right, it must be right.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: shut me up

Reminder that this is all fiction! This does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist: @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics | credits for images 1, 2 and 3

[mkpersephone]

I saw this on Qura about Professor X's character assassination in modern days comics and it fits perfectly:

it's pure character assassination. They've played with this idea before where Xavier's suppressed desires run amok for a while making him evil, or like Onslaught, the writers use the first excuse to make him an outright villain and plot device for "Heroes Reborn". Even Wolverine renaming the school the "Jean Grey School for Higher Learning" is one of the methods of trying to replace Xavier or rewrite his place in the hierarchy or question who is more 'saintly'. But when push came to shove the wheel would turn back because what actually sells (and is popular) is the classic, wheelchair-bound, parental, wise, and caring Professor Charles Xavier. I think they do this in these comics now because comics are dying, and the current writer wants these classic characters parroting their own thoughts and beliefs... even if it becomes the character's epitaph.

Honestly, modern writers DO NOT know how to try to build up a character or idea without tearing something down. And Xavier is always an awesome target because the ideal he stood for when originally created, (just like you pointed out in your answer) is one that ideologically is being opposed by today's progressives. There is no fight for equality, there is only ever varying levels of power and the struggle to have more. Having a straight white male who is a benevolent father figure to the wayward lost souls and moral center to an adoptive family unit is out of the question for modern writers. If you want to destabilize and re-write something in your own image, you attack the root, and Professor Charles Xavier is the root of the X-Men.

This whole story is WAY out of character for Xavier, but in their defense, I would say ever since Krakoa, each writer writes the characters as how they want to interpret the character. And this isn't the first character they've assassinated, including Moira McTaggert. Today, there is no Jim Shooter anymore trying to wrangle the whole bullpen and fighting the writers on bad ideas. (And to be fair, not all of his ideas were good and the writers fought him plenty, but the writers at the time were outstanding pros with long track records of great stories, not twitter account holders on their first comic who were given a job based on their race or sexuality).

When you stop knowing how to make great new characters, (heroes and villains alike), then you're stuck trying to reinvent the characters you have. That's been X-Men's problem for almost the last 20 years; when they make new characters, they're not really good and no one really cares. That leaves using the current stable... over and over and over again.

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[earthtokhal]

It's 4 a.m., and I woke up still absolutely fuming about yesterday because where was Daniel's team? After everything that happened, where was his management team? Why did THEY allow this to spiral like this?

Daniel's take on all of this was fairly positive until he had a shitty quali and then once again got hounded by the same journalists asking the same questions and then it seems like he just simply accepted it.

I think vcarb, Red Bull, and Daniel's own management team severely mismanaged things.

The cash app guy deleting his video doesn't mean too much to me as I was also very surprised that he posted it in the first place because while he posted it from a "fan/friend" point of view answering in his own capacity, he indirectly answered as his company. He told us, through his own personal ig that the company didn't know.

I do not know what the sponsors have to say about this, visa, cashapp but Hugo, their weekend was greatly overshadowed by mismanagement. If this was to be his last, every single one of those sponsors could have capitalized.

After everything that happened with Mcalren, all I wanted was for him to leave on his own terms. Whether he decided to stay and drive for vcarb again, whether he decided to go to Audi or whether he got the Red Bull seat. I wanted him to be on his terms, but the constant talk surrounding his contract took away any chance of that happening regardless of how and what was decided and so I thought, if this was it, they'd let him announce it properly.

Horner, despite making all that noise about how Mclaren treated him, actually did something worse because Daniel trusted him. Daniel put his career back in Horners hand despite everything and trusted him. I do not think there's anything salvageable of their relationship after Spa and now this mess.

I find the timing of all of this oddly specific. We had so many people cryptic posting just two weeks ago, that photographer saying the general idea is that Daniel would take over the red bull seat and then we went to baku expecting a shit storm and it never came. We were just in the eye of the storm. When the "rumor" dropped this week, I thought what a coincidence that it happened just before media day, and so all the questions shifted from performance or what crash to Daniel and he stood alone in the lions den.

It seems like Red Bull hasn't decided (while it's likely looking like it is what it is) and they chose to remain hot and cold about it like they always have been and it absolutely spiraled.

The media surrounding all of this was absolutely atrocious. They allowed people with less impact on the sport to leave with more dignity. They tore him apart, they questioned every single thing until he stood there, tears in his eyes accepting it. This man is a veteran of the sport. A man whose legacy will have a direct link on the grid next year in Jack Doohan. A man who made an incredible mark on our current world champion. A man who had people looking at red bull last year going "they're always ruthless but this is their son."

And at the end of it all, when they backed him against a wall after a long, frustrating weekend, they're all writing messages for him. They wanted to have their cake and eat it too.

Regardless of what's to come, I hope Daniel is incredibly proud of his perseverance. I hope he knows that despite all the noise, he did what he intended to do, he fell back in love with the sport. He proved to himself he still had it. I hope he knows how many fell in love with the sport because of him and how many people learnt so much about his sport. I hope he truly knows the impact he had on this sport and how despite it refusing to love him back like he deserved, he had shone a light on it so bright that it went global.

Daniel Ricciardo will always be THAT guy, and I hope he knows it.

Whatever happens next, I'm glad I found him, and I'm glad I got to experience him being back on the grid.

[artbyblastweave]

If youre still doing it, heroify Lex Luthor

The fish-in-a-barrel answer is Tony Stark, but the intuitive answer, not to mention the version I've actually seen executed at least twice- is that you ask the question- what if he's right, about Superman being bad news?- and then you go from there.

I'm actually going to take this opportunity to talk up one of the few Mark Millar comics that I recommend wholeheartedly, Jupiter's Circle, which is interesting in that the setting's Luthor analogue, Jack Hobbes, is essentially playing Luthor's cope-and-seethe angle completely straight, as a thing which he legitimately believes and which he's ultimately basically correct to believe in spite of most superheroes being at least decent people.

What was interesting to me about this portrayal is that Hobbes eventually decides that he miscalculated, that he can do more good by working with the Utopian as his friend and confidant than by fighting him every step of the way. It's a straight-up Lex Luthor redemption story. But the thing is that the setting of the comic as a whole is predicated on the idea that he was actually completely correct- although he doesn't live to see it, although he dies thinking he was initially misguided, the long-term trajectory of the setting is that superheroes eat the world, politics and activism alike subordinated to their petty grievances and soap opera idiocy. A major plot point of the second volume of this was that Not!Batman's turn towards militant leftism gets completely written off by his 1960s contemporaries because they're so used to reading his behavior through the lens of whiny rich-kid superhero interpersonal drama that they just can't parse it correctly. The comic advances that there's a self-centeredness and egotism inherent to the superhero that makes them suck ass at effecting long term positive change, but they also aren't going away, and they can blow up skyscrapers. At the point where I stopped reading, the setting was implied to be caught in a kind of boom-and-bust doom cycle where the superheroes gradually create a singular hegemony, then collapse into hyperdestructive infighting over what to do with that hegemony once they run out of conventional supervillains to fight- the aftermath of which clears the board for a new wave of the classic silver age cops-and-robbers game, which then gradually hegemonizes, ad infinitum. (This is a line of thinking that crops up in a lot of Millar's capepunk work once you know what to look for- Wanted, Old Man Logan, and to some extent The Ultimates all being examples.)

Another example of Heroic Lex Luthor, which I've written about before, is the comic Edison Rex, a comic whose pitchline is that the setting's Luthor analogue, the titular Edison Rex, turns out to have been completely correct that the setting's Superman analogue was an unwitting sleeper agent for an alien invasion, and steps up to replace him as Earth's foremost protector after finally neutralizing him- but since all he really knows how to be is a supervillain, his management style and problem-solving methodology from his time as an ends-justify-the-means anti-superman crusader translate to the new job with extremely mixed results. The comic ran 18 issues and remains unfinished, but it was pretty good.

[googleitlol]

Two questions! Well, one’s more like a prompt/scenario, but I’m still saying it!

Do you have any plans on getting back to your “The Memory of You” fanfic in the future? Because I’m a certified Macaque wimp (right there with Wukong) and I’m dying to know everything that happened between him and Lian!😭

And second:

I just got myself Black Myth Wukong brainrot and I randomly thought of a situation where Dove would wake up from a nightmare about Wukong’s death, and she instinctively places a hand over the Destined One’s heart to hear it beating because of his resemblance and everything. And the Destined One just helps hold her hand to his chest and resting his own hand over hers until she calms down🥲💘💞

1) Omg tbh I didn't realise ppl were still reading that one! I'm focusing on PoM rn so I don't think I'll be getting to it anytime soon unfortunately. I do wanna continue it tho, and rewrite some stuff too! My google doc is so big for TMoY that if you wanted, I could totally answer some asks about it. Since I'm focusing on Dove and Wukong rn, I wouldn't mind sharing some secrets about Lian and Macaque's past (I will yap so much abt them, I love Lian she's my sweetheart).

I also took a break from writing that fic because, uhhhhh… I had only seen part of season 4 when I started writing the backstory for Lian, did some research into chinese mythology and legends I could pull from… then after posting a bunch of chapters, I watched the rest and realised I accidentally made her backstory/creation extremely similar to someone else (if you're caught up on the show, you'll know who I'm talking about). They both involve, uh… similar people?? So I got spooked and decided to wait a bit to see if that character's backstory would be like what I'd written for Lian and… it's starts out very similar 💀

But honestly, I think I'm gonna keep it the same cuz I love Lian, and I love the story I've made for her and Macaque. So if you've got any questions abt them, I'd be happy to answer until I shift my focus back onto TMoY.

2) Oh, and… my god. I love this idea of yours. That dream. Hoo boy, that dream. I love it when people understand the sort of angst I wanna put Dove under. Running to her love, knowing what's about to happen but too far to stop it. Maybe if he saw her, if he knew she was coming, maybe he'd still be there. But no matter how much her throat scratches as she screams, no sound is made. No matter how fast she runs, how far she pushes herself, nothing changes.

The Destined One frowns, he's seen her like this on so many nights. There's something that's plaguing her… he just doesn't know what. She shuts him down at any and all moments he has to inquire about her night-terrors. Still, he's found a subtle way to help in the best way he can. After one night where she reached out for him and he let her hand press against his chest, he noticed how she calmed a bit.

That becomes their nightly ritual. Whenever he notices how she starts to mumble in her sleep, shout and cry, he'll cuddle up next to her and hold her in his arms. He'll keep her head pressed against his chest so she can hear his heart– that always calms her down. As long as she has something, her hand or even an ear pressed to his heart, she'll calm down. Maybe the first few nights he started doing this, she'd cuddle up to him a bit. He'd be awkward about it at first, but eventually grow used to it. After a while, he'd find that he actually really enjoys spending those nights with Dove in his arms.

[berrydastudygirl]

What is Active Recall And How To Master It?

Active recall is a study technique where you actively retrieve information from your memory. Sounds pretty hard? It actually isn't. There are lots of forms of active recall for everyone, it doesn't matter if you are a visual or auditory learner, and today I want to introduce you to some of these methods.

Flashcards. You probably heard about them before, but maybe you weren't sure how to use them or what purpose they served.  All you have to do is write an explanation of the topic or definition of the word on a piece of paper and then write the answer on the other. It is an easy way to revise effectively.

Mind-mapping. It is another popular but well-working technique for visualizing and memorizing complex ideas. What you have to do is grab a piece of paper, and start writing (or drawing) from the central idea. You can make your mind maps visually attractive so you would enjoy revising the information.

Teaching others. This is not the first thing that comes to our mind when thinking about different ways of studying, right? Surprisingly, teaching others can be even the most important step of active recall. Why? Think logically. Then you write a test the most important skill is to be able to explain the concept clearly, so you can prove you that understand it. That is exactly what teaching is about, isn't it? So try this technique after learning a new concept to check if you are good enough to explain it with ease.

Last but not least, in-class questions. It may seem hard to ask for an explanation during classes, after all, you don't want people to think that you don't fully understand. I'm going to tell you a secret. No one cares. Even the mean kid in the first row. Believe me. I'm going to tell you even more. I'm sure someone in class wanted to ask the exact same question but was too shy to do that. Asking in-class questions can help you understand things immediately, so you don't have to Google it at home.

Hope you'll find it helpful!

[districtsleepsalonetonight]

This started out polite and I would have given an entirely polite answer, but oooh, they swerved right into condescension with that last sentence…

Firstly, I tagged the analysis with Jared Padalecki because his character is in the scene and is mentioned in the analysis. The same way I’m tagging this post because it’s literally about a question that was asked regarding his tag.

Secondly, I don’t have to apologise to you for tagging an actor in a post discussing a scene that literally features that actor. Especially when I see plenty of anti hellers intentionally tag their posts “Destiel” or “hellers” so it shows up in those tags.

Thirdly, I just gotta say, while I could understand people being annoyed if something triggering was included in a tag, the idea of actually messaging someone to berate them for the fact you had to accidentally see content for a ship you don’t like is just wild to me.

Like. Come on.

Mentioning that a trigger warning is missed is a totally different matter. The idea of actually thinking to go and complain to another user because I temporarily saw content for a ship I don’t like is just hilarious.

(Loving the ever-so-condescending tone at the end with “your fanfiction” too. But, y’know, I take the higher road.)

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

I'm just getting too excited reading the snippets

Thank you! Damn 186 for 🦷:

---

“Dad, can I tell you something?” Chris asks, with a little sigh, like he’s having to break something very simply down to a child.

“Uh, of course, Chris.”

“I only have one day left of being smarter than you, so I should maybe give you advice.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asks. 

“Because I still have my wisdom teeth,” Chris explains.

Right, Eddie. Keep up. 

“That’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “It’s all downhill after today. Your brain will turn to mush.”

Chris rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just saying,” Chris presses. “I’m more wise than you still. So listen to me.”

There’s something really serious in his tone, so Eddie stops joking. 

“Okay,” he says. 

“The first person you said who made you feel comforted was Buck. Twice. That means something, Dad. I think you’re used to feeling bad and you don’t know how to do things that make you feel good.”

Eddie feels like he’s been struck. Not for the first time today. 

“So, you think I should try something different, huh?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over tears just a little. 

Chris nods. “Yep. I think whatever the opposite of what Grandma and Abuelo would say is what you should do, probably.”

Well, that’s an idea. That logic carried him from El Paso to Los Angeles. Kept him here despite their pressure for him to return. That logic wrote Buck’s name in his will instead of theirs. And none of those things have been decisions that Eddie regrets. 

“That…” Eddie exhales. “That might be really good advice.”

“Because of my wisdom teeth,” Chris says.

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, buddy. Because of your wisdom teeth, for sure.”

iv.

Buck ends up coming with them to Christopher’s surgery appointment. Eddie didn’t ask. He just sort of shows up in the morning, assuming Eddie would want someone to sit with him. He’s right, of course. Eddie knows it’s just dental surgery and comes with very little risk, but Eddie absolutely wants company. Buck’s company. 

They sit side-by-side in waiting room chairs, clutching paper cups of coffee, during the surgery. They’re the only people in the room. Eddie can hear a clock ticking. There’s a television playing the news silently. Eddie’s leg is tapping.

“Hey,” Buck says gently, hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s going to be totally fine.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a simple procedure. That’s… That’s not why I’m nervous.”

Buck frowns. “Why are you nervous, then?”

Well, great question. Not one Eddie really wants to answer. 

“Uh…” Eddie struggles. His throat feels very dry. He takes another sip of coffee before answering. “I have… Well, I had a sort of crazy conversation with Christopher yesterday while grocery shopping.”

“This is why you shouldn’t grocery shop without me,” Buck says, kissing his teeth chidingly. “Always ends in chaos.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I can remember grocery store chaos caused by you. And uh, it was actually a good conversation.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What was it about?” Buck asks, leading the conversation because he can see Eddie is too nervous to just do it himself. 

“Uh, a lot of things,” Eddie says. “But I ended up sort of… Well, I came out to him.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins. “Eddie, that’s amazing! How did he take it?”

“Good,” Eddie nods. “He… Yeah, he was great.”

“Ah, man. I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was weighing on you.”

“It was,” Eddie agrees quietly.

“So, then… Why are you nervous?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Here it goes.

“Well, Chris is a smart kid, you know?”

“Of course,” Buck replies, still confused. 

“It didn’t take him very long to ask if this meant I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s expression goes completely still. His eyes get big. Wide. Anxious. 

“Uh, wh-what… What did you tell him?” Buck stammers. 

“That I do,” Eddie whispers. His eyes flicker to the floor. He almost doesn’t want to see Buck’s reaction. 

“Oh,” Buck exhales. “And, uh… He-he was okay with that?”

Eddie nods. “Pretty much told me not to be stupid and do something about it.”

“Is that what this is?” Buck asks. 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “Not enough for you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to be given roses or something,” Buck smirks. “A string of pearls even.”

“Well, we’re in the waiting room of a dental surgery clinic. So I can offer you…” Eddie looks around the room. “An issue of USA Today from four months ago.”

“I’ve always wanted that,” Buck says. “I just need to know about Ben and Jennifer. Do you think they’re going to make it this time?”

“I have bad news,” Eddie tells him.

Buck smiles. His eyes crinkle a little. Eddie’s not sure if they did that, back when they met. Eddie thinks, somehow, he just keeps getting more and more beautiful with every year that he knows him. He’s sitting right beside him now, all loose curls and twinkling eyes. And Eddie realizes he’s so fucking lucky. Because as nervous as he is right now, he’s not uncertain. He knows. He knows this beautiful, kind, unbelievably generous, and not nearly as funny as he thinks man loves him back. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re nervous,” Buck says softly. “Eddie, you have to know…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly. 

“I love you, too,” Buck says. “Like… Obviously.”

Eddie smiles. “I thought so… I just…” 

“What?” Buck asks gently. 

Fuck. Eddie doesn’t really know how to explain. 

“My son sort of psychoanalyzed me,” Eddie blurts. “And, uh… And the conclusion was… He thinks maybe I don’t make decisions that are good for me because I’m used to feeling bad.”

Buck’s jaw drops. “Chris said that?”

“Yeah, I think my parents kind of messed him up in a different way from what I did.” Eddie admits. 

“He’s not messed up, Eddie. Just hurt. That’s all.”

“See?” Eddie says. “See, it’s that. He’s right. It’s like my brain is sort of wired for guilt, and… And I don’t want it to be. I just, I’m scared I’ll screw it up with you, too.”

Buck nods, thinking. He takes a good moment to contemplate.

“Okay,” he eventually sighs. “Okay, well then I won’t let you.”

Eddie sighs. “What?”

“Yeah, I just won’t,” Buck presses. “I’m good at that. I think Bobby and I are the only people you listen to.”

Because they’re the only people close enough to Eddie to know what he wants and have his best interest at heart. They always have. 

“Buck, it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” Buck replies, turning in the seat a little so his knees are pressing into Eddie. “I-I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have brought this up at all if you didn’t want me to talk you into it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to object. That’s just… 

Okay, it’s completely true. He does that, doesn’t he? Waits until he’s ready for Buck to give him permission to do right by himself. He always has. 

Wow.

“We know each other better than anyone,” Buck says. “We won’t let each other be idiots.”

And that’s… Well, that’s true, too. Eddie has always been able to talk Buck down from letting things get out of hand. From spiraling. From making every problem on earth his problem. So… So maybe Buck is right. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks. 

Buck grabs his hand. “I promise.”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

https://www.tumblr.com/batmanisagatewaydrug/761919124962181120/hi-there-sex-witch-umm-im-a-cisgender-lesbian?source=share hi! same anon, umm i do talk to her, i talk to her all the time about this i ask her questions to an almost excessive degree because i want to get things right, also like- she doesn't really seem to know fuck about shit either. this is her first time being in a relationship with someone who actually gives a shit about her wants and needs so she's still figuring out what those are. what i was more sort of looking for was like- general advice because i do not know how the body of an amab person not on e differs from the body of an amab person who is on e. lots of people in the tags were saying to read "Fucking Trans Women" and the thing with that is i've tried and have run into this problem where i'm broke and can't afford to read it (sorry if this is a mouthful or if the answer is the same i just want to make her happy so fuckin bad)

hello again, anon!

here's the thing: there's no universal "this feels good" guide, for anybody. of any gender, genitalia, or hormone composition.

you know how the clit is supposed to be, like, The Thing for people who have it? it is, sometimes. but I've also known all manner of clit-havers who just... do not get what the fuss is. they could take it or leave it, their cup of tea, as it were, is being poured from a completely different pot. I'm a bit skeptical that there's any such thing as a universal human experience at all, and certainly not when it comes to something as subjective as what makes you bust a nut. I agree with folks in the replies saying Fucking Trans Women is a neat resource, but it's hardly guaranteed to answer your questions - you're trying to fuck your partner, not Mira Bellwether.

if your partner also doesn't have a strong idea of what gets her off, great! lay out some ground rules and observations together so you can start from the same place - are there any body parts or behaviors that are a hard no? what are you're mutually curious about? what do each of you do when you masturbate? etc - and then play! just have fun touching each other (in ways that you're both agreed are okay, obviously) and seeing what happens. not everything is going to be a life-changing orgasmic experience, but it will be fun and silly and teach both of you a lot about what you do and don't like while you get to know each other's bodies better.

"talk to your partner" doesn't mean "your partner needs to have a tedtalk prepared on how they want to be fucked," it means "partnered sex is a conversation."