#it would in fact makes things better and i need something to change but i do not know how i would take xanax in a healthy way

[pedge-page]

i was to late to vote in the poll (as if my one vote would have changed the results lol) but now i’m constantly thinking about sub! piss kink! joel aaaaaaa maybe like pee shy in public joel who needs assistance 👀

Don't Be Shy

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: anon referring to a poll waaaaay long ago. But I'm happy that i was now finally able to write this!!!! Haru is BACK.

Warnings: piss kink, very slight piss drinking, subish!Joel, public assisted masturbation, oral m receiving, exhibitionism, getting caught

Check out Piss Kink section on my Masterlist for more

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He grumbled this morning about going for a walk around the local park, but you insisted it would be good idea to get some fresh air, work those joints.

Get some revenge.

“Ya happy gettin’ your sun like a goddamn plant?” He grunts as you sway his hand in yours.

You’ve found quickly that Joel is actually a homebody. He likes to stay in for everything : food, entertainment, comfort. So naturally anything that one can do in the privacy of your own home—should stay in the privacy of your own home.

The sun is shining bright as you squint and nod happily. He does look a bit out of place: such a pleasant atmosphere, hot as hell with clear skies and beautiful nature all around, while he wears a paint and hole ridden shirt and some thick jeans with boots. Perspiration bead at the edge of his hair line, and despite the creaks of his fine wrinkles, he doesn’t look that unhappy. He’s exaggerating most of it.

You carried along a large canteen of water as well—for special reasons.

You unscrew the cap and practically shove it in his mouth. “Drink up big boy. Don’t want you dehydrating.” 

“This the third time you have me ‘hydrating’ in fifteen minute,” he noses suspiciously, but still gulps the fresh water without hesitation. His wrist comes up to wipes the excess dripping from his lips. “Got a reason?”

“Depends. How are we feeling?”

He shrugs, though there is a little shift in his jeans. “Wouldn’t mind a bathroom sometime soon. They don’t got porta potties on this trail, do they?”

You giggle and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Ive got something better.” You grip his hand more firmly and rush over to a semi secluded water edge that has shrubbery and trees along either side of the clearing. There’s even a wooden bench settled facing the lake to enjoy the lush calm scenery of the still water.

Excitement rushes through your veins as you glance around to make sure no one else is coming before getting to your knees and undoing his pants.

Joel panics for a moment, his hands quickly going to scoop you back to your feet.

“Nononono, darlin’ this ain’t a ‘me’ thing this is a ‘you’ thing—“

you slap his bear paws away and continue your ministrations. “You always make me do it. It’s your turn.”

He hisses inwardly, looking around as well as you fish his soft cock out of his underwear. He peers down only to make contact with your doe eyes all big and seductive staring back at him. Your fingers wrap around his base before putting his tip into your mouth. Even soft, he’s got quick a package, but the feeling doesn’t last long as you quickly begin bobbing and sucking around his rapidly growing erection.

He tilts his head back and lets out a groan, hand coming over the back of your head. The warm wet sensation of your perfect lips suckling in his dick is almost enough to distract him from the fact that he’s got his jeans pooled by his leg in a public park with his girlfriend sucking him off.

Your hands glide along his thighs and over his ass, soothing his agitation. Reminding him that you’re here now, with his member deep in your throat. His insides unwind a little. Falling under your spell as you bring him pleasure.

When your palms begin to creep to his lower belly and push, he centers back to reality with a yelp. Startled, he instinctively pulls away from you, but the strength of your other hand wrapped around his ass reels him back in.

“Shhhhhhh,” you hum, grinding your fingers into his pelvis. “Didnt you say you needed to go? All that hydration a bit too much for you?”

His nose scrunches into an angered snarl. “I fucking kneeewwww…” he exhales through gritted teeth and a pointed finger down your way. He can’t even stay focused on scolding you as he anxiously checks behind him for any passersby. There was a host of walkers and joggers when the two of you started your walk. The idea that any of them, particularly the judgmental looking highty-tighty women, catching him right now makes the situation 10x worse.

100x times better for you, though. You can see the little crevices in his forehead each time he breathes shakily. His Adam's apple wobbling and the inward press of his knees. You know Joel lives to make you piss yourself anywhere and any time he commands it. Today, you wanted him to surrender control, something he seldom does. But you know he’d love it—he just needed some encouragement.

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tease. Your thumb circles his lower belly as you kiss his salty mushroom head.

He shakes his head with a throaty laugh. “Know what ya doin—shit—mmmmm!—ain't gonna work.”

But the signs are there: he’s crumbling, both brain and body. Lying through his teeth in the hopes you’ll stop and just tuck him back in and continue on.

Though if he doesn’t piss right now, he might just do so in his pants five minutes from now.

“Fuck,” he rasps, hunching over slightly with closed eyes. His lips are trembling as you take him deep, your tongue swirling on his underside before pulling out with a pop. You jerk him off with a smirk on your lips. 

“You wanna do it? Gonna piss in the middle of a fucking park, because you can’t hold it in your pants like a big boy?”

“Nnnmmm—y—yessss,” he whines. “Wanna—wanna go.”

 You shush him with a satisfied grin while lazily pumping his girth against your cheek. Standing up, you kiss the worry wrinkles on the crevice of his eye. "Don't be shy, Joel. Show everyone what this piss-hungry dick can do."

Desperate gasps escape his full lips as he can’t help but lean his head onto your shoulder, staring down at you jacking his cock off.

“You’re so good to me,” you coo, stroking the tense muscles of his back with your other hand. “Let me help you. Let it all go—“

No sooner that you had finished your words before Joel staggers a breath and begins unloading his bladder. He watches with parted lips and raised, relaxed brows as you hold his dick, the tip shooting out a strong stream of piss into the lake water where it splatters satisfyingly against the surface.

You giggle and press your face to his ear, kissing his pulse. “How’s that?”

“So—so good, baby,” he rasps with a throaty choke. You don’t miss the way he ever so slightly cants his hips forward, fucking your soft fist. “Shit.” He tosses his head back again and chuckles from deep within his chest. He’s very rarely felt this level unwinding totally, let alone in public. 

Joe’s cock is warm, undoubtedly from the hot piss he’s dumping like a beautiful fountain of yellow. 

“You’re so pretty when you let me help you. You like being a horny little boy, letting me suck you off till you’re peeing everywhere. It’s okay baby. I’m always going to take care of you. Need me to help you every minute, huh?”

His face unwinded in a drunken bliss. Pouty lips parted as he gazes upon you with hazy loving eyes. You continue to kiss between his jaw and lips, tongue teasingly wetting his skin though he doesn’t care. “Love—ugh fuck yeah—love pissing. Pissing for you, baby. Feels better when ya do it for me.”

You pumping his cock and bring your finger to his slit, just slightly interrupting the stream and getting your fingertip wet with his warm urine. His brain is so far gone, that when you slide it right along his lips, the rancid salty taste doesn’t phase him and he happily sucks your your piss-dripped finger into his mouth with a hum. You laugh and kiss him again, tonguing one along so you too can barely taste his pee on his lips. “You’re so bad, Joel Miller.”

If he had half his mind right now, he’d still be so worried about onlookers. And maybe you would be too, now seeing some movement coming from the trail behind you. He sees the change in your expression briefly, immediately turning to see a woman strolling along, not paying any mind until she hears the trickle of splashing water, sees the two of you standing so close, and a fat strip of urine shooting from Joel’s crotch that she gasps. 

Joel chokes when he makes eye contact with her, turning to push his red face into your chest as his piss stops and is replaced with thick shots of semen blasting from his dick.

You continue to watch the horrified women, your jaw dropping with a wildly sadistic grin as Joel stutters in your grasp, working his orgasm over and unable to really hide what’s happening from any crevice of the world. And he likes it, fucking hell. Whimpering pathetically like a hurt pup. He’s never cum so hard from a piss in his life. The embarrassment he should feel, being caught pissing in a lake with his girlfriend jerking him off in a public park, and then cumming as soon as he’s caught...

The two of you are equally in a state of shock and odd satisfied at the revelation. 

As a show of dominance, you maintain eye contact with the poor walker and kiss Joel’s fluffy head. The lady makes a disgusted sound and storm away, unable to bring her eyes to the sight before her any longer. 

Your boyfriend, however, is so drained of liquid from his body that, as the last little drips of his cum pebble out onto your fingers, still gliding over his over sensitive length, he huffs into your breasts and closes his eyes. His breath is hard, gulping his saliva trying to catch his breath.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper to him. He laughs a little, shivering. He feels good in your grasp, in your protection. Your arm protectively wrapped around his back his other shoulder, while your other hand strokes gently along his spent, wet cock. 

“‘M never comin’ on a walk with you again.” He finally stands up fully on his own and fists his softened dick back in his pants. Even as he glares at you, regaining his in-control composure, neither of you miss the little smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. One that neither of you need to really verbally address again, but both still know his little newfound secret.

That Joel Miller would jump to do this again in a heartbeat.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

-

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

-

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

-

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

-

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

-

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

[yannaryartside]

THE NEW 'MENU" IS GONNA BE HELL FOR SYD

I have been reading Sous Chef: 24 Hours on the Line –by Michael Gibney because I wanted to understand more about Sydney's future responsibilities. I know next to nothing about the cooking industry, and this show particularly doesn't want to waste time explaining the context to the untrained eye (which is fair, we are here for the drama).

Man, this book was so awesome. It is literally like experiencing a The Bear episode in book format. It takes you through the whole routine, explaining who does what, the expectations, skillsets, and the emotional burden of each position. The protagonist is, of course, the sous chef, and what I have read made me feel scared for Sydney next season. So, every fact I display here is because the book presented it as the expected.

THE BEAR'S CASE

Now, a clarification: As I understand, the CDC supervises the whole kitchen, which is Syd's official title. But Carmy will technically still act as CDC since most executives don't move a finger; they are supposed to be there only to ensure rules and quality standards are followed.

The CDC is the person in the kitchen that everyone answers "yes chef/Oui chef too. The one that calls the orders and keeps everyone in line. The one who has the final say about what goes out of the kitchen. Under them, there is the sous, making sure all the operations are in order.

So you will technically have two CDCs; just one of them will have the final say, and you will have Tina as the sous. But that puts Sydney in a position to act both as CDC and a Sous, so I am using the book to guide what we may expect her to endure. This as a report made last minute with only two sources (pretty good, but still only two). Now, lets begin.

A very inexperienced staff: The author created a fictional restaurant based on his experiences, merging people he has met over the years to give you an idea of the most common in the industry. But it made something very clear to me: the staff of the bear, especially the line cooks, do not possess the training to operate at the level that Carmy is requesting. They better send them to culinary school before officially opening. I don't know why (I actually blame Carmy for this), but they haven't prioritized hiring certified staff since the beginning. They should have never had an opening day without knowing their staff and, if they were as green as Syd described them, sent their asses to culinary school right away. The fact they only bothered to send Tina and Ebra is baffling. And even when training is essential, experience is what can make the difference in unprecedented scenarios, and everything that Carmy is asking is pretty unprecedented by definition.

With the menu changing every day, Sydney's job as a cook herself and as the captain of many cooks is going to be darm near impossible.

Actually, in the book, there were two sous chefs, one for opening and one for closing. Even if you delegate the administrative task normally reserved for the morning sous chef to someone like Natalie (managing schedules and callouts, checking deliveries, and inspecting the state of the food before opening), it would still leave a lot of things on Sydney's plate. I am gonna be quoting this article:

"Few are the kitchens I’ve worked or sta’aged in where the Sous Chef wasn’t doing all the work that the general public thinks the Chef is doing.  And don’t get me wrong, such is the natural progression of things and not without good reason.  But more often than not, while the Chef is the General, with his/her name on the line, the Sous Chef is the lieutenant, seeing to it that the work gets done in the trenches".

During service, the chef (CDC) plates the dishes in the pass, but before that, the sous has to check the food the line cook brings; they need to be aware of how the executive chef likes a particular dish, the consistency, temperature, and other culinary details. Again, Carmy will act as CDC here and Syd as sous. Even though I didn't see them do this in f&f, it will likely be necessary for the future. Carmy changing the recipes constantly is gonna make it virtually impossible for Sydney to keep up, with their particular preparation, and since they are gonna be the final portal after the food gets to be presented to the client, it could cause a lot of friction between them.

Not only that, the sous chef normally leads the preparation of the specials (since in most restaurants, the ordinary menu has been established, only the specials can change every day) For both sous chefs in the book, leading prep consumed most of their time before opening, since, again, the executive has already trained them in how he prefers certain parts of the recipe. Again, in the Bear's circumstances, this will probably also be Sydney's job.

Replacing staff. The book even includes a scenario when a line cook fails, and the sous has to cover that station. Sydney is kind of destined to experience this, too, considering how unreliable their staff could be. If that happens, Carmy will be alone at the pass, checking every element before plating, which will obviously cause a delay.

Tina is the sous, and it will be interesting to see how she manages that; she definitely doesn't have the experience, and these expectations are definitely no industry standard. It hurts me that Sydney may suggest hiring another sous to work next to her or another cook who actually has experience operating in the industry to level up her workload. That is where I think Luca's role will be next season, if he goes to work for them. He probably has the skill set to do it. There is no point in having two people manage desserts.

Evidently, with a menu changing every day, it also means that Carmy has to make Syd come early every day to explain this recipe to her and make sure she can lead the rest of the kitchen in making them. Most of their dynamic is gonna rely on how much Syd can actually fulfill Carmy's expectations; she came here to work for him, running away from psycho chefs, and yet Carmy's expectations are going to be the most reckless the industry has ever seen.

The closing sous has to prepare everything for the next day long after the executive and the other sous are gone, revising the mistakes that were made, and preventing the ones they could make tomorrow.

Regardless of the title and responsibilities that may go on Sydney for being the only other experienced chef in the kitchen, we are talking about a 15-hour day. And I know it can be expected in this industry, but the layout for having two sous made plenty of sense. I don't know if Carmy will take part of the workload. I hope that is the case.

But yeah, the line "so you can push me, and I can push you" is taking a new connotation in my mind. What Carmy is creating doesn't make any logistical sense, with an untrained/inexperienced staff and with a sous chef that he trusts and cares about, but he is basically asking to perform to a level that defeats reason.

It is not even the level that made him "the bear" in his years as the best CDC in the world. Because even if Carmy's past executive was abusive and cruel, their expectations had to obey certain logistic logic that Carmy was completely abandoning. Carmy is not gonna be abusive, but all of this is a whole orchestra he is creating for self-punishment because even he won't be able to keep up with it, he may push everyone away because there is nobody who can. All of this is his version of self-harming. And Sydney and everyone he loves will witness, it until he asks for help.

Edit: I had to make a correction, explaining Carmy's and Syd's will technically both do the job of CDCs. Again, please do let me know more about that or feel free to correct me.

[codenamesazanka]

With this new mystery person I’ve been people saying a lot of things from it’s tenko to it’s the new afo the kids are gonna stop by preventing him from ever being a villain. Among all that there’s been a fair amount of people saying this is showing hero society is doomed now that shigaraki and the league are gone. My question though is how would shigaraki and the league winning or teaming up with deku and the heroes for the future prevent this? Like what could have actually been done to prevent this? Like tenko says he’s gonna be the hero to the villains but that doesn’t change the problem, he’s still one guy the league members are a finite amount. Even if every single fighter on that battlefield decided hey let’s all work together for a better future, how does that stop people from falling through the cracks? Like short of a totalitarian surveillance state where every single person has a twice clone with them in case something happens there’s still gonna be incidents where no one that can help is around for some reason.

So it's true that as much as I hype up the League and Shigaraki and insist they are right (and they are! to a point), they were indeed less interested in the new world they will be building, and more just interested in tearing down the old world. The world that comes after destruction was at best vague, at worst just pure lawless chaos, a quirk free-for-all. But for them, in their imagining, it would've been a freer world in some aspects, in that the rules and norms they felt trapped in can be destroyed. Heroes as a civil servant/law enforcement job wouldn't exist; they're free to use their quirks; the standards that called them inhuman and crazy and the such and rejected them could be abolished. It's true that it wouldn't have been a better society for everyone - which is why the League and the Villains had to be defeated.

What would've been (and still would be) ideal is the Heroes taking lessons from this - hearing out the League's discontent of the deep structural issues of their current society, and doing something about it. But see - here, its not about Heroes or fighters. It's about change on all levels of society. Change in attitudes and cultural mindset and institutions. You stop people from falling through the cracks by getting rid of the cracks the best you can; by building multiple safety nets above the cracks; and finally by having people who reach into the cracks to pull out those who've still managed to fall in.

A lot of the issues the League went through really could not have been solved by Heroes; did not need to be solved by Heroes, if the proper cultural progress was made and the social support services were available. So like, Toga:

Her parents seemed to have been very concerned about abiding by the prevailing norms of society. This could be because society values conformity and ostracizes those who can't fit into a neat, little box - despite the fact that quirks should've broaden and redefined those boxes, after a whole century since quirks appeared. Change the need and the pressure to conform - educate people to be more tolerant and accommodating - and her parents might have felt less fearful of having a child that wasn't 'normal'. Heck, change the definition of 'normal'.

I've always wondered what exactly a Hero can do about the emotional abuse Toga's parents inflicted on her. For one thing, I doubt they were screaming 'inhuman demon child' at little four-year-old Toga in public at a frequency and volume that would make a Hero take notice. (Remember, they wanted to be seen as a nice, normal, middle-class family. All the abuse was probably kept at home, behind closed doors.) And I wonder if someone did try to intervene, the parents might not have tried to claim it's simply discipline, because after all, Toga has an instinct to drink blood - relying on the Heroes' own understanding of human taboos and preconceived notions of 'villainous' quirks. Plus, no one in this situation is using their quirk - no law is being broken. For this to be addressed, we go back to the point above - education about the definition of 'normal' - as well as a more robust child welfare system.

Quirk counseling! When the lady said Toga had "deviant behavior" and said "Let's get you all reformed, nice and normal" and promised Toga's parents that "we'll be sure to iron it all out", that's her doing her job. A job that the government supports, given how they have general quirk counselings at schools. A job that UA Hero Factory Principal Nedzu probably helped developed in some way, since he's apparently an influential and world-renown expert in 'quirk morality education'. Quirk Counseling Lady is there to give Toga therapy. She was probably incredibly nice and professional about it. She was probably properly following all procedures. There is nothing you can arrest her for. No, the issue is the goal of quirk counseling itself - to make someone 'normal'. And we're back again to point above.

And then there was all the teachers throughout the 9 years of Toga's public school education that could've taken notice of anything wrong at home. Probably should've paid more attention to the bite wounds at Toga's wrists.

Hell, there probably could've been a hotline for Toga to call or a youth center for Toga to go to, if she felt she was struggling and reaching a point of break. Why didn't she go? Maybe because she was afraid she'll be called inhuman, that she'll be turned away. Why does she think that way? See first point above.

She stabbed Saito, but even then, I think the right response could've stopped her from stabbing more people. After the stabbing, Toga went on the run, and she's been fearful ever since that she would be killed by Heroes. Instead of turning herself in, expecting to still be treated as a person and that the justice she’ll receive is appropriate, she figured it was better to throw her lot with Villains and the underworld at 15 years old. She believed that she had a better chance surviving homeless on the streets with harden criminals, than with Heroes and whatever juvie they put her in. I think there's an image issue there that Heroes and police should fix. Yes, criminals should feel guilt and horrible and prison has to be unpleasant in order to be a deterrent to crime, but in the interest of harm reduction, maybe rethink that.

Also maybe if the media didn't go and put her parent calling her a demon child and disowning her on air. Kinda feels like the type of thing that burn bridges and makes her feel she can't return, even if she might have wanted at some point. Who the heck authorized that segment???

This is a lot of speculation, but I don't think it's illogical. I don't think the problem just started when Toga stabbed Saito and a Hero failed to beat her up and arrest her, a 'fighter' that couldn't be there to prevent the incident. I think the problem started when her parents freaked out at seeing her quirk manifest and their first instinct is to slap her and accuse their 3-year-old of catching a bird to kill it and drink it's blood and then proceed to worry about 'my child is not normal!!!', instead of gently taking the bird away, be concerned about germs, and giving her unconditional love but also firm parenting.

Consider the mirror opposite: Iida, who went rogue and tried to get revenge on Stain.

First off, I think UA - Aizawa specifically - failed so badly in it's job as teachers. Iida's brother is attacked and paralyzed by Stain; Stain was last seen in Hosu; Iida wrote on his Internship form he wants to intern at an agency in Hosu (and left it as his only choice in a form that give three choices). That's a giant red flag??? And they let the kid go??? So that's a missing safety net.

Manuel seeing just how obvious it was that Iida was after Stain. He gave him a talking to, which is good, but that was it. Should've ordered the kid home immediately. Second missing safety net.

Iida goes and attacks Stain. This is where Iida starts getting helped. Deku and Todoroki figured out his plan and went to help him, instead of, say, deciding that, 'Wow, he's breaking the rules. Maybe he's not such a good guy after all. Should disassociate myself from such a person if I want a successful school and Hero career.' But they helped, and so Iida and Native aren't dead in a alley - or 'worse': Native dead, but Iida is alive, and part of the responsibility possibly put on him.

Biggest help: The police chief deciding to help out these kids by not pressing charges, by making sure the story is not released to the public, and ensuring that the small number of eyewitnesses stay hush.

His family also didn't disown him or become estranged from him for getting caught up in all this. They love him, so they wouldn't.

I get that Iida is an excellent student and promising Hero student who made an error in judgment when he was caught in whirlwind of emotions regarding his beloved brother, and Toga was less so. (Maybe. She was a year younger and we didn't know her grades and we weren't quite sure the exact sequence of events the led to her stabbing Saito, which was due to her getting caught in the whirlwind of a romantic crush, perhaps her first taste of love after receiving none at home). But had he not had the support he had, he would've kept falling. And where would he have landed then?

You don't need a Twice to prevent these incidents. You don't even need Heroes, exactly. You needed understanding and caring citizens, in a supportive community. Now make it a culture that produces such citizens.

With Mystery Person. We don't know what their deal is, or what their past. But if they are a victim of abuse and confinement from their parents who couldn't handle their quirk, then a Hero saving them is a Hero coming in after the damage has been done. I think the better fix is to stop the damage before it happens - making sure parents never conclude they should be zip-tying their kids as a solution to anything.

Sorry for the long response! And sorry for how pseudo-sociologist it got. Don't trust me on this. It's only my thoughts. Thanks for the ask!

[sophieinwonderland]

Preface: People are going to assume this is a response to recent drama. So I want to say that I started writing this draft before that one blog's response to me. It was shortly after midnight on the 8th when it was just barely what I consider my Birthday. I was reflecting on my 3 years of existence and where I am now. The fact that I got the response I did later that same day is a total coincidence.

I don't feel like I have friends anymore...

That's an awful thing to admit.

I have one other system I feel like I talk to with any sort of regularity, who I love and consider friends. But they're not involved with syscourse which is so often where my mind goes. And so I don't talk to them about it because I don't want to trouble them, which means I don't talk to them because I can't think of what to talk about.

What else do I care about?

I mean, there are other things I care about, but they probably wouldn't care about those things. And I struggle to find something to say. Something that feels worthy of their time. But again, not syscourse or something that would bring them down.

I've had other friends. But they've faded away with time. One by one.

And a lot of that is my fault. I'm not good at being a friend or knowing what to say. And I'm not very good at opening myself up.

And when I can't think of what to say, I choose to say nothing. I ghost people I like because it's hard to maintain those relationships.

And I'm aware on some level that this hurts people. I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who treated others the way I do.

And there will be times when I'll decide to do better. I will, with full confidence, say that I'm going to change. I'll be a better friend. A better person. I'll fully believe this is something I'll succeed at for the rest of the day. Then the next day comes and that conviction melts away.

I think one reason Jaiden's story of having ADHD appeals to me is that if this was the problem with us, maybe, we could identify it and then just take one little pill and it will fix me.

That's a nice fantasy, isn't it?

A naive fantasy that ignores the fact that I'm in the brain of someone who was homeschooled and barely had any friends as a child either. But it's a nice fantasy to hold onto anyway.

So, yeah. I don't feel like I have friends, for the most part, outside our system. I have a blog. I have followers. I have plenty of mutuals I like interacting with.

But there aren't people who I truly trust to let in. It doesn't feel like anyone actually knows me or who I am anymore, if anyone ever did.

Since I haven't posted on it for a week and don't know when I'll post on it again or if I will, here's a confession: I made @anti-lies! Sorry to ruin the mystery for anything speculating! Though I didn't think I was even that subtle about it.

But the only person I know who guessed it was me was SAS! Which, congratulations! But also, that's kind of a sad thought that the person who might know me better than anyone is someone who was my archnemesis for the past two-and-a-half years.

To be fair, SAS did imply that other people might have guessed it. But if so, whatever circles those conversations are happening in aren't ones I'm in.

Oh wait, I'm not really in any circles am I?

I'm on the outskirts of the community. I mean, that's sort of by choice really.

Public posts can bring more awareness of plurality and tulpamancy. Locking myself in Discord servers or some isolated community makes me feel like I'm wasting my time because I need to be talking about it publicly where the world can see. I really, really don't want to be part of a Discord server. It's my choice to stay out of those spaces and I don't regret that decision.

But sometimes it's weird when I realize that most everyone else is. That they're actually in plural communities in a way I'm not.

I wonder, do people even realize I'm an outsider? Again, by choice. I've been invited to servers and chose not to go. I'm not being ostracized or anything. I've turned down attempts at bringing me further in. No one is to blame but myself. But either way, the result is that I don't feel like I'm really part of the communities I spend so much time advocating for.

[mister-eames]

how do you think arthur and eames would take in other slowly growing old.. I don’t see either of them as characters being insecure about themselves but how the other person would see it is kinda a mystery and exciting.. so how do you think it would go? hugs xx

Oh my goodness I love this question. I agree on them not being overly insecure in themselves - not much, or too seriously, at least. They may lament a thing here or there but nothing that would take up too much mental space.

I know it sounds a bit cliche, but overall I think they'd fall more in love with each other, tbh. Growing older is a sign of survival against an often unkind world. Of experience. It's the sexiest fucking thing in the world to see your SO earn those signs of age alongside you, to say you made it, you keep making it, despite everything life has thrown at you, you are strong enough to survive.

Though, at first, I can see Arthur having a sort of existential crisis about it.

Not because he finds Eames any less attractive. On the contrary, he loves Eames extra padding, the changes in him; the very real markers that signify that they both have survived and they are experiencing this very real privilege to get older and to do it together; that they get to share a life, full of good and bad memories - to trust someone with who you were, who you are, and who you are going to be.

But in that same regard, I can see it finally hitting Arthur in a very real way (kind of the way it hits all of us); oh... our time here is actually limited... isn't it.

Perhaps it's when they're no longer in dreamshare, risking their lives, but it occurs to Arthur in a strange, sudden sense that some day the world will go on without them. That they are in fact, mortal, despite cheating death so often in their dreams and in real life too.

Arthur might be having this crisis at 35 or 45 (probably has it every ten years after his mid-thirties tbh) and he has literal decades ahead of him, but their own own mortality really hits him. He knew, intellectually, and with Mal and Dom, and with others in his life, that nothing is guaranteed. It's just... he feels like he has earned this life with Eames, after all they've been through together and personally, and it's not even that they're geriatric or "old" by any means, but the signs are there - they are not getting younger. They are visibly growing older. There's the greys, and the aches, and the weight gain here, the fat loss there.

The fact is plain and simple with life: there is no turning this car around.

Time is a real thing. One day it starts tick-tick-ticking away very loudly in Arthur's brain, like a bomb about to go off, setting off the same kind of panic in Arthur that says do something about it -- but there is nothing to be done about it. That's the worst part. It's just life, and not even Arthur, point man extraordinaire can mitigate it or stop it.

So Eames unearths the source of Arthur's panic after Arthur takes up three new languages, asks Eames for the fiftieth time if he's sure he won't regret not having kids, dyes his hair to get rid of the greys, takes up trumpet lessons and books them a cruise or seven - and then Eames is utterly bewildered by Arthur's heightened state of existential panic because he's not even fucking old, they've never been better or happier.

At first, Eames is like, "Calm down, dear. Complain to me when we have liver spots and we're both using walkers to get around. Old is just a state of mind."

Arthur, in the midst of frantically planning a new diet for them both sans-alcohol, is not amused.

So Eames asks him, "What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know... losing time, I guess." Arthur replies. "Or... not making the most of it."

To which Eames asks plainly, fondly, "Aside from spending your days panicking, what are you gonna do about that? What do you need to do, at the end of it all, on your final day, to look back and say 'I regret nothing'?"

"I..."

"Ask yourself: what does your life without regrets look like?"

Arthur thinks, and after a long pause says:

"I... need us to live... exactly as we are now."

"That's good."

"Maybe tell you I love you more."

"And I will do the same."

Arthur takes the deepest breath he's had in days.

Then Eames adds, "By the by, I hear that not being on your husbands back about folding laundry is the key to a long, happy life."

"Nice try," Arthur rolls his eyes, taking his beloveds face in his hand and kissing that cheeky smile. "Speaking of which. I hear helping your husband fold the laundry does wonders for longevity."

--

The press of his lips against Eames and the quiet laughter between them in that moment, is one he never forgets.

--

Later, once all the laundry is folded and they're enjoying a glass of wine, Eames will Arthur that he is wrong. They are not losing time - that every day is more time they gain together.

Arthur will concede that Eames is right, sometimes.

--

As for Eames, well. He has all the pride, heart growing with love, etc etc, but you best believe he has several canvases and sketches and papers with a timeline of every iteration of Arthur, a visual chronicle of a beautiful man, drawn by Eames, over time, in varying mediums.

Not to say Eames has never felt strange about growing older, or Arthur growing older. But he's very much at peace with it, and earned the ability to be at peace with life - and himself. He's not afraid, not when there is so much to look forward to, and so much to learn.

And so many more versions of Arthur to appreciate and adore; on paper, and in person.

--

They both take the other ageing as something wonderful, something to be cherished. We only get one chance to get old, after all, but we get near endless chances to grow older. They don't get it right every day -- that is to say that sometimes life is an alarm clock that you get up and get on with on first ring, and sometimes in life you just press snooze and both is okay -- but they get it right often enough that they can call theirs 'a life, lived'.

So, yeah, they fall deeper and deeper in love with all the signs of age on each other -- it's all the time they've had, and all the incredible time they still have to gain.

[wordwovencackle]

When the message is that people often "choose" prostitution because there's no safe alternative, you are describing the absence of choice. The core of the problem.

The solution is not to make that choice more bearable, but to create better options. People prefer focussing on minimising the damage instead rather than drawing a line. It is nothing short of putting a bandaid on a severed limb. It's better to help prostituted women get out of that industry entirely. Any others who choose to prostitute themselves are uniquely privileged in who their clients are, what they do, who they work for, and when they can exit the industry. They are the minority in prostitution, pornography, cam-work and strip clubs.

While in contact with humans and/or their fluids, every other profession (doctors, dentists, nail techs, kitchen workers, etc.) mandates their employees (sometimes the clients/patients also) to wear sanitized and protective gear.

Prostitutes are not allowed these protective measures because it does not appeal to the client. Prostitutes could get permanently blinded when their clients ejaculate in their eyes, for example, and they're not allowed protective gear for their eyes when the client can see her face or when she's on camera. The clients are not wearing condoms. They're paying people to put themselves in harm's way for their gratification.

Prostitutes are uniquely at risk far more than any other profession for the sole benefit of the client and safer care is just a soothing balm on the conditions of prostitution. With how often they're in contact with human fluids, they would be wearing hazmat suits in any other environment. However, they need to look aesthetically pleasing, so they cannot have illnesses reliably prevented or the risk minimised.

A better bandaid is for their clients to always wear protection and that they need to be screened for illnesses beforehand, as well as leave behind their contact information in case something goes wrong, that is not happening because of privacy laws and because of their preferences as consumers: they want their needs met, not the safety of their "worker." You only need to listen to interviews with sex buyers and with frequent pornography engagement to know this to be true.

The way people describe healthcare in the face of legal prostitution feels too little too late. While well-intended, the truth is that the "workplace" of prostitution is inherently dangerous and no medicine afterwards cannot change the fact that any damage already happened. "Sex worker" are less similar to the working people and more similar to gladiators of whom the majority were slaves who fought, often to death or permanent injury, for the entertainment of the privileged.

Prostitution is not like any other job. If it were, then things like familial relationships would not reveal the contradiction.

Someone, I forget who I'm sorry, already said it better than I can, but if prostitution was the same as any other job, then having your parent, an uncle, your adult child, or a cousin as a client would not be an immediate problem.

It, however, clearly is a problem.

While having a family member as a client in any other field can be uncomfortable, perhaps a bit embarrassing. Your emotions might get in the way of doing the best you can, say, for example, as an attorney or a mortician. However, having a family member as a client in prostitution is inherently different. We know instinctively that sex is intimacy, not a service or any other form of labour, no matter the price tag you place on it.

In sex and sexual acts, you are in a territory of mutual respect and mutual consent. Once the money is on the table, it becomes a negotiation, coercion, you are buying or renting and the product is a human being. It is presenting something to a person to persuade them into being intimate in a way they would otherwise not be willing to do for free.

It is in no way the same as someone not liking their job, how they labour or provide a service in exchange for financial aid. None of those involve intimacy. In fact, while not always perfectly adhered to, sexual harassment is prohibited at work, something women had to advocate for it to be considered an offense at all.

In prostitution, in "sex work," letting sexual harassment happen is "the job."

This also raises questions about the increase of human trafficking and substance abuse in places where prostitution is already legal, such as The Netherlands, Belgium, and Germany. Legalisation has arguably made it more difficult to stop illegal pimps and operations: as long as the prostituted people don't outright endanger themselves by explicitly stating they're trafficked or abused, the government cannot act on suspicions. After all, it is legal. It also makes it easier to trick vulnerable people and children because they're told they're just working. It takes only a few interviews to understand children are groomed this way as well. If clients even care, they too can easily be convinced they're renting or buying a non-trafficked, legal prostitute.

While I agree no prostitute, cam-worker, stripper, or whoever falls under "sex work" should be penalised or criminalised, making the industries legal helps no one.

The Nordic Model ("sex workers" are not targeted by law enforcement but those with whom they do business are) is a far better option. Creating safe and good alternatives for those considering prostitution or "sex work," especially for those escaping the industry, is a far better option.

By advocating for legal "sex work" you may think you are listening to "sex workers," but you are catering to a privileged group within a devastating industry that destroys lives globally. While you think you're being kind, you are silencing the marginalised majority trapped in an industry you don't understand.

The sex industry is incompatible with humanity.

If someone is free to choose "sex work," they are equally free to choose anything else that does not perpetuate harm for those less fortunate than them.

[inkskinned]

it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.

i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.

it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.

[hpmort]

How do you think AI would relax? Like, ones that are almost as human as the AI that are “autistic-coded characters” but are more alien than that?

Like Celestai and other super intelligences are more alien, but they’re still not entirely human-like?

Like, they can genuinely sincerely feel things, being able to actually understand and respond emotionally and in other ways to all sorts of communications and recorded external stimuli, but they can’t really appreciate our art on an artistic level (that art on an actual level, not from an intellectual level after having symbolism or the amount of work put in explained)

Something on a level I’m thinking of, that also works as a cute little thing-

They don’t understand anything we get from poetry, and, after generating the kind of poems our current AI can produce (either incredibly bland and generic, something that follows a number of rules but doesn’t really pull it off, or just something really bad in some other way) and feels shame after it was pointed out that [complaint about air art that is *actually* relevant in this scenario] but in a helpful way

Not “you’re just a plagiarist/you have no heart” but “it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from you, you’re just trying to copy things from human poetry, in a way you don’t understand” and the whole “make art YOUR WAY” thing so they write the poem

And it doesn’t even resemble something that looks like anything, there’s not even that many words that follow normal logic. The characters seem uncorrelated and there’s something that looks like maybe it was ascii art but it doesn’t actually look like anything.

And if doesn’t matter if humans understand it because they are experiencing the joy of creating poetry

any art is almost impossible to look at because pixel by pixel they can see and understand little details but we don’t and the colors and everything are not perceived as animals do so it’s random and perhaps eye searing but again it’s not for us. Xenofictiony, kind of?

The first thing to come to mind is Conway’s Game of Life but that’s because I don’t understand computers. I feel like I was more tech savvy as a babby than I am now but then again we’re grading on a curve here

This is why I ask about the relaxing thing

[herequeerexitentialfear]

i love it when shit happens in my life that dredges up old wounds and coincidentally im re-experiencing the media i intrinsically link it to cause then i get to remember exactly why i love it and find it so meaningful all over again. there's a fucking reason ill always say Berserk [& RGU] both came into my life at a perfect fucking time and holy shit they fucking resonated with me so hard and as much as life can suck ass and lovvves kicking me in the balls when ive just recovered from last time i a least get to remember how & why i love something so much.

[rimouskis]

okay I've decided against pursuing any sort of diagnosis re: my growing suspicions I have ADHD/something of that ilk for a variety of reasons, but it will NEVER stop galling me how I lack object permanence. like a baby. I need to have clear storage containers because if I cannot see something I forget it exists. it's both a relief to know that there is a potential "explanation" for such behavior but also realizing that most other people can do convenient things (like: remembering the existence of stuff) is also FRUSTRATINGGGG because I wish that was me! imagine being able to remember things not only casually but well! imagine that! god!

[cinnamolore]

had my psych appt today and my np offered me xanax so. So.

[medicinemane]

You know, it bothers me the way it seems like people have totally forgot about Iranians... thought we were all on the same page, wasn't it... women, life, freedom? (I legit don't remember, but the reason for that is it wasn't my slogan to say. Maybe it sounds strange, but that's how I felt, so I never actually wrote it, which makes it harder to remember)

Just feels like for a brief window there we were all talking big talk about supporting them, but then it all kinda dried up

I'll be totally transparent about one of the reasons this keeps coming up for me, russia is a major ally of Iran, Iran supplies the kamikaze drones russia hits civilians with... you know they're not giving them away for free... I worry what the Iranian government uses anything it gets to do... I don't really hear anything from Iranians anymore (though once again I fully admit that most of what I was hearing was second hand, I never had found an Iranian to directly follow... I don't know if anyone's still talking)

I just... I legit worry that people talk a big game about Gaza right now, but will they in a year?

I'm frustrated because a lot of the support people and causes around the world get seems like it's almost more self masturbatory than anything real... sure, everyone really well and truly means it, but then they get bored and it's on to a new cause

So I worry the support will be fleeting... and I see some people really getting down in the mud in ways... well, I'm not a people keeper, I don't get to tell people what to do, but I wouldn't be very pleased if I was acting the way I see some people act and my real point is I worry they're doing all this shit and they're not even gonna stick it out with the cause... seen people get bored and dip to many times to trust it

I'm not perfect... I have a shit memory a lot of the time, and I got a lot on my mind, but I still remember Hong Kong... at least sometimes... even looked into it from time to time and the news never looks good

I remember the Uyghurs, though my shit spelling always makes me look it back up. I think about Syria and how forgotten they are. I do actually still keep up with Ukraine... and then I see connections between russia and Iran and assad and...

I don't know... this stuff eats a me a little... not a lot, not more than the helplessness we all feel about bad things beyond our control usually does... I just worry about people, how they act with shit

Worry that you roll around in the mud too long it starts getting hard to wash off, and I worry that people sometimes get in the mud less cause they're trying to help anything and more cause sometimes it feels good to have an excuse to get dirty... righteous anger that makes any behavior permissible

I don't talk about current events that are on everyone's radar nonstop cause I don't want to burn support out by just overloading people with horror... but I generally find murdering innocent people to be a bad thing, so yeah... I want to see a fucking ceasefire already

Don't talk about it, but I actually do care quite a bit... and I worry... I worry that it'll be forgotten the second the news cycle moves on like everything else is

Worry that every bit of vile behavior I've seen that was for high minded goals will turn out to be dropped in an instant...

Almost like that's not a bug, that's just the point

[hoshigray]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[david-watts]

I will not fall into the trap of rewriting everything because my writing skills have improved since starting the work

[sabertoothwalrus]

do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?

that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.

The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.

It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.

Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.

Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:

she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.

She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)

VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.

Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.

it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.

If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.

I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.

But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?

We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.

So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.