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#perspective switch soon :-)
pepperonitowerask · 11 months
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sooo.. what's the plan, Gustavo? Try and get Peppino back to the pizzeria?
-spoon
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Gustavo: "Precisely! And the moment I find Peppino, I'll be able to get his help in finding the others! We'll get out for good this time, no bones about it!"
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Gustavo: "Theeeeere we go, there's my stop!"
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Gustavo: "... Oh. This... it's that weird restaurant again. Awful dark this time around, though... Peppino wouldn't be hiding in here, would he?"
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Gustavo: "... Should've never come to this damn tower in the first place..."
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batshikns · 5 months
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i keep on drawing Dazai on the left and Chuuya on the right - what kinda BEAST placement is this????
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jewishbuckley · 3 months
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“You introduced me as your boyfriend.”
Not a question – a statement, and with that statement the smile falters on Evan’s face. It’s brief, almost undetectable, but not to Tommy. Being with Evan means hearing what he’s saying, but also seeing what he’s not saying, because whatever Evan has gone through in the past makes him guarded, and that’s what Tommy sees now.
Evan is smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, his fingers have knotted together, and his shoulders are hunched – bracing for the rejection he thought he knew was coming. "I did. Was that not okay?"
“It was more than okay,” he is quick to say, voice soft as if he might spook him, and he closes the distance between them in a couple large strides. “It was great. Just… unexpected but in a good way.” He takes Evan’s hands in his, unknotting his fingers from each other to slot their fingers together instead, and he senses the tension melt from Evan’s shoulders with his words and actions.
“I’m glad,” Evan whispers, breath fanning across Tommy’s face, and this time his smile reaches his eyes.
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kingdomoftyto · 1 year
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I never used to give much thought one way or another to the whole "diagnosing characters with your own label/disability/illness/etc" but ever since I figured out my autism, like.... I get it. Damn, these characters ARE all autistic af. Good for them.
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stabknives · 2 months
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In good faith I cannot fucking put an o.livia r.odrigo song on the v/b playlist. That's gotta be an osha violation.
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yeetskeetstreet · 7 months
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Changing Perspectives
MV1 - Max Verstappen
max verstappen x reader
summary: in which it takes 7 instagrams posts from his long term partner to completely change the perspective of the reigning WDC. also known as the events of June 22.
the posts have rough dates, but in case I mess it up, it would be like scrolling down someone’s timeline, so post 1 occurs latest in terms of choroloigcal order, and 7 is the oldest post.
——————————————————————————
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When your account is public, your profile and posts can be seen by anyone, on or off instagram, even if they don’t have an instagram account.
Switch to public account?
YES/NO
instagram post 1
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y/n.jpg33: setting our forever into stone forever. the love i have for you grows stronger everyday. 🤍
tagged: maxverstappen1
comments:
maxverstappen1: wouldn’t want you anywhere else but right by my side. 🤍
danielricciardo: congratulations, guys! wishing you all the best!
landonorris: ENGAGED? CONGRATS GUYS!
christianhorner: Congratulations, Y/N and Max. Wishing you guys all the happiness offered in this new chapter.
comments on this post have been limited.
instagram post 2
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y/n.jpg33 - him 🤍
tagged: maxverstappen1
5 days ago • monaco, monaco
comments:
user: brb gonna go take a nap on a highway
user: damn.. twitter wasn’t lying
maxverstappen1: you 💛
y/n.jpg3: come home please
danielriccardo: about damn time.
instagram post 3
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y/n.jpg33 - ok, fine. you deserve your own post. you’ve come leaps and bounds, keep it up. thank you for keeping my boy company when i can’t be there. continue to carve your way into history. 🧡
tagged: landonorris, maxverstappen1
comments:
landonorris: thank you y/n, to both you and max, for everything you have done for me. 🧡
| maxverstappen1: of course, mate. anytime.
instagram post 4
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y/n.jpg33 - another to add to the collection. proud of you bub 💛
(thanks for the second landonorris)
tagged: maxverstappen1
29 March 2022 • jeddah, saudi arabia
comments:
maxverstappen1: all for you, my love. 🤍 • pinned
user: wish i had this
landonorris: soo… how many races do i have to win to get a cute post?
y/n.jpg33: win a WDC and i will
user: NOT MAX SCOLDING DANIEL LOL
danielricciardo: where’s my congratulations post?
maxverstappen1: you don’t get one. just for me. get your own
y/n.jpg33: max, don’t be mean. danny, one day, i promise :).
instagram post 5
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y/n.jpg33 - holiday time with the family
3rd January 2022 • home
instagram post 6
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y/n.jpg33 - happy birthday charles! thanks for always helping me fine my way when i’m lost at the paddock. max and i appreciate you!
tagged: charlesleclerc
16 October 2021 • monaco, monaco
comments:
charlesleclerc: thank you y/n! happy to help out whenever i can. see you and max soon.
maxverstappen1: happy birthday man!
y/n.jpg33: looking forward to it!
landonorris: HE GETS A POST? BEFORE ME? BUT BUT
y/n.jpg33: he comes to find me when i’m lost. you sent me a meme.
instagram post 7
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y/n.jpg33: you never cease to amaze me, baby. continue to prove them wrong, prove to everyone you deserve all you have worked for.
keep proving to yourself that you are enough, and worth the fight. i love you, max. 🤍
tagged: maxverstappen1
______________
my first ever F1 piece, (and my second piece ever!!) let me know what you think :)
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seiwas · 1 year
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₊˚⊹。this feeling inside of me— | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.5k
summary: you make gojo realize that this twisty-pop!-y feeling in his stomach might just be jealousy. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, mild jealousy, mentions of some of the students, lots of stifled laughs and held back grins!, mostly fluff really, gojo just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling! 
a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (this one), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (the next part), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! 
collection masterlist: conversations on love 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine <-you are here -> 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace?
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Gojo’s been… hovering lately.
He hangs around you a lot more than usual, following your footsteps around your apartment as if he didn’t just spend the night and stay in bed with you all morning. 
You’d think that’d stop at work, but nope. 
For someone who hates sitting still, Gojo’s spending an awful lot of time doing nothing while watching you rifle through folders and documents you’re meant to type away. He sits by the chair in front of his desk, feet propped up and fingers tapping on the wooden surface enough to push you just to the point of going a little crazy. 
Tap.
You could have sworn you’ve read this line already. 
Tap.
This paragraph feels entirely too familiar at this point. 
Tap—
“Satoru,” you sigh, smile half-annoyed-half-guilty as you switch your attention to the man in front of you, “do you have extra work to finish today?” 
You’re trying to ask kindly, after all, Gojo rarely chooses to sit by the paperwork he’s been assigned to do (even though he doesn’t really do any of it because it’s mostly left to you). 
He stops tapping, moving to rest his cheek on one hand as he flashes you a grin so lovesick you think it’s infectious—the corners of your lips are curling up too. 
“Just working on spending more time with you.” 
Of course he says something like this; the most powerful man in jujutsu society transformed into the ever-charming sweet-talker that being your lover brings. 
You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you chuckle—the look on your face a reflection of his. As annoyed as you are that he’s distracting you, you’re endeared. 
“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.” 
Today is his day-off after all. 
He hums, eyes set on you with cerulean sincerity, “It’s boring without you, though.” 
Strands of white fall to kiss his eyelashes and you reach forward to brush them off—his hair is getting longer now, you note. No doubt he’s going to ask you to accompany him for a haircut soon. 
His nose scrunches under the space your fingers hover over and you draw them back, “Clingy.”
—which he’s always been, but even moreso lately. You don’t know where all of it is coming from, how it’s even possible for him to be clingier than normal, but the past weeks have definitely shown you that he is more than capable. 
Gojo loves grocery runs, but only when he’s able to wander around the breakfast and candy section while you go through the long list of essentials and ingredients that need stocking up on. 
Not last week though. 
Instead of beelining straight towards his usual spot, he stayed right where you were, pushing the cart whenever you needed him to and reaching up on the top shelf for things you’d normally have to ask some other kind sir to get to. He stays close to you, body draping over yours as you line up for the checkout queue—long limbs, long torso, long everything engulfing you.
It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru, but the days after that find him following you everywhere—picking you up after pottery with Megumi (as if you can’t make it back home alone), insisting on doing a taste test on cooking lessons with Inumaki, and even joining you on that afternoon yoga class you reserved for (initially) just you and Yuuji. 
You wonder what’s causing this, why he’s acting this way lately.
“Well, I have to be or else Yuuji might really steal you away from me.” he jokes, elbows propped on the table as he rests his chin on clasped hands. 
You know that he isn’t actually threatened by Yuuji—just that he wants more attention from you, some that you give to the pink-haired boy too eagerly and so easily. 
Still, it’s weird whatever he’s feeling right now, a bundle of unrest bubbling in his stomach these days. He isn’t familiar with it, doesn’t really know what to call it, just that he knows when it hits—like knots waiting to pop at any minute.  
You stand up from your seat to make your way to him, glancing at the clock across the room; you suppose there’s no point trying to squeeze in any more work for the last 20 minutes before you’re set to clock out. 
Gojo pats his thigh, as if beckoning you to sit; he manspreads like crazy but you think it makes sense for moments when he wants to hold you like this. 
Once you position yourself on his lap, he snakes an arm around your waist as you sling yours around the back of his neck, landing a soft peck at the tip of his nose. The hand resting on your hip rubs gently. 
“Is that comment still bothering you?” you ask, scratching the short buzzed hair of his undercut. 
You catch his eyes then, sky blue with a troubled sea.
Now that he thinks about it, it probably did start with the videos. 
Gojo Satoru is a man of many accolades: the strongest, a lone child prodigy, the best teacher (self-proclaimed); at some point he was also the world’s saving grace, and you’d think after that he’d decide to lay low for a bit, have a change of pace—but no.
The man you love has also, apparently, become a social media heartthrob after garnering attention for vlogging your dates. For the memories, he had said, but of course, it’s never just that when he’s as pretty–if not prettier–than the models you see on magazines and billboard posters. The video goes viral and suddenly you’re made very aware of just how coveted he is across all generations. 
He feels the first pop! in his stomach when he finds the comment under a 10-minute video of your day out in the park. He blacked out, he’s sure, but some loser said something about how you were so hot and completely out of his league.
As if he doesn’t know that already, but it’s how confident user ManInATux69 typed that you should just leave Gojo and be with him instead. That one stung a bit; maybe even got to his head, and it’s ridiculous because it really is just some faceless person on the internet. 
But maybe that’s really how this feeling started. 
“Of course not,” he pouts, eyes avoiding yours as he looks to the side, brows furrowed.
You stifle a giggle as you wait, biting the insides of your cheek as you stare at him. A mental countdown until—
“Maybe a bit.” he mumbles after a few blinks, pout deepening as he turns to you. He always comes around to tell you the truth, without fail. 
It’s endearing, and cute, and oh so Satoru. Your Satoru.
“You wanna tell me how you’re feeling exactly?” 
If there’s one word Gojo will use to describe you, it will always be lovely. You have always been so gentle, so kind, never pushing, always asking lightly. 
You’ve sat through all his non-answers, so he thinks it’s just right, fair, that he gladly offers up his heart to you, now nestled into the palm of your hands as he lays all these feelings down, bare, intended just for you. 
He takes your free hand and places it right at his center, the space between his chest and abdomen. It’s warm as his hand dwarfs yours, forming it into a fist and twisting it into his skin. 
“Feels like a knot first,” he begins, before jerking your hand slightly as if to emulate a pop!, “then it pops.” 
And you think, that for all he sees and knows, it’s ironic that he can describe a feeling so vividly yet not know what it’s called—what it could possibly mean or be. 
“Do you think you’re jealous, Satoru?” you ask, smiling, fighting back a giggle (again), tone teasing. 
Hm, he thinks, is that what this is? 
Jealousy? 
He stares at you, lips parted slightly as you watch it register to him slowly. 
“Would explain why you’ve been hovering,” you chuckle, stroking small circles with your thumb. 
“I have not been hovering.” he snaps out of it, almost offended. 
You give him a look, eyebrow raised and mouth set in a smirk as if to say: really?
He relents, taking your hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Maybe a little.” 
Kisses are dotted along your knuckles, his eyes closed as if to ground him. You’ve known Gojo for so long that you can tell when he’s still figuring out how to say whatever it is he wants to—and your heart warms at the fact that this side to him is one he only entrusts to you. 
“There’s no competition, you know,” you whisper, the sky opening back to you, “I love you.” 
Your words are weighted, meant for him to hold and keep in the parts of him that doubt what he means to you. And it might sound a bit silly, to be this affected over a comment from some nobody, but you don’t want to leave any room for uncertainty—for your inaction to once again feed into his insecurity. 
He hums, soft vibrations flowing through his lips still pressed against your hand. Red is starting to bloom across his cheeks to his nose, and he mumbles, “Just want to be sure I’m good to you.”
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a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the second part will be a bit darker, more serious, but will discuss more of where the feelings stem from in the first place! 
thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!! 
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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ckret2 · 28 days
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Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?
Sure, here's the big one.
I've decided to resolve the "if he's the baby then Mabel & Dipper are the product of two generations of 15-year-old parents; if he's older than Stan & Ford and maybe already out of the house then where is he and who's the baby?" problem the most ridiculous way possible:
He IS the baby, but he grew 20 years in 10 years.
I don't mean he's a 10-year-old that looks 20, i mean that for every year he existed, he experienced two years of life. Like at the start of September he entered 1st grade and at the end of next May he exited 2nd grade, and nobody knows how, he didn't jump up a grade during winter break or something, everyone around him clearly remembers him going through nine months of school and then summer break and then another nine months of school, his first and second grade teachers both remember teaching him for a whole school year, but it happened within one year.
Nobody else is affected; they all remember experiencing two years of life with Shermie, but they didn't age two years too. Just him. No one can explain it. It's the darnedest thing.
"But how did this happen." Time magic. "What caused it?" Magic. "Did he experience every year twice?" No just once; the year was twice as long for him. "Then how did he experience two school years instead of one double length school year?" Magic. "How does that even work???" I'm not an expert on time magic.
Caryn told Ford about it, but he was busy with more PhD programs than any human should ever endure and assumed it was some kind of hyperbolic lie to communicate how fast it feels like Shermie's growing, so she's going "this sounds like one of your strange anomalous things you study, isn't this one of those things you study?" and he's like "uh huh that's great mom."
Stan, of course, didn't hear any of this, so the first he learns of it is during a reluctant family reunion soon after he takes over Ford's life and Caryn's like "and over there's your brother Shermie and his wife, I don't know if you've seen him since your master's degree, try to talk to them won't you?" and Stan goes "Shermie?? Isn't he supposed to be twelve, why's he look like a MAN? Whaddaya mean wife??? Is she pregnant????" and Caryn went "😏 I KNEW you were never listening on the phone."
Shermie gradually stopped experiencing life on double time and slowed down to age normally around his mid twenties (well, mid twenties from his perspective; around 13 according to his birth certificate). Filbrick and Caryn sort of agreed that getting married must have helped him "settle down" and they don't really question it.
Ford gets to learn this several hours after he gets home when he finally gets a break long enough to put two and two together and goes "wait, SHERMIE'S grandkids?? But he's barely in his forties, how does he have 12-year-old grandkids" and Stan tells him and Ford goes "You mean Mom was telling the truth?!"
That fall while Shermie's yelling "WHADDAYA MEAN YOU SWITCHED PLACES AND FELL INTO A SPACE PORTAL" Ford's yelling back "CAN I CARBON DATE YOUR FACE"
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matryosika · 1 year
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Recording Sessions
Pairing — 3racha and Reader
Wordcount — 3,485 words
Genre — Smut
Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.
Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍
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“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”
The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 
But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.
“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”
“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.
“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.
“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 
“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.
“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.
“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.
There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.
Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 
“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 
The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.
“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 
“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 
Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 
“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.
“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”
You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 
“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.
It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.
“What exactly are you proposing?”
“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”
“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.
“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.
“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.
Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.
“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.
“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”
Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.
“Yeah, okay”. 
Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?
He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.
“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 
“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 
“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 
“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.
“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 
The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 
“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.
“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 
“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.
“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 
You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 
You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.
“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 
Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.
“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.
“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 
“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.
“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 
“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 
“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”
You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.
In the meantime, Chan just watches. 
You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.
“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 
You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.
The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.
“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 
“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.
It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.
Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.
 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.
“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.
“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.
“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”
“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 
“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”
You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.
It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.
When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 
And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.
“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.
He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.
Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.
“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.
“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.
“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 
“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 
“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.
“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 
Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 
“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 
You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.
“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.
You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 
“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”
“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.
“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.
And a well deserved one.
“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.
“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 
“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 
It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 
The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 
“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”
Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 
“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 
You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.
“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 
“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 
“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.
You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 
2K notes · View notes
gangplanksorenji · 8 months
Text
Kinknuary Day 17: Brat Taming 
Pairing: Choi Yena x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,832
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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You can’t always get what she wants and she can’t always get what she needs—these two clauses never contradict as it's different in each way yet aimed towards the same intent: fulfillment.
Choi Yena is a girl you’d watch yourself into, as she’s the living definition of a brat, in your own words. Not really a specific brat, but she really tends to be selfish all of the time, and that isn’t really ideal considering how you’re always making her change but always ends up defeated and your advances deemed to be useless against her.
She has an iron wall that’s tough to break, but under specific circumstances, there’s always the Achilles’ heel to be used against it.
“Well, this sucks…” Yena chides boredom, sighing deeply as she’s deeply restive within the supposedly delicious food in front of the table and with her discontented countenance, you advance to confront her as you’re confused on why she’s acting like this.
“Don’t like the food, princess?”
“Nu-uh. It’s bland and soggy—look!” Yena grabs a minuscule sample of spaghetti with her fork, presenting how incredibly unacceptable it is on her own perspective as she voices out her frustration with it, and you, absolutely stunned with her complaints as you don’t see anything wrong with the food presented.
“Oh yeah, I forgot—should’ve treated you to eat some gold, huh?” You batted out a joke towards her, in which she took it a little seriously, punching your shoulder playfully as her pouts emanated such strong channels of chagrin, not satisfied with the meal she’s been supposedly enjoying.
“Yah! I’m not like that, but I’d like to eat something way better than this…”
Of course, she’ll be luring you into another set of her tricks, opting for you to fall down of her trap but with two years and a half of being with her, you knew exactly what she’s up to for you to fulfill her wants. You read her mind like a book but of course, you’ll choose to play along with her game to bait her and let her be the victim of her own medicine.
“Like what?” You feign such fake innocence, in which Yena takes as an opportunity to voice out her naughty desires and just like that, she stepped into your trap.
“Like daddy’s—” You tighten the grip of her wrists under the table, making her wince in pain as you stop her from her advances of such dirty talk in public.
“You know what Yena, just eat your goddamn food and we’ll get out of here, okay?” You grew impatient with her own antics, making her opt to the possible endgame before the anticipated climax soon.
“But I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” Yena whimpered as she didn't like the words that came out of your mouth and knowing that you’re setting her up to further make her miserable, she stepped up and voiced out her frustrations towards you and you’re not absolutely having it. “I won’t bother finishing these—”
“Alright then, Yena…” You averted your attention onto finishing the food on your plate as your demeanor became stern and commanding and Yena’s face suddenly feigned fear and anxiety, not wanting what may happen next. “It’s just fair to not reward my princess something if she didn’t finish her food.”
Yes, you read her like a goddamn book and guess what, it’s working more than well. Knowing how insatiable you are for her that can’t bear to not be rewarded with your load for a day says a lot, and she’s willing to do everything just to get that desired prize of hers that you would love to use as an advantage against her—Yena’s kryptonite that will flick a switch inside her, making her reevaluate her own selfish decisions.
“Okay then, daddy…”
Well, if she’s willing to provoke the sleeping beast inside you, then you’ll let her, because at the end of the day, you know that she’ll regret it and will absolutely be damned to be punished and used, like the slutty brat she always became, all for you.
---
Royalties and class, two things that exude Yena as every movement of hers is either sophisticated, intense disgust or her own primal needs taking over her. Limited choices yet it doesn’t matter, because it will revolved around that and it will never change—maybe when you’ve fucked something out of her, then maybe the stars will re-align but chances would be slim to none.
There’s no fucking chance in this planet she’ll be able to make others bear her bitchy, bratty attitude and you are the only worthy to handle her as you know exactly how to make her be yours and to tame that living beast inside her, even if it means to do the nastiest things to her.
Well, that won’t be the case for now but knowing how she’s luring you into a challenge, really makes everything inside you be in that state of fury as her words captivate you and turn you on, and it’s damn dangerous to be this riled while driving on a high-speed highway.
Guess the feelings are mutual between the both of you; she can pick the locks inside you as much as you can with hers, and it’s not even close to exert much effort.
“Yena, you know we can’t—not here, princess, alright?” You peacefully pointed out how risky and not suitable for you to really do this, let alone doing such a sinful act on a highway even though it’s just the both of you that will be blessed by the sight.
Not really surprised about her responsive actions of your denial, and you’d love to see that knowing how her frustration and the needy sounds she makes sends you into a state of delight. “Come on, daddy! You’re no fun!”
Yena pouts as she faces you, frustrated with your own selfish acts of your definition of fun as she crosses her arms right after, letting you know how she seriously wants this.
“If you want us to crash because of your selfish needs to blow my dick, then sure, Yena.” With your encouraging words with sarcasm laced on it, Yena faced you with a glare as you can see it evident on your peripherals. As much as you don’t want to, you might just give it a shot and to maybe even risk your life in terms of a pleasurable service and to literally just make Yena shut up with your own length inside her bratty mouth.
“You’re just playing with me, daddy—I know you—”
“Do you want to blow my dick or not? ‘Cause I’m getting pretty impatient, Yena.” You stated, your tone demanding and laced with subtle rage as you continue to drive, unfazed with her own presence that will soon draw onto your own treasured prize and given the green light, she acted up immediately and didn’t waste any of your time. Drawing her attention towards your clothed nether region, her hands then hastily finds its way onto the button of your pants while carefully not hitting anything, and with her subtle touch makes you lose a hint of focus yet you fight it as the last thing you would want to see is crashing on a highway. Carefully unbuttoning your pants and bringing them onto your knees, her eyes lit up in excitement as she can see your member getting erected and that’s all because of her.
“Ooh, getting turned on I see, hm, daddy?” Yena delightfully mocks you as steam comes out of your nose, a bit annoyed with her current antics as there’s no in any planet you would deny how it’s not her fault that you’re getting this hard.
“Then do something about it and don’t kill us, Yena.” She then resumes her advances of undressing your final clothed defense, finally freeing your throbbing length from its prison and she is met with your member, her eyes now lit in awe yet a click of your tongue makes her stop. “Five minutes only.”
Yena whimpers as she looks at you deeply with her signature duck pout, making you rethink your decision as she persuades you with all her might. “Please, can it be longer, daddy? Please, please?”
Even if she bats out her hundred of pleas you will just ignore it as a brat doesn't deserve such reward—she should be grateful instead of complaining but you know that girls like her will be rewarded truly if they earned it, and this is probably just one of the few tests you have in plan.
Guess, you’ll be just the judge while your mind’s focused on driving straight for the both of you to not crash and god, you’re really fighting for it.
Maybe you’ll be the one who’s going to be tested as it’s all deteriorating once she laid her soft lips onto the head of your shaft, as you give in the pleasure yet focus on the highway.
Five minutes—five goddamn minutes.
---
“Kneel down, princess.”
“Yes, daddy…” Yena immediately obliged your command as her face anticipates what you may have in store, her eyes glistening with need and lust that no one can define, maybe not even herself can.
Of course, she won’t be leaving your place without a load dumped inside her or painted on her because of how addicted she is to you and how she’s always a victim of indulging towards her primal desires the second you’re within the vicinity of her sight.
She’s crazy about you as much as you are towards her but Yena’s just on a whole new level—way above the charts of your expectations and it’s not really surprising at this point.
In most terms, she’s always been a pain in the ass the deal with, even with your entire length plunged inside her, she can’t seem to really change her bratty demeanor, like it’s glued onto her by default and it’s bittersweet—bitter in annoyance and sweet because you love taming her, getting the absolute value of each others’ needs.
Even without serving her desired prize on her speedway blowjob earlier, her eyes are still refulgent with anticipation and eagerness—not to mention how she complains so much when her time is up and without a load deep down her throat, completely opposing her current needs for you.
“You better finish what you’ve started earlier alright, princess?” You relax onto the cold, marble wall as Yena nods eagerly, and then advance her way onto your fully-erect length as she eyes it like her favorite meal and with a mischievous smirk planted onto her mouth and her evil eyes, you know exactly how she’ll start this off. You moaned almost inaudibly once her soft, plump lips became in contact with your swollen head and right from the start, her masterclass is absolutely at its peak finest.
Her mouth is one of your treasure features of her, not just by the fact that you could embrace yourself to initiate such a torrid kiss with her but it’s just the fact on how soft they are that it’s just sculpted perfectly to service gratification to you, not even including her sinful gags and the vacuum-like suction that makes up the elements of a mind-boggling blowjob that she always excels at.
Speaking of oral talents, she has it all, and maybe even multiple.
“Keep doing that, princess… Keep t-that mouth all the way in.” Even if it spirals out of control, you’ll be cursed to encourage her ultimately as she takes your whole length slowly, ensuing a leisure bobbing that aims to build up the pleasure and your own libido. 
She didn’t gag, not yet, as she continues to reach new depths, making herself accustomed to your whole length and the inevitable snaps, gagging prematurely as she tried to keep it in without pulling out but was not deemed successful, coughing a little right after her former struggles.
She wouldn’t let herself disappoint you as she grabbed your already saliva-sheathed cock as fast as she could and directed it inside her mouth, blowing you rapidly as her thrusts in quick succession never fails to set yourself on a blissful trance. Her hands find themselves onto the porcelain skin of your thighs, caressing it to voice out how comfortable she is and the other, fondling your sensitive balls in order for better stimulation and better quality of pleasure. Simultaneous gags, drool seeping out of her mouth, tears running down her cheek and her rapid pace lives up tot eh epitome of a blowjob—and she’s cursed to be great at this.cheek and the cherry on top, her rapid pace that adds up to the filthiness of a sinful image she’s been into and god, if you could just take a picture of this, let along record this as a video, you’ll absolutely do it but getting occupied by Yena’s soft lips and tight throat would be just better than anything that can bother you in this world, and you leave it as it is.
Her head frantically bobs like she’s set to hypnotize you as her techniques really live up to her title, every movement she does to stimulate you is making you feel way better than the previous, and it’s really working more than well. She constantly slurps as more drool seeps out of her hungry mouth, also a way to voice out her utter satisfaction with being rewarded with an insatiable candy that she can’t get enough of. Because of her great work between your legs, you dive into the inevitable bliss as your hands find their way to her vibrantly pink locks, grabbing a fistful of it to form a makeshift ponytail in order for you to have such strong leverage to guide her and fight for the utmost gratification.
Of course, she knows what you’ll end up into once she felt your hands on the back of her constantly bobbing head: she could only anticipate it as you hips will gradually thrust into her suffocatingly tight throat, craving for more to the point that you’ll give in and fuck her face rapidly.
She knows you and reads you like a book—again, feelings are mutual, as well as your needs towards each other.
There’s no point in not giving in to using her mouth like a fleshlight, because it’s literally what she’s built for: to take the entirety of your length to the point of no-return and absolutely giving everything you want—what your hips can muster.
“I might need to fuck that bratty mouth of yours princess, you wouldn’t mind it, won’t you?” Your sinister tone makes her apprehensive yet nonetheless, she trusts you with all her might—and you won’t dare to break that—as she nods eagerly, her eyes begging for the absence of your mercy in order to use her mouth with what might you can as she wants it badly. 
“Oh, so you want it this badly, huh?” With her slow bobs, you groan with the pleasure she’s giving yet time wouldn’t be wasted as you grip her hair and make her look up at you, your tone now laced with the utter need of voicing out her primal desires. “Then say how badly you want this, princess”
With more greedy bobs onto your rock-hard shaft, she immediately pulls out as so, and let her lips release such wanton profanities that absolutely will arouse the living beast inside of you. “I w-want you to ram on m-my slutty throat, daddy—”
“How hard, princess?” It was a sudden response, aiming to mutter up an answer escaping her lips on her possible wants of your treatment towards hers.
“Want you t-to fuck my throat like h-how I deserve it…” She trembles between divisible of her own lustful words, the utter nervousness and adrenaline kicking in as she continues stating her needs. “Want t-to feel daddy’s c-cock ramming on my t-throat because of how m-much of a slut I am.”
Good thing she knows what she is and what she came to, at this moment. Given on how sincere she is in every word she says as her tone really pleads you to service her throat, states on how she badly desires her close-to-an-ultimate prize (punishment on you own perspective) and without wasting any second, you opted to give her what she wants and to full indulge to your own carnal desires.
“Okay, princess, hands behind your back—” You command her as you grow impatient with her lustful talks, wanting to make her struggle in the best way possible—also, you would not want to hurt her in the process—and to build up the rising climax of her anticipation. “—and your head up.” Of course, your hands aren’t idle enough to just appreciate the beauty of her waiting to be ruined, as you hands force its way onto the back of her head again yet this time, you grip onto her semi-disheveled pigtails, wanting to use them as handlebars and a leverage on what you're about to do to her—maybe she purposely tied her hair this way, knowing that she’ll maybe get her mouth fucked half open.
If this is what she wants, then she’ll get it but you should let her know why this all started: it’s all because of aiming to tame her properly and if your words can’t do it, then sure, maybe your cock will do the talking.
You don’t even need to command Yena to open her mouth as she does it involuntarily, begging you for more until it was all unable to beared and contained, letting everything but indulged within and you can just see your whole length being submerged into the depths of her mouth, taking more and fully encouraging you to even go deeper. The incredible suction of her cheeks never fails to bewilder you, let alone diving deeper as every inch of her walls results in marvelous groans of pleasure because of the warmth and the right tightness of it. You gave Yena’s mouth few thrusts to get herself used on your whole length again—in a better view, she doesn’t really need that since she’s sucking and getting her mouth used by you very often that it’s started to molded onto the shape of your cock—wanting her to feel every inch of it brushing down her throat as she gags when it hits the back of her throat. She fights it with all her might this time, and when you notice her gag reflex calming down, now’s the time to use the pliant princess’s heavenly throat like how she deserves it.
How does she deserve it? Well, it’s only a matter of time for her to find out.
With now a better feeling from both parties, your hips now ensued such a breakneck pace, catching her off-guard. Yena almost breaks herself free but knowing that if she does, she will be in big trouble and be prone to a worse punishment in which she wouldn’t want to. With that in mind, she fights herself onto your rapid usage of her whole throat as drool inevitably seeps out of her mouth, coating everything in its vicinity with her saliva that further adds to the lubrication with your ruthless advances. You tighten the grip on her hair, causing to add more mess to her already disheveled locks as you continuously rammed her throat like you want to prove something—you don’t need to prove anything but rather, prove herself worthy of your mercy.
“Is this what you fucking wanted, Yena? Your f-face to be fucked like a-an animal?” It’s a rhetorical question but an evident nod ensued right after, noticing it even with your rapid pace trying to open up Yena’s throat as you could find yourself getting harsher with one goal in mind: to tame her and possibly, fuck that brattiness out of her brat mouth.
You didn’t just mindfully thrust your hips like you’re in autopilot, but rather set series of forceful deepthroats, filling every inch of her slutty throat up to the brim, balls-deep and then resuming back onto thrusting—it repeats like a cycle, and that’s part of the plan: foreplay, to be build the suspense and then suddenly go berserk. You playfully tug her hair in order to force her down and then taking your entire length with thrusts ensued on a quick succession, each oscillation hits her saliva-sheathed chin with your own balls as the audible sounds of such skin clapping is arousing you even further.
“Fuck—this bratty throat feels good—can’t wait to even feel more of you, princess—fuck!” You continue to give her ruthless thrusts, breaking the velocity barrier your hips can muster as you pull out of her mouth and not surprisingly, she gasps for heavy breaths and multiple coughs because of your harshness down her throat.
“G-God, daddy—t-that was s-so good—hah, y-you’re going t-to make my throat sore…” Yena muttered between catching breaths and a broken voice, truly making you admire the masterclass you’ve done that she surely loved.
“Of course—need this fucking throat to teach a lesson.”
“A l-lesson? Am I the n-naughtiest student you’ve ever seen, d-daddy?” Yena seduces you with her vixen capabilities and her honey-laced words dripping with lust, and it forces you to sully her again, specifically her mouth.
“You know the answer to that, princess.” Yena looks up with you with a smirk, her mischievous plan starting to come together as she bites her lips and moaned uncontrollably, your hands finding its way on caressing her perky yet voluptuous mounds as you aimed to weaken her until she’s about to be fully submissive. With her hands still on her back, she can’t help herself to fight the pleasure as she can only just whimper and close her eyes, letting the serotonin course down her veins as every second that passes is fully treasured by the bratty princess in front of you.
“I would have used your throat more harshly but bad brats like you don’t deserve to swallow my cum—not even a single ounce of it.” Your hands then palmed her cheek as your fingers caressed it right after, admiring the sullied countenance of Yena’s face that deserves to be at the hall of fame on how it perfectly depicts the oxymoron, “the ruined goddess”.
“Brats need to be punished for being such a bitch and if my words can’t tame you—” Your suspenseful tone is intimidating her, sending chills down her spine as every word you say is laced with sincerity and full on lust. Her mouth shivers when she feels your hand teasing her cheek with your throbbing length, and it’s just becoming better for now considering how you’re building up such a stupendous anticipation that anyone can hook onto, even the both of you. “—then maybe my cock will.” 
You slap your length onto her cheek, making her yelp a little as you command her to stand up, her immediately obliging to your imperative advances, even with a visible struggle because of her lack of balance. 
“Sit here and wait for me, okay? I’ll get something and don’t you dare move away from this position.” You glared at her as she nodded slowly, her mouth curling up onto a smile as her eyes glistened with her own desires, only thinking further of what you may have in store for her.
---
“Wear it, Yena.”
“But don’t I look silly, daddy?”
“Just fucking wear it—it’ll be good on you…” You grow impatient with her complaints as she does what she’s requested to do, as she wears the belt-like leather collar around her neck, her hands trembling probably from her nervousness and there’s nothing to worry about it, knowing it’ll fade faster than the speed of light. With her collar now around her neck, you commanded her to go on all her fours on the bed and again, she quickly obliged, not wanting you to wait any further. Greed consumes over you, finding its way to succumb onto your lustful needs as you line your swollen head within the emanating heat of her lower lips as she moans in every tease you do, fueling up each others’ libido. 
As much as you want to tease the living brat out of her, your aim is to fuck it out of her and you’ll do exactly what you need to.
Not wasting any second, the climax of the show starts as you penetrate her with your whole length and in response, she screams in delight because of how big you are inside her, feeling that you may destroy her guts. You easily fill her up to the hilt, burying your entire shaft inside her and then withdrawing to slam back in hard, making her cry for your mercy and to further fuck her like an animal.
The comeuppance starts, and you’re willing to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget—you may have done this to her a lot of times but this time, it would hit differently and you would end this session making her know who you really are to mess with.
Grateful to the helping aid of lubrication with her juices coursing down, and around your shaft, you start off with a relentless pace and don't give her time to get used to your length, wanting to make her feel your wrath and how she deserves to be treated. She further moans in every withdrawal you do as the collar helps for a better leverage onto ramming into her tight core repeatedly, and as the cherry on top, you like the muffled sounds of her chokes every time you pull the chain of the collar, you could hear her broken moans and probably, even asphyxiating her—one of her kinks is you choking her, and you’re glad to be innovative and creative on fulfilling that and knowing this, Yena appreciates this truly as she voices out to even ruin her further.
“D-Daddy—r-ruin my slu—slut pussy! I d-deserve t—to be treated l-like this—oh gosh—holy fuck!!”
You continuously do as so, and with her repeated pleas, you grew annoyed with her ebullient noises and stated your frustrations towards her. “Just s-shut the fuck up and take my cock well, princess!”
With your further attempts of silencing her with your ramming clashes against her tight pussy, you vent out your frustrations and channel everything onto your thrusts, causing her to repeatedly plead and moan because of your aggressive actions. She wanted this deserves this, so she just deserves to be fucked like a true animal. Her arms grew weaker, unable to support her upper frame due to the constant overloading of pleasure she’s been feeling and wanting to bury her head with her advances, you won’t let a single trick up her sleeve be deemed successful against you as you pulled the collar towards you, making her compose such broken melodies that reverberated around the room, and around your ears.
You can hear her cries in every thrust you do, as it’s all starting to come to the point where she’ll fully succumb to her needs and submissiveness, which is your goal before this steamy session ends. It wasn't long before you gave her round, bubble buttcheeks the hardest spanks it deserves as it became frequent all of a sudden, making her yelp and cry because of your harsh actions against her constantly-rammed backside. With now your hands fully occupied to treat her like the slut she is and like the brat she deserves, Yena can’t help but just think of your cock ravaging her tight, little cunt rapidly as it clouds her, same repeated, wanton moans are the response of your actions and knowing she wouldn’t last long at this time and with her cunt constantly clenching, you double the efforts on fucking her onto oblivion as the lustful drive in you takes over. 
“You’re about to cum, right, Yena?”
She mutters a stuttered “yes” as she nods frantically before resuming her constant moans of pleasure. “But what if I don’t want my princess to cum? Will she not cum for her daddy or will she be punished for good? Because—” You let go of the tight grip on the chains of the leather collar as you inch closely onto her ear and whispered with venom, “—if you didn’t follow me, there will be serious consequences and you won’t like that, won’t you, Yena?”
Yena’s apologetic cries can be heard laced in her agreement, scared that she may provoke you that will make her needs be deprived. “I w-will do anything f-for you, daddy but p-please—-ahh!”
You kiss her nape, and then her neck, showing your affection towards her as you worship the musky scent of her body emanating sweat, perfume and sex as you respond, “Please what, princess?”
It took seconds for Yena to respond, the gratification becoming too much to handle as she composes herself, and pleads for you. “P-Please let me cum, daddy…”
A side of you is fainthearted: wanting to not make herself be lost and want her to engage on her high as much as possible but she needs to be punished, and your conclusion with that? To fully ruin her.
Thanks to the constant lapping of her juices, it didn’t became a struggle to lubricate her puckered hole as you insert your thumb in it, opting to stimulate her further as you continued to fuck her mercilessly. It wouldn’t take long before she reaches her high with of the kinky stuff and the most stimulating advances being done all in one session as she lets out whimpers, and knowing that her high is near and you know it’ll blast like a volcano, you wouldn’t put her to torture as lean in again to her ear and then whispering again, “Then cum on my cock, princess—let it all out.”
Giving her the final thrusts with her collar as a leverage onto a greater quality of such mindless abomination of fucking, she clenched tightly as you groan because of it and within a second, she’s in her own blissful trance, moaning out your name as she voices out her ecstasy.
“D-Don’t s-stop fucking me, d-daddy—oh fuck—I’m c-cumming so h-hard—fuck!!”
As requested by her, you continue ramming her pussy as she climaxes beautifully, voicing out series of ecstatic moans as she forms a rivulet around your shaft, dripping it all over her thighs, your balls and some even on the bed sheets which soon will be changed because of how filthy and messy it would be after the both of you are done. You continue oscillating at such an incredible pace that you didn’t mind making her recover on her high, making her yell in pleasure and utmost sensitivity. With a ruthless pace, of course, you didn’t ignore the chains as you pulled
“Are y-you close, daddy? Please c-cum inside m-me—fuck, p-please, daddy—ahh—mmfh-ahh!”
“Don’t tell me what to do, slut!” Of course, after her ephemeral orgasm, you resume onto your harshness, spanking and fondling her mounds as you draw circles down her taut buds, making her whimper because of the pleasure and sensitivity. You grew frustrated and enough of her bratty actions of eternal need as you choke her a little with the collar, further ramming into her tight cunt repeatedly as her thighs now quiver, her limbs growing weaker and letting herself succumb onto your own spell, hypnotizing her with the rapid sounds of bodies clashing together that adds up to the sea of sinful sounds that’s been kept inside this puny room right from the start.
Now chasing your own orgasm and to further commit onto fucking that living brat out of her body, you gave in to your primal desires, fucking each other like animals as within a few thrusts or seconds from now, it won’t be long until you meet yourself onto the promised land—in the possibly eternal state of bliss.
Now, having enough of the collar, you pull her hair as you draw yourself closer to your own orgasm, wanting to make sure that you’ll have one hell of a climax. You repeatedly spank her to further arouse yourself onto the hypnotizing jiggles of that porcelain flesh, making you indulge and draw yourself onto the red and soon enough, it wouldn’t be that long to meet it.
“I’m going to fucking c-cum in this tight, slutty, bratty pussy, alright, princess? Be sure to take it all because fuck—t-this pussy is literally the best!”
“Yes, da—daddy! Please c-cum in me—finally, p-please—ahh—mmfhh!” You continue your rapid thrusts as your fingers coursed its way onto her mouth, making her suck it as she wantonly savors your fingers like it’s your beloved shaft, sensually licking every inch clean as you buried your whole length in her, unable to pull back but just give in.
Series of thick shots flooded her velvety walls, causing her to moan on your fingers as she can feel the warmth of your semen coating each inch of her flesh white and god, she’s also in a state of bliss on how well she is filled by you. She continues sucking and you continue depositing, even thrusting slowly to extend your orgasm further and as it dies down, you leisurely pulled out—and of course, Yena whimpered because she feels empty without your whole length ravaging inside her—of the tightness of her core, a little exhausted because of your harsh work against her sopping wet cunt and what an incredible sight it bestowed you: her freshly-fucked folds full of your cum, some of it even leaking out of her due to the stupendous amount of volume deposited in it.
Guess her highfalutin came down on a sullied conclusion; it was an incredible display of a steamy session, much likely to be cherished as the once boisterous, sex-filled room has now toned down onto tranquil and silence—mostly just heavy breaths can be heard but it is close on silence.
Yena falls limp onto the bed, her back rests as her lips tremble within her voice, “Y-you c-came so much, daddy—i-it’s so thick a-and warm—hah…”
“Now, are you satisfied, princess?”
“More than t-that, daddy…” Yena voices out her utter satisfaction as her needs are now fulfilled by you and right after, she beams a bright smile onto you which makes you faintly grin in response due to her contagious happiness. 
“Also, I’m s-sorry about acting like that earlier, daddy…” You know her apologies aren’t sincere but at the same time, they are—it’s not sincere in a way that she’ll act like a spoiled brat again someday, but now, you’re glad that you’ve fucked your way to teach her a lesson—living the new, ephemeral disposition of hers that’s down-to-earth. You would treasure this truly, but Yena, on the other hand, isn’t in the same shoes with you.
“I want some more, daddy—we can experiment on anything we want, tonight because—” Yena’s hands averted onto your jaw, making you face her as she continues, “—I’m all yours, daddy.”
Seems like she needed more than what you’ve given her and with that, you’re giving her anything to the point of no-return.
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hellodropbear · 3 months
Text
like she used to (V)
alexia putellas x sister
chapter I, II, III, IV
from alexia's perspective tonight :)
~~~~~~
My younger sister hates me. 
I don't know why, I don't even know when it happened. 
But I know that my younger sister hates me, and I have absolutely no idea what to do about it. 
I have known there was something wrong since she started skipping our dinners on Thursdays, claiming to have Barcelona B training until late. 
I knew they finished up an hour before dinner started. 
Alba says that I spent to much time away from her, that I didn't focus on her enough. 
Mami says that she is growing up and simply becoming less reliant on her older sisters. 
But neither of those explanations seem to make sense, because my younger sister is not the girl that I once knew any more. 
The girl who would sleep in my bed every night, who wiped my tears when I cried and put a smile on my face when all I wanted to do was bury my face into my pillow and scream about how unfair the world was. 
Because she's Elena and she's happy, she always has been.
But Elena does not seem happy anymore. And I don't know when it changed, but I hate myself for not being there to make her smile like she did for me so many times when we were younger. I hate myself for not being there to put a smile back on her face as soon as it fell off. 
She lives with bags under her eyes, her usually olive skin turned pale, her eyes constantly downcast and her eyebrows set in a solemn line. 
She used to tell me everything, but then I blinked and my baby sister's name was on my team sheet and I didn't even know she had been training with the first team. 
Mami said that she was sleeping, that she didn't want to talk about it now. Mapi told me the next day that she found her 45 minutes away from home, sitting in the park by her house. 
I should have been there more, I should have gone to her games. I know that, everyone knows that. But I broke up with Jenni, who had been my rock for as long as I could remember. I broke up with Jenni and she moved to Mexico, leaving me alone for the first time, in an apartment full of memories that would swallow me every time I entered.
I felt alone, every fibre of my being felt alone. I was isolated and my world was crumbling around me. And I didn't know who to turn to, I didn't know where I could find support. 
I didn't know that Elena was sat at home in bed, staring at her phone and waiting for me to call her, to text her. 
I used to call her every night, but slowly, those phone calls died out. Elena would all asleep with her phone in her lap. Until she gave up. Until she switched her phone off as soon as she reached her bedroom in the evenings. 
Back when Papi died, I relied probably a bit too much on my little sister to get me through it. Mami always said it was the wrong thing so I didn't want to make that mistake again. I avoided Elena, not wanting her to realise how weak I really am. She always said she admired me for being strong, powerful. I was her inspiration, her hero. 
I didn't want to ruin that image she had of me by crying on Mami's couch, unable to be alone after something as superficial as a breakup. 
But I think I ruined that image in other ways. 
I stopped going to her games. 
I stopped holding her as she fell asleep in my lap on a Thursday evening, instead watching her move further and further away from me on the sofa, until she wasn't there at all. 
I stopped being there for her, helping her with her homework, picking her up from training, taking her out for ice cream. 
I stopped being her sister, and I don't think I will ever forgive myself. 
I don't think she will ever forgive me either. 
And to make everything worse, I only thought about it properly when Olga brought it up a few weeks ago. 
"Why haven't I met your younger sister yet? There are so many photos of her here, but I have never even spoken to her."
It was then that everything came crashing down, reality hitting me like a truck, driving 100 kilometres an hour along the highway. 
Olga couldn't understand why I was suddenly sobbing into her arms, my words more incoherent than my thoughts. But she held me close and told me one thing. 
"If there is something wrong with your little sister, you need to fix it."
Obviously she was right, she didn't need to tell me that. 
I felt an enormous surge of guilt explode inside of me, and for once Olga's arms didn't do anything to help me. I don't deserve her comfort, I don't deserve to feel good when I have left my baby sister behind. 
Because she is everything to me but I haven't spoken to her in two years. 
I don't know how I let it go this far.
~~~~~~
Mapi's voice is scratchy and quiet over the phone, and I could tell something is wrong. She wouldn't tell me what. 
"Elena is here with me. I texted Eli but she didn't reply but I needed to tell someone that she is safe and asleep in my spare room. We will take her to the game in the morning."
She didn't say much else, other than that she found my sister at the park after she had taken the bus from home. 
But, the look that she gave me at the game the next day told me everything I need to know. 
It wasn't angry, really, she just looked confused and hurt. She looked upset as well and I knew exactly what it was about. Because Elena has always loved Mapi, and Mapi has always treated Elena like a little sister. 
Elena would have told Mapi something, and even though I don't know what it was, I know it would have been bad enough to make Mapi overthink everything, to realise how awful I have been over the past few years. 
I was anxious through the whole game, separated from my best friend by Frido and Jana, trying my best to ignore the looks that Mapi kept sending me. 
The looks that were filled with such emotion that I couldn't handle. Emotions that were hard to read because they were filled with so much meaning. 
I am too much of a coward to face her and my consequences, I realise, so I ignore it for as long as I can. 
But I knew I could not avoid everything when Mami pulled me to the side after the rest of the girls had gone back into the changing rooms, after Alba had gone to the bathroom. 
"What are you doing?" 
She was furious, and for good reason. But I stay silent, still too scared, too guilty about everything I had done. The only thing on my mind was  trying to figure out how I could ever fix this. 
"Alexia Putellas! Answer me! What are you doing?" 
Her face was almost red, but if I looked hard enough I would have been able to see the tears that dried up in her eyes, never given the chance to slip down her face. 
"What do you mean, Mami?" 
She rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed loudly. 
"Your baby sister is 15 years old and without any help from you, her older sister, was sitting on the bench for your team. The best team in Europe. She is 15, Alexia! This is such a huge achievement and all she wants is a hug from you, for you to tell her you are proud of her, that you love her. But no. Nothing. Nothing at all from the great Alexia Putellas who cares about nothing but her career!" 
Mami's words are a slap in the face, really. Thinking back to them, however, they are the truth. The terrible, painful, horrendous truth. 
Not that I don't care about anything but my career, of course, but about how I haven't done anything to help Elena get to where she is. 
I pause before responding, debating internally how I should respond. 
I could respond with fire, but that would just make Mami even more furious.
So I don't. 
"I know she is, Mami! That is why I am about to go do exactly that. I am so, so proud of her but I can't find the words to tell her just how proud I am."
She looks at me for a moment, as if assessing the validity of my statement. 
"We are going out to dinner tonight, Alexia. You are coming with us and we are celebrating Elena. Not you, Elena."
I nod, telling her that I will go get Elena and meet her and Alba outside. 
Except that doesn't happen, because I see Elena in the changing rooms, but she doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. 
I see the 15 year old girl laughing and interacting with my team, holding Aitana close and whispering in her ear. 
But honestly, the whole scene flipped my insides out. I am not focused on Olga as she chats to me, as she notices how distant I am from reality, moving towards Mapi. 
When I do finally speak to my sister, it does not go well. She is cold and I don't know how to get through to her because she is right to not want to talk to me, she is right to stick up for herself. I have messed up and I still have no idea how to fix things. And until I do, she is right to act like this. 
So I didn't end up going to their dinner, instead sitting alone in my apartment and staring blankly at my switched off tv, wondering what on earth I can do to fix this mess. To fix this mess that I single handedly created. 
It meant that Mami came round late, storming into my apartment, smoke practically billowing from her ears.
"You have messed up, Alexia. She is so upset and it is entirely your fault! You are stupid, you are irresponsible and you have been a terrible sister." 
I cowered under her strong gaze but she did not soften. She sat down, placing her head in her hands.
"You are almost 30! You should know better. I have not raised you to be like this, I have not raised you to throw people away without any thought, not caring how it might affect them. She is so confused and so, so upset and it is all because of you. All because you decided a few years ago that you did not have time for her anymore."
"Mami-"
There are tears in my eyes, but Mami can not see them. Mami does not care, she should not care because I did all of this, all by myself. 
"No, Alexia. You will tell me what has happened, why you have done this. You have ripped apart our family, Alexia. Alba is practically mourning the destruction of it and I just can not begin to understand why you have decided Elena doesn't mean anything to you any more."
"I haven't decided that!" My yell took my mother off guard and she recoiled. I continued before she could speak again. 
"I love her! So much and I am proud of her! I don't know what I have done, Mami and I don't know how to fix this." The tears that filled my eyes began to slip down my face. "I have ruined everything."
My voice broke and Mami softened, looking at me in confusion, some sort of inner turmoil and for the first time in my life, I recognised that she had no idea what to do. 
She didn't know what to do as I broke down into sobs, my body practically folding into itself, loud cries wracking through my body. 
"I don't know what is wrong with me." 
~~~~~~
Mami and I spoke for ages that evening. She convinced me that I should take a step back and let Elena come to me. That I should try and talk to Elena soon to tell her that I love her, that I am proud of her. 
But it ended up with another unsuccessful attempt of speaking to Elena. She was in bed and wanted nothing to do with what I wanted to say. I told her everything that Mami told me I should, ignoring the protests of my insides. 
I do not want to take a step back because I am already so far away. I want to be there for my sister like I should be, there for a hug or for some assurance. But that is not what I tell her, because apparently, that is not what would be the best for her. 
All I want is the best for her. 
I want nothing more than to tell her I want to be a part of her life like I used to be, I want things to just go back to normal. But nothing is that easy. I have to face the consequences of all my mistakes. 
Huge, terrible, life altering mistakes.
I tried again the next morning, but she ignored me completely, heading up to her room without a single utterance of a word. I could practically hear her exhale in relief as the piano chair creaked and waited until she had begun her playing to walk upstairs and sit by her door. 
She has improved at it so much, skyrocketing right past the level that Papi used to play at. The notes rang out at such a pace that I could barely keep track of where the song was going, up, down, fast, slow, loud, soft. 
The rhythms flew through the house and I didn't register the warm liquid slipping down my face until it fell with a splat into my lap. 
It is painful to realise how much I have missed; how much I miss her. 
Her playing is mesmerising and I could feel the emotion that radiates from her and her piano. 
It used to be Papi's, but now it is hers.
Because she has grown up into such a talented person and our father would be so proud of her. 
Me, I don't think he would be so proud of. 
And I hate myself because of it. 
The song broke down into soft chords and if I strained my ears I could hear her quiet whimpers. But I can't comfort her any more. 
No matter how much I want to. 
She will not be comforted by me. She doesn't want me there to comfort her. 
So I creep down the stairs and leave. I drive back to my apartment, back to Olga. 
At this point, I am used to the constant stream of water on my face. 
But there is nobody to blame but myself. 
~~~~~~
The next few weeks were equally as painful, despite Olga's efforts to lighten me up. My mood was down when I woke up in the mornings, and only got worse after training, seeing Elena light up when she spoke to my friends but escape every room I entered, cowering when I glanced over at her, leaving conversations as soon as I joined them. 
It's like she is scared of me, intimidated by me. I hate it. 
Mapi was silent in rehab, which is a big change from the constant stream of chatter I am used to. I don't think she knows what to say to me anymore, knowing what I have done. 
I wouldn't know what to say to me either. 
It is Vicky approaches me one day after training. We are all sat in the changing rooms when wanders over and asks for help with her homework. It is maths, and I tell her with a laugh that I will be no help at all, but she persists, opening her book and pointing at the maths equations, confusion written all over her face. 
I help her as much as I can, laughing at the drawings she has scrawled out on her page, explaining the trigonometry to her as she stares at me intensely. It takes a while, but she gets it eventually, finally answering a question correctly. 
"Nice, Vicky! So much better, so quickly!" 
Mapi stands up from across the room, grabbing her bag and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 
From where they are sitting in quiet conversation, my sister and Aitana look up at the door, their eyes scanning the room. Aitana's eyes land on me first and she rolls them dramatically, shaking her head in what looks like disgust. 
"Vicky, I did that yesterday. I can help you." 
Elena's voice is level, but I can see confusion in her eyes at the scene that had just unfolded. 
Vicky sighs in relief, closing her book and walking across the room to Elena. 
"I forgot you were smart!" She beams, plonking herself down on the seat beside my sister and they both dive into the world of mathematics. 
Aitana is standing up by now, her bag over her shoulder. 
"Alexia, can I speak to you outside?" Her voice is steady as she continues. "There is something wrong with my dribbling and I would like some help."
It is a lie and everyone knows it. There is never anything wrong with Aitana's dribbling. 
But I pick up my bag, following the shorter midfielder out the door, immediately faced by Mapi who stands there, anger all over her face. 
"What the hell are you doing?" Her voice is low and her words come out as a whisper, full of venom. Full of anger. 
It is something I am not used to from Mapi and it takes me off guard. My hesitance gives her the chance to continue.
"Helping Vicky Lopez with her maths when you don't have the first clue whether Elena is even at school. Elena, your sister."
"She goes to school." 
My voice is full of confidence, but Mapi is right, I don't even know how she manages to fit it all in. I don't know the first thing about her timetable. 
She rolls her eyes, scoffing. 
"Do you understand just how much damage you have done?"
I nod, inhaling and exhaling deeply. 
"She hates me, I know. I have ruined everything. It is all my fault."
Mapi nods, but it is Aitana who speaks next. 
"She doesn't even hate you, Alexia. It just shows how much she loves you. You have done all this and she still loves you, still would do absolutely anything to get your approval, your attention."
I blink to stop the tears and bite the insides of my mouth to stop it from trembling. 
"She has been begging for you to notice how hard she has been working. How well she is doing. But you do not, you don't see her, it is like you are blind! And then Vicky Lopez gets a maths question right and you give her more praise than you give Elena for being selected in this team, for working hard, for being so, so incredible." 
If Aitana wasn't whispering to keep this conversation from the ears of the people in the room we just left, she would be fully yelling, her face red and her eyes narrow. 
"She is perfect, Alexia, and it is so sad because you just can't see it, you can't see how good she is, how smart, how kind, caring. And it makes me so, so angry because you have changed her so much in the past few years, and not in a good way."
Mapi puts her hand on Aitana's arm, trying to get her to stop. Mapi knows me well, and knows when I am about to break. 
But the usually stoic midfielder has tears in her eyes when she continues, her voice softening and breaking at the same time. 
"She was such a happy little girl, so excited by everything. She loves you so much and she always looked up to you. But now she is insecure, she is lonely, isolated. She is confused and feels like she needs to fight for validation every day. Everyone has pressure on them in this team, especially when they are young, new blood. Coming from La Masia and the B team you should know this, Alexia. You should know about the pressure better than anyone because I do too. But your sister? She has it worse than anyone because she has all that, but she is your sister. Alexia Putellas, two time Ballon d'Or winner. She has to live up to that in some way and is trying to hard to do it without anyone's help. She is only 15, Alexia. 15."
Aitana stops, but I am not sure whether it is because she has nothing more to say or if it is because she is too upset. She is silenced by weak tears, shaking her head as Mapi places a soft arm around her shoulder. 
"She is right, Alexia." Mapi's voice is soft and she looks at me with that same concerned glint in her eye. "And I don't know what is going on with you, but whatever it is, it needs to be fixed. You have made some significant damage and if you don't do something about it, it will all become irreparable."
"I don't know what to do." It is a cry for help, and it is all I can say without letting my tears escape from me once more. 
Because Aitana's words are nothing I don't know, but the fact that she is saying them, that she feels the need to tell me all that, is enough to tell me that it is not clear to anyone that I already know. 
Because I have been a bad sister, I am not denying it. 
And I am guilty, I feel absolutely terrible. 
Mami said to leave her alone, let her come to me, but I don't think that was her best advice any more, because my sister is struggling. 
She is struggling and I am only making it worse. 
But I can't do anything about it. 
When she was little, she would be the person I would go to when I needed to be cheered up. She would make me smile, laugh, feel better about myself and the world around me. Her small arms would wrap around me, her chubby fingers would wipe my tears from my face and she would chatter and giggle into my ears until I was smiling again. 
She was the light in our household when Papi died, but I think that was partially because she didn't understand what was happening. 
We avoided his study like it had the plague, she would go and sit on the piano stall, practicing the songs he had taught her. 
She gave us endless cuddles, basking in our attention, her heart set on making us feel better, on putting a smile back on our faces. 
She made the darkest time of our lives bearable, she helped me get through the hardest times of my life. 
And this... this is how I repay her. 
"Ale... Alexia? Ale." Mapi's hand is on my shoulder and Aitana looks at me curiously. 
"Stop, just... stop." My voice is soft, and Mapi's eyes soften as I slide down the wall behind me. "I just... I don't know what to do."
Mapi sits down beside me, perhaps thinking that maybe she had been too harsh. 
"I had Elena over yesterday." Mapi's voice is quiet. "She said... she said she misses you, Alexia. And that... she said you told her you were going to take a step back. She thinks you already did. She doesn't want that. She just wants you."
"But I have ruined everything, Maria. This is all my fault." A singular tear finds itself on my cheek and Mapi places an arm around me. 
"You're right, you made so many mistakes. But I know you, I know you love her. She means everything to you. And she loves you as well, Ale. I know you two can get through this, but she is struggling to stay afloat with all this pressure and no support. Aitana and I... we need to look out for her because your Mami works all the time and she doesn't want to burden Alba with her problems and ruin her life. We need to be there for her at the moment because the poor girl is crumbling."
I wish she would realise that I am crumbling too. 
Olga is always there to hold me, to calm me down, but as much as she tries, she can't understand what is going on with Elena. She doesn't know Elena, which I know is my fault. 
But Mami is angry with me, so is Alba. For good reason. 
And Mapi is my best friend, but she needs to be there for Elena. 
All I want to do is cry out for help, but I know I can not because I caused it. 
"I am taking Elena out this afternoon." Aitana speaks up from where she has been stood silently. "I will talk to her again, we will work on it. I'm going to go now, but Alexia, if you need to, you can talk to any one of us."
I nod at her, trying to muster a smile onto my face as she walks back into the changing room. 
"Mapi, you are my best friend." 
She nods. 
"You will be honest?"
She nods again. 
"Do you think this is fixable? Do you think I've ruined my chance of ever getting my Lena back?" 
She rests her head on my shoulder. 
"I hope so. I miss seeing the smiles on both of your faces and truthfully, I don't think that Elena will thrive here if she keeps going on like this. She needs support, from you, your Mami and your sister and I don't really think she is getting it."
"But Mami and Alba are there for her!" I find myself getting defensive of my family. 
"I know they are, but she needs more than that at the moment. She has been skipping school because nobody is home to tell her to go to it, she has been skipping meals because nobody is home to eat with her. She doesn't sleep properly, she doesn't eat properly. It is not your mother's fault that she has to work, or Alba's fault that Elena doesn't want to burden her, but she needs more support than she is getting." 
My brain is telling me that Mapi is wrong, that my sister is fine, that my family is fine. But in my heart, I know she is right. And it makes me feel sick. 
Because if it wasn't for me being such a terrible sister, such a terrible person, Elena would not be struggling so much. She would not need Mami or Alba as much as she does, she would be thriving in this environment. 
But she is not. 
The pressure is something I only really felt when I got older, when I had thicker skin. I had a force of people around me to fall back on, to get support from. But Elena has so much pressure building on her at 15, with less experience, with less people to support her. 
And the pressure will keep building and building on top of her, until it is so high that everything falls over, falling down on top of her until she breaks. 
As if reading my mind, Mapi continues after her pause. 
"And if she does crumble under all this pressure, she will need so much support. Aitana and I will be there for her, if nobody else is."
~~~~~~ hope you enjoyed :)
Will probably be back to elena's perspective next chapter, just thought it'd be easier to write this in a different one
part VI
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aviscarrentals · 6 months
Text
why i believe alex replacing logan is the worst possible decision williams could make
#1: logan’s confidence
we saw this exact thing happen with checo last year. after his brief stint of trading wins with max, max continued to consistently wipe the floor with him via the gap in their performances. this continued to eat away at checo’s confidence until, by the end of the season, he was t-boning alex albon in singapore for no reason and somehow retiring twice in suzuka. now that there has been an extended break and he has had the chance to grind and truly work on himself nonstop, he has returned with incredible form. but who knows how long this will last? as soon as there’s a race that isn’t a red bull 1-2, he will be completely torn into and i believe the downward trajectory of last year will repeat itself.
this is very similar to what logan went through last year. once he was announced, there was so much hope for an incredible debut season, but that never came his way. i think the first big nail in the coffin was getting his first p20 at his home race and i think the biggest hit was qatar. even though he should never ever be ashamed of putting his safety first, i understand why, from an athlete’s perspective, he would look at that race as a failure.
fortunately for him, he has had a team with incredibly strong leadership backing him up. giving him the opportunities he needed, never giving up on him, celebrating the single point he scored last year like he lassoed the fucking moon, and re-signing him because he has such incredible potential as a formula 1 driver. everything went wrong for logan, except for williams, who did everything right.
except now, williams has publicly stated that they have no faith in him to score points. now the only support logan has is random fans at races, strangers on the internet, and his own friends and family. that must feel fucking awful. logan has been so positive throughout the struggles of this year and last, but he has to be hurting right now. there’s no way he isn’t.
logan sargeant is not a bad driver. you can disagree with me as loud as you want to, but i won’t hear a word of it.
absolutely stunning junior career aside, logan showed incredible improvement towards the end of the season. not only did he score a point in austin, but he came unbearably close in mexico, and if it weren’t for a hydraulics failure, he very easily could have had two points finishes in a row.
this year may seem like it has gotten off to a bad start for him, but i heavily disagree. in bahrain he had great pace and was steadily climbing closer and closer to the points when he had a brake failure. the car switched his balance completely on its own and made it literally impossible for him to turn. even max couldn’t recover from that.
in jeddah his pace was wonderful again. i think his biggest struggle currently is qualifying, but he was overtaking beautifully and making his way up the field. while 15th isn’t a spectacular finish, he was matching alex quite well throughout the whole race. (also jeddah sucks so he gets a pass 👎)
george russell did not score a SINGLE point during his rookie season for williams and he is now a race-winning future championship contender and beating his 7x wdc teammate in the standings at p4. logan has already beaten that AND he has an experienced driver that he seems to get on with quite well as a teammate to mentor him, which george didn’t have; he was william’s number one driver from day one. logan has so much potential that is only being hindered by his lack of confidence, unpreparedness (reminder he was brought to f1 an entire year earlier than he was originally supposed to be; they planned for him to be a 2024 rookie), and a shitty car.
#2: alex albon
now poor alex is in the worst position of his life. brother already probably feels like shit for putting logan through this (even though it is NOT his fault and he has absolutely zero say in this decision) and if he doesn’t score any points this weekend, he will be torn to shreds by the media.
i have already seen multiple posts including alex in their list of fuck yous. this will do incredible damage to him pr-wise and will also make him feel even worse if he doesn’t somehow pull off a miracle performance.
#3: albert park
alex is an incredible driver, constantly pulling a back marker car into the points. however, this is a track that he has historically struggled at (in the exact same turn might i add!!) for multiple years in a row. who’s to say this mistake could not be made tomorrow or sunday as well? that will make everyone involved look and feel horrible.
not to mention that the fw46 is NOT SUITED for albert park. AT ALL. vcarb’s official website describes it as a ‘medium-high’ downforce track, which is exactly what the car is suited to struggle with, making it nearly impossible for albono to score points (which, like stated before, will be terrible for him) as well as making this gp a likely inconsequential race! meaning this is the perfect opportunity to let logan drive on the limit and really showcase his true talent and capabilities as a driver.
but now williams has chosen to do the complete opposite and ruined logan’s trust in his team as well as any other offers from rival teams for him for the 2025 season. if logan’s own team would bench him for his teammate, why should they take him over a talented upcoming rookie? (this is a rhetorical question; i truly believe he has the potential to, with a good enough car and team behind him, become a race-winning driver in the future.)
#4: james vowles and the future of williams
james has justified this decision by mentioning how every race counts and that a single point can make a world’s difference in the midfield. while this is true, james has also been on the record multiple times saying that he doesn’t give two shits about this season (as well as the next few). he has stated that his goal is long-term, to rebuild the team and return it to its former success of the 90s and early 2000s. so why ruin the reputation of your driver who you have been supporting since his junior career over the possibility of a single point or two? that is a short-term solution, not a long-term one. james is usually a wonderfully eloquent speaker, however, he has completely contradicted himself here.
in my opinion, the best decision would be to race logan. while i love alex to death, he’s the one who crashed his car, completely on his own with no fellow drivers or failures on the car’s side to blame. logically, he should be the one to sit out the race, no?
like i briefly touched on before, i also think this is a golden opportunity to put logan in a race where they will most likely come away with nothing anyways and give him the opportunity to pull off something incredible (which he absolutely can under the right circumstances). if he was able to have a good drive on sunday, he would be a star and williams would look like geniuses. with this decision, everyone just looks like an asshole.
final thoughts
to conclude, i am no certified expert, but this decision makes zero sense to me, as it also does to many others from what i’ve seen. i usually wholeheartedly agree with all of james’ decisions, but this one beats me. i cannot for the life of me figure out why williams would choose this.
there is a part of me that hopes williams will reverse this decision before sunday in order to save themselves from all of the pr backlash they are facing, but i understand that that is very much wishful thinking. the only good thing that can come from this is williams finally learning how to be prepared and/or logan being able to channel his frustration into motivation (although i don’t think there’s any way for him to possibly work harder than he already has).
if anyone disagrees with me and thinks this is the right decision for williams to make, i would love to hear why. no one has to agree with me, these are just my personal thoughts on the situation.
-avis 🏎️💨
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tranquilpetrichor · 2 months
Text
lesson learned
synopsis: in which a tutoring session turns out to be much more in disguise.
cast: tutor!gunwook x fem!reader ft. gyuvin and ricky (briefly)
genre: high school!au, f2l
wc: 2.2k (2225)
warnings: suggestive, making out, yn’s outfit has a skirt, gunwook kisses yn on neck, they call each other "cute" and "hot, they r nerds, please don’t do this in a study room, barely proofread and edited help
a/n: i swear why is finishing stuff so hard, this could be so much better but i'm happy i managed to finish it. also it's kinda hard not writing from y/n's perspective but it shre is interesting. i wanna make longer fics lol but for now enjoy this bc i love writing about nerds and especially ones who are down bad.
be sure to reblog and like to support your creators!
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bright sunlight filtered in through the windows of the empty study room as park gunwook typed away on his laptop, trying to get homework done quickly.
outside, some students were walking across campus, birds were flying freely, and there were a distinct lack of clouds in the sky.
he would probably be there too, but he was supposed to be tutoring you soon. as boredom was slowly starting to set in, he double-checked the time. it was one minute after your appointment was set to begin.
odd. you weren’t usually late to anything.
before he could ponder it further, you walked into the room, sighed and put your stuff beside him, apologizing for being late. “i was talking to another professor about something, and i didn’t expect it to take that long. my bad…”
something seemed a bit different about you, but he wasn’t sure why. he shrugged the thought off and chuckled quietly.
“it’s no problem, y/n. one minute is nothing. do you prefer the curtains open or closed?”
you waved a hand at the window. “let’s close them.”
he got up and pressed a button on the light switch panel near the doorway, and the curtains automatically came down. this private school sure spent money on interesting things, but at least they were occasionally useful.
cute outfit, he thought.
was that a new pair of boots? it paired nicely with the skirt you were wearing. you managed to look hot and adorable at the same time.
how unprofessional to be distracted by your appearance—he frowned.
snap out of it. it’s time to do math, not stare like an idiot.
luckily, you didn’t say anything, even though he swore he saw a tiny smirk on your face, which you quickly removed in favor of a more neutral expression.
that was weird, he thought as you got your tablet out—the one you liked to take notes on during the calculus class you two had together.
he wasn’t sure of your exact grade in the class, but he heard it was quite high. you were smart, but didn’t seem to have problems asking for help if you needed it. in his opinion, that was pretty admirable.
gunwook noticed that if you did need help, you’d go to the teacher or try and talk to him. the two of you exchanged numbers eventually, texting each other for study sessions.
he loved being able to talk to you more, slowly learning little things about you—like how you wore a certain necklace on big days for luck, that your go-to snack was nuts (he couldn’t help but think of you as a squirrel after that), and that you had a dog named citrus.
he got the feeling that you weren’t the biggest on socializing with many people, preferring to only keep compaany with a few friends. he’s mutual friends with a few of them, like jungwon.
it was refreshing compared to his large friend group (although he loved them) and the many people who were merely interested in him for his looks.
of course, he wouldn’t mind if you were interested in his looks, but hopefully you also liked something beyond that.
you probably did—who else would end up chatting about precious stones or logical fallacies with him? he loved seeing you excited and passionate.
god, his face was probably going to be red if he kept this up.
“i see you said you wanted to look at stuff from the last lecture when you were booking the session,” he said, trying to banish certain thoughts from his head. “series can be difficult, so i get it.”
you nodded, offering him a sweet smile. “yeah, i just wanna go over a few of the divergence and convergence problems on the first practice problem set. i have the problems listed here.”
you pushed your tablet in his direction, and he picked it up.
he glanced at your solution for the first one, nearly written. “i mean, it looks like you applied the test correctly. just to make sure, how did you know to use that one?”
you didn’t hesitate to answer.
“given series is a p-series where p is equal to three. p is greater than three, so the series will converge.”
as expected, you kept up with his questioning. of course you probably knew what a damn p-series is. he’d just wanted to hear your voice some more.
speaking of voices, maintaining a professional tone with you was a miracle. gunwook’s composure and eloquence were paramount to getting him through student council meetings, debates and tutoring sessions, but those skills seemed to want a temporary vacation.
“do you want to move onto the next one?” he said, defaulting to his standard tutor voice.
“mhm. i remember our teacher said there was more than one way to do it. i never tried to figure out the other ways, but now i’m curious.”
gunwook flipped to a certain page in his notebook. “do you want me to show you how i did it? it’s definitely a different method, but we got the same answer.”
you shrugged. “sure. take your time.”
you were twirling your stylus pen in your hands and swiftly tucked it atop your ear. fuck, did you not know how cute you looked? your hair was neatly parted near the middle right now, but he wondered what it’d be like to see you disheveled. at this point, he might be thinking with something other than his brain.
you spent another few minutes talking with him, bringing his memory back to previous tutoring sessions. he remembered you said once that having to justify your reasoning on a topic was one of the best ways to deepen understanding, and that he was skilled at identifying the holes in your arguments.
“that’s why i would hate to lose a debate against you,” you had admitted. “it’s always more fun when we can work together.”
the offhanded comment could’ve had another meeting. as an friend, gunwook couldn’t quite discern your intentions, though. whether you just wanted him at arms length or in your arms was just another guessing game he played.
he was aware that the balance of power was always shifting between you two, but at the end of the day, you two were pretty much equals intellectually, keeping things in equilibrium. however, his underlying feelings of attraction threatened to ruin the balance.
as the session continued, you had a satisfied smile. you asked him about unrelated math proofs and got him off track. why did you want to discuss all this when your sessions were usually more focused? something was definitely off.
“well, that was actually everything i wanted to ask about,” you said to him suddenly, packing up swiftly. “i was just going to go if you don’t have anything else.”
he frowned.
no, please don’t.
what was wrong with him?
“unless, you wanted me to stay..” you continued, a smirk on your face. your laptop was closed and all of your study materials were neatly filed away.
you were definitely teasing him, and it was working, your behavior making him somewhat flustered. there was no turning back if he let himself escalate things right now. he could just let you leave—that’s what rational gunwook would do.
fuck it. rational gunwook was not in the room right now.
he reached out and grasped your arm. “and if i did?”
you smirked and stepped towards him. “then i’ll make sure you don’t regret your choice.”
with that, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him. gunwook quickly recovered, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you in more.
no wonder you booked the session for an hour and a half.
if anyone opens this door, i’m definitely getting kicked out as a tutor. at least these walls are pretty soundproof.
he pulled away for a bit to catch his breath. "wow, did you come here just to kiss me?”
you laughed, gazing at his eyes. "it wasn't only for that, although i'd be happy to do it again. let me clarify. i have feelings for you.”
you continued. “i’ve honestly thought about it. you’re hardworking, and not just in the classroom. when i see you practicing or studying, you dedicate yourself fully, and it inspires me to do the same. you're kind, even to people who don't deserve it. on top of that, you’ve always been a good person to talk to about anything and everything. i trust you.”
“oh, and i guess you’re cute. and hot.”
you added the last part with a small smile. after each reason, he found himself surprised by your sincere words.
gunwook groaned. “y/n, you have no idea how down bad i am. i don't even remember exactly when it started, but what i do know is that i met someone interesting, someone who challenges me and jokes with me. someone who's beautiful in every way. i'm so fucking into you."
he paused, before deciding to tease you a little. "i have a question about one thing, though. you ‘guess’ i’m cute?”
“well, did you want me to say for a fact that you’re cute?” you asked.
he pouted slightly. “would have been better.”
“fine,” you said, taking his hand. “it is an undisputed fact that you’re cute.”
“thank you.”
"and hot."
"i guess so..." you rolled your eyes, an amused grin on your face. “now can we get back to kissing?”
“i was acually trying to be professional, even though i had feelings for you too,” he whispered against your ear. “but since you insist, i’ll give you what you want.”
not wanting to rush despite his boyish excitement, he leaned down and slowly began to kiss you again, running one of his hands gently through your hair. you closed your eyes.
“want you to take control, gunwook,” you said, your breath hot against his skin and your arms wrapping around his neck.
how could he say no? he was so screwed whenever it came to you. wasting no time, he brought your hips closer to his, enjoying the proximity.
he’d never seen you like this, so blissful and carefree. all he wanted to do in this moment was to make sure you kept feeling that way.
he got a small idea.
“hold on, i’m going to lift you,” he said, and you tightened your hold on him, lifting your legs so that they wrapped around his waist. you looked like a koala, hanging on so protectively to him like he was a branch.
you let out a tiny laugh of glee—it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard.
he moved over to a chair, and carefully sat down with you in his arms. your skirt was spread across your lap, contributing to the newfound messiness of your appearance, and your legs dangled off both sides of the chair.
“let me know if you don’t like something,” he said in between kisses. “the last thing i want to do is pressure you.”
“of course,” you responded, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.
as a surge of newfound confidence rushed through him, his kisses became more intense, trailing down to your collarbone. you tilted your neck slightly to allow him more access to the area.
shit, he was probably the luckiest guy alive right now.
“so beautiful,” he murmured, tracing your chin with one of his hands, “and you’re mine.”
damn, calm down now.
“wow, for someone who’s so sweet, you sure do have a possessive side.”
he winced. “is it too much?”
you laughed and smiled playfully. “not at all. i find it hot.”
that sentence alone sent a warmth through his body.
“that’s good to know,” he replied with a smirk. he was definitely going to do that more often.
soon, his lips found yours again, like a moth to a flame. damn, he could spend all day doing this (if they had no risk of getting caught).
in his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he sighed, looking at the notification.
gyuvin: r u coming to get ice cream with me and ricky? u said ur tutoring thing with ur gf ends at 4:00
the time was 3:44 pm. wow, were they really at it for that long?
gunwook smiled. gyuvin had texted “gf” as a joke, but little did the poor guy know.
“is it something important?” you asked, still on his lap.
he shut off the phone, looking back at you. “it’s gyuvin. during lunch, me, him and ricky made last minute plans to get ice cream—they’re asking me if i still want to come. i should get going soon.”
of course, his feet didn’t want to move.
you looked intrigued. “do they mind a plus one?”
yeah, they're going to tease me the entire time.
“i’ll ask,” he responded, face somewhat warm from embarrassment. "but one of these days, i’ll take you out on a proper date, just us two. you deserve it.”
your eyes lit up, and you smiled. “i’ll hold you to it, gunwook.”
his phone buzzed again.
gyuvin: yea sure bring her, we support
gyuvin: besides i have ricky he's gonna be my bf now
"they said yes," gunwook said, laughing silently at gyuvin's last message. "let's go in 5 minutes?"
you reciprocated, resting your head gently on his shoulder. "any longer and i don't think i could leave."
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bluemooniegif · 2 months
Text
Soukoku's first meeting could not have been written more perfectly. Allow me to explain
A quick note on the manga panels: these are fan translations from BSD Bibliophile. At one stage they refer to Dazai as 'the youngest boss in Mafia history,' and the executive meeting as 'a meeting of five bosses.' This is just a stylistic choice! All of the panels shown here are from chapters 8 (volume 2), 10 & 11 (volume 3)
I love this scene more than life itself, because it is literally the PERFECT introduction to Chuuya, his character, and his relationship with Dazai. Let's talk about it!
First: some context. Dazai seems to be in a bit of a predicament- he's walked right into a trap set by the Port Mafia, an organisation that we don't know much about at this stage in the story. What we do know, and what we can observe, is this:
Dazai is a former executive, and appears to have walked into the trap on purpose
He is now being held in a room that Akutagawa describes very negatively- the fact of being here is dangerous
Dazai reveals that Akutagawa was once his subordinate, and that he thought very lowly of him at the time. He claims to still think of him this way. Akutagawa has a violent reaction to this.
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This is a PERFECT example of 'showing, not telling' within a story. Rather than making a bunch of asides, describing what Dazai and Akutagawa are feeling and why, Asagiri & Harukawa have plopped us into the middle of a rather awkward reunion. I feel like I've walked into my friend's Christmas dinner and am now witnessing family politics unfold real time. It's like watching a car crash.
Now, we move between settings a bit, jumping around to watch Yosano DESTROY Kajii, Atsushi rescue Kyouka, and subsequently be injured and kidnapped by Akutagawa. We watch the Agency fall into disarray when Fukuzawa demands that everyone go looking for Atsushi- interesting, considering that Dazai is IN THE BASEMENT OF THE PORT MAFIA RIGHT NOW.
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I've had lots of discussions and arguments about the meaning and significance of this. I won't delve too deep into it for now, but the way I see it is this: something the ADA is really REALLY good at is splitting up Mystery-Inc. style and working to solve cases etc., together, but apart. Dazai is also something of a stray dog (... cat), regularly wandering off and reappearing of his own accord. He's been with the ADA for several years at this point, and they would understand the way he operates well. Even if there's no indication whether he explicitly told anyone what he's doing or where he's going (which honestly, does that matter, when Ranpo would know immediately anyway?), we can safely assume that this is more or less a regular thing for them.
Anyway, back to the point. the Agency is not fazed by Dazai's disappearance... and neither, for some reason, is Dazai. He stands chained to the wall in the PM's basement- the same one, we discover later, where he's brutally tortured countless victims and traitors, and he's humming a little tune to himself, smiling, totally relaxed. We as the audience know he's pretty unflappable, and Akutagawa's expression when he sees him confirms this, too.
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But. BUT. This doesn't last.
With the ADA descending into chaos, we switch perspectives back to Dazai again. He's bored at this stage, and thinking to himself that they must be searching for Atsushi soon (an indication that he was riling Akutagawa up earlier, btw) when he hears it: A voice that makes his resolve crack. A look of panic on his face that, at this stage, we haven't seen yet.
He turns, and we see Chuuya for the first time! He's got this strange smug look on his face, something deeply vindictive. Here's a current mafia executive, and he's so happy to see Dazai chained to the wall of their Torture Basement that you can't help but wonder... is there something that Dazai did to him, personally, that makes him feel this way? Or is this guy just so deeply involved with the PM that the fact Dazai left is like a personal slight against him?
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Now, we don't really have long enough to truly panic over this predicament, because almost immediately these two fall into their old habits. Dazai isn't PLEASED, but he isn't afraid. He goes right into bantering with Chuuya, who surprisingly meets him right in the middle. Their regular dynamic shines right through: it's quick-witted quips, inside jokes, and knowing looks. It's this odd relaxation in their posture. In all of this, we have an acknowledgement of what they were, and evidence to suggest that they still are... whatever that thing is. Whatever you wanna call it: partners, boyfriends, best friends, buddies. That much is up to interpretation; the only undeniable fact is that they once knew each other better than themselves, and still do.
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Then, the fight. This, to me, comes across as more of a way to display how powerful they both are individually: Chuuya punches concrete so hard it shatters in several places, Dazai snaps his fingers and breaks out of handcuffs.
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We have front-row seats to what is in my opinion one of the best action sequences in early BSD, not just for what physically transpires, but what it tells us: they deeply understand each other on multiple levels. They're constantly predicting each other's moves, and they know where each other's weak spots are.
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But there's also been a lot of growth. Dazai surprises Chuuya a few times, and vice-versa. Despite their apparent closeness, it's still clear that they haven't been together like this for a long, long time.
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Then, they reach checkmate. It appears as though Chuuya has won, and we're fed some more Dazai lore- he was the youngest executive the PM ever saw.
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This is how Chuuya remembers Dazai. Again, I want to remind you that this is the first time so far we're seeing PM-zai, and he is worlds away from the Dazai we've grown to know so far.
Though Chuuya seems to have driven Dazai into a corner, the roles are quickly reversed when Dazai claims to know something about a meeting between all five of the Mafia's executives. Chuuya quickly realises this is one of his 'predictions,' further proving the depth of their mutual understanding.
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With hindsight, we know just how big a deal a meeting of this scale is, and knowing a certain stormbro (who I won't reveal just in case of spoilers) will be there makes me lose my mind, personally. It clearly affects Chuuya, as well, which was undoubtedly Dazai's goal.
With the power balance disrupted again, they quickly fall back into that same bantering dynamic. The volatile nature of their relationship is so perfectly portrayed within this short scene that it actually makes me sick, I genuinely don't think it could have been more perfect
Anyway. Chuuya has realised, at this stage, that Dazai had multiple goals when he allowed himself to be kidnapped, and one of those was to piss Chuuya off (which is something I think he could've managed even if Chuuya wasn't physically there). This, in turn, pisses Chuuya off, especially when he realises the predicament Dazai has left him in- let him escape, or the Mafia suffers. A test of loyalty, Chuuya's greatest weakness. Do you understand why I am tearing my hair out and howling at the moon??? This is fucking insanity.
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And then, the final moment! The part we all know and love! Not only does Chuuya choose to err on the side of caution, allowing Dazai to escape- he also leaves with the repetition of another inside joke. And Dazai laughs- he looks genuinely happy, too.
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That is all. I'm gonna go cry now ಥ_ಥ
read this original thread on twitter
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hoarah-babylon · 2 months
Text
Let me switch it up and talk about some lore from the DLC that I really liked
Learning about Marika is the main thing that truly moved me so much. The items and atmosphere (that music!!!) in Shaman Village genuinely brought me to tears. I just wasn't expecting to get such a human perspective of Marika and her actions. Her past doesn't justify her actions during her reign at all of course, but I understand her motivations now and they're just... so human and illogical.
It really resonated with me. I know what it's like to feel loss, to feel like you don't have a home, or that you do have a home, but it will never be the same and you can never return to it. To have this idealised version of it in your mind and have this illogical need to preserve it. I know what it's like to feel guilt and try to right things even though it never can truly be fixed. It re-contextualises so much, and I loved that.
I always said I thought it was wild for her to take the Rune of Death from the Elden Ring, like how could she have ever thought that would work out? It was doomed to fail from the start. But I get it now. She wasn't doing that from any kind of logical thinking - it's all emotion, it's all trauma and grief and wanting to do whatever she could to avoid that loss ever again. Grieving a heavy loss and newly in a position of godhood... of course she made decisions that wouldn't make sense to most. Of course she removed Death as soon as she had the chance, or opportunity.
For me it completely negates any theory that Marika was working with Ranni on the dire plot - this makes The Shattering out to be something that was born completely from grief. She did everything she could, everything within her power to avoid experiencing this kind of loss ever again, and still lost her golden child in one of the most horrific ways possible. Marika started her reign on the premise of emotion and revenge, and essentially ended it for the same reasons. It's great storytelling, comes full-circle and answers a lot of questions I had from the base game! 10/10
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woodenanemone · 8 months
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In my perspective, Choso is a man who could genuinely become lovesick and insane for you.
There’s nothing more that he seeks from life. You’re it. Tears fill his eyes in quiet moments when he thinks about just how lucky he is. How perfect you are for him. Just your pure existence alone brings the man to heaving breaths and panicked hands running through his hair, silently longing for his mind to just shut up and his heart to calm down. He’s… slightly terrified of you, actually.
Terrified of how unaffected he feels when thinking about hurting someone for you. Of the happiness he feels swell in his heart when he thinks about ending his own life to see a smile on your face. The sheer influence your eyes have over his body; how they increase the amount of blood running through his body, how they dot sweat across his hairline, creates a tremble in his lip and hands, the tears, oh the tears. They come in waves, when the realization that he is completely and wholly devoted to you hits him once again.
He’s also terrified of the power your lips have over his thoughts. It’s a little disturbing how often his mind will wander to the wonderful thing that is your lips. You make him want nothing more than to talk to you for hours on end— with the way your lips move, the way they form letters and words and sentences… he can’t stand the thought of him saying more than five words at a time. It’s truly just a waste of his breath if it’s taking away from the sight of your lips moving. His search history is full of questions such as “deep conversation prompts”, and “how to get someone talking for hours”. Watching your lips form such precious conversation that he stores deep in the crevices of his memory, can send the man into a fit of pure psychosis. The thought of your lips on his has yet to cross his mind; just the beauty and shape and color of your lips bring him to his knees on its own. But when it does, he has to physically hold his chest. It occurs when he’s watching a movie with Yuuji one night, the boy had long since fallen asleep on the armchair, leaving Choso to view the film he had no sort of desire to see, but had yet to switch off. He couldn’t care to remember the name, something corny. But when he saw the female actress pull the male actor into an embrace, her hands spread across his cheeks as she brought him towards her— their faces drew together slowly, his eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips, Choso found himself leaning forward on the couch, eyebrows slightly furrowing in anticipation. And there was a pause. A pause between the two actors, before their lips laid on the other’s.
A short breath of air escaped the man as he stared at this seemingly private moment, but he couldn’t look away. The way the man’s hands slithered up to cup her face so carefully, tilting his head to get more of her, to feel more of her… oh he couldn’t take it. Choso quickly switched off the TV, as if it offended him, staring at the black screen as he reflected on what he had just witnessed. Sure, he was familiar with kisses. He had accidentally seen a young couple or two wrestling with their tongues in an all too inappropriate setting. He’d always avert his eyes quickly, feeling uncomfortable and invasive. But he’s never seen it like that. Although it was shot with a script in mind, the care and the intimacy in that kiss were too heartbreaking for him at that moment, he had to clutch the skin above his heart in fear that the rapid rhythm would soon kill him. The fact that it was nothing more than a job for them, and yet there was still that amount of passion—but as he continued to think and reflect, the actors’ lips morphing into his own, and the actresses into yours— he let out an audible sound of agony, throwing his back against the back of the couch, finding himself mourning over the loss of his free will over his heart, his life. Saddened for the loss of his sanity, feeling nothing but joy at your control of his soul… he knew that was far from sane thinking.
Those lips, paired with your voice, oh he’s genuinely going to throw up. He gets sick at the sound of his own voice at some point. The fact that he’s speaking right now, as is in he’s preventing your pretty voice from filling the air and blessing his ears, is truly sickening. He wishes he could just transport his responses and conversation prompts into your brain, so you never have to pause your talking. He could never get bored of your talking. Every word you speak, every thought you convey, every joke that you tell (that sometimes flies over his head. but he laughs anyway.) is kept away in his poor, aching heart for safekeeping, he adores every single sound out of your lips. He knows there are times where you don’t want to speak, and that’s more than okay with him. He’ll gladly fill in the air with nonsense, or let the silence keep its place in the room, he doesn’t mind. The communication between your eyes is enough to fill the conversation for both of you.
He stares a lot. Like… a lot. But he can’t help it, and he’s certainly not going to stop. How could he just ignore your presence like that? To ignore your deep eyes, the curve of your nose, the sweet color of your lips, and the rise of your throat as you swallow your dinner would be a transgression he wouldn’t dare commit. It’s an insult to you and to himself to look away from you. The overpowering beauty that is you is an art that must be gazed upon, and to be admired. To be awed at. To be wept over, to be absolutely crazy about. And he was all of the above. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring at you far too long than what’s considered normal. It’s like you’re a character on a screen, and he’s a hopeless viewer, gushing over how addicting this character is, obsessively creating fantasies full of you you you, unable to break free of your voice, the shape of your face, the sight of your smile. But he isn’t a spectator, he’s here, he’s with you, and you’re with him. He can touch you (if he so dared… he doesn’t think he has the heart to invade your personal space.), he can speak to you, and you can respond. The realization that you’re not a silly figment of his imagination, or cast for a role on a screen he can only spectate, sends him into a spiral.
You control everything about him. Every thought, every pump of his enslaved heart, every tear that falls from his lovesick eyes, is all for you. You carry his heart, soul, and very existence in those (precious, pretty, delicate, oh he just wants to kiss every knuckle—) hands of yours. He’d beg for you, he would get on his hands and his knees and put his head to the ground as he just pleads for you… anything you wanted, he’d do it. You torment his life, his very being, and he craves for more.
He’s yours, he’s yours.
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im soo normal about choso el oh el
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