#like. how the fuck did I manage to learn english without really learning about the grammar lmfao

[metalfeather]

brb cracking time travel just so I can go back in time to my 10 year old self and kick his ass asking for how he managed to rawdog learning English

[tropes-and-tales]

Lieutenant Steal-Your-Girl

Day 8: Cuckolding (Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Light angst (relationship woes); open relationships; cuckolding, but not really, I think I did this one wrong but got too deep to turn back; Jake is a bad boyfriend; smut (Oral, F!receiving; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count:  5536

AN:  This was requested for Kinktober by an anon!

AN2: This might not be for everyone. People feel A Certain Way about open relationships, and this is very much a Reddit revenge version of that. Cuckolding? Maybe if you squint. I dunno. It got away from me and my original intention for this. Also, if you're a Jake fan, this won't be for you. Read at your own peril.

The sentence makes Bob Floyd short-circuit.  A question, in English, uttered by Jake with his smarmy grin, but it’s so incongruous, Bob’s mind cannot grasp it.

“You wanna fuck my girl, Baby on Board?”

Bob sputters at the question.  He feels his cheeks heat up as blood floods his face in a furious blush.  He wonders if it’s a joke, a put-on by the other pilots.  He glances around—to the piano where Rooster is perched, to the bar where Nat and Javi wait patiently for a fresh pitcher—and finds himself without backup.  It’s just him and Bagman by the pool tables. 

Bob can’t help but glance out the windows of the Hard Deck to see where you’re sitting.

Where you’re waiting patiently for Jake to rejoin you.  Where you often sit alone while Jake flirts with the local girls.  Where the other members of the Dagger Squad often sit with you, an apology of sorts, a paltry way of making up for your boyfriend’s inattention.  Where Bob, more than any other Dagger, often sits with you, distracts you from your wayward boyfriend, makes you laugh with his corny jokes. 

You explain to him one night how you and Jake are trying an open thing, an open relationship, a way of spicing up your long-term thing—but Bob hears the misery in your voice, and he sees the hurt look in your eyes when you see your boyfriend openly flirting with his next conquest—

Jake snapping his fingers brings Bob back to focus.  He opens his mouth, manages to answer Jake (“of course not, she’s your girl, Bagman”), but it’s the flimsiest of lies.  Bob knows it.  Jake knows it. 

Bob has wanted you from the moment he clapped his eyes on you.

-----

Another night, another moment where Bob finds himself alone with Jake.

The same question posed to him.  “You wanna fuck my girl, Bob?”

This time, Jake doesn’t let Bob sputter out a lie.  The man shakes his head, offers a rueful grin, then claps Bob on the back hard enough to nearly jolt him off his stool. 

“It isn’t an accusation,” Jake clarifies.  “It’s a question.  An offer.  You interested?”

Another lie when he stammers out, “no, I wouldn’t…I mean, I don’t think—”

Jake cuts him off with another hard clap on the back.  “Let’s take a walk, huh?  Me and you.  We’ll talk.”

-----

That’s the night Bob learns that his understanding of kinks is incomplete.  He always thought of kinks as things like role-playing or handcuffs or outrageous lingerie.  He never knew of cuckolding beyond, perhaps, a vague memory of reading the word in high school when they read Shakespeare in English class.

That’s the night Bob learns that beyond opening up your relationship, Jake has a thing for cuckolding.  It’s only theoretical; you haven’t slept with anyone but Jake, but Jake has taken full advantage of the open relationship and has had many lovers beyond you. 

And Jake finds the idea of you with another man intoxicating.  However, when he’s broached the subject with you, urged you to go out and find yourself a one-night stand, you’ve balked.

Hence, the need for Bob.

“She is comfortable with you,” Jake explains, and it sounds so commonplace, so everyday that he’s offering his girlfriend up as a potential one-night stand for his fellow Dagger.  “And I know you like her.”

Bob ends up declining.  Of course he likes you.  He’s wanted you for as long as he’s known you.  He lies awake at night, plagued by insomnia that has its origin in you. Evenings cheering you up at the Hard Deck haunt him—your sad eyes that always track Jake around the bar, but the way you laugh at Bob’s jokes, the way you chat with him earnestly about books and movies, about hiking trails you want to conquer, places you want to travel to.  You’re Bob’s dream girl but you’re taken, whether your relationship is open or not. 

Bob declines Jake’s offer.  Besides, it feels too close to a business deal, edging too close to something akin to sex work, albeit without money changing hands.  Jake and his smarmy grin feels too close to being a pimp.  Just two men making a deal about a woman without her input.

So Bob declines, but when you make a similar offer weeks later, that’s something else entirely.

-----

It happens at the Hard Deck.  You’re outside nursing a drink, separating yourself from where Jake chats up a local woman.  Bob sits beside you, and he tells you a story from when he was stationed in Pensacola, but you’re not really listening.

You cut him off halfway through his story, turn to face him.  Your eyes, usually so sad, have a fire in them he’s never seen before, and it pulls his up short, strikes him mute.

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” you ask, and if Bob stammered his way through Jake’s offer, he doesn’t hesitate a single second when you ask.

“Yes,” he replies.  “Absolutely.”

-----

Bob has no idea what the rules are.  Jake made it sound like a tawdry hook-up, a late-night meeting with sex and nothing else.

You?  You ask him if he wants to go out with you, and Bob interprets that as a date night.  He gets your number, texts you throughout the week, and makes plans.

A proper date night.  Bob can’t tell if Jake knows or not.  He’s unclear if there’s a don’t-ask, don’t-tell policy in place, despite how open Jake seems to be with his own dalliances.  Bob keeps it hush-hush, and late Saturday afternoon, Bob finds himself at your apartment.

-----

Years later, Bob will be able to admit to himself:  this isn’t just a date for him. 

It’s an audition.  It’s a job interview.  It’s Lieutenant Robert Floyd doing his damnedest to show you that he’s a better bet than Jake. 

Bob sees how unhappy you are with Jake, how miserable you are to be in an open relationship you didn’t want.  It’s Bob trying to show you that Jake isn’t the only man in the world; that there are other proverbial fish in the proverbial sea, and that maybe another man (Bob, specifically) would cherish you, would love you, would never offer you up to other men.  Cuckolding isn’t Bob’s kink at all, so he misinterprets Jake’s insistence as guilt.  Jake must feel guilty, Bob reasons, and offering you up feels like a twisted version of atonement—a chance for you to explore other men.

It occurs to Bob that Jake chose him because he doesn’t feel threatened.  Bob Floyd—quiet Bob with his terrible, Navy-issued glasses, with his quiet voice and lack of braggadocio—is no threat to the handsome, cocky pilot.

Years later, it will only demonstrate:  Jake Seresin doesn’t know Bob Floyd at all, but more to the point—Jake Seresin doesn’t really know you.

*****

As far as first dates go, Bob knocks it out of the park.

Not that you have a lot of experience.  You’ve only ever had one first date—all the way back in sophomore year of high school—when Jake took you out to Sonic and then felt you up in the cab of his truck.

You try not to compare Adult Bob against Adolescent Jake.  It wouldn’t be fair.

It doesn’t stop you from comparing Adult Bob to Adult Jake, and the differences are stunning.

Bob greets you at your door with a bouquet of flowers, cheerful daises that nod their fat little heads as you invite him in to put them in water.  Bob does his usual Bob-stammer, a faint pink tinge to his cheeks as he tells you how beautiful you look.

When was the last time Jake got you flowers?  When was the last time Jake complimented your looks?

You often feel invisible with your boyfriend, and it’s always been that way.  Star running back Jake, hometown hero, dating the perfectly average, perfectly middle-of-the-road girl.  Jake with his good looks, his perfect smile, his perfect tan, his perfect muscles…and you. 

Jake’s idea of a date night is typically the Hard Deck, and since the two of you have opened up your relationship, date night has ceded to hunting for new prospects.  You dread it every time; you sit outside and listen to the ceaseless roll of the waves, and you wait with a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach to see if you’ll go home alone or if your boyfriend will turn up at last call, disappointed to have struck out, disappointed to go home to boring old you.

You are desperately unhappy.  Your emotions veer wildly.  You swing between extremes:  manic periods where you work out, get your hair styled, where you scrub and polish and pluck yourself as near to perfect as you can get.  Depressive periods where you can barely summon the strength to shower, ground down by the thought of your boyfriend fucking other women.

You know you should end it.  When Jake sat you down all those months ago, your stomach had fluttered with butterflies.  This is it, you thought.  He’s going to ask me to marry him.  You’d waited so long, patient and unswerving in your devotion.  Through college and flight school, bouncing around in his wake as his assignments and deployments dictated.

Instead, Jake told you he was bored.  That he read up on it, and he thought opening the relationship would be good for him.  For you, too.

“As long as we always come home to each other, I don’t see it as a bad thing,” he had told you, and you—always invisible, always trailing behind him like a lost puppy—had hated yourself when you nodded in agreement.

-----

Bob takes you first to an independent bookstore, a tucked-away little gem, and you realize immediately that he isn’t playing fair.  When you tell him so, shaking your forefinger with a mock-frown, he only gives you his soft Bob Floyd smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he claims, and he holds his palms up in surrender.  “We just have a little time to kill before our reservations.”

Bad enough he’s brought you here.  The two of you talk books all the time, and it’s a thoughtful date idea.  But what makes it worse is when he sidles up to you as you read the book jacket of a new release and says, low near your ear, “get whatever you want.  My treat.”

It’s the moment the bottom falls out for you.  It’s like you’ve been wading around in the shallow end of the pool, and Bob’s sweet date paired with Bob’s surprisingly low, grumbling voice near your ear is your foot slipping into the deep end.  You find yourself treading water.  You find yourself fighting off the panicky urge to flail.

-----

Dinner is at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, and you wonder if Bob timed it so that you’d be there during sunset.

You suspect he did.  You’re starting to suspect that this isn’t just some prelude to fucking, the crude reality of this open relationship you and Jake are doing, the cuckolding fetish that Jake seems to have.  Bob could have just invited you over to his place, but he’s planned such a lovely first date.

You are out of your depth, but when the panic starts to grip you, you only look across the table to see Bob:  his bright blue eyes, his gentle smile, the tips of his ears pink underneath the soft wave of his hair.  You look at him and it feels natural, and the panic ebbs away but it’s replaced by something else.

Doubt.  This date with Bob is a crack in the foundation of your relationship with Jake.  A tiny little trickle of doubt slips through.

Why does this feel so easy, you think as you pick at your meal.  Why does this feel so easy but everything with Jake feels so fraught?

It feels easy because Bob talks to you, not at you.  He’s endlessly curious about you:  your history, your likes, your dislikes.  What your job is like, what your childhood was like.  Where you see yourself in five years, in ten, in twenty?  Do you like the country or the city?  The ocean or the mountains?  Do you like dogs or cats or both?  What’s your favorite book, what’s the last movie you saw? 

Jakes doesn’t ask you those questions, and you half-convince yourself that it’s because you’ve been together for so long.  Jake knows everything there is to know about you.

But you know that’s not true.  Bob pays for dinner, then takes your hand in his.  He walks you to a nearby gelato place for dessert, and it’s nearly perfect.  This second first date with Bob Floyd while your boyfriend is out doing god know what (or who). 

It’s nearly perfect but not entirely because you admit to yourself that Jake doesn’t know everything about you at all.  He’s never asked what you’re reading, who your favorite author is, and it hits you suddenly that Bob—who you’ve known for a handful of months, if that—might know parts of you better than your boyfriend.

At Bob’s truck, he puts the key in the ignition but doesn’t turn it yet.  He turns to face you, and his face is a furious red.  He’s blushing, you realize.  Something is making him blush.

“Take you home?” he asks, and his voice has a strange tension in it that you’ve never heard before.  You think of this date, all the effort he put into it to make it perfect.  You think of all the times he’s kept you company at the Hard Deck, how sometimes he sits in front of you, makes his body block your line of sight so you can’t see Jake leaning in on some girl who is prettier than you, more adventuresome than you—

“No.”  You shake your head, then smile at Bob.  You don’t care about Jake and his stupid cuckolding kink; you’ve been on a low-simmer of growing desire ever since the bookshop when Bob leaned in and growled in your ear.  You want Bob for Bob’s own sake.

 “Take me to your place,” you say.

*****

It’s a dangerous thing, how Jake never once crosses Bob’s mind once he gets you to his apartment.  Bob forgets the reality of this situation:  that you’re taken, that this is a one-time thing, that it’s actually feeding into Jake’s kink, not yours or Bob’s.

Bob forgets all of that.  He’s only focused on you:  lovely, perfect you.  The best date he’s ever been on, and Bob feels like a million bucks at how surprised you’d been with each part of it.  The way your face lit up at the flowers, at his compliments.  The squeal of surprise at the book store, the shy way you only chose one book for him to buy you—he would have bought you the whole store if you’d asked.  The content sigh each time you looked at the sun setting over the ocean, and how natural it felt to hold your hand as he walked you back to his truck.

Bob doesn’t think of Jake until afterwards, and it’s dangerous because Bob instead thinks about second dates, third dates.  He forgets that you’re spoken for, and instead he spins out an entire future where he meets your family and you meet his, where he cleans off a shelf in his bathroom for you, where the two of you move in together…

Who could blame him, though?  Once he gets you inside his apartment, he turns to ask if you want a drink, but you’re right there, standing so close to him that he can see the little amber flecks in your eyes and the question is only halfway out of his mouth when you kiss him.

Of course Bob doesn’t think of Jake.  He’s wanted you since he first saw you, and here you finally are:  your hands on him, holding him steady as you press your lips to his, as you bump against his glasses and knock them askew, then break the kiss to gently reach up and set them right again.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and Bob doesn’t link your sudden reticence—you avoid his eyeline—to Jake.  He doesn’t make the connection between your bashful expression and how you’ve only ever kissed Jake, slept with Jake, and how monumental this all must feel.

“Don’t apologize.”  Bob cups his hands on your bare shoulders, pulls you in for a hug.  “Nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I’m not very good at this.”  It comes out muffled, your face pressed against his shoulder.

Bob has always guessed that your rocky relationship with Jake has shaken your confidence, but he doesn’t think of that now.  He only feels you sigh against him, embarrassed, so he pushes you away gently, touches his forehead to yours.

“You’re fine,” he assures you.  “You’re perfect.”  Then he leans in, kisses you this time, and when his glasses get knocked off-kilter again, he just takes them off, folds them into his pocket, then leads you into his bedroom.

*****

You’ve spent a lot of time on the internet researching cuckolding as a kink, and you had settled on the belief that Jake was into it because he was turned on by the idea of another man using you.

Or maybe he just feels guilty that he’s the only one taking advantage of the open relationship.

Who can say?  When you try to talk about it, Jake brushes you off, tells you not to worry about it too much, so you never are quite clear on what motivates the man you thought you’d marry one day.

But as far as being used goes, nothing about your dalliance with Bob says used:  the man worships you.  He kneels in front of your body like a penitent, and his hands are so gentle, his voice so soft as he asks permission every step of the way.

“Can I kiss you here?”

“Can I touch you here?”

Is this okay?  Does this feel good?  Tell me what you like.  Tell me what you need.  I’ll do anything.  Let me make you feel good.

Is this what Jake wanted—a change from the usual?  Because being with Bob feels like a revelation:  you’ve never been loved like this.  He kisses his way down your naked body, then reverses course until he’s between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs open.  His mouth on you, the shy little swipes of his tongue until he gets a taste of you—then he devours you like a starved man, completely unabashed at the groans leaving him, at the way he grinds into the bedding at how turned on he is to feast on you.

You open your mouth to tell him not to bother, that you’ve never come from oral alone, but then you feel how your body is responding, the answering arousal to Bob’s skilled tongue, and when he slides a finger inside you, you’re reminded of that too-deep feeling from earlier.

But instead of feeling panicky, you feel a sharp throb of arousal.  You aren’t afraid of being in too deep now.  You aren’t straining to return to shore. 

You want to be swept out to sea, and you want Bob to be the one to do it.  When your orgasm approaches, you reach down and tangle your fingers in Bob’s hair—it’s as soft as it looks, just as silky—and Bob looses a groan that vibrates up from your pussy to the very top of your head.  He reaches up and holds your hand against his head, mumbles against you to use him, to grind against him, so you do.  You lift your hips and press against his mouth, feel the bump of his nose against your clit, and you realize that you’re about to come from oral for the first time in your life and that it’s not your boyfriend who’s done it.

When you come against Bob’s mouth, every single thought of Jake is erased from your head, and you won’t think of him again afterwards.

*****

Bob takes a long beat to get control of himself.  He was dangerously close to coming as he ate you out, and he waits for his own orgasm to fade into the background before he continues.

Instead, he props himself on one elbow and just watches you.  If you looked beautiful before, you look even more so now:  all of the tension is gone from your face, and blink up at him sleepily, dreamily.  Your smile is lazy, and when you sigh, it’s nothing but content.

“Good?” he asks, grinning down at you.

You nod, just as lazy as your smile.  “The best.”  You purse your lips, pout up at him.  “Kiss me?”

How can he resist?  He leans down to kiss you, and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, pull him closer to you.  Eating you out has relaxed you, banished whatever doubts you had from earlier, and you kiss him now with a passion he’s never experienced before:  you part your lips, you slide your tongue into his mouth, you lick against him.  You must taste yourself on him because you make the cutest damned whimper, and it goes straight to his dick, hearing how undone you are.

Then you do this cute little wriggling move underneath him, and Bob’s body moves independently of his brain:  he slots himself between your thighs, slick from his earlier attention, and his erection bumps against your hip, your belly before you reach down and guide him to where you want him most.

Bob breaks the kiss long enough to mumble his question about protection, and it won’t occur to him until much later—what it means when you say you’re on birth control but also that you’re clean, that there’s no risk.

It won’t occur to Bob until later, what it means for you to say you’re clean.  It won’t occur to him that you’re in a committed relationship, that your boyfriend has regular hookups but you remain STD-free since your last checkup.

It’ll hit Bob in the middle of his workday at Miramar, what you are telling him now:  that your bedroom with Jake is dead and has been for a while, and that this moment with Bob is the first time you’ve had sex in months.

He’ll realize that later.  Now, there’s only the feeling of your pussy—warm, wet, perfect—as he pushes into you.  There’s only the sound of your sharp inhale, your whine as you tell him to go slow, to be gentle, but you don’t need to tell him that.  He’d never hurt you, and he can feel how tight you are, so he goes slow.  He works himself into you carefully, watches your face for any sign of pain. 

He sees none.  He goes so slowly that he only sees your expression go from worried to stunned:  the lines in your brow smooth out and your lips part as you gaze up at him, a perfect oh of surprise. 

When he’s fully seated in you, buried in the silky depths of your pussy, Bob stills—and he realizes that you are trembling underneath him.

“Honey,” he breathes out, the sweet nickname falling from his mouth without thought.  “You okay?  You want me to—”

“No.”  You cut him off, gift him with a shaky smile.  “Stay with me, okay?  Just stay with me a minute.”

“’Course.”  He leans down, bumps his nose against yours until your smile firms up, seems steadier.  “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Bob only moves enough to settle more of his weight on you, and then he takes the time to kiss you:  he trails featherlight kisses across your face, your forehead, your flushed cheeks.  He kisses the tip of your nose—it pulls a giggle from you, and the sound makes him smile.  He kisses along your jaw.  He dips his head near your ear, whispers how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, how he’d happily stay like this forever.  He doesn’t miss the little shudder you give at his praise.

Bob doesn’t realize that he’s shifted your worldview entirely.  Just this simple liaison—not even complete, and nothing extreme—has rearranged everything you thought you knew.  You aren’t actively thinking of Jake at all—he’s been banished until afterwards—but you’re considering the balance of your entire erotic history against this single moment with Bob.

You’re realizing that sex can be so much more than just an act…and with Bob, a man you haven’t known that long.

You eventually stop trembling.  Bob feels it when you relax; the tight clench of your cunt slackens a bit.  He feels your hands on him, shy at first and then bolder as you run your warm palms over the planes of his back, along his shoulders and arms.  As you thread your fingers through his hair, comb out the tangles there.  As you rest your palm along the back of his head and lead his face back to yours.

“Thank you.”  You whisper it, and your eyes are wide.  Earnest.  Bob isn’t sure what you’re thanking him for, so he just kisses you again.

“I’m ready,” you mumble against his searching lips.

“You sure?”

A nod, a purposeful roll of your hips that makes Bob see stars, makes the edges of his vision turn hazy with desire. 

“Take me, Bob,” you tell him, and he’s never heard you so assured.  “I’m yours.”

So he does.  He takes you in small movements, focused on your pleasure.  He is used to sitting in the backseat of a billion dollar plane, all those systems to keep track of, so focusing on you is an easy, wondrous thing:  the expression on your face, the moans he manages to pull from you.  The way your eyes flutter shut or roll back or fix on him like he’s responsible for setting the sun in the sky.  The way your hands touch him or hold him, sometimes soft and stroking, sometimes clinging to him like he’s your life preserver.  The way your cunt feels, slick and warm and gripping him, obscenely wet as he fucks into you harder, the sound of skin on skin, the heady scent of sex filling his room, and he hopes it lingers for days afterwards, he wants the moment to never end.

He focuses on your pleasure as it rises, crests around you:  the way you tighten up, bear down harder on him until he loses some of his rhythm.  He reaches a shaky hand down to touch you there, the slick, swollen place where he disappears into the confines of your body, and he rubs a tight circle against you.  He begs you to come for him; he’s so close, he feels his balls tightening against his body, and he needs you to come for him first, needs to feel you before—

When you come, you say his name.  You breathe it out, a hot pant against his ear, and Bob is grateful for it because it pushes him over the edge.  He groans out your name too, chokes out a curse, and you come together—your pussy pulsing around him as he buries himself in you, comes inside you.

Marks you as his.

-----

Afterwards, Bob remembers Jake and feels a sting of conscience—but not enough to send you home.  That had been integral to the cuckolding thing, Bob sending you home thoroughly fucked, to sleep beside Jake, for Jake to know you’d been with another man and to be turned on by it.

A mean little part of Bob wants to.  He wants to send you home satisfied, his cum dripping out of you.  Part of him sees the allure of it from his side; Jake doesn’t consider Bob a threat, so it’d hit the smug bastard hard to see you satisfied, happy from your dalliance with the back-seater.

But Bob doesn’t give a shit about Jake.  Not when you’re sitting in his bed with the sheets wrapped around you, uncertain all of a sudden, and Bob kisses you on the forehead and tells you to stay.

“Just stay the night,” he says.  “Please.  I’d love for you to stay.”

He sees the doubt on your face.  He knows you’re thinking of Jake, and Bob feels a flare of something—anger, protectiveness, whatever.  It gives him the courage to speak up.  He takes your hand in his, settles on the bed beside you.

“Honey, is this even what you wanted?  I had a fun time with you, but would you have asked me out if Jake hadn’t wanted it?”

Your expression turns from uncertain to surprise in an instant.  “No!  I mean, I asked you out because I like you.  And because I’m in an open thing.  I thought…”  You trail off, stare at him as you try to assemble your words.  “Did you only agree to take me about because of Jake?”

Bob shakes his head.  “No.  I took you out because I wanted to.  I brought you here because I want you.”

Your surprise turns to a shy smile.  “Really?”

He squeezes your hand.  “Really.”

Your smile fades away by degrees, and your eyes shine with unshed tears.  “I never wanted any of this, you know.  I…I wanted to get married, have kids, all that, but he…”  You sigh, drop your head.  “I don’t like the open relationship.  It makes me feel like I’m not enough, you know?”

“Honey—”

“Like if I were better somehow, he wouldn’t have to go out and find other women—”

“Hey, no, don’t—”

“Like, what is wrong with me?  Why aren’t I enough? Why—”

“Stop.”  Bob places a finger over your mouth to silence you.  He hates all this doubt, hates how little you think of yourself, so he stills your words.  “You’re enough,” he tells you.  “Hell, honey, you’re everything.”

You blink at him, surprised.  The shimmering tears shake loose, start to course down your cheeks, and Bob pulls you to him, holds you as you cry.  He wraps you in his arms as you sob against him, gasp out that you don’t know what to do, that you’ve felt lost for months now—

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” he murmurs against your head.  “You just need a good night’s rest.  That’s all you need to do tonight.”

Your tears taper off.  You push away from him gently and swipe at where your tears have made his bare chest wet.

“Stop being so wise, Lieutenant,” you grumble, but there’s a teasing quality there that makes Bob smile.  You sniffle and glance up at him, and he’s struck how beautiful you are even with swollen, teary eyes.

Maybe you’ve rearranged his world too.

No, there’s no maybe to it.  You’ve definitely rearranged his world.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says, and he keeps his voice low and even, tries to keep the excitement out of it.  He can sense that a sea-change is coming, and he doesn’t want to jinx it.

“Stay tonight,” he repeats.  “Things are always clearer in the morning, I find.”

So you do.  You nod at him, and you wave off his offers to get you clothes to sleep in.  The two of you fall asleep in record time—the cure for Bob’s you-induced insomnia is you, both the cause and the cure, your warm, naked body curled up alongside him as he fades into sleep. 

And you were right:  Bob is wise.  You’ll wake in the morning to an empty bed, a room full of sunlight, the lingering scent of sex.  You’ll pad out into Bob’s kitchen and find the man putting the finishing touches on breakfast, and you’ll let him feed you before you let him fuck you again—this time on his kitchen counter, the room full of light so you can see the blatant love in his expression as he claims you again.  And then a third time, together in the shower, a slow moment so full of feeling that you’ll cry when you come, and Bob will hold you, will choke back words as he comes too, and you’ll wonder later why those bitten-back words sound so much like I love you.

And then you’ll let Bob drive you home where Jake will be waiting for you.  His smug smile will fall as you breeze past him, his cuckolding fantasy falling apart in front of him because he was the only one turned on by it, the only one turned on by opening your relationship.  Jake will realize too late that he only opened the door for someone else to come and steal you away, and that the thief will be Robert Floyd, who taught you that love should never be such a fraught, painful thing, and that you may not be enough for Jake, but for the right man, you are everything.

[amandav09]

You say you’re pregnant at 141 (GhostxReader)

Do not worry, I continue my Oneshot on xPrincesse reader, but for now I make other stories at the same time

Warming : None

Word count : 3,5k

Gif not mine - I speak bad English and I am dislexyque, so sorry for the inconvenience

The Task Force has always been a family. Ghost found his place in the field of brothers-in-arms and a father figure.

You arrived after the team was formed. But it did not take long to integrate, especially with Simon with whom you had ended up as a couple for 5 years.

You were the sunshine of the band, but yet it was Ghost who had the biggest smile when he learned that you were carrying his child.

Now we had to tell the others.

You had the idea to make a game to tell them, Simon was not motivated and would simply send them a message, but fortunately, you intervened before.

So here you are, at a little party for the success of a complicated mission, just between members of the 141

You’re in line with the other three men

Price was at the end, a sheet pressing on the wall in front of him.

Gaz held a leaf in his back, and Soap did the same.

The goal was simple, you had to write a sentence on the sheet on the back of Soap, the boy had to write what he understood on the sheet in front of him, and so on until Price wrote the beginning sentence.

The first word was not complicated, everyone found the "I’m" not without difficulty.

The first letter of the word "Pregnant" was well written.

Soap managed to write "Pregn" before frowning. The others were only at the "e" that Johnny turned like a rocket

Price and Gaz heard only a sob before hearing the sound of the impact of one skin against another.

Simon had caught his friend before he could say too much. The Scotsman had tears in his eyes while Simon had one hand on his mouth and the other around his waist to prevent him from jumping on you with joy.

Gaz didn’t have time to turn around as he heard you right behind him.

"It’s not over, Soap has already found the phrase."

He sighed and refocused on his sheet.

"How did this jerk find out before me?" He moans, making you laugh

You said that again.

Gaz continued to write, struggle to write «Pregnant»

"Oh fuck!" He had the same reaction as Soap, turning around "Really?" He had stars in his eyes.

«Yes» You answer with a smile

Simon cleared his throat, Johnny still in a submission grip. And Gaz understood the message, the game was not over, so he had to remain silent

He stood beside the two men, a silly smile on his face.

It was the captain’s turn.

"Come on, grandpa, it’s easy" you teased him, leaving a clue

As an answer, just growl.

"My back is crumbling, I can’t feel what you’re writing me."

You press a little harder behind his back to make him feel better what you were writing.

He remained closed his eyes and rewritten what he felt, following the movements of your pen with his hand.

"You have the phrase captain," said Simon softly, letting go of his colleague.

Price opened his eyes and read what he had written, despite the sloppy writing, he wasted no time in understanding the meaning.

His breathing gets blocked and he turns to you "You’re pregnant."

You nods, smile on your face

"Oh, my God, "he prays to you quickly in his arms, without worrying about Soap’s disappointed moan that was waiting to take you in his arms for a while.

When Price let you go, he quickly shot Simon in a dead woman, without worrying about the boy’s protests.

As you watched Simon respond to the hug little by little, you did not notice the two individuals quickly approaching you to take you in their arms.

"We’ll be tontons" chantetonna Gaz

"Unfortunately for our child," mumbles Ghost back from taking Price

John turned his head towards you.

"Did you say grandpa for my age or to give me a clue?"

A teasing smile appears on your lips.

"Both"

[masivechaos]

as long as you're happy!

── ☆ stephen meeks x gn! reader

── ☆ Request: yes / no

── ☆ Synopsis: Stephen hid his feelings for you but it's hard to keep the act up when you're hurting

── ☆ Warning/content: reader is in a toxic relationship, my English

── ☆ a.n.: 1.3k words- first fic i wrote in months so it may not be good 😭

masterlist/ dps masterlist / navigation / taglist 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

Rejection is hard to handle. Especially when it’s not explicitly said, and Meeks had understood it really well. There was this constant lingering bittersweet feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he was good at pretending he was fine. When he learned you were dating someone, he didn’t show any sign of hurt, he even managed a smile, because pretending for you was worth it. As long as you were happy, it was worth it.

So he kept pretending. He managed to act interested when you told him about your first kiss, he hid his frustration, his clenched fist under the desk. He managed to give you a real suggestion when you asked what gift you should get your partner for your four-month anniversary. But he couldn’t pretend he was fine when you were crying curled up against his chest.

“It’s alright…” he kept whispering in your ear. He was clueless about what was going on. All you did was knock at his door with a face full of tears and falling into arms as the name of your partner escaped your lips in a sob. Has he ever seen you like this? Maybe once before a chemistry exam but he could not think of another single time you cried. You were always so positive about everything, a little ray of sunshine, the kind of person who enters a room and makes everyone smile.

His curiosity was piqued. What did your partner do to have you in such a state? God, how much he wanted to know. But he was resting the questions urging to slip past the tip of his tongue, for you. He let his own mind ruminate with the most absurd ideas until you were finally calm.

And as he kept trying to figure it out, he remembered. He remembered when he walked into your dorm without knocking and saw your red and puffy eyes. But he also remembered how you shrugged it off and said you had a bad grade in maths. He tried to think of it but you had A and A+ all year long. You lied. And he frowned. You never lied.

What happened?

When you were finally able to breathe without bursting into tears, he asked the question “What’s going on?” he asked softly, he tried to hide his curiosity that could come off as displaced in this situation. With the sleeve of his jumper he dried the tear remaining in the corner of your left eye.

You let out a hitched breath and snuggled closer to him, seeking solace and warmth “Drew… they… I fucked up,” you said, trying not to let out another sob.

Meeks’ eyebrows knitted together. You never fucked up. You were you. Everything he could dream of and everything he wanted. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

“I did!” You said as another tear fell down your face, forming a wet patch on my uniform’s trousers. “They dumped me and it’s all my fault.” You were back to crying in Stephen’s neck again.

His arms tightened around your waist. He tried to ignore the part of his heart that was relieved and happy you were back to being single. He felt horrible for thinking such a thing. Meeks focused back on you and tried to make you feel better “Tell me what happened…”

You stayed silent for a minute. “I gave them the gifts for our four-month anniversary, the vinyl record and the love letter as you told me. And Drew said- they said-” As you started to sob again, Stephen rubbed your back with a circular motion “They said it was too much and that I loved them too much and it was wrong of me.”

Meeks frowned again “It wasn’t wrong of you.”

“It was,” you immediately answered “They’re right I’m just all too much and I shouldn’t have given them so many things during our relationship. It’s all my fault.”

He couldn’t grasp why you were blaming yourself for this. “But… they kept everything… right?”

You nodded “Yes, and asked for other gifts too…” 

Meeks was now confused. Drew was asking you for gifts but blaming you for giving them? It didn’t make any sense “Wait, wait- what do you mean?” he asked as he tilted his head and pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“Drew said it was a test and I failed it and I was too stupid to believe they were being honest,” you said quietly, Meeks’ touch smoothing you “They said this once or twice already and I managed to get them back but now I think it’s done.”

Stephen froze. That didn’t sound good at all. “You.. got them back…?”

You nodded as you sniffled “Yes… I begged and they stayed if I did what they wanted but now it’s over” He stayed silent. He couldn’t believe it. It didn’t seem healthy at all and he started to worry for you. He didn’t manage to hide his surprise, begging for someone? It didn’t look like you. His worry grew as you kept opening up “But Drew’s right I’m just all too dumb and shouldn’t believe them.”

“Hey-” he immediately said, tilting your head by grabbing your chin between his fingers “don’t say that. You’re far from dumb and if you ask me it sounds like they took advantage of you.” 

You shook your head, tears spilling out of your eyes “No- no- they loved me and taught me a lesson. I just loved them too much.”

He made sure you looked him in the eyes. He was good at school, considered a genius, but he was awkward when it came to feelings. He didn’t even know how you managed not to see he was head over heels for you, his stuttering and blushing gave it away to everyone– but you, apparently. But for you he tried to put every single feeling into an understandable thought, he wanted you to know how incredible you were. How dared anyone make you feel this way?

“That’s not true,” he said, a bit more harshly than intended, “if they loved you they wouldn’t have you beg for them to stay. And you’re not dumb for loving them and showing it. They just aren’t made for you. They broke you to make you dependent on them to get what they wanted.” 

You pressed the palms of your hands to your eyes, a headache starting to cloud your mind. It was hard to think when you were this upset but you started to realise he was right “But they’re right… I’m way too much-”

Stephen cut you “No- no- you’re not too much. They manipulated you to break your self confidence and make sure you stuck to them. You’re not too much, at all.”

“But I understand why they wouldn’t love me-”

He stopped you once again “They have no reason not to love you. Everyone loves you just the way you are. Don’t think so lowly of yourself. You’re everything I can ever dream of. And if Drew doesn’t love you, then screw them. I love you. Even when you’re ‘too much’, because it shows you care.”

You stared at him, mouth ajar. Your eyes, wet from your previous tears, were glistening from emotions “Really?” you asked in a broken voice.

“Really,” he said with a reassuring smile. He hugged you closer to him, he wanted to make you feel better “I really love you and I wasn’t great at hiding and I kept silent because you were happy but… I want you to know now. Because you deserve to know how incredible and easy to love you are.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You leaned into his touch “I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered.

He offered you a small smile, his usually pale cheeks slightly pink. “I just want you to be happy. Don’t let Drew get through your mind.”

You let out a small sigh, resting your head against Stephen’s chest “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, “I’m happy as long as you are.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ steven meeks taglist: @moonlitmeeks @toindeedbeag0d @juneberrie @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @innerloverpainter @kieracassette @vancitycharlie @oncasette @dori-and-gray @maddipoof @starlit-epiphany @willowseason @mellozhi @lovings4turn @ivyppoison @satelitis

[itsmattchou]

even if it's a dream, i like it !

pairing: zb1 maknae line x fem!reader warnings: swearing, broke reader, mentions of food, reader being drunk in gyuvins, english isn't my first language!!! genre: fluff, kind of crack if you squint synopsis: zb1 + kdrama cliches notes: had that idea so long ago and finally i have done it!! yay yippee. school has started again n i am not haply about it

SHEN QUANRUI :: rich boy x poor girl

who's seen this coming? everyone. everyone did.

ADDITIONALLY he fits the secret millionaire trope (my dream fr) but that's for another post

you grew up in a poor household, sometimes struggling to afford basic things

so you had a job after school to help your parents with money

your grades weren't all that good either as you barely had time to study

so now, after graduation, your job kind of ✨sucked✨

you work in some korean bbq shop and the salary is pretty much mid🥰

there was a group of people that were regulars at your store; they were most likely working at that firm nearby and went out to eat here because it was most convenient

but there was also a really handsome man among these people, and he seemed kind of interested in you???

but he always wore luxury items and shii n that stuff is intimidating, especially to a broke loser like u r

until he suddenly entered the shop without his colleagues and ordered what he usually ordered

but BAM when he paid he also asked your for your number and also asked you out on a date

BAM you said yes

bro took you out on multiple dates, always trying to woo you with his wealth but you weren't really affected by it (you know that scene in business proposal? "you know what my love and this card have in common?"? yes he pulled that stunt too. INSPIRED by the kdrama of course!)

IT HONESTLY THREW HIM OFF. but it also made you even more interesting to him so💕

you finally convinced him to let you plan a date and let you pay for everything (it took a lot of convincing.) and on that date you managed to learn more about his real personality he usually hid behind all his money

lovelicky > rich ricky every day fr

anyway you started being gf bf eventually!! he was out there spoiling you rotten and you were trying your hardest to keep him humble

lovely😍

KIM GYUVIN :: piggyback ride

for the sake of this headcanon. you two are legal adults OKAY?

SO you two were working in the same company!

he was the fun and loud colleague, while you were mostly keeping to yourself and focusing on work

you weren't all that close at all, more like acquaintances

but he was very nice to be around, so you liked working with him🫶

as you've seen it in kdramas, the whole group of colleagues sometimes goes out to eat or drink!

so now you were in some korean bbq restaurant (the stories connect😱) with them yay

gyuvin was busy telling a story about his pet toad gerald he had at age 7, ricky was busy staring at one of them korean bbq workers, and you were silently deciding on drinking tonight or not

but as you've also seen in kdramas, your higher ups ended up making you drink a shit ton with them for NO FUCKING REASONNN👹

it didn't help that your alcohol tolerance was really low too

so by the end of the night you were pretty much wasted. but hey, at least you were conscious!

gyuvin really liked you and your shy persona! so he was like "yo let me take her home" when your colleagues tried to figure out how to get you home

he knew you lived close by so he just decided to give you a lil piggyback ride to your home

you were way more outgoing when drunk, gyuvin figured

you were chewing his ear off about some drunk nonsense he could barely understand because you kept mumbling

when you arrived in front of your apartment, he made you enter the pin code and brought you in, trying to get you ready for bed (more or less)

you kept blabbering and somehow ended up crying your eyes out because you remembered gyuvins pet toad gerald had died

bro was straight up panicking😭😭

he tried to comfort you and (another cliché) you ended up falling asleep on him, leaving him NO CHOICE other than staying the night🫶🫶 because YOU DID NOT LET GO 👹

PARK GUNWOOK :: "yes, very beautiful."

schoolmates/friends to lovers? yes very much🥰🥰

and to spice it up you can imagine it as academic rivals to friends to lovers

ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS IS SUCH A GUNWOOK TROPE UGHHHHH💥

but, this too, is for another post <3

anyway!!

so i'm pretty sure south korea does not have a 4th of july typa thingy

or do they? i have no idea

but let's pretend they do! i mean why shouldn't south korea celebrate america's independence?! 😁

it was the day of that long awaited cool festival yay! and your friendgroup decided to go together

gunwook n you are in said friendgroup ^

so after school all of you met up at the festival ground and started to check out all the tents and what not

the hours went by quickly and the fireworks, the highlight of that festival, were getting closer n closer

but this is a fucking kdrama so naturally your friendgroup got separated because of the big crowd shortly before the fireworks started🥰

leaving you and gunwook alone. obviously

figuring you wouldn't be able to find your friends before it started, you two just searched for a nice spot to watch from

gunwooks mind was just racing because poor boy highkey has a crush on you (and you were oblivious to it👍🏻)

you found a great spot, not all too crowded and the firework show went off

it was really a gorgeous sight. all those different colors in the nightsky and the stars?? pretty

you were watching excitedly, your eyes practically glowing

"wow, look at this gunwook!! isn't it beautiful?", you asked, thinking he was watching the fireworks just like you did

he was watching you instead, a small smile forming on his lips at the endearing sight of you

"yes, very beautiful," he answered, truthfully

HAN YUJIN :: you trip and he catches you

now this one isn't only a kdrama cliché but you get it

off topic but i was reading that book where this happened like 5 times before they officially started dating (in 200 pages) i was screaming because it was so oVERUSED

anyway! now i'm also using this overused thing! yay! 🤩

so idk if you remember but i wrote one reaction that was like "them when you fall asleep on their shoulder". this thing happened prior to that (you n yujin really are a kdrama couple bro)

so your class were on this fun class trip where you were just. walking through a forest.

and the guide was talking about nature and shit, which wasn't very interesting, not gonna lie💀💀

so you were playing around with your friend yujin

who also happened to be your crush WHAAAAAT😱

you two were walking at the very back, not really trying to keep up with the rest of your class

but still making sure not to fall behind too much. losing them would be a big no no🥴

the path, of course, wasn't very even

it's a in a fucking forest after all WHAT DID U EXPECT

so while talking to yujin about something silly that happened to you just a few days ago, you weren't really paying attention to where you were going

and ended up falling over a branch! oh no!

but yujin reacted quickly and caught you before you could hit the ground, one hand grabbing your arm and the other holding your waist

CUE that short n awkward moment of eye contact while you're still in shock

"uhm" "yeah"

he let's you go and you two just continue going your way, pretending that shit never happened for the sake of everything 🥰

[very-straight-blog]

This might sound funny and cringey, but I feel like I lost something I cared about and now it's just sadness and depression. Like it's a TV show, I get it, but we waited 2 years and for what? To get the two worst episodes imaginable. I'm really starting to believe that Sapochnik was responsible for everything good in s1, bcz Condal and Hess ruined this show. S1 wasn't perfect and I didn't like a lot of things in it, but it still managed to keep me invested so I hoped that in s2 everything would be improved. And yet, I'm so terribly disappointed. Alicent's characterization makes no sense anymore, like they want so badly to show her as a bad mother and a hypocrite and really - after ruining bnc with Alicole sex now it had to follow with her not being able to console her son but hoping on Criston is a must do?? What sort of degenerates write this??

Aemond is also ruined for me and I would love to erase that crappy brothel scene from my memory. What was it for? To show his mommy issues, vulnerability... Idc. The dialogue was bad and they did him dirty with the angles and the pose. And now he's apparently going to be there *again* in e3 and we'll get full frontal nudity. Idk why the actor agreed to this since they are obviously making a joke and meme material of his character. Not to mention that he straight up lied in the promos about being loyal (if the RR leaks are true and I'm almost 100% sure they are). I get that they are told what to say, but a more general answer would have been much better than a lie. In brief, one of my favourite s1 characters is also destroyed.

Then Cole. My god, I only waithig for him to look at the camera and say "do you hate me enough already hahah?" He's the writers punching bag atp.

Helaena barely exists.

Otto is Viserys' fanboy and ofc, appalled by his grandson. It's not as he just has lost a son and was forced to take the crown in the first place by him and his mother, no less.

Aegon got more screentime and I love Tom's performance, but I'm not fooled. He is still depicted as weak, politically inept and rash. And he'll still be a bully, apparently. Just to justify his brother's treason. F*ck you Condal, Hess and whoever else is responsible for this mess.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just don't get how anyone can seriously praise this shitshow anymore. It could have been great, but the creators are obviously not up to the task which is now painfully obvious. I wouldn't mind the greens as villains, but don't write them as a walking joke. I'm quitting the show and would like just to forget about it. This adaptation of the Dance was a huge mistake.

I feel you! By the way, I haven't participated in any fandom life, I think, for 10 years or more, but thanks to HOTD, I started this blog, I write some critical (well, kinda) reviews, and English isn't even my native language. I've been waiting for the second season for two years and now I just feel tired and empty. So far, the only thing I've liked about these two episodes is Aegon's storyline, that's all. Everything else is bad, very bad, and judging by the leaks, it'll be even worse.

Firstly, the series has a very strange pace of the narrative. We didn't get a bunch of important plot scenes, and even those that remained were shown in a hurry, but at the same time we have many scenes like "Rhaenyra stares at the dust for three minutes", unnecessary dialogues and PAUSES between lines.

Secondly, again, an insane amount of important plot details are left behind the scenes and this is absolutely wrong. Aemond's return home, the family's reaction to what he did. Aegon's reaction when he learned of his son's death. Aemond's reaction when he finds out what his actions have led to. And so on and so forth. Many of the characters' actions are shown without context. Alicent fucks with Criston - cool, but can I have some additional information? How long has this been going on, what feelings do they have for each other, how have they developed, like, anything? The same can be said about the scene in the brothel - no context.

Thirdly, it's unclear what's going on with the characters, as if the screenwriters decided to make the greens the most unpleasant people in the world. So far, I only like Aegon and Helaena. I can't even say anything about Aemond, because his only dialogue scene is built around Daemon and Luke, damn them. I just can't.

Everything annoys me except Aegon lol. So yes, I understand you.

[imitationgame77]

Twice, Mensah melts Murderbot

Murderbot is a very private person, often struggles to keep its emotions under control. Even though Murderbot is often blunt, sometimes even a bit rude to the humans, it is generally keeping its emotional expressions under control.

It can be openly rude to two - Gurathin and ART.

Gurathin was probably the first (augmented) human to whom Murderbot could openly express strong disapproval since it disabled the governor module (I don't like you; Fuck you)

ART is the receiving end of various expletives in Network Effect. (Because it is Murderbot's friend and not its client)

Mensah, on the other hand, is the only person that seems to be able to melt Murderbot's metaphorical heart, and gives it a sense of vulnerability. Because she understands it as a person - as only friends on the same wavelength can.

------------------------------------------

All Systems Red

I muted my feed and the comm, and she said, “I know you’re more comfortable with keeping your helmet opaque, but the situation has changed. We need to see you.”

I didn’t want to do it. Now more than ever. They knew too much about me. But I needed them to trust me so I could keep them alive and keep doing my job. The good version of my job, not the half-assed version of my job that I’d been doing before things started trying to kill my clients. I still didn’t want to do it. “It’s usually better if humans think of me as a robot,” I said.

“Maybe, under normal circumstances.” She was looking a little off to one side, not trying to make eye contact, which I appreciated. “But this situation is different. It would be better if they could think of you as a person who is trying to help. Because that’s how I think of you.”

My insides melted. That’s the only way I could describe it. After a minute, when I had my expression under control, I cleared the face plate and had it and the helmet fold back into my armor.

Wells, Martha. All Systems Red (Kindle Single): The Murderbot Diaries (English Edition) (pp.103-104).

-----------------------------

Exit Strategy

Huh, why did I like Sanctuary Moon so much? I had to pull the memory from my archive, and what I saw there startled me. “It’s the first one I saw. When I hacked my governor module and picked up the entertainment feed. It made me feel like a person.” Yeah, that last part shouldn’t have come out, but with all the security-feed monitoring I was doing, I was losing control of my output. I closed my archive. I really needed to get around to setting that one-second delay on my mouth.

[...]

She said instead, “Why did it make you feel that way?”

“I don’t know.” That was true. But pulling the archived memory had brought it back, vividly, as if it had all just happened. (Stupid human neural tissue does that.) The words kept wanting to come out. It gave me context for the emotions I was feeling, I managed not to say. “It kept me company without…”

“Without making you interact?” she suggested.

That she understood even that much made me melt. I hate that this happens, it makes me feel vulnerable. Maybe that was why I had been nervous about meeting Mensah again, and not all the other dumb reasons I had come up with. I hadn’t been afraid that she wasn’t my friend, I had been afraid that she was, and what it did to me.

Wells, Martha. Exit Strategy: The Murderbot Diaries (pp.115-116)

--------------------------------------------

I don't wish to sound like Anne Shirley, but both Dr. Mensah and ART are kindred spirits (or something like soulmates) to Murderbot, but in different ways.

ART 'gets' Murderbot's thought/action processes and tendencies perfectly, and also comes to understand its emotion reactions since they shared long hours of media viewing where ART learned to process subjective emotions through Murderbot's reactions. ART is more likely to challenge Murderbot when it notes unproductive thought processes, or gets Murderbot to express it to make it understand its own thoughts.

Dr. Mensah, in contrast, is a highly empathetic and intelligent person, and she instintively understands Murderbot. Her high intellectual and emotional intelligence made her the planetary leader, loved and admired by many. She expresses her understanding of Murderbot, which is often accurate and makes it feel vulnerable, but not in a bad way. It feels being understood.

It is very touching the way Murderbot can be vulnerable in her presence and trusts her completely. HelpMe.file reveals that how it has come to unlearn its instinctive response to use violence in order to eliminate threat by trusting her.

Murderbot likes PresAux people, and calls Ratthi its friend, but it is clear to readers that Dr. Mensah is a very special person to it. And Murderbot is also a special person to Dr. Mensah that she can trust with her life.

It melts ME whenever I read them interact.

Amena seems to have inherited some of her second mother's emotinal intelligence. Hope she appears in the future again. I liked the way the relationship between her and Murderbot developed in Network Effect.

[wizardfrog69]

okay but fyodor and s/o who is also slavic and knows a bunch of languages and sometimes both of them forget a word in the only language they both speak (japanese or english idk) and they try their hardest to describe it💀 this happens to me a lot😭

Omg that happens to me all the time or I would forget how to pronounce a word. Thanks for the request.

'•.¸♡ what is it called again? ♡¸.•'

Fyodor x gn!reader

Fluff

Masterlist

Enjoy!

!please read this note first! There will be parts spoken in other languages, whenever they are it will look something like this - 'привет' (privet- hello), first the word, how to pronounce it and the translation. This will be used for languages that use the Latin letters as well e.g. 'cześć' (cheshch - hello) i would like to apologise before hand if the pronunciation is a bit off for some of the words, idk how you would write the pronunciation of some words/letters. The language reader speak is Polish 'cause I don't know common words between Russian and other languages. Thank you for reading and enjoy the show.

It's unusual for people who speak multiple languages to forget words, but what do you do when you forget something? You play charades or say 'the thing' till the other person understands what you're saying.

Other times you forget the word completely and have to manage with whatever other words you got.

'Hey, do you know where the thing is?' You asked looking a pair of scissors. 'The thing?' Fyodor repeated confused. 'You know the thing that you do the thing with.' You explain, furious at yourself for not knowing what the word you were looking for was. 'The thing that you can cut with.' You continued explaining. 'Scissors or a knife?' Fyodor asked, aiding you in finding the right words. 'Yes! Scissors! Where are they?' A slight smile grew on you face as you remembered the word.

Sometimes you two were unfortunate to forget words in English/Japanese completely so you had to make do with your native languages.

Some words would always be similar but you never seemed to understand each other.

'как продвигается ужин, дорогая?' (kak prodvigayetsya uzhin, dorogaya? - How's dinner going, dear?) Fyodor asked walking into the kitchen. 'Huh?' You looked at Fyodor with a puzzled look.

'O co ci chodzi?' (O tso chee hodzee - what are you saying?) You asked in return, it wasn't common for one of you to forget English/Japanese but for you both to forget at the same time, it was going to be difficult to communicate.

Fyodor only sighed in response knowing you were both fucked when it comes to talk for a while. Fyodor still tried talking to you hoping you would catch a word or two, and after living together you did learn a word or two from each other so hopefully it won't be so bad.

You heard the timer go off and walked over to the pot filled with delicious smelling soup. 'Możesz mi ten drugi garnek podać?' (Mozshesh mee ten drugee garnek podach - can you pass me the other pot?) You asked. Fyodor gave you a confused look and asked 'что?' (Chto - what?) 'Ah sama go sobie wezmę' (ah sama go sobie vezme - ah I'll take it myself) you waved him out of the way.

Fyodor only smiled slightly half understanding the last word you spoke. He saw what you were doing and offered to help, without mentioning it to you. He took the sieve and placed it on top of the empty pot you prepared. You took the filled with soup and poured it over the sieve. After draining the soup you walked of with the pot to quickly wash it and Fyodor threw away the unwanted vegetables. The sieve was place above the skin and you drained another pot holding ushka (not actual ears tho).

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Sorry I didn't really know what to write about at the end :')

Now I want boshch.

The movie of the hour is - cadaver! At first it gave occult vibes, then post war and back to a cult.

Have a wonderful day/night and stay hydrated!

-love, Az

[fizzigigsimmer]

Ahem.

Imagine Billy’s first spring show at the academy being Frankenstein. He and Steve are still in their rival stage and Steve is gloating because he got the part of Victor, who is technically the lead. Billy’s pissed because they were both good but he thinks he did better at his audition. No he doesn’t think it, he knows it.

This is total bullshit and obvious favoritism. He wants to just pack his bags and walk out, only he hasn’t hated the last couple of months the way he thought he would. His classes are challenging and it’s been nice not having to hide his books or pretend like he doesn’t give a shit about his grades without his dad looming over him. And fuck, yeah, he’ll admit it, he’s not sure if he’s ready to give up dancing again.

Being able to practice every day with Argyle & Eddie who almost feel like friends now, learning from teachers who really know their stuff and who can push him to be better - he’s not ready to walk away from it. Which burns. Because he doesn’t want to need this place more than he wants it; and that’s what drives him into Mrs. Harrington’s office, calling her out for her Nepo Casting. He all but dares her to admit that he was better and therefore should have gotten the part as Victor.

He’s speechless when she agrees with him - about the audition. Not about the part.

“I don’t need to tell you you’re good Billy. You already know it. You’ve scored the highest on every exam this term.”

“So then why -”

“Because this is a school, Billy, and while some competition between students is to be expected you shouldn’t mistake this for one. This place is meant to prepare you for the world first, but more specifically to teach you to be an artist within it. Our job as your teachers is not to hand out parts based on how you score on a sheet, but on how you might grow. I gave you that role because you bring something to it that few of your fellow students can, and I believe there is much you can learn from it. Likewise, the part of Victor will challenge Steve technically as well as mentally. When I approved the curriculum for this term I’ll admit I wasn’t confident that reading the novel in English would sufficiently teach him anything about the pitfalls of pride and hubris -”

Billy snorts. Because if Harrington manages to write a thoughtful essay on Frankenstein’s themes without Wheeler spoon feeding it to him he’ll eat his hat. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes dance like she read his mind and shrugs.

“I was never much of a reader either. Dance has always spoken to me in a language that is easier to understand.” She smiles at him, tenderly, with that same look in her eye that Billy’s mom always had when she talked about dance. It’s a look he sees every day now reflected in the eyes of so many almost friends. Still. It’s not fair. Steve gets the lead because he’s an arrogant prick and mommy hopes playing out the demise of another stuck up asshole will teach him to play nice with the other kids, and Billy just has to take it?

“It’s not fair.” he challenges, and Mrs. H. sighs a little, her smile fading as her expression settles into something more serious. Final.

“You did very well Billy. But no. Victor is not the role you should have.” She says, closing the door on any further argument with one of her direct unblinking stares. “I’m confident you’ll do very well as the creature, and that the rest of this term will be an education for you.”

She doesn’t say as much but Billy doesn’t need anyone to tell him the conversation is over. For better or for worse he’s Frankinstien’s creature and he’s going to have to put up with Steve, Tommy and Jason giving him shit until the show is over. As he leaves the madame’s office he vows to himself then and there that he’s going to outshine Steve on that stage and make him eat every word. Victor isn’t even the true protagonist of that story anyway, and Billy’s going to show them all why.

[melishade]

Sorry about that. Named are not my strong suit. Especially if the names aren't English or Spanish. The only foreign show I've watched where I can remember all the names is One Piece.

Anyways, if Elita's been trapped that long, between Zeke talking to the Emporer and Mikasa's visit, that means she missed the fight.

There's no way she's not gonna notice the new scar on Optimus' shoulder. Levi and/or Wheeljack would definitely take the opportunity to get Megatron in trouble twice in one day.

Elita-1: So, what did I miss?

Optimus: Oh, nothing much. Just bit of trouble with the Marleys, Wheeljack and Arcee dropping by, and Azumabito Clan wanting to see our strength by having Megatron and I-

Megatron: *Covers Optimus' mouth* Atatatatatatatarah!

Elita-1: *Glares at Megatron* What happened?

Megatron: Nothing of importance! Mind your own business!

Levi, Wheeljack, and every other person who hates Megatron or likes drama:

@excelciorst Part 8: Elita getting out of Hizuru

Pacifist husband/bloodthirsty wife. That's hilarious.

Elita would ultimately ask about the scar, but Optimus quickly tells her that they'll discuss it later because they have guests and he doesn't want them seeing any more violence than they already have. And the royal family and Kiyomi already got a peak of the Elita v Megatron and the aftermath.

Kiyomi whispering to Taisho: Maybe it was a good investment after all.

Kenshin: Please tell me that you did not refer to the titan that just kicked the Flying Titan's ass as a 'good investment.'

Cause they've heard the reports on the Flying Titan from Marley. And Kiyomi has seen Optimus and Megatron fight. That is honest to god terrifying, seeing one of these titans fight with an intent to kill.

Hanji: Hello, your majesties! My name is Hanji Zoe: Commander of the Survey Corps! While we let Buckethead wallow in a pain of his own creation, how exactly was it that you've managed to find Elita?

Elita and Wheeljack stay outside on the Jackhammer and listen in on the conversation in the building while Optimus and Arcee are inside with their holoforms. Taisho explains that he had bought Elita because he was simply trying to buy one of the newer model cars that came on the market. Kiyomi then explains that Kenshin had learned about Elita's actual identity and were trying to find the exact same model car she copied before anyone found out.

Levi: Buckethead blew her cover by just being himself.

Kiyomi and Kenshin: Yes.

Optimus hates the fact that his conjunx is being considered property but keeps that to himself.

Then there's also the fact that Taisho brings up the deal he and Elita made: 5% increase in energon and protection from coups in exchange for free passage to the island and government secrets. This is a controversial deal, mainly because Elita isn't known and could be at risk of being discovered. Not to mention she's going to be in service to a country that they don't know they can completely trust yet. Katsuko has remained quiet in all this, but does notice the way that Optimus reacts to something that would jeopardize Elita's safety. Something as simple as a flinch or a flex of the finger. Her husband is as stoic as he appears to be, but...this was familiar.

Now somewhere along in that conversation, Taisho does refer to Elita as machinery and/or property, and oh fuck no one has ever seen Optimus look that pissed without saying a word. Arcee is genuinely afraid (because she doesn't know Optimus and Elita are a thing. No one expect Ratchet really knows among the Autobots.) And the Survey Corps immediately take a step back. And Optimus warns Taisho of not referring to any of the Autobots as machinery or property. And then it finally clicks for Katsuko what the hell is going on and quickly requests an intermission before pushing Taisho out the room before he gets himself killed!

Elita is a little embarrassed but also a little smitten. She knows that Optimus was pissed from audio. However, Wheeljack is confused why Optimus reacted that way, and Elita, seeing that the war is finally over, decides to tell him.

Wheeljack:

Finding out that your leader is alive, Megatron is alive, Elita is alive, and that Optimus and Elita are in a relationship really breaks some brains. But the fact that Wheeljack has been on this world for at least 24 hours and this is what he found out, really makes him love the place.

Meanwhile Katsuko has to quietly explain to Taisho away from everyone else that Optimus and Elita are lovers you dense idiot! Taisho already got the idea that Megatron was considered and enemy, and is no doubt considered hostile, but he never expected lovers in any of this.

Katsuko: Darling, lover, my precious hare...you're so dense sometimes and I hate that about you.

Taisho blushing in embarrassment: You married me when I asked, so what does that make you?

Katsuko: You are sleeping on the couch when we get back home.

After that debacle, they work out the deal and come to an agreement before the royal family head back home. Kenshin gives Mikasa her gift of origini and sakura mochi before hugging her (causing Eren to nearly snap at him) before heading off. Elita is finally able to calm down...until she notices the claw marks patched up on Optimus' shoulder.

Elita: Optimus, what happened?

Optimus grows rigid at that question: I fear if I answer, you may kill him.

Elita inhales deeply before turning to Levi: What-!

Levi with the biggest smirk: Optimus and Megatron fought each other to show their battle prowess and Megatron injured Optimus.

Elita's optic starts twitching.

Levi: Drawing energon.

Elita draws her sword. Optimus gets in her way.

Optimus: Let it go.

Elita: Optimus-!

Optimus, more commanding: I am ordering you to let. it. go. I am fine.

Elita puts her sword away: Stop making excuses for him.

Optimus: It has been a long day. I do not want any more conflict.

Levi laments being robbed of his fun. Meanwhile, Hanji is surprised at how much Levi is actually smiling because of Megatron getting pain.

Optimus and Elita definitely spend some time catching up with each other in private. Elita goes after Megatron again once he feels better. Wheeljack tells Arcee about Optimus and Elita being in a relationship, and she goes:

This world is going to break her brain.

And true to Katsuko's word, Taisho sleeps on the couch, and she locks his office so he can stew in what he did wrong.

[thebottomfromhell]

It's me once again- I see the post and I really want to say I like it so much technically I just sitting on the bed and I just got an idea you know how demon they lost their memories when they was a human right so I was thinking how about reader turned into a demon but he forgot about his husband/wife and what I mean is the upper-moon I don't know it just it just popped in my head and yeah I have nothing to say more by the way have a nice day on night time and take care of too!!

[I'm not English by the way so if I say something wrong I'm sorry]

It was a bit messy, but I think that I understood enough to work on it. The reader in the traditional courting headcanon was already a demon, so I will change a bit the content.

Sorry it took so long, I had some things accumulated.

Male husband reader forgets Uppermoon after becoming a Demon.

Warnings: Angst, Referenced threats to reader, Implied suicidal character (why are we doing this to Akaza?), Douma...

Gyutaro:

"So that's it, ne?" He feels bitter about it, but doesn't see the need to fight against the change. So what if you had a relationship? A marriage? It's all useless if you don't remember it. It was a miracle that you loved him, now it's gone. Because he doesn't think you could come to love him a second time. And that hurts him too much, he rathers to evade you than trying again.

He distances himself and Daki gives you hell as her brother becomes everyday depressed, and even as you try to reconnect, none of them would let you, making it a cycle. None of them will do anything if you want to redo your life ("I never liked you anyway. My onii-chan is much better without you!")

The best thing would be to move on, but it's your choice. Just take in account, if managing to get Gyutaro warming up to you before, now it's impossible. [Also Muzan would kill you since you would become useless.]

Gyokko:

Gyokko doesn't give a damn, he is mostly offended, but besides that? It's not like most demons remember their human life, but he would think he is impactful enough for you to not forget your own marriage.

Still, he is mostly dissapointed, no surprise there. He will give you the chance to go home or go big at the start, if you don't choose there, then he is not welcoming you again, and he will not let ypu regret it of you do choose him.

On the bright side, he will help you to get back into the routine and he will be as patient as he can be with you re-learning, even if he is not naturally patient. But he will try for you.

Sakido:

"Fuck you!" He curses you, insults you and so on. He is insulted, hurted and it takes a long time for him to stand having you around again. The rest of the clones have to convince him to give your relationship another chance.

He really doesn't want to warm up to you again, not knowings things will change with your memory loss, not knowing there is a chance you will stop loving him, so to save his pride he doesn't want to give it a chance. He constabtly puts you down and insults you, but it's not worse than it was before you married.

Moving on would be healthy, but none of the clones, not even Sekido, would forgive you for that. Karaku and Urogi would kill you, Aizetsu would let them knwing they will have much less mercy than he would.

Karaku:

Karaku would not be mad, just dissapointed. Still, he likes the fact that he gets to court you this time. After getting over how it hurt that you don't remember, he would get all flirty with you, giving you gifts and willing to re-start from zero, confident that you will love him again.

Sekido seems a lot more angry and offended than he is and at times tries to urge Karaku to give up on you (there is also that he keeps using you as an excuse to not work, so you would have to win Sekido.... again).

He would court you untill you fall in love with him, so you would not get a chance to reject him (he is insisntence). Also Sekido would torture you if you did (he would be so angry none of the others would dare to intervene).

Urogi:

Does it looks like Urogi cares that you don't remember him? The answer, he does. But that is not going to stop him from treating you as if you were still husbands. He would be confident you will reciprocate sooner or later.

Sekido, Karaku and Aizetsu worry over this, since they know Urogi is trying his best to deny reality. Your memories are gone, and they will never come back again. They intervene to make sure will give him a chance at least, even if they have to be the civiliced ones about it for Urogi.

And if you reject him or want to move on, then Sekido and Karalu will be the ones to kill you themselves, Aizetsu would rather comfort Urogi, but he would share the sentiment.

Aizetsu:

Aizetsu would actually cry, and while he is a sorrowful being, he is not fond of crying. He would let you choose what you want to do, but he would mostly shy away, not wanting to face the consecuence of your memory loss and the fact that is permanent.

Karalu and Urogi would urge you both to give tge relationship another chance (and prevent Sekido from killing you). In the end Aizetsu would give it another chance, rather unsure if you will love him again.

But again, he would hate to feel he is imposing his feelings, so you're free to do whatever you want. (Sekido, Karaku and Urogi say otherwise, and this is Aizetsu we are talking about. Nl matter how scary Sekido is, they are all in the same page. Break his heart, they break you.)

Nakime:

Nakime would not know how to react, she never wanted to have a husband again on ghe first place, but she became fond of ypu. You help her a lot around and became an important part of her routine. She would not push you away, but she would also make no effort to redo things.

He would be the one to force you to start up with her, and she would resent the fact that you got no choice. Again, she would not know what to do no matter what. You were the one who stablished the dynamic and Nakime isn't even sure kf she wants you to love her. She just knows she misses you.

Still, if you wanted to move on and make your own life, she would let you. In the end it would be your move. [Just know that Muzan would kill you since you became useless.]

Akaza:

Akaza would cry and hug you tight, he would not be able to let go as he holds you both gently anf firmly. He feels he lost you and at the same time you are just there. You don't remeber, and you never will. You are esencially a different person right now, not his husband.

He is utterly destruyed, he lost his beloved again, he lost it all again. You promised that nothing would happen, but you are gone, someone did it. Nobody did it. Akaza doesn't know what tl do but cry, and he wants to die so badly. It can be fixed, but he is not in conditions to do it, so if you choose to not redo your relationship...

He apologizes a lot and lets you do as you please, he doesn't want anything out of pity, but someone will die if nobody helps. [Also, you know the deal. Muzan will kill you if you fail to be useful.]

Douma:

"Well, it's a pity! Really, but you still have duties as my consort!" Douma doesn't feel affected by it. The official ceremony makes it your duty to stay by his side and help him with his followers, so he doesn't care.

That doesn't mean that he doesn't notice the difference, you no longer know how to treat him, what he likes or to satisfy his needs. It's rather annoying that you have to learn all this things again, but he gives you time and have his cult members helping you through it.

Things will go back to normal in time, wherever you want it or not.

Kokushibou:

Well, that's sad, really. It was nice to have you as a husband, but time's up and life goes on. And yes, those are Kokushibou's thoughts. He jas left a family behind once and was left behind by family before, this is not new and he can continue easily as he did before meeting you.

He will pity himself and put distance between you both, but if you don't insist into getting close he will take it as a rejection. He doesn't think you will come to love him again, so he doesn't want to try anything.

It's all up to you, he will literally do nothing, as always. [And Muzan will not kill you, since your part wasn't as important to begin with. Your presence barely matters, so hou are truly free to do as you please]. Re-start should be just a bit harder than the first go, but is a pausible quest.

[malware-180]

The unsaid (Tenma x Grimmer)

NOTE: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, SORRY.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

The irritation he felt in his throat gave him no respite day or night; but it did not compare to the mortification of suddenly expelling petals so frequently the last few days.

He suspected what illness was afflicting him, why and by whom. He knew that illness of unrequited love, but he did not believe that, of all the human beings on the face of the earth, he was the one who experienced it. His ability to love was zero according to his own experiences; It was a miracle that he got married and had a son who had died, that outcome made him know how fucking broken he was. For feeling extreme pain?

The opposite, in fact, couldn't feel a damn thing; He did not cry for the loss of his son, which caused his ex-wife to see him as a being without a trace of empathy and warmth.

He was an anomaly in the world, a monster that created Kinderheim 511. It wasn't his fault for having been raised by an experimental orphanage where his childhood was flayed, but he was responsible for managing his own emotions. That was the problem: he didn't grow them successfully, and that made him look like a miserable man in some ways.

The most ironic thing was that when he thought he could never feel like others, he was wrong and, judging by his symptoms, he was feeling fervently.

More unexpected was the reason why he began to feel anemic both physically and mentally. Tenma was a comrade who supported you in any conflict, no matter who you were; Even if you were a scourge of society, the doctor would never look down on anyone. A shepherd who led the lost sheep back to the flock as God commanded.

He had gained a belligerent side after learning that he let Johan live; Germany's monster and Europe's most feared killer. Tenma also bled emotionally, but he never let his spirit be eaten away. What a more ethereal being the Japanese was. It wouldn't be mutual.

Leaving out the fact that Tenma was straight and, even if he wasn't, his reputation would be undermined by their hypothetical relationship; The most important thing is that they were both a pair of melancholic people, aged at heart, exhausted by visceral experiences, and they were not even convinced if loving after all would be ideal. The scalpel would be his savior, he immediately thought. A part of Grimmer wanted to tear his feelings for the Japanese to shreds; The other wanted to delve deeper into this because, even though it was unrequited and began to burn unpleasantly in his system, he felt alive. It would be a whim to remain with this feeling for that banal reason; It would also be to get rid of it to avoid pain.

Choosing to die seemed radical to him, and it was not beautiful as others paint it, not even he was as self-pitying. However, a lump formed in her throat at the thought of concluding her love for the doctor. What else could the poor devil do? The thorns of the flowers touching his lungs overwhelmed him at a certain time of day. He thought it was some kind of signal to hurry up the surgery, and he already knew who was going to perform it.

“You should have come earlier. You know that right? “ His paternal scolding melted his reasoning at this point.

“I know that love is difficult, but there is always a solution for this type of bad things. Anyway, who is she?”

》He, Kenzo. And he is you. 《

He notified his mind quickly, but he did not have the courage to expel this out loud.

“Irrelevant right now,” he urged.

“It's not the kind of thing you go around telling about; You have to respect the privacy and identity of a lady.” Grimmer learned to pretend very well.

Kenzo shrugged.

"It's not a bad thing to fall in love, Grimmer. It's actually a blessing after a turbulent life like yours. I wish I had the same luck sometimes, but you see, no one has come to claim that position. I'm not in a hurry, really; It's not like I want to go through that stage again. I guess marriage wasn't for me. But you, maybe you have time to get married again. Don't waste it.”

Every word he heard translated into a pang against his ribcage. He was assaulted by a volley of coughs that came accompanied by petals, this time blood spurting out next to them.

The Japanese man soon took his friend to the bathroom so he could vomit without restriction. Tenma lightly tapped the opponent's back, as if that action would decimate the ordeal that the tormented man was suffering. After a few minutes, Grimmer was sitting on a grayish sofa with flecks of gold and sky blue. He should have felt comfortable, but he only felt chills invade his spine and his head hurt a little.

"You must get this out of me soon, or I'm going to become insane", he warned to the Japanese when he offered him a cup of cherry-lemon flavored tea. The doctor frowned at the comment.

"You didn't even make an attempt to conquer that woman, what a shame."

He shook his head, but gave him a smile. His companion pondered for a moment, before responding in a half-defeated voice.

"It seems to me that she had someone else, that's why I didn't court her." The German lied again.

“Oh, yes? I'm sorry for that, it would have been comfortable to see you in love” Tenma highlighted, “But you didn't tell me what her name was, come on. Who was the lucky one? Maybe I know her,” he insisted.

The journalist was emotionally drained. He resolved the conversation simply.

"I'd rather keep that to myself if you don't mind, buddy."

He winked, forced by himself.

Tenma agreed.

He then instructed him to ask his secretary to schedule the operation within a few weeks. Honestly, Grimmer's stomach clenched just thinking about it, and he felt the thorns cling to his insides, as if thereby persuading the German to let them reside permanently.

No way.

●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡

It was exhaustive, but it finally happened. The root of the problem was annihilated, but now the former spy felt like a broken shell; he didn't know the result was going to feel so overwhelming.

The regret of not confessing the truth to Tenma suddenly hit him, he had nothing to lose but he acted cowardly. Perhaps it was the unconscious fear of rejection, or of ruining a friendship with the surgeon. In any case, the operation was irreversible and, after a few weeks, his life began to feel stable again. If he had told Tenma the truth. If only he had...

♠︎•♤•♠︎

Tenma buried the withered flowers in his garden; He thought he would be gentler and more respectful towards them, since they were the symbol of the feelings Grimmer once experienced.

Yes, the Japanese was still emotional.

He couldn't think much about it, because his throat began to itch and his insides seemed to breed something peculiar.

[canmom]

Annecy photodump 2 - museums

On Sunday, before the festival began, I went to a few of the museums around Annecy! Starting with the Palace de l'Îsle, then on to the Chateau d'Annecy and the Museum of Animated Film!

Probably the most iconic Annecy Building, it is presently a museum to both the building's own history and the industrial history of the town, which flipflopped countries a few times before becoming an industrial centre after the French rev. The Palace itself has been at various points a mint, a courthouse and a prison.

The museum is mostly captioned in both French and English. The industrial history gets a bit dry, but the downstairs section on the history of the building itself is cool.

My ticket got me into the castle too so I went up this absurdly picturesque little path...

...to be rewarded with the town skyline. Probably not quite as the dukes of Savoy saw it.

The castle doesn't tell you a lot about its own history for the most part, but it does have a couple of art galleries.

I saw a version of Peter Brueghel the Elder's Massacre of the Innocents - though apparently there's a whole bunch of different versions and this one might not be the real one? Art history is funky.

Much of the lower floor of the gallery had these big romantic nature paintings. And when I say big these are really fucking big, like very much 'this would be the whole wall if we weren't in a literal castle' big.

One thing that is really interesting to me here is that the panorama with its cylindrical projection seems to actually predate panoramic photography. Although I can't say whether this is strictly a cylindrical projection, the insanely wide aspect ratio seems to suggest it would be.

Here's a closeup, showing how a tree breaks down into individual dabbed brushstrokes which suggest the texture of leaves without getting lost in noisy detail - the 'painterliness' so beloved of shader designers. It's fascinating seeing these paintings up close like this!

I'm fairly sure this kid is a chimneysweep? Unfortunately I managed to frame this photo so the painting gets perfectly bisected by the corner of the glass box. I'm not quite sure the relationship of the sculpture and the painting.

They also have a bunch of furniture from the castle, if you like wooden boxes. They built things well chunky back then.

The upper floor of the castle was devoted to contemporary pieces. I don't seem to have taken many photos of these, but here's a bike wheel with bits of broken glass which look like mountains when a projector shines through them:

Later in the week I would go to the Museum of Animated Film! It's a bit of a walk from the town centre but well worth the trip. They had various 1800s-era gadgets that form the precursors to animated film...

...though sadly in the low light of the museum, not all my photos came out good. It's remarkable how well these devices work though! The narrow 'shutter' created by the slots works perfectly to make the images appear animated rather than spinning around. Also the illustration quality, and even general sense of motion, is remarkably sound! Like honestly they could give today's animators a run for our money!

The rest of the museum had production materials showing the full range of different animation techniques: storyboards, key drawings, cels, backgrounds, stop motion puppets, pinscreens etc. They covered the history of animation pretty damn well - go figure, it's the animation museum in Annecy of all places.

They also had a special exhibit on showing drawings from Regina Pessoa, whose films I saw as part of the Portugese animation block. These are so cool to see up close. I'm still not entirely sure what techniques she used to make this film, its style is unique.

(My main camera didn't do great in here due to the low light, but I'm learning how to control ISO to get that exposure time under control. My phone actually did a lot better.)

One thing I didn't manage to photograph was the intro panels to the museum where they defined animation. After various definitions based around e.g. constructing frame by frame, they eventually resorted to a negative definition - animation is basically any film that isn't live action. It was pretty funny reading them struggle to pin down such a broad but intuitive concept.

Next up: more movie related stuff!

[mityaibulkin]

vigilante joker au… I NEED THE LORE !

The BatFam doesn’t know he’s joker??? How did this happen???

i apologize for any mistakes, english is not my first language. i really REALLY tried to make everything make sense.

okayyy so i didn't think about this in detail, but joker disappeared in some accident 2 years before jester appeared. naturally, everyone thought that at one point in time, impersonators would appear, and no one really questioned him. timeline-wise, it happens somewhere after jason quits being a robin (in this au, he never dies because i want my baby to be happy for once), and tim becoming a robin (so tim becomes robin after few month of jester running around).

bruce tried to unmask jester at first. when he was about to, j said, "please, don't spoil the fun." he smiled, "i know you're a control freak, bats. i'm playing by your rules. so can't i just go out and have some fun without you knowing what i like for breakfast or what?"

bruce abandoned the idea after it. didn't track him, didn't dig into him, though he REALLY wanted to. he had to respect jester not wanting to be unmasked.

as for jokers motive, it's all just fun and games. he wanted to have a peak at the other side of the batman.

harleen (her pseudonym is harlequin in this au) appears separately from joker. jester often fights her for "stealing his gimmick".

i imagine jester using a lot of kid toys. toy knives, giant toy hammer, jack-in-the-box toys with smoke, etc. bombs attached, toy guns, that sort of thing. he's just goofing around, painting the town rainbow.

j nearly crosses the line during his manic episodes. bruce slowly learns how to deal with them, the others don't understand why he gives jester so many chances. bruce thinks he can prevent him from becoming another joker. though it's really hard sometimes because jester reminds him of joker a little too much.

bruce reveals first (joker really asked him not to). he never feels like he can trust jester enough, but he needs jester to trust him. it happens during jokers panick attack (i didn't really think about the details) and somehow manages to calm him down, but makes things even worse in the long run.

i imagine two possibilities for jokers reveal, one purposeful and other accidental. in purposeful in happens randomly. they're just sitting and talking one moment, and the other joker is without his hat and mask, staring, waiting for bruces reaction. in accidental, it happens when while fighting, they get thrown into a water. when they come out and bruce looks at the jester, he starts staring. joker doesn't understand why. his lipstick and eyeshadow partly washed away, revealing more of the white skin. bruce walks up to him and runs a finger along his cheek, trying to wipe the white paint off, and joker slowly understands how fucked he is.

this reveal can go two ways, too. they either try to make it work or return to the old ways. i'm an angst hater (🤞) so i imagine them trying to make it work.

i drew a lot of inspiration from the "half way across" fanfic and telltales "the enemy within". well, you can tell.

i think i told everything i imagined yet. ty for asking!!:p i may post more about it if i'll get some new ideas. so i'm creating a tag to find allat easier!! andd i'll go post new sketches of this au now!!

[mamamittens]

The Only Choice +18

Spooktober Day 2!

Fandom: One Piece (Highschool AU)

Ship: Yandere!Ace X Petite!F!Reader (Ace is 19 and Reader is 18)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, murder, Law does not survive, incredibly dubious consent/borderline noncon, coercion, manipulation, groping, kitchen sex, foreplay, nipple/breast play, oral sex (female receiving), aggressive sex, sex as a tool for manipulation, and creampie.

All the red flags here, I stg keep this in mind before reading.

Word Count: 5,231

To say Ace’s childhood growing up was rough would be… an understatement. While not exactly a feral child, the way he was openly encouraged to explore the mountain range to his heart’s content from a young age did jack shit to his social skills. Instead of learning how to share his blocks and manage his temper, he learned more… useful things. How to move silently at night among predators. How to stalk and hunt prey animals—and later the predators he emulated so well. Ace learned all sorts of important lessons in the heart of the forest.

Then Sabo came along and taught him the things he missed out on. How to hold a proper conversation—that eye contact wasn’t a sign of aggression. Basic social etiquette and behavior—he should not bludgeon competitors to death with a club in broad daylight. What personal space even was—snapping his teeth may be an effective way to clear up space but was undeniably rude. Still, he was incredibly rough around the edges. Really, it was Luffy that taught him how to behave like a more balanced young man, ironically enough.

Wrangling the embodiment of chaos sure does some things to an ingrained pattern of aggressive behavior. And Luffy was quite durable and forgiving for his screw ups, unlike Sabo who gave as good as he got. A perfect little pipeline for a terror of a mountain child to eventually be given to a chaotic family that taught him to embrace but control his wild urges. Whitebeard was indulgent of his behavior—but only to a point. And he was absolutely capable of bringing him back in line when needed.

So, eventually, Ace was ready to enter the school system without being a flight, fight, or tiny terrorist risk. Sure, he was held back a year, but to be fair… no one remembered to teach him how to read in all that socialization. But he worked hard and got back on track. And he would have probably half assed everything right up till graduation if it hadn’t of been for one thing.

His precious little sweetheart. You.

Having transferred in a bit late during their shared first year of high school, Ace had always been aware of her. How could he not? A sweet little thing in a sea of sweaty, hormonal teens. It took a lot of work, but over the course of three years, Ace steadily made his way into the highly prized position of being her best friend. Anyone that wanted to get near her went through him first. Overhyped football players, weak little twig boys, and unredeemable perverts alike.

And he did an excellent job of keeping the filth of the school far away from his sweetheart right up until he had to leave for a few weeks on vacation. Gramps lost several boxes of rice crackers to the ocean under mysterious circumstances for that, even if he did enjoy spending time with his brothers in peace. But look what happens when he leaves her alone! Gone for a month and some fancy fucking prick moves in on her!

What. The. Fuck.

He never wanted to hear a crack about his cowboy hat after seeing the spotted monstrosity Trafalgar D. Water Law wore. And he had the fucking audacity to put his hands on you? To think he was good enough to even hold hands in the hall—mother fucker didn’t even bother to look happy about it! Law just kept wearing that same smug look the whole time like Ace couldn’t see jack shit!

It wasn’t like he’d never seen Law before now. They had crossed paths in the hallways. Shared projects in English class on occasion. And Ace knew Law had a few science projects with you as well over the years. But Law had always kept his nose in his books unless he was required to or walking that massive white dog. Bepo, he thought. Although, is that really all Law had done?

Ace was your best friend. You wouldn’t suddenly date someone without telling him first! Not… not unless you were coerced. He could see it now. You, sweet precious thing that you were, taken advantage of. Lead astray to keep secrets like Ace wasn’t working tirelessly to keep you safe. With a sneer, Ace supposed that in such a scenario, it wasn’t entirely impossible Law nursed a crush in your delicate heart. Encouraging you to think of him romantically. Law wasn’t the most hideous man at their school.

And with Ace gone for a whole month well… a lot of things can happen over a month. He’d need to correct this situation as soon as possible. But first, he needed to know exactly what happened while he was gone. And if this had been brewing for longer than he expected. The punishment had to fit the crime, naturally.

He wasn’t a feral mountain child anymore, after all. Mostly.

Giving you his best smile, he slid over to your other side and beamed.

“Well, well, well. When did this happen? You didn’t tell me you were all grown up now!” Ace teased, ruffling your hair and ignoring your protests. You were smiling and laughing, which was all the go-ahead Ace needed. Law however, was still a smug bastard as he held your other hand, chaining you to his side. Like he had any right!

“Ace! Stop that!” You scoffed, smacking his arm lightly, “And uhm… we… we thought it would be nice to try it out, you know? Just to see where it goes.”

Ace felt his muscles tense with rage but maintained his pleasant expression. This fucker just wanted to string you along! And for what?! How long?! Until he’s taken everything you have that belongs to him—

“Ooo~, what little love birds you two are. Try not to make me gag too much, ‘kay sweetheart?” Ace winked, ruffling your hair again strutting to his class. Unfortunately, he didn’t share any class periods with you this semester. Something he was unable to rectify in time without looking suspicious. Still, it did provide him the space he would sorely need to plan how to get rid of this new pest.

He'd hate to let down Oyaji by allowing a little problem like this to bite him in the ass later. In the meantime,… he’d play nice.

Tigers never found success without stalking their kills first after all.

Still, it was hard for Ace. Watching you fall for Law’s tricks hook, line, and sinker. You both sat together at lunch every day, held hands whenever possible, went on dates when time allowed. And Ace grew to resent Law more with every passing hour. That damn smug look a permanent expression regardless of how cute you acted, hanging off Law’s arm. Ace should have given you the talk long ago and avoided this whole mess to start with. But really… deep down, Ace was a romantic at heart.

And what was more romantic than planning the perfect way to get rid of your soon-to-be-ex so he could sweep you off your feet properly?

As it turns out, it was actually not that hard to plan Law’s death. See, he was actually quite sickly as a child. Some sort of poisoned water situation in his hometown. Eventually he got better, but his internal organs were severely damaged in the process. Not enough to replace them entirely, but enough to require a careful diet for several years. Like, for example, his kidneys.

Honestly, Ace could almost feel bad about the whole thing. Law waxed on about his dream to become a doctor in the hopes of preventing his childhood disaster on several occasions. He was probably smart enough to do a lot of good for the world. If he had kept his fucking hands to himself first that is.

Who knew a few milligrams of mushroom concentrate could cause a total renal failure within hours? And who would have guessed the stoic Trafalgar Law would choose to keep quiet about his little ‘stomach bug’ as his guardians left town for the weekend?

Ace chuckled to himself as he crept away from the house, leaving no trail to follow. The fact that Ace had wrapped Law in a blanket with a gag in place to make sure of it was simply a happy accident. He wanted to tie Law to a chair but the bruises would look suspicious. And arranging a camping trip ‘just for the boys’ was too obvious, even if he fed Law to the mountain lions.

No, Ace was actually running errands for Oyaji all night! Several people can attest to that fact if questioned.

Which no one did.

Because poor Law, honor student and future doctor, passed quietly in his sleep after taking more pain medication for his sudden illness. An illness that proved fatal and swift. What was there to question with those facts in mind?

The toll this took on you, of course, was incredible. You were inconsolable for days, your tender heart shattered from the sudden death of your boyfriend. As much as Ace hated to see you cry—especially over that bastard—it was necessary. Like… removing an invasive species for the betterment of all. But Ace was there every minute he could be. Oyaji was very understanding as well, allowing Ace to stay at your house for as long as needed.

He was also quite proud of how Ace handled the situation on his own, but that little detail was simply icing on the top!

For the most part, consoling you involved watching old movies with your head tucked under his chin. Encouraged by Ace conveniently turning the air down slightly past your normal tolerance. Thinning frame cuddled in a blanket fort at his side as he encouraged you to cry it all out and eat something. Anything. The outside world didn’t exist as far as you were concerned. And while Ace definitely appreciated catching up on personal time with you… your health was something else entirely. This whole ‘mourning’ thing was taking too long. Especially for someone that didn’t deserve to be with you to begin with.

Thankfully, Ace had better tact than to say that… maybe he should have staged an elopement to make this easier for you? Too late now, really. A thought for the future perhaps. Not that there would ever be a chance he lets this happen twice. But how to ensure it? How does he help you move on from Law faster?

The answer came with a crockpot that Thatch provided—wonderful big brother that he was, honestly where would he be without his family or you? The crockpot held a hearty soup, perfect for broken hearts. The trick was getting you to eat. The little bites of crackers or ice cream you held down never lasted before a crying fit tossed them back up. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Law had also poisoned you literally. But he couldn’t hurt you anymore. Not with Ace here to keep a careful eye on your fragile, loving heart.

Ace pondered the dilemma as he waited for the crockpot to heat up. The house empty as your parents were at work and the two of you excused on ‘bereavement’. Well, you were excused. Ace simply had Oyaji excuse him for the time being to support you with the promise that as soon as you were more stable the both of you would have study sessions with Marco to catch up. There wasn’t any sense in letting tragedy derail your education, now was there? Law had done enough damage as it was.

A sniffle in the doorway alerted Ace to your presence as you shuffled into the kitchen. A duvet draped over your shoulders as you gave a weepy smile.

“Smells good… I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Ace.” You sniffled again, “I-I promise I won’t be a crybaby forever.” Ace rushed over, throwing his arms around your covered shoulders and rubbing your back.

“No, no, sweetheart! It’s okay! I’m not going anywhere. That’s my promise.” Ace consoled despite the sneer he hid in your hair, “Law meant a lot to you. It’s perfectly normal to be upset.” Slowly, he walked backwards until he was next to the counter and picked you up. Gently, he set you down on the counter and braced himself to lean over you, kissing your forehead softly.

“Thank you, Ace.” You whispered, moving to rub your eyes but he beat you to it. Gently wiping away your tears with a soft smile as you shivered. Ace frowned in concern and you shook your head. “Just cold. I… haven’t eaten a lot lately. I-I’m so tired, Ace. But I can’t sleep. I keep seeing Law… I wish I could forget. Just… just for a little while.”

Suddenly, Ace had an idea. A wonderful, brilliant idea.

“I hate seeing you like this too… Could… Could I try something?” Ace asked in his softest voice, “I’ll stop if you want me to but nothing else has worked so I thought…” You frowned, cute face scrunched up in confusion.

“Try what, Ace?” Slowly, deliberately, Ace cradled your face in his hands. Warm palms pressing against your cold cheeks. Not wanting to fuck up this soon, he kissed your forehead. Then your nose. Slow, lingering touches against your skin as you made a confused sound at the back of your throat. “W-What are you doing, Ace?”

“Warming you up… giving you something else to think about.” Ace brushed his hands back, threading his fingers through your hair with a deceptively light pressure to keep you still. “Just focus on me, baby. Nothing else matters. Let me help you forget… just for a little while.” Ace tested the waters by pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You didn’t move away from him, seemingly frozen in surprise.

He could feel you physically wavering, wanting to pull away out of a misplaced sense of loyalty to a dead man and lean into the creature comfort Ace readily offered. Ace held perfectly still for a long moment before pulling away. Just a little.

And you followed the motion, sliding your lips to press firmly against his own. Ace felt like screaming in victory—but the fight wasn’t over yet. He needed to wipe Law from your mind completely.

Ace sighed, just a little dramatically like he was relieved you didn’t slap him. Pulling open his lips to encourage you to do the same, tongue running across the narrow gap as you gasped. Chasing the sharp inhale eagerly. He slipped his tongue over yours and you pulled away suddenly with a sharp hiccup and tears.

“I-I can’t!” You shook your head, pressing your hands over your mouth as you sobbed. Desperately, Ace soothed his hands over your shoulders.

“Hey—hey, it’s alright. Everything is alright! You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.” Ace pulled you closer to him, ignoring how you tried to jerk away, “I’m sorry… I just hate to see you cry. I want to make you happy again—but I failed—I-I should… I should just leave.” Ace pulled away suddenly and started to turn around.

A cold, desperate hand grabbed his wrist and Ace smirked. You were too sweet for your own good.

“No! A-Ace, please don’t leave me too. I-I just feel so… so alone and cold. I-I don’t know how to make it stop!” You cried out.

Ace slowly turned around with a soft and understanding expression.

“I know, baby. I know.” Ace carefully stepped closer to you, like he was ready to pull away at any moment. “Trust your best friend to make it all better?” Ace leaned in close and whispered into your ear.

With a light sniffle, you nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders with a shiver. Thankfully Ace was here to make everything better again.

“J-Just don’t leave me.” You asked of him.

Like he ever intended to, to begin with.

“Never.” Ace swore, pressing slow kisses across your jaw, “Just… trust the process, baby. Trust me to make it better.” Ace reassured you.

“…Okay. I trust you.” You whispered, the words vibrating on his lips delightfully. Giddy, Ace started back where he left off. Your soft lips were just begging to be tasted properly. Gently, Ace titled your chin up and slipped his tongue back in again. Flicking playfully across your own. Slowly overwhelming you with his presence as your head lifted up for more with every pass. Soft pants slipping between your lips at his sufferance.

Ace kissed you deep, refusing to part from your lips until you were dizzy and gasping for air. Your eyes a slim ring of color around the pupils, lips puffy from his abuse. You were as responsive as he thought you’d be to his advances. Even with that… unfortunate distraction, it was clear you were meant to be his. Completely. And if he wanted to prove it, he’d need to get to work.

Softly, Ace caressed your skin, pushing back the blanket still curled around your body. Stroking up your arms and shoulders as he kept kissing you breathless. Slowly, like he had imagined hundreds of times before, Ace slipped his hands under your shirt. Grip firm as he made his wild fantasies a reality, one inch of your skin at a time. You jolted in surprise, a small noise of protest forming.

The sound muffled under his tongue as he moaned loudly, his vocal appreciation flustering you as he slipped even further under your clothes. Palming your breasts blindly, fingertips brushing over your nipples as a shy groan squeaked out. Ace pulled back, toying with the stiff peaks as a sly grin overtook his features.

“You’ve been so cold baby… are you feeling warmer yet?” Ace asked softly against your lips. Flustered, you nodded. A quick pinch forcing you to use your words.

“Y-Yes!” Pecking your cheek, Ace slowly pulled up your shirt and bra.

“See? We’re just getting started and I’m already making you feel better.” Ace cooed, encouraging you to lift up your arms so he could toss away the clothes. “Go ahead. Kiss me. Don’t be afraid.” Ace gently pulled your arms to his shoulders and returned to teasing your breasts.

Face noticeably warm, you were breathless as you leaned forward clumsily and pressed a damp kiss to his neck. Ace groaned in surprise, squeezing your breasts slightly as he struggled to control himself. His cock was straining in his pants and Ace was surprised he didn’t cum from that shy kiss alone. Fuck, he’d been wanting this for years now. And now?

He was so close he could taste it.

But he had to let you indulge first. Allow you to explore his body like he desperately wanted to explore yours. Carefully, Ace let one hand slide down over your stomach, teasing the waistband of your sweatpants as he pinched and pulled on one of your breasts. You moaned, mouth open as you kissed the underside of his chin. Humming eagerly, Ace slipped his hand in, enjoying the sharp gasp in surprise as your nails dug into his shoulders.

“A-Ace! W-W-Waa—hah-o-oh~!” Ace cut you off, his middle finger hooking in low to drag up your clit. The slight dampness wasn’t much, but it would do for now. Dipping his fingers deeper, Ace scooped up the growing liquid that pooled against your underwear and ruthlessly used it against you. Slipping between your folds in unpredictable patterns of fast and slow. Hard and gentle. Until you moaned, hips grinding down on his hand.

You were leaning on him almost entirely now, mouth agape as you panted, occasionally gathering enough of your wits to kiss his neck and chest. Leaning down to your ear, Ace whispered praises.

“You’re so beautiful for me.”

“That’s it. Make that pretty sound again, sweetheart.”

“Mmm… so wet.”

“Am I making you feel good?”

“I always keep my promises.”

“Focus on me. Who’s making you feel like this?”

“Go on. Cream for me. I want to feel you.”

You were crying. Good tears this time as Ace crooked three fingers into your wet pussy. Rocking you against his hand with his body, a mockery of how hard he wanted to fuck you. And you responded beautifully. Bashfully hiding your face even as your pitiful noises echoed in the kitchen. You were so small like this, curled up against him.

Ace wondered if he could convince you to a quickie in one of the school closets, the tight space would do wonders for seeing how creative he could get… but the prospect of anyone else hearing your moans killed the idea instantly. Only he would get to see you like this. Flushed and crying out for his hand. Unknowing how hard he was for you. Your heart beating against his palm as he continued groping your breasts with one hand.

“Ace!”

Suddenly, you keened, body freezing as your cunt squeezed his fingers hard. Trying to push him out. He chuckled softly, forcing them deeper into the soft, wet space. Fucking your cunt a little harder to pull out every last moan he could as you started to shake. As you came down from your high, Ace kissed you, stealing those precious sounds from your lips.

He wasn’t done quite yet.

“So beautiful. You did so well… but you could be even better.” Ace pulled his hand free and licked it clean. You tasted somewhat sweet and heady. The taste going straight to his cock as he moaned, much to your embarrassment. “Look at this mess, baby. How can I leave you so wet?” Ace reached down and tugged at your waistband meaningfully.

Your eyes widened as you started to realize what he was implying. You shook your head.

“I-Isn’t that… I-I think this is good enough.” Ace smiled down at you indulgently, hands dipping under your waistband but sliding to your ass instead.

“But I want to make you feel even better. Let me take care of you.” Ace licked his tongue up your neck to your ear, nipping the tip. “I want to put my face between your thighs… lick that cute little clit. Press my tongue between your lips. It must be so wet and messy down there. I want to drink it all up. Let me in, baby. Don’t you trust me?” Ace enticed you, voice a low moan as his hands dipped lower.

You lifted your hips with a moan of your own, allowing Ace to pull your sweatpants down. Leaving you bare on the counter.

Ace, no fool, wasted no time shoving his tongue into your mouth in gratitude. Hands now free to spread your thighs. After moaning, low and deep into the kiss, Ace pulled his head back. Immediately placing one of your breasts into his mouth. Mimicking the motions he was going to make shortly. Flicking your nipple with his tongue and pressing the muscle up and down the supply underside. The sounds you made in shock were divine. You gripped his hair desperately, crying out and panting. Reluctantly, he allowed your soft tit to fall free of his lips.

Slowly losing control, Ace made good on his promise immediately.

Sealing his lips over your exposed cunt and shoving his tongue into your body. Sliding against your walls, eager to taste every inch. Anything you said went right over his head in favor of the twitching heat that surrounded his tongue. Ace was more turned on than ever before at the flood of sweet cream as he fucked you. Occasionally, he nudged his nose up to press against your clit, never failing to inspire a sharp moan from you.

“A-Ah! Ah! H-Hah—ohohoh—A-Ace—ngh! Please! I-I nnnn-ne-HaHn~!” You stuttered and moaned brokenly. Ace’s cock leaking precum as he forced your knees further apart against the force of your twitching thighs.

You yanked his hair suddenly with a scream hard enough to remove him. Ace only had time to glimpse your swollen cunt dripping fresh cum before he snarled and dove back in. Hands moving to grip your ass, knees over his shoulder, as he lifted you up to pin you to his face a few inches above the counter.

You screamed, cunt throbbing hard as you gripped his head, curling over him. He almost choked on the amount of liquid flooding his face, but he noisily sucked it up. Punishing you for pulling away by nipping your clit and triggering a weak splash against his chin. Unable to pull free, you moaned and twitched as he ate to his hearts content. Cock now almost burning against his pants, aching to be deep in your pussy instead of his tongue.

Reluctantly, he set you back down, pulling away just enough to shove his pants down. Cock bobbing free. You jerked back and Ace tutted, gripping your chin to look at him.

“Am I not good enough for you, baby? Can you feel how hard I am? I’m fucking aching for relief, I’ve wanted you for so long…” Ace kissed you, rubbing his tongue still thick with the taste of your own cum around your mouth. Forcing you to taste what had driven him over the edge. “I worked so hard to make your cute little cunt cream for me. To warm you up again. I-I want to feel you around me, baby. Let me have this. Please.” Ace begged softly, grinding his heavy cock into the slick mess between your thighs.

Your eyes were teary as you looked away, still rattled by your orgasm.

Slowly, Ace pressed his hips forward, letting you feel how his cock spread your pussy open. You inhaled sharply and shook your head.

“T-Too much! T-This is too mu—Ah~!” Ace thrust in, hips slapping into your thighs. Ace moaned into your lips loudly.

“O-Oh, I-I’m so sorry baby. Here—oh fuck you’re so soft and tight around me I w-w-want to just ngh!—L-Let me pull out—” Ace slowly dragged his thick cock from the vice grip your cunt had around him. The sudden empty sensation made you dig your nails into his skin and he purposefully slammed back into place. A shrill moan slipped from your lips as he moaned into your open mouth. Ace didn’t need to play up how incredibly turned on he was, gently resting his head on your shoulder and pressing soft kisses onto your skin. “Fuck! Sorry—I-I’m sorry baby—you startled me! T-This time I-I’ll leave you.”

Ace pulled back as reluctantly as he could but his cock didn’t even make it half way before you panicked.

“No! A-Ace—Oh Ace I-I ca-can’t—Y-You pr-prom-promised--!” Ace snapped his hips into your body again.

“Y-You mean it, baby? I-I can fuck you?” Ace whispered in that sad, pathetic voice that always made you tear up.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Ye—AH—OH F-FUCK AHN—Ace I-I-I ooohhhh~hng—ah!” You agreed and Ace wasted no time drilling into you. Slamming his cock into your body fast. Driving all thoughts from the both of you besides how thick his dick was in your cunt and how fast you were already squeezing him.

Just like before, your body was too weak to force him out even as you came. His hips overpowering you to keep fucking you harder and harder. Ace eagerly let every filthy moan and perverse thought spill from him as he worked towards his goal.

“Yes! Y-Your finally mine!”

“I’m going to fuck you so much.”

“Squeeze my cock, baby. I’m so close.”

“I almost came on your tits, you were so fucking beautiful screaming for me.”

“Do it again. Scream for me.”

“Is my thick cock driving you mad? Good.”

“I’m going to cum right here.”

“Remember how good I make you feel.”

“Only for me, baby. That’s right. For me.” Ace felt the electricity shoot up his spine like a live wire as his balls tingled. Every thrust accompanied by a lewd, wet sound from how hard he was slamming into your wet cunt. Nail marks burned along his back as you screamed for him, pussy pulsing around him.

Finally, with a hard thrust, he came as deep into your cunt as he could. The world faded out as his thick cum shot out in hot spurts. He could only faintly hear you crying against his shoulder as his hips made aborted thrusts to fuck his cock deeper. Shakily, Ace rubbed your back, panting into your skin.

It was only after he felt his cock soften that he registered you were crying. Leaning back but not removing himself from the warmth of your dripping cunt, Ace looked at your face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Ace cradled your face gently, pressing kisses to your cheeks. “Let me make it better.”

“I-I-I… How could I?” You whimpered, shaking your head, “I-I betrayed him!”

Ace frowned, pussy-drunk mind slow to process. When it did, he nearly snarled. Almost threw you to the ground to fuck those stupid thoughts from your sweet, impressionable head.

“No! Baby, no you didn’t!” Ace whispered, kissing your lips softly as he made gentle thrusts to hopefully distract you. “He’d want you to be happy. He cared about you so much… and you’ve been so upset. You’ve lost so much weight. You can barely sleep. You haven’t done anything wrong. Put those nasty thoughts out of your head.” Ace slowly started fucking you again.

You moaned, conflicted but still not thinking straight.

“I-I shouldn’t be… It’s so wrong. O-Oh~A-Ace!” You moaned as you felt his cock begin to harden inside you, “I-I’m taking advantage of you—you’re my best friend!”

Ace chuckled, kissing you into silence.

“If this is taking advantage of me, you’re welcome to keep doing it.” Ace groaned, “I’ve always loved you, baby… I just want to see you happy again. Please…”

Ace’s thrusts sped up, disrupting your sobs with moans as the mix of cum dripped down both your thighs. Ace leaned forward, forcing you back and reaching a new angle that had you weak instantly, head slamming into the cabinet. Forcefully fucking you harder against the counter, Ace smiled. Ace grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, walking over to the kitchen table.

Ace shoved you flat onto the table, lifting your hips up to directly fuck into your body. Your tears of misplaced guilt were quickly replaced by pleasure as Ace drilled into you.

He had wanted to play nice and gentle. Let you slowly forget about Law.

But it seems like he needed to take a more firm approach.

“…Trust me.”

Starting with your inability to sleep.

Fucking you hard until you passed out on his cock seemed like a wonderful start on the road to recovering from your useless ex. One day you’d forget his name entirely. Ace was going to make sure of it.

[emmersreads]

My Top 5 Worst Books of 2023

I read 119 books in 2023. Some of the were great, most of them were fine, but some of them were real stinkers. Here are my top five worst books of the year.

This year I didn't read any books that I expected to be bad. Each of these is a book with an interesting premise or perspective but that bungles the execution so badly that I hated the time I spent on it.

You can also read the whole thing on my blog!

Honourable Mention:

To Shape a Dragon’s Breath - Moniquill Blackgoose

You can feel extremely strongly about the themes in your book and still churn out absolute pure dogshit. This entry foreshadows a consistent theme to this year’s worst list but only places as an honourable mention because it’s the only book this year that I dnf’ed. To Shape a Dragon’s Breath takes the intriguing premise in the 18th century colonization of east coast North America but also everyone has dragons and then mangles it with the colonizers being a weird combination of the English and the Vikings. The novel interrogates the idea of ‘civilizing’ the indigenous people but without the underlying motivations of Christian and European supremacy and manifest destiny the messaging is confusing and weak. In addition to a coherent message, To Shape a Dragon’s Breath also lacks multidimensional characters and any plot at all. I dnf’ed at 85% completion when I realized that the book wasn’t going to generate a plot at that late hour.

Fifth Place:

Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma - Claire Dederer

I began Monsters with high hopes. There is a lot of meat on the bone of how to love art by the truly reprehensible. Unfortunately it falls victim to a problem shared by all memoirs: in order to be good, the subject has to be interesting. Claire Dederer’s genuinely pretty good discussion of Woody Allen and Roman Polanski devolves into condescending platitudes about why teens like J.K. Rowling, genuinely reprehensible comments about whether getting an abortion makes a woman a monster, and finally into outsourcing her final conclusion to Pearl Cleage’s Mad at Miles. You might as well just read that one instead. Some of Dederer’s commentary is bad because it is poorly researched (Nabokov, J.K. Rowling), but what really bothered me about this book was the nauseating suggesting that women’s monstrousness is exclusively their behaviour as parents, as if being a parent is the primary imperative, at least for women. But else could be described as ‘bad motherhood’? Suicide? Yes! Having an abortion? Absolutely! Not devoting full attention and effort to your children at every moment of your life? Why, you’re just like Woody Allen. The inclusion of some arguments are heinous and the exclusion of others undermines the value of the discussions that do scan. Where’s Kanye West? Surely there’s more to his career than a few lyrics about how his fans don’t know the read him… surely… Sure, committing suicide is super duper monstrous because you’re basically abandoning your kids (heavy sarcasm implied), but what of women like Nicki Minaj? At least for me, a big lesson of the recognition of Problematic Artists is that we don’t actually need to hear from everyone in the name of fairness. Dederer should learn that too.

Fourth Place:

The Idiot - Elif Bartuman

Spicy Hot Take Alert: The Idiot by Elif Bartuman sucks and I am judging you for liking it. I want to be clear about this: I did put this book on the worst list rather than the blandest specifically because it’s so popular. This book is all the more unbearably pretentious because it has nothing to say. It’s fatally boring and exhaustingly incurious. I’ve seen it described on bookstagram as about ‘the formation of the self’ and I suppose corporate middle managers need a formation of the self too. That doesn’t make it book-worthy. Also what the hell are ya’ll talking about this book being relatable?? When I was eighteen I knew fucking everything. Sorry, but I’m different.

Third Place:

The Cheerleaders - Kara Thomas

The Cheerleaders was the first book I finished in 2023 but the memory is not distant enough. For me this was a failure because it seems to hate its own genre. What is the point of a girl detective mystery where it turns out there was no interesting conspiracy behind the deaths and the protagonist doesn’t even pursue the case exhaustively enough to find this out. Sure, maybe its more realistic to suggest that a girl grieving the too-early death of her older sister might be making things up, but I’m not in this genre for the realism. The Cheerleaders doesn’t feel like it has anything interesting to say about subverting the conspiracy-murder, just that it wanted to have a subversion and then couldn’t figure out how to execute that, resorting instead to a deus ex omniscient narrator. It’s like if instead of Sherlock Holmes solving the case through deduction, Arthur Conan Doyle emerged from behind the curtain and told you to go fuck yourself. Read the full review on my website!

Second Place:

Disorientation - Elaine Hsieh Chou

Yellowface by R.F. Kuang was the darling of 2023 but it is not the first novel about a yellowface-ing author who fools the white literary establishment by selling them exactly the kind of bland and easily digestible Asian stories they are comfortable hearing. But it’s a good thing Yellowface did come out because Disorientation needed more time in the fucking oven. Like Yellowface this book attempts a comedic tone, but it chooses pure cringe comedy goofiness over irony and as a consequence rather than being a humourous reflection of Shit White People Do it’s more Making Up A Guy to Get Mad At. It’s greatest asset is an attempt at a discussion of the intriguing topic of sexual politics. Since white men demonstrably do fetsishize Asian women, is it possible to have an individual relationship that is not based on fetishization? Unfortunately, Disorientation doesn’t actually have anything to say about it and so just wibbles along to a nothing of an ending. It’s a scream of rage to be sure, but not all screams of rage are coherent. This is the second entry on this list that undermines its message because it couldn’t bear to kill a few of its darlings, but not the last!

Worst Book of 2023:

The Bone Witch - Rin Chupeco

We live in an era where ‘wish-fulfillment’ and ‘self-indulgent’ are no longer automatic condemnations, which is all well and good for the people writing them but what of me, the discerning reader? One detects great love and passion in this book but unfortunately that’s no replacement for writing ability. The Bone Witch is haunted above all by the knowledge that the author must have a truly colossal lore bible for this thing. It feels like every chapter the book treats itself of an extended tangent about the political system of one of its half-dozen fantasy nations, none of which are actually important to this book, and damningly, none of which are even well explained. As you might imagine, this leaves precious little time for boring things like plot or characters. The plot is little more than disconnected scenes that the author clearly thought would be cool but didn’t think about how they would link together, meaning that the last quarter acceleration to the climax is occupied by a sitcom b-plot ass arc about helping a friend get into the very special dance recital. The characters are even worse with none of them rising beyond an outlining epithet: angsty protagonist, broody love interest, gay best friend. The attempt at a dark and moody tone is childish and goofy. I found the Geisha theming to be overdone and appropriative, and the use of gay characters to be offensive. The only time the book threatens to have promise is with its beginning, where the protagonist accidentally raises her brother from the dead; however, The Bone Witch is quick to inform us that this changed nothing about him or about their relationship, wouldn’t we rather think about how stylish kimonos are?