#this isn't meant to be a 'hey come debate' post

[mildlylesbian]

At this point I refuse to touch any sort of online discourse with a 10ft pole because the landscape has become so toxic that people are more focused on fighting one another rather than the issue at hand, which leads to nothing happening ever.

However, scrolling through a screaming match between two people at 2am where niether of them makes any impact on the actual contriversy cause they're too busy fighting one another is so so so irratating but also so cathartic.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

What's One More?

Mike Schmidt x AFAB! Reader

Summery: The house is all to you and Mike, which is a strange feeling to Mike as he begins to realize how things are changing. But change isn't always a bad thing, is it?

Tags: Porn with plot barely, no use of Y/N, Reader has female pronouns, set after the events of the FNaF movie, pre-established relationship, breeding kink, dirty talk/talking through it, oral sex (fem recieving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, pet names, possessive sex/actions, marking, hair pulling, mentions of drinking, multiple rounds, aftercare, multiple orgasms, teasing, dumbification, overstimulation, this is possibly filthier than Princess imma be fr.

Notes: Yes I'm working on requests. Yes I'm working on part II for 'Easy Money.' Yes I'm working on 50 million different projects + writers block that's preventing me from posting as much as I'd like. But in the meantime, *rattles can* COME GET Y'ALLS DICK.

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The front door opened at the same time it does everyday, Mike slipping in quickly to evade the cold, bitter Febuary air that has turned his cheeks red while he called out his usual 'hello' to the house. His easy smile instantly appeared as soon as our eyes met, me standing at the stove giving the large pot of chilli its final stir just in time for his arrival home.

"Hey!" I said cheerfully, looking up from the boiling pot briefly before setting the lid back down, crossing the floor quickly to come collect his coat.

"Hey," he returned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my cheek as I undo his buttons, his hands coming to rest on my silk covered hips. "Never seen you in this before," he mumbled, pulling away slightly to get a better look.

"You like?" I ask, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders and folding it over my arms. "I've had this since freshman year. Found it in one of my boxes from the move." The robe is simple, thrifted but It'd been new when I'd gotten it. Emerald green and made from silk, if not silk like material- I'm no expert on fabrics, -reaching down to my ankles and showing off my curves, drawn tight around my waist to accent my figure. Simple floral patterns sewn into the collar decorate the robe, slightly darker than the rest of the fabric. His eyes wandered over my body, taking in the sight as he slowly removed his items from his pockets.

"You look nice," he said, almost sounding as if he was in a trance.

"Just nice?" I tease.

"The word 'motherly' comes to mind," he said. "Not- not in a weird way," he quickly added, blushing slightly. "Just- you cooking, dressed in that. Just kinda...." He's flustered, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to clarify what I already understand.

I smile at him, leaning closer. "Well, it's fitting," I teased.

It had been about a year since I moved in. Mike and I had met during a night out, our friends recognizing each other. Initially I thought the blonde he had been with- Vanessa, I would later learn, -had been a bit more than a friend. But after spending the night round a table, laughing and getting up one by one for drunken karaoke, Mike and I had made eye contact enough times to warrant my request for his number after I confirmed she wasn't.

"Seriously?" He asked when I'd passed him the notepad specifically meant for numbers that I kept in my purse.

"Yeah," I'd laughed, slightly- okay, maybe more than slightly -drunk. "You're hot."

I was three beers and one shot of straight tequila into the night when I'd asked, everyone beginning to debate who would call a taxi and who would ride with who. I felt rather confident.

His eyes narrowed, his cheeks red most likely from alcohol. Although he'd only had the one beer.

"Oh shit," I giggled stupidly. "Did I read things wrong? Because I thought-"

"No! You didn't," he quickly said, cutting me off. He scribbled his number down quickly, scratchy enough that I could barely read it, and he could sense that.

"You want me to write it again?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Maybe," I giggled. "Or I can have my friend ask Vanessa if I get it wrong."

I got it wrong. Twice. But that was my fault since I called as soon as I'd gotten home, bleary eyed and claiming to just be checking to see if he got home alright, which wasn't a total lie. Then he asked if I wanted to get Chinese the next day. And how am I supposed to say no to an offer like that?

When he first brought up his sister I think he expected me to run for the hills. God, no. Not a man committed to caring for his baby sister. Please.

When I'd met the girl she was sly, simply saying "Oh, you're who he won't talk about." Mike seemed ready to throttle her, and I was ready to step in and help take care of her however much they needed me to. Who could say no to a kid like that?

Three years in and Mike had been nervous asking for me to move in. We'd both had the idea, but we both were terrified that the other would immediately shoot it down. But it was almost ridiculous to worry about such a thing. Mike had visited me all the time with Abby in tow, I visited Mike. Eventually we were at the point that I was at his house more often than I was at my own apartment. And with Abby getting older and beginning to have a life of her own, one that I could tell Mike was anxious about her having, it was about time a serious talk be had about the future of our relationship.

"You know, married couples have better taxes," I said casually one day while huddled around the kitchen table, papers strewn all over the place and some even on the floor while I punched numbers into a calculator. I think that nearly killed Mike, who shot out air through his nose hard enough all of his coffee covered his face and hair.

Then a week later he'd flipped through channels lazily, commenting on how awful the channels were before landing on the one of the marketers selling jewelry for prices that could make you shit.

"That's a nice ring," he commented. "Don't you think?"

I looked up from my book, narrowing my eyes to focus my vision. "Ooh, it is," I agreed.

"What kind of rings do you like? Like, what's your favorite?" He asked.

"Subtle," I deadpanned, smiling. "I'm coming with you to pick it out."

We picked up a new set of housekeys first.

"Get a room," Abby groaned, wandering in to flop onto the couch.

"Don't flop, you'll hit your head," Mike and I both scolded, smiles growing as we heard the other. Abby simply groaned louder, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, that's punishment enough," I muttered, giggling slightly. I moved to the coat closet, hanging up Mike's jacket. "How was work?" I asked him.

Mike shrugged, leaning against the wall. "It was good. Long. Shop gets cold this time of year," he said.

"Well, dinner will help. It's done, by the way. Timed it just right," I said with a wide smile. Mike returned it, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me once more and say a soft 'thank you' before pressing his lips to mine.

"Seriously, a room," Abby groaned.

"There's one right there with a table that needs set. Go on," I said to her, gesturing towards the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes once more, getting up off the couch and grumbling as she made her way to the cabinets.

"Wow," Mike chuckled. "She's got attitude."

"She's fourteen, we should be lucky she hasn't killed us in her sleep," I said into his ear, laughing.

"Don't you mean ours?"

"No."

The dinner is nice. A scene right out of a book, all of us gathered around the table eating the warm food as we discuss our days, Mike and I shooting each other glances here or there when we think Abby, who's in the middle of some long story neither of us are truly able to give our attention towards, won't notice. Eventually his hand found mine under the table, grasping it gently and squeezing as I hold his gaze, smiling in the same idiotic manner he always brings out of me.

"It's tonight. I know it's short notice but all of my friends are going and her parents will be there," Abby said quickly, inturrupting our mental conversation with her pleading eyes.

"Wait a minute, back up. What's happening?" Mike said, blinking and refocusing.

"The sleepover," Abby said emphatically. "I didn't find out about it until today and my friends invited me. Can I go?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, his eyes worried and glancing over to me.

"Who is this?" He asked.

"Lisa."

"Lisa?"

"Lisa Browning," I reminded him.

"Oh. And this is at her house?" He asked.

"Yes," Abby moaned in frustration, clearly impatient for her answer.

Mike and I glanced at each other. His eyes are unsure, looking to me for my thoughts.

"She visits them all the time, I don't see why not," I said. I turn to Abby. "Is her mom picking you up?"

"She can," Abby said quickly.

Mike is still unconvinced, I can tell by his grasp on my hand.

"You have that phone we bought you for Christmas?" I asked her. She nodded. Since recieving the cheap, purple Motorola she hadn't let it out of her grasp. "If you go, will you call us when you get there, when you guys are going to sleep? Any location change you'll run by us first?" I asked. Abby nodded again, her eyes shifting to Mike once more, wide with teenage desperation.

It was hard for Mike watching her get older. It would scare any parent, but take a man who'd watched his brother be kidnapped and his parents wilt away leaving him to step up? There were days Mike would wake hyperventilating, terrified something would happen to her if he didn't do something. It took convincing, but over time I had convinced him to relax, told him she was smart. Once I'd told him all the trouble I'd survived, he finally learned to catch his breath before jumping into several questions about how I was still alive with a new panic.

With a squeeze of my hand, he nodded.

"Check in. If you don't, I'll call her mom."

"Unnecessary, I'll call," Abby said, leaping from her seat and already dialing a number.

"Wash your plate!" Mike tried to tell her, but she was already gone.

"I'll get her plate, let her go," I chuckled. Mike sighs beside me, wiping his face with his hand.

"You think she'll be okay?" He asked me.

"I think fourteen year olds spend their days watching scary movies and MTV, nothing she won't do here," I said, taking a spoonful of chilli into my mouth. After I swallow I add, "Besides, it gives us the chance for some alone time."

That solidified the decision in his mind.

Much to Abby's embarrassment, Mike reminded Mrs. Browning to have Abby call us to check in, and with her reassurement he finally relaxed, walking back into the house once they're out of sight.

As I finish drying the dishes, I feel his hands settle on my hips, warm and large as he sinks his head into the crook of my neck.

"Where did the time go?" He mused, moreso to himself than to me.

"Feeling old?" I teased.

"Yes."

"Hot."

"Shut up," he groaned, laughing into my neck.

"'Oh my God, get a room,'" I groan in a fake voice, my laughter joining in.

"Are we gross?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.

"A little," I concede. "I mean, imagine how you're gonna feel when she brings home a boyfriend."

At that his eyes widen and he groans. "I don't wanna deal with teenage boys," he moaned, pulling away to lean against the counter in front of me.

"Oh, they're coming. Just you wait. I was this age when I got my first boyfriend," I warned him.

"Teenage boys are idiots," he said.

"Teenage girls are terrifying," I add. At that he nods, eyebrows raised in agreement. "Oh, she could bring home a girl instead!"

"You know what, I'd prefer that. Less trouble actually," he decided.

"You'll survive," I tell him, shaking my head as I set the dish inside the cabinet with a small clatter. He sighed, smiling to himself in thought.

"I remember when she was a baby. So tiny," he said softly. "You should've seen her. So cute. Smelled good, too."

"You've been smiling at babies a lot, you know," I teased, shutting the cabinet and putting away the dishcloth. "Something on your mind?"

Mike blushed, waving his hand. "Nah." He paused. "...kinda," he admitted. I chuckled. Every time we'd passed a couple our age walking through the store with a baby in tow, Mike was instantly softened. His usual automatic glare giving way to a little smile as he'd wave at the tiny human, maybe even making a face to make them laugh. It'd been entertaining when ones mother once caught him with his cheeks puffed out and eyes crossed, the baby letting out a huge shriek of laughter at the sight. He hid in the soup aisle for awhile after that while I tried not to cry from laughter.

"We still have plenty of Abby's old baby stuff in the garage, you know," I said. It wasn't a new conversation, we had both agreed it was something we wanted when the time came. "Spare room, stable jobs, great sex."

Mike's wide eyes watched me as I slowly trailed closer. "Good genetics," he mumbled.

"I don't see any reason we couldn't put any use to those things," I mused, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning into him.

"I can't tell if you're serious," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Even Abby would like it. Said we're taking forever as is," I said cooly. He laughed at that.

"No she didn't," he said.

"She did!"

"Abby, the one who can't even see us in the same room without threatening suicide?"

"Listen, babies are different," I laughed, shrugging. He eyed me carefully, looking me up and down before saying anything.

"You'd like that?" He asked finally, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"I'm living in your house, wearing a ring and making dinner for you and your little sister that I've been helping you raise for four years. What is one more commitment?" I asked.

"It's a human being," he pointed out.

"Oh, fuck that then. None of those shits are gonna live in my house," I deadpanned. He laughed, leaning in to catch my lips in a kiss.

"Be our human being," he said softly.

"That means it'll be funny," I said just as soft.

"It could have your eyes."

"Could have your nose."

"Yours is better."

"You're right."

He smacks my ass gently, chuckling as his eyes darken pleasantly. "Should we give it a try?" He asked, his voice low and rough in my ear.

"I'd say it's about time you asked."

Mike hiked me onto his shoulder, carrying me through the house and pushing open the door to our room as I giggled wildly, feeling the bed underneath of me as he flung me down, fingers searching for the ties of my robe.

"You're sure about this?" He asked, eyes watching me carefully. "This isn't just some sex thing?"

I laughed, feeling him struggle with the knot.

"Not a sex thing," I clarify. "Although admittedly hot. Do you need help?"

"The fuck did you do to this thing?" He asked, laughing but brows furrowed in frustration. I reached to pull on the string and give it one simple tug, making it come undone to reveal my simple underwear underneath.

"I like coming home to this," he said, his voice deep and husky. "You look so comfortable here. So perfect. House is so much brighter with you in it. Just so perfect."

His lips wander on my chest, first working on the valley between my breasts, his teeth nipping at the band of my bra. He tugged it upwards, snapping it against my skin harshly. A soft moan escapes me, and I allow my legs to fall open to offer him better access. He takes the opportunity, settling his body perfectly against mine as his lips begin to trail upwards to my throat.

"I love waking up next to you in the morning. I sleep so much easier with you here, feeling your breath against me as soon as I wake up. You've got creative methods to keep me up too when I don't want to be," he teased. His hands find my hips, squeezing them as he thrust our clothed hips together, making us both groan. "Are you already wet?" He asked me, nipping at my throat.

"Gotta have something to think about while I cook," I teased. He chuckled. His lips find purchase and begin sucking on my skin, creating a dark mark on the front of my throat that will only be properly covered by a sweater. I moaned slightly louder, rocking my hips slowly against his. His lips moved slightly higher, creating another, then repeating until a dotted line of dark hickies lay upon my throat, marking me all the way to just under my chin. As he sucked on the edge of my jawline, I let out a high pitched whine, digging my hands into my own hair as I tried to not rush through this.

"You sound so pretty like this," Mike said against my skin, his breath warm. "Only thing prettier is how you look." His warm hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone softly.

"Talk to me," he said softly, staying still aside from the gentle stroke of his thumb. His eyes are soft, black in the dim lighting from his blown out pupils. He looks so sweet, so ready to please. If I said the word he'd do anything so long as it made me happy.

I cup his face with my hands, pulling him towards me to capture his lips in a soft kiss. His lips are warm against mine, wet from his own spit from creating the dark marks against me. He moaned softly, his tongue swiping at my lower lip to ask permission for access. I grant it, parting my lips slightly and gasping as his tongue quickly slides in, deep in my mouth and dominating the kiss as his grasp on me tightened. It felt as though he was desperate, like a dying man trying to experience his last contact with another human being ever in his life. I tried to return the kiss with as much frenzy, but his hands on either side of my face, his grasp firm yet careful, his hips pinning me to the mattress made my mind begin to slip into a world of pleasure, not able to focus on anything except how good it felt to not be in control.

I could feel his breathing through his nose, still kissing me and exploring my mouth. It lasted a minute, two, three. When he finally pulled away, several gossamer threads of spit still connected us, disappearing into thin air as he looked down at me, his hand carefully stroking my forehead.

"I'm going to ask one more time," he said carefully. "This is your last chance. After this I'm not checking," he stressed. His breath is hot and heavy against me, and my hips roll against his in an attempt for friction. "Are you one hundred percent positive?" He asked, his eyes wide and eager as he placed carefully kisses along my cheeks. I nod quickly, desperate for more. Mike shook his head, pulling away slightly.

"Say it," he said. "Be clear."

I blushed, suddenly feeling shy for no real reason. "I'm completely sure," I said gently. "I want this."

"This as in sex or a kid?" He asked.

"Both," I answered.

"You're completely sure? Because if you want to back out that's completely-"

"Michael, I swear to fucking God if you don't hurry up and fuck me I'm gonna get you pregnant, see how you like-"

Mike scrambled off the bed, grabbing my ankles and pulling me roughly to the edge. I let out an involuntary yelp, giggling as he spread my legs wide and high, his lips and teeth pressing against my left ankle before quickly trailing downwards, biting and sucking quickly as he moaned wantingly.

"Eager?" I asked him lightly. He shoots me a look, biting down particularly hard on a spot almost under my knee before beginning his work on the inside of my thigh. His hand trailed up and down my right thigh, grazing his nails against my skin to make me shiver while he focused his mouth on the other.

"You taste delicious," he moaned, teeth sinking into my thigh as his nails dug in harshly, raking down until his hand came near my hips before raking back up to my knee. "Whatever soap you're using, keep using it."

I blush, moaning gently. My hips rolled towards his head, making him chuckle.

"Be patient," he chided.

"I am patient," I said defensively.

"Since when?" He asked, biting down on a new spot. I moan again, squirming against him as I felt a surge of warmth shoot from my head straight to my cunt. "Anytime I so much as look at you, you beg me to fuck you."

"That's not true," I said. His hand slaps my thigh, grabbing it roughly as he bit down once more, lower.

"Made me fuck you on the table last night just because you couldn't focus on your book," he tisked. "Now you're making me fuck you because you want a baby."

"You want one too," I reminded him.

"I want anything with you," he moaned against my skin. "Especially anything that makes you mine."

My hands stretch above my head, my fingers woven together. Mike's eyes caught on something, staring at my hand as his mouth drew closer to where I wanted it.

"Your ring looks so pretty," he moaned. "Love seeing you wear it. So glad I bought it. Love seeing people notice it on you."

"Yeah?" I asked. I tried to squeeze his head with my thighs, but his hands keep me open, even spreading my legs wider after my attempt.

"Remember that kid at the bar?" He asked, chuckling. The 'kid' in question had been in college, clearly drunk as he leaned against the bar next to me while I'd waited for Mike, who'd watched the interaction curiously from the window outside, asking if it hurt when I fell from heaven. A simple flash of my ring and the response of having someone catch me before I hit the ground sent him stumbling away to disappear once more into the crowd. "Poor fucker looked so disappointed," Mike said, sucking a dark spot into my thigh, making me squirm and throw my head back in pleasure.

"You like being possessive," I teased him. His hand smacked my thigh once more.

"I'm not the one who came and shoved her tongue down my throat when the bartender got a little too flirty for her taste," he said. His eyes sparkled, fingers massaging the spot tinged red from the abrasion.

"I did not shove my tongue down your throat," I said defensively.

"You pulled my hair like I was a bitch," he laughed. His hot air blew against my clothed cunt, making me gasp from stimulation. He picked up on this, blowing cold air against me before saying "She was just trying to get tipped."

"I know," I moaned. "I'd had a couple."

Mike licked at my covered pussy, flattening his tongue wide against me as he licked a long, hot stripe from bottom to top, sucking at my clit through the wet cotton once he reached it. I moaned into the pillow beside me, muffling my cries. His hand reached up and snatched it from me, throwing it off the bed as he repeatedly licked, gaining speed as his dark eyes watched me.

"Okay, maybe we're both possessive," I conceded, bucking my hips against his face. He hummed happily, his large hands cupping my asscheeks and lifting my hips higher off the bed as he squeezed the cool flesh.

"I like it," he said. "Like that I won't even have to do anything to show you're mine now after this."

I feel my stomach flutter at his words, a blush dusting my cheeks.

"It may take a couple tries," I tell him.

"We've got all night," he said breathily.

"Until Abby calls," I reminded him. He groaned at that. "She's not gonna call, we both know that," I laughed.

"Not my problem right now," he said. His fingers hooked around the band of my underwear, pulling them away from me harshly. "You are."

"A problem?" I said in mock offense. "Well, I guess if that's what I am, I'll take my goods elsewhere." I huffed haughtily, twisting away from him and turning onto my stomach. The motion helped Mike bring my underwear to my ankles as I began to crawl away. He tugged them off fully, then grabbed my ankles once more to return me to the edge of the bed. I yelped once more, grabbing at the sheets and dragging them down with me. Mike spread me open once more and immediately shoved his tongue as deep inside of me as he could, holding my hips up and legs open as he tongue fucked me in earnest. I cried out, grinding my hips against his face. I clutched a pillow to my face, crying and even screaming into it when his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly at just the right spot to make me cum with barely a warning. Mike had been pleased as punch when he figured out just the right angle the very first time. It was his favorite, throwing me into orgasm without any preparation to strike me dumb and overstimulated. There were times he'd focus on my clit for what felt like hours, tugging and licking to figure out what made me cum the fastest, the hardest, sometimes even managing to make me paint his face, and once his hair. He grinned so wide I almost thought his face would split open when he accomplished that.

He pulled away from my cunt for just a moment, his voice deep and commanding. "Let me hear you," he said. He buried himself in my cunt once more. I could feel his jaw moving, his bottom lip moving against my clit as his tongue slipped in and out, creating lewd, nasty noises that filled the air. I moaned into my pillow, hardly able to think. His hand smacked my ass hard before he pulled away once more. "Don't make me ask again, woman."

I raised my head to say something, but the words escaped me as I felt his tongue dive in once more, curling to scoop my slick into his mouth. He moaned at the taste, his hand roughly grabbing at my ass. All that spilled from my mouth were long, broken moans as I fucked his face, gutturally pleading for more. He flipped me onto my back roughly before spreading the lips of my soaked pussy apart, attaching his lips quickly and sucking at that perfect spot. I screamed, shrill and high as though I'd been stabbed while he giggled in excitement against me. The vibrations of his voice against my clit sent me higher, my head digging against the sheets as my back arched high away from the bed. My hands slapped against the bed, my legs trembling as I rode his face. Lost to the world, Mike is the only thing that grounds me, his fingers gently tracing patterns against the insides of my thighs while he watched me come undone with nothing but love and pride in his eyes.

He didn't relent, releasing my clit to lap up my glistening cum eagerly before returning to the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against it before sucking it once more, bringing me back to the same edge as I begged for mercy.

"Gonna scream, gonna scream, gonna-" my harsh whispers turned into a scream once more as I cum again, my hands finding his dark curls to force him to stay against me, my hips grinding harshly to fuck my clit into his mouth properly. His eyes relaxed, looking completely lovesick as I muttered rapid praises to him, tugging on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water. He moaned seemingly with no control against me, face red as he obeyed with no complaint.

"So good," I tell him. "Taking me so well. Letting me fuck your face like I own you. Fuck my face."

I felt his fingers find my entrance, slipping two inside of me with no hesitation as cum dribbled out of me. I clenched around his digits, my voice breaking as he massaged my top wall, searching inside of me to help me find a new peak. He moaned against my clit, eyes wide and begging for more as he watched me carefully. When his fingers brushed against that perfect spot, the one that makes me fall silent, he knows he's struck gold. His fingers begin slamming into my g-spot, curling and fucking me until I screamed out one more time, my body going limp as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It's like I speak in tongues, the only language I'll probably ever be able to speak again after what he's done to me. I shake terribly as he sucks a few more smaller orgasms out of me, milking me for all I'm worth before pulling away, standing tall and chuckling as he slipped his middle and ring finger into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. His face and chest are covered with me, the shine of his gold ring dulled from the dried cum. He pulled his soaked shirt off of himself, flinging it into a corner before walking around to the side of the bed, gently sitting down next to my head to stroke my forehead.

"You okay?" He asked gently, smiling proudly. I moan in response.

"Need some water?" He asked, leaning closer to press a kiss to my cheek. I can smell myself on him, thick and heady. I moan again, trying to nod but unable to. "Maybe a snack?"

At that I grab at him, pulling him closer to press his lips against mine. He allowed it, humming happily against me as he gives me a gentle kiss, loving and careful as though I could break easily. I probably could.

I whined when he pulled away, but I'm instantly sated as he scooped me into his arms, pulling me against his chest to rest us properly against the headboard of our bed. He leaned over to open a drawer on his nightstand, pulling out one of the water bottles we kept in there. Carefully he moved me into a better sitting position, then opened the bottle and held it against my lips.

"Drink," he said softly. I accept it, gulping the cold liquid as my senses begin to return to me one by one. "Good girl."

Once I finished he placed it on top of the nightstand, then held me to his chest once more to lay against the bed.

"Good warm-up?" He asked me.

"Not entirely sure that didn't do the trick right there," I said. My voice is rough, threatening to break with each word. Mike laughed loudly, his chest rumbling against my ear.

"That good?" He asked, smiling widely.

"I'm ruined for anyone else," I told him. His fingers grazed my jaw, tilting my face to meet his eyes.

"Good."

His lips are gentle as they guide me back into a kiss. It's me who deepens it, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, silently pleading for him to continue. He takes the hint, one hand holding the back of my neck to keep my mouth close, the other trailing down my chest, fingers making quick work of the clasp on the front of my bra. He pushes the item away, cupping my right breast gently as his thumb gently strokes across my nipple, making it harden underneath his calloused touch, making me gasp.

"So sensitive," he remarked, smirking. "Could do anything to these and you'd be my willing bitch. Such a pretty girl."

I moaned eagerly into his mouth, tugging at his hair and pressing my chest against his touch. He adjusts my body, guiding me to straddle his lap properly as he guided the robe off of my shoulders, letting the material fall to my elbows. He pulled away from the kiss, admiring the hickies adorning the column of my throat.

"So pretty," he mused. His finger trailed from under my chin to the valley of my breasts, then back up again. "Do you know how pretty you are?"

"You tell me every day," I laughed softly, blushing. He hummed, his arms moving to support my upper body as he leaned me back.

"Doesn't mean you know," he said. He sucked new dark spots onto my chest, continuing his trail until it ends at the bottom of my ribcage. "Dressed so pretty for me, wearing nothing under your pretty robe. Keeping yourself easily accessible like the pretty girl you are."

It was easily his favorite nickname for me, calling me 'pretty girl' more often than my own name. Sometimes I think he only calls me by my name just to remind me he does know it, although I won't lie that I'm disappointed when he does it. The first time he called me by his favorite name was the first time we had sex. He was balls deep and panting, desperate for air as he pumped in and out of me. I think it had slipped out by mistake, based on the way his eyes widened after he said it. He was so shy in the beginning, his inexperience obvious but not damning. It was cute.

His lips trailed from the bottom of my ribcage until he found the bottom of my left breast, accenting it with little marks wherever his mouth landed.

"You want my cock?" He asked me, breath fanning over my breast. I nodded eagerly. "Use your words," he reminded me.

"Yes please," I said quietly. He laughed against my skin, nipping close to my nipple.

"Aw, she has manners," he said sweetly. I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Don't be a brat." He chided at my response. I smiled at him.

"Or what?" I asked innocently.

"Or I'll find something else to do," he said.

"Like?" I pressed.

"Like fuck myself until there's nothing left for you to take," he said smugly.

"You're no fun."

"I'm very fun, that's why you're going to behave."

"It's more fun if I don't."

At that he latches onto my hard nipple, biting and lavving his tongue over it while moaning greedily, watching me through his dark lashes as I leaned back, pressing my chest against him as much as I could, rocking my hips against his as I lost all other thought.

"There she is," he said, his voice low and gravely. "There's my girl."

He layed me down gently, spreading my legs wide open for him. He undid his jeans, taking out his cock and stroking it while he admired me from above.

"Tempted to just watch you," he said, his hand slowly trailing up and down his throbbing length. "You look so perfect, all red and dazed."

I whined, reaching for him and wrapping my own hand around his cock, stroking him at a slightly faster pace.

"There you go," he crooned. "Get it ready."

I pumped with more vigor, watching his face as I felt him twitch under my grasp. Deciding he was satisfied he gently grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, then guided himself to my entrance.

"How do you want me, sweet girl?" He asked softly, smiling above me.

"I don't wanna remember my own name," I said quickly. "If I can walk across this room by the end of it, you need to try again."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling down at me. "Eager?" He teased.

My response is a sudden moan, my cunt clenching around his thick cock as he sinks into me, burying himself to the hilt and making me feel as though he'll split me in two.

"You're tight," he groaned in my ear. "You want it fast?"

"Yes."

He grabbed the back of my knees, pressing them to my shoulders as he pistoned in and out of me rapidly, moaning at the feeling of my cunt swallowing him eagerly, clenching at every vein, every inch, slick and desperate for his seed.

"It'll take better like this," he moaned. His jaw is slack, panting as his balls slap against my ass, heavy and making me clench with each thrust. "Been thinking about this so long.'

I tried to respond, but all that escapes me are the tongues from earlier, moaning gibberish as all I can focus on is him fucking me into stupidity.

"You'd look so pretty with a baby on your hip. My baby," he groaned. His tip finds my g-spot, making me cry out loudly.

"Right there," I chanted quickly, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Yeah? That the spot?" He asked. "Can you hold this knee for me, baby?"

My body automatically obeyed, quickly holding one of my knees right against my body as he moved his hand to settle on my lower stomach, pressing down as he fucked me hard enough to make a small bulge whenever he slammed his dick fully into me.

"So cute," he praised. "Such a pretty fuckin' pussy. You know that?" I moan, my vision and thought completely fucked.

"I keep telling you to use." Thrust. "Your." Thrust. "Words." His third pointed thrust tears a scream from my throat, making him smile. "Does this sound like a suggestion? Because I promise you that it's not."

"I have a pretty pussy," I moaned without second thought. My voice is soft and frail as I chant the phrase over and over, not stopping even as he cooed sweet praises in my ear.

"Gonna look so pretty with my baby," he said. The smacking of our skin is loud, echoing through the room with each new thrust. "Maybe I'll give you another." His balls stick to my skin, tacky from my cum that drips out of me onto the newly washed sheets. "Just keep giving you my kids until I can't anymore. God, I hope this fucking takes."

I'm still chanting the phrase, stupid and willing to do anything so long as it means I will be rewarded with his cock. He smiled down at me, his eyes fluttering shut as my pussy swallows him whole again and again.

"Need you to cum baby," he said, his voice strained. "It'll take better if you do."

"I'm close, Mikey," I whined. It was a nickname I only used in times like these, too stupid to say his name properly.

His hand shifts lower on my belly, thumb snaking down to rub tight circles onto my hard, pulsing clit.

"Gonna make you mine. Gonna make you a mother." He is completely lost to the world, eyes shut in bliss as his thrusts grow deep and shallow, making me begin to grow quiet as I focus on my orgasm. "Jesus Christ, I love you."

A loud cry escapes me as my muscles contract around him one final time, hard enough I can tell it almost pushes him out of me completely. At the feeling of such a strong grasp Mike comes undone too, painting the inside of my cunt a pretty, pearlescent white as he unloads right next to my cervix, burying himself as deep as he can before resuming his pace with newfound vigor, moaning with every new thrust.

"Again," he moaned. His chest presses against mine, our bodies intertwined into such a tight mating press it's hard to tell where I end and he begins. "Wanna make sure it takes. Wanna make sure it takes."

I can't help but laugh in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I nodded happily, taking as much as he was willing to give me.

"I'm not gonna last long," I said, the overstimulation already turning my face red as I felt the knot in my stomach begin to tighten once more.

"Good," he growled. "I'm not gonna stop until I fucking break you."

His words send me over the edge again, my voice louder this time as I begged him to break me, to fill me, to-

Much to our immediate frustration, it turns out Abby did remember to call, making Mike yell into the bed in frustration before he slipped out of me to race to the living room, making quick work of the conversation before almost slamming the phone down in excitement, rushing down the hall once more to return to the immediate task at hand.

"Where was I?" He asked me, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he quickly climbed back on top of me.

"You were telling me you want like six kids right before damning the one we're already raising," I teased, smiling.

"Well, maybe not six," he admitted. He glanced down to my aching cunt, admiring the sight of our mixed cum leaking out before sliding his dick back inside to plug the hole. "But what's one more?"

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

This was fucking filthy. I have no apologies. Take your problems up with God, he's the one who put me on this earth.

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist ▪︎ Read the spinoff!

[scoonsalicious]

Since I'm on a posting break until the 23rd so I can write, I thought I'd entertain you with some Unwanted: Unusables, or, early drafts from the fic that didn't make it into the final cut.

This first one is from an early draft of Chapter 5: Unprofessional. A little bit about the draft: In the beginning, Pocket and Bucky were never meant to actually get into a relationship. They were just FWB until Jade came along (who had many in between names, like Emily, Jewel, Sage, etc., and was NOT supposed to be crazy evil, just... kind of a bitch), and the plan was for only Pocket to catch feelings at first, and for Bucky to sleep with Jade in Russia because he actually liked her and wanted to, and to come back to the Tower with her as his girlfriend and kind of leaving Pocket in the dust.

Obviously, this isn't what ended up happening. I couldn't help myself. I needed these two idiots in love. With that in mind, please enjoy these next few days of "Unusables." This particular one starts off with Pocket going back to her room after giving Jade her Tower tour.

I'm actually scheduling all of these before I start my break, lol, so don't worry-- by the time you read this, I'll be writing more WFLT...

You made it back down to your suite in record time and were delighted to find Bucky sitting in one of your arm chairs, an open copy The Times in his hands.

"Hey there, soldier," you said as you kicked off your heels. You raised your skirt as you approached him, giving your legs the freedom they needed to straddle his lap as you sat down in front of him.

He didn't look up from his paper, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, hello there, Pocket." His metal hand came up to rest on your knee, fingers tracing circles on your skin. The touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" you asked with a smirk.

Bucky snorted, finally looking up from his paper, one eyebrow raised. "Mouth like that, did they let you into this fancy building, or did you just sneak in through the vents?"

You smiled, tracing the lines of his face with your fingers. "Maybe I just I crawled up through the sewer line," you teased, putting a kiss to his jawline.

"That's my dirty girl," he grinned. You looked at him. You knew he was only teasing you, but he'd called you his girl.

And damn if that wasn't doing something to your insides.

"You okay, Doll?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You nodded, trying to push away the seemingly overwhelming emotions that were stirring within you. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought for a minute; Jewel Carthage is upstairs meeting with Steve and Tony right now. They'll be

coming down to the common room to introduce her to everyone once they're finished."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Jewel's interview was today." Bucky's tone was completely unconvincing. "It completely slipped my mind."

"Oh, we lying to each other now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light and your insecurity at bay. It was totally fine for him to express interest in getting to know a potential new member of the team, you reminded yourself. Totally fine and not a complete rejection of you at all. Okay, who was the liar now?

"Absolutely not," his voice was now deep with sincerity. "Never." You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, but he leaned back and asked:

"So, how did the tour go? What was she like?" You debated whether or not to tell him about what she'd said about him, but decided against it. You found you didn't want him feeling flattered by her disgusting line of questioning, and the fact that you were censoring what you said to him made you feel gross.

"Can't say I was a fan," you told him. At least that was the truth. Just not all of it. "I found her to be incredibly unprofessional and, honestly? Kind of a bitch."

"Hey," Bucky gently chastised, "give the kid a break. She was probably freaking out. It's hard being the new kid in the Tower, you know?" You shrugged; you didn't know, really. You'd been with Tony from the beginning. Bucky went on: "Remember how much of an ass I was when I first met you?" he asked, then impersonating himself, said: "'What the hell kind of name is Pocket?'" You nodded, giggling as you remembered. "But you looked past my obnoxious nerves and I wormed my way into your heart and now you're my best friend and you're stuck with me forever." You nodded, laughing at the memory.

"Well, you're lucky I wanna be stuck with you forever," you told him without thinking.

"Is that so?" he asked, voice growing thick.

"Ugh, don't let it go to your head, Barnes." You buried your head into his shoulder to cover your embarrassment, only for him to put his hands on your hips and roll your core across his clothed erection.

"Oh, it definitely went to my head, Doll," he said as he drew your hips together again, eliciting a moan from deep within you. "I just can't confirm which one." The friction was delicious, and you put your hands on his shoulders to find purchase as you began grinding against him in an increasing rhythm.

"Fuck, Pocket," Buck grunted as he thrust his pelvis up into yours, "how can you feel this fucking good before I can even get inside you?"

"Jesus, Buck," you gasped as you felt the length of him drag along your covered slit, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit every time he pulled you forward, "just like that... Harder, please, God, please.' You were panting, desperate for the release that you were chasing. "You feel so good. God, so fucking good."

Bucky took his metal hand off of your hip and gripped your chin. "Come here," he growled, pulling your lips to his in a desperate kiss as he continued grinding you against him.

"Gonna make me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager," he moaned. His hand gripped the back of your head, pulling your forehead against his. "You're so fucking sweet, Pocket." You loved the words that came out of his mouth the more he came undone beneath you, and the fact that you were the one doing it to him made you feel incredibly powerful.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)," FRIDAY's voice filled your room, causing Bucky to halt his movements, "Mr. Stark is requesting you and Mr. Barnes in the common room for Ms. Carthage's team meet and greet in fifteen minutes."

You groaned, trying to pull Bucky closer so you could chase his lips in spite of the interruption, but he moved his head away.

"We should head up, then, huh?" Bucky gently moved to tug you off of his lap.

"We could be a little late," you said, reluctantly standing up and straightening your skirt. "There's no rule that says we have to be perfectly punctual. Let me at least get you off before we go up." You started to kneel in front of him, reaching for his belt, but Bucky stood up, stopping you.

"I don't want to be rude," he said, reaching up and freeing your hair from its bun, running his fingers across your scalp.

"Oh, God," you murmured as you leaned into his touch, "that feels fucking amazing." He brought his other hand up and began massaging your scalp with both hands, gently tugging at the roots of your hair. The sensation immediately relaxed you.

After a few moments, you felt his hands pull away. Cupping your face, he smiled at you. "Why don't I head up now, and you can get changed and meet me?"

You checked your watch; he really hadn't given you much of a choice at this point.

But then, he abruptly stopped and stepped back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, doll, we should probably behave ourselves for now." He pulled away and returned to his discarded copy of The Times. You tried to hide your disappointment. He hadn't initiated any intimate contact with you since the day he had seen Jewel's file almost two weeks ago. You were started to take it a little personally.

You had never really thought of him as anything more than your best friend (and someone you had mind-blowing sex with), but lately, there had been moments where you couldn't stop thinking about him. Moments where his touch felt electric, or his voice made you feel something deep in your core.

It was confusing, and part of you was terrified at the idea of giving in to those feelings. But another part of you wondered if maybe there was something worth exploring there. If maybe you were ready for something real.

But his recent distance had given you pause. Had you done something off putting? He had seemed to really enjoy the blow job you'd given him that night, which was the last time the two of you had done anything that could be remotely described as sexual. You made a promise to yourself to broach the topic with him when you both got ready for bed later in the evening, after the meet and greet with Jade was over and you could put her out of both of your minds, for good.

[ciaossu-imagines]

No offence but why should people have to pay for stuff from you when 99% of creators on here would post the same things for free

Well, I really debated just deleting this. I really did. Or plain out blocking this anon. Because I really do try to ignore negativity in the inbox, truly, and normally do delete it. But I'll answer this one, in a mo', after I first say...putting no offense in front of an ask that is meant to be rude, to either hurt my feelings or make me feel bad, doesn't suddenly make it inoffensive. In fact, pretty much guaranteed that if you feel the need stick 'no offense' in front of something, you know it'll be offensive, or at the very least, rude, and you're trying to excuse a dick move. Question too...are you sending this ask to every fanartist accepting commissions too, or just the writers? My guess is a solid no, but hey, maybe you can prove me wrong.

Next point - nobody should be paying me anything right now. My commissions are temporarily closed. I'm not really accepting any at the moment because I'm on day 10 of a stretch of 12 days at work before I have one day off, after which I pull another 12 days before I get 2 whole days off. I'm struggling to find time to finish the two commissions I do have and to write to build up the queue on here again so I can continue to put out things on here again. I'm pulling at least one all-nighter a week just to make progress on those two things.

Again - free stuff. Because I definitely do offer lots of that. Commissions are done on top of me writing plenty for free, not instead of. It's simply not as long, or as detailed, and has rules around what I'll comfortably write.

Now onto actual commissions. All but two of the commissions I've handled have been incredibly personalized, either match ups for the actual person on the other side of the screen or working with people's self-inserts or OCs. The two that weren't were for incredibly rare pairs that don't have a lot of people writing for them (ShouheixYata from K Project and Sherlock Holmes (novel version) x Hiruma Yoichi from Eyeshield 21. Please show me even 5% of tumblr routinely putting out content for those pairings because I would enjoy reading anything from them.

For my match ups, smutty ones are at least 5 pages, while romantic and platonic ones have never gone below 7 pages and have, at times, gone as long as 15 pages and include intensely thought out explanations of why they're compatible with that character, what the relationship would be like, how the commissioner fits into the Canon universe, and at least 3, usually more other characters they could be compatible with, how those characters would know the commissioner and fit into their story and why the relationship might not work. I struggle to find blogs willing to do matchups even half that length and intricacy so please, direct me to the 95% of writers that will do that for free.

For my stories, the shortest I've done was 10 pages where I made a whole $1 per page. The longest has been 65 pages where I made $50. They all also come with a music mix and a storyboard with alternate ways the story could have gone and at least 5 new headcanons about the OC and the ship. Please, again, direct me to the 95% of tumblr writers willing to do that for someone else's self-insert ship or OC ship for free, of that length, with the extras. Most writers I know might occasionally write a friend's OC but not just anyone's and usually not 30-60 pages for them.

Long story short, I don't force anyone to commission me. If you don't want to and just want to enjoy the free stuff, that's perfectly cool with me! If you don't like that I take commissions, block me. If you feel everything I write is so generic and boring that 95% of other writers have wrote the exact same thing, my blog isn't for you, block me.

[yourfavstaytiny]

Stay With Me

San x Reader

18+ Smut Warning~ Minors DNI

You ask San to take your v!rginity.

Word Count: Almost 3k

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Hey, this is my first time posting. This story isn't edited.

*Not meant to depict any member of Ateez in real life, more of a face claim. Enjoy <3

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“I just don’t want to look stupid, but I want the experience,” you whisper, looking down in shame as you feel heat spread across your cheeks. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, and you feel sweaty despite the air conditioning that chilled the apartment. You take in the silence from the man in front of you, scared to look up and see the reaction your thoughtless confession may have caused. 

A few more seconds pass before you feel a large hand under your chin, lifting your face. You hoped your shakiness wasn’t noticeable. “If you’re sure, I’ll do it,” San says. He seems to search your eyes for something before leaning back against the couch, patting his lap. “Come here.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you wondered if you were in a dream. You’d been debating asking him for help in losing your virginity for a while, but you didn’t want to risk it. Now you were in his apartment, and although he’d thought you were joking for a good five minutes, he seemed to agree, considering his last statement. He brushed his dark hair back, his eyes full of expectation. 

You opened your mouth to say something, before deciding against it. You stood up, walking up to him slowly, eyes focused on his gray sweatpants. Sensing your nervousness, he sits up, gently grabbing your hips and pulling them towards him. His face was close to you, and you could feel his breath on your lower stomach. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, moving his fingers to unbutton your jeans.

Your head spun when he began pressing soft kisses to your belly, lowering your shorts gently. His hands moved to the back of your thighs, leaving your underwear on. You breathed in deeply, trying to calm your breathing so he wouldn’t know how easily responsive you were to his simple touch. He pulled you onto him slowly, taking a moment to look into your eyes. He began pressing kisses down your jaw, avoiding your lips since you had never cleared a line for it. You rest your head back a little more, giving him access to your neck. You began grinding down on him instinctively, grabbing his shoulders, feeling heat beginning to form in your lower belly where he had been kissing you just moments before. 

A low whine escaped your mouth, and you fought back the little whimpers as he butterfly kissed the space between your breasts. He’d pulled your tank top down, placing one of his hands to cup your left one. You could feel him twitching beneath you, growing harder as you grinded more roughly into him. “Take this off, please,” he says, and you lift your shirt off embarrassingly quickly, eager to allow him to touch you closer. You unclip your bra, removing it more gently to give him a full view. Any anxiety you had held in the moments before was starting to be replaced by a deep desire, your breath quickening as you watched him take off his own shirt. He observed you carefully, taking in the image of you barely dressed, thighs spread on his lap, a wet spot on his sweats, pupils dilated. His eyes swirl with need and it just makes your pussy feel wetter, feeling it pulse around nothing. 

You grabbed his face, snapping him out of his daze, repeating the kissing that he had just done on you. You placed wet kisses all over his face and on the corner of his lips, grinding down on him faster. Am I allowed to kiss him? Would that really be what crosses the line in our friendship when I want nothing more than to fuck him?  You ignored the thoughts you were having, instead opting to tug on the waistband of his pants. “Take these off, too,” you say breathlessly. 

He hesitates, before grabbing your waist and gently helping you move off him. He pulls down his pants, leaving them thrown on the floor in front him. Without thinking, your eyes are led directly to where you had been sitting just a second before, seeing a large tent in his boxers. God. “San,” you whisper, your breath catching. He looks up at you, raising his eyebrows. “Hmm?” You shake your head, your face feeling ten times warmer. “Let’s go to my room,” he says, reaching his hand out to him. You allow him to lead you, the puddle in your panties growing when he pushes you to sit on the bed, turning on the lamp beside you. You admire his sharp jawline, his broad shoulders, and when he looks down at you and smirks, a small whimper makes its way out of your mouth. 

His smirk only grows, and you lean back on your hands, watching as he bends between your legs. He tugs on the band of your underwear, looking into your eyes for silent permission. You nod, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He pulls them off, feeling the dampness as he tosses them to the side. You close your legs on instinct, the cold air of the room hitting you. 

He pushes your legs open, pulling one of them over his shoulder, “I want to see.” He observes you, and your heart skips a beat, suddenly feeling self conscious. “San,” you whine again, feeling his breath on your pussy. “You’re really fucking pretty,” he says, beginning to caress and kiss your inner thighs, sucking softly on the skin. Your breath hitches, and you can’t breathe. You let out a soft moan at the sight of him between your thighs, it felt like a fantasy. His slender fingers began rubbing and down your slit, briefly brushing your clit, and your hips move swiftly towards him. He chuckles against your skin at your desperation. You tenderly grab at his hair, pulling him towards where you needed him most. 

“You seem to know what you want for someone who’s never done this before,” he murmurs, before lapping at your clit gently. You moan quietly, leaning your head back. He starts lapping at you faster, inserting a finger into your wetness. “You’re so wet,” he groans, the vibration making you grind your hips further onto his face. A tightness increases in your stomach, and you can feel your release embarrassingly close. Your face burns, and you’re now shamelessly moaning into the room, and you can practically feel him smiling as he shifts to eat you out. “Sannie, I…,” you stutter, his hands forcing you open. You pathetically whimper in his grip, his large hands feeling like they would bruise. Just before you finish, your heart beating out of your chest, he stops. 

You inhale sharply at the loss of contact, and you look at San as he wipes his mouth. You furrow your eyebrows, and he just smiles at you innocently. He opens his nightstand drawer, his face still glistening from moments prior. A wave of irritation passed through you, but your neediness grew. You moved your hand between your legs, slowly circling your clit as you watched San pull out a condom. “What do you think you're doing?” He asks, pushing your hands from their placements. 

“San, please, please,” you moan, hating the tone in your voice. San on the other hand, just seemed amused. “I didn’t know my friend would be so gorgeous yet so whiny during sex,” he clicks his tongue. He takes that time to finally take off his own underwear, and you choke. His dick was already leaking pre-cum, the size looking...“You’re so… are they usually like that?” You wonder aloud, your anxiety swiftly returning. He turns to face you, catching the look on your face. “Have you never even seen a man naked?” He asks, watching how you rub your thighs together as you avoid his eyes. He reaches out to you, placing his hand on your upper thigh. “Are you okay with this? I can get you off another way if you change your mind.” You feel the throbbing in your core and take it as your answer, shaking your head. “Say you want it, please,” he lifts your eyes to him once again. “Yes, I do. I want it, please, I really do,” you rush, the burning sensation in your belly feeling stronger. 

He nods, and you can’t help but stare as he rolls the condom on, fighting the urge to touch yourself at the sight. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way that his cat eyes glistened. His skin was smooth and his smirk was captivating in a way that you knew would affect you even after this was over. In a way you would have to forget after this was over. 

He pats the pillows beside him, gesturing for you to lay there. You crawl over, laying with a deep breath. He shifts so that his large frame sits between your thighs, giving you a soft smile as if he wasn’t about to fuck you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says, voice sounding more genuine than ever, before placing one of his hands beside your head to prop himself up. You nod silently, attempting to steady your breathing. The sheets felt chilly beneath you, and you grabbed San’s shoulders like you had on the couch to ground yourself a little from the way your heart was beating out of your chest. He rubs his dick up and down your slit in a teasing motion, your wetness allowing him to glide against you easily, and you wiggle your hips slightly when the head touches your bundle of nerves. 

“Just breathe,” he whispers, starting to kiss your neck slowly. He begins lowering himself into you steadily. You inhale, trying not to focus too much on the slight sting and instead on the moist kisses San littered all over your chest. He ran his hands through your hair comfortingly and you whimpered softly, feeling your eyes start to burn, threatening with tears. You can feel him stretching your walls, and your legs shake slightly. You breathe in deeply again, shifting your hips a little more to try and get used to the feeling. San, having heard your choked breathing, looks up from sucking on your breasts. He pauses, and a few warm tears slip from your eyes. “Are you okay?” You see his eyebrows furrow, concern flashing in his eyes. “Y-yeah,” you nod, your voice surprisingly steady. “It feels good, I’m just not used to it.” He wipes your tears with his thumb, nibbling on your jaw affectionately, and you rub his arms, feeling his veins and how his muscles twitch under your hold. 

Your thoughts wander a little, wondering if something like this would ever happen again. Feeling his plush lips on your body, the way they kiss every part with so much passion and care makes you wonder if you were just caught up in the moment or if kissing him was something you had wanted to do for a long time. “God, you’re so pretty, you really are,” he repeats, panting in your ear. “You feel so good, tell me when I can move.” You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you’d barely felt the rest of him entering you. You felt full, and you rotate your hips before nodding at him. Your heart skips even more at his praise, the idea of him finding you so pretty he would mention it more than once making your face burn even more. 

His thrusts start off slow, with him watching your every facial expression closely, face inches from your eyes. You moaned softly, trying to quiet yourself without his knowledge. As he speeds up, he grabs a hold of the headboard above you, before deciding to place a pillow under your hips to lift them. The new angle made you moan a little loader, the sound filling the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise was the sound of the AC, a low buzzing that didn’t seem to make a difference considering the sweat that clung to both of your foreheads. 

He panted quicker, groans escaping his lips as he increased his pace into you. The stinging was completely gone, replaced by the feeling of the heat you had felt while San was eating you out. “San,” you moaned, and he rested his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as you struggled to keep them open. Another tear ran down your face, and you made little sobbing noises, but before he could ask, you began fucking him back, moving your hips to match his pace. You were close, he could tell by the way your walls pulsed around him and your breaths were getting higher pitched and even whinier than before.

 “Your moans are so hot,” he groans into your ear, his thrusts getting sloppier. His pace became slightly more relentless, a little rougher than he means to, but the sounds you were making were clearly not ones of pain or complaining. The sight of him above you, so close to you with his unreal beauty was one of your last straws, and your legs shook worse, threatening to close as the burning ache between your legs threatened to snap. 

Suddenly, San lifted the hand that had been partially supporting him the whole time, snaking it between your bodies and you gasped as you felt it start rubbing your clit, circling it at a rapid pace. His groans just seemed to get louder at the sound your wetness made against his fingers and his dick at the same time, now lifting his face from yours. “San, Sannie, I’m gonna cum,” you breathlessly say, squeezing his shoulder harder, pulling his face down towards you. He presses down on your stomach. “Cum, please cum,” he whispers against your neck. The words are enough to make you snap, and you arch against him, releasing one last whine as you cum, hard, the heat in your belly releasing. Your vision is blurry for a couple of seconds, and you can hear San groan your name as he tenses inside of you. 

You both calm your breathing, his body weight feeling heavy on you as he recovers. He rolls over, and you both lay in a comforting silence before San speaks up. “Are you feeling okay?” He cocks his head towards you, his eyes trained on your face. You sigh, turning to lay on your stomach to feel less exposed. “Yeah, thank you.” Okay. 

As you continued to look at each other, a wave of sadness flowed through you. Why do I feel so disappointed that it’s over? Why do I want him to kiss me? You brushed the thought away once again, wishing they would stop circling around your brain like flies. I’m just overly emotional, that’s all. Of course I like him, we’re friends.

San gets up, putting his underwear back on. “Do you want to take a shower?” He asks, dragging you from the swirl of thoughts in your head. “Uh, yeah.” You get up covering your chest as if he hadn’t been inside you a moment before. He smiles at your action, handing you a towel he had on top of his dresser. 

After you both showered, you rested your head on his couch as you waited for your phone to charge at least a little. His sweatpants fell off your smaller frame, feeling warm and comforting. “Are you leaving?” He questions, seeming confused by the concept. His hair was wet from the shower, redressed in all black. “Yeah, it’s late,” you say, pointing out the obvious as if he couldn’t see the moon and stars shining outside his apartment windows. The disappointment hadn’t faded, but you were dead set on maintaining this friendship, even if it meant shoving your strange feelings aside. “That’s why I thought you would stay,” he explains, his confusion never leaving as if this was the most complex thing he’d ever experienced.

You breathe deeply, picking your phone off the charger. You smile half sincerely, and you wonder if he can tell. “I don’t want to bother, I’ll see you tomorrow anyways.” He watches you stand up, picking up your bag from the couch. “Stay,” he says, a hopeful, nervous expression on his face. You observe him, looking into his dark eyes for anything, but finding only a weird genuine feeling. “Okay,” you say at last, exhaling softly as he pulls you back to his room.

“Lay with me,” he says, lifting the covers. You hesitate for only a second, before getting under them with him, his warmth completely overtaking you. He placed his arm under your head, and you cuddled closer to his chest without thinking. He wrapped his other arm around your head gently, holding you like a stuffed animal, and your heart swelled three sizes. Your legs were intertwined under the sheets, and nothing else seemed to matter. You felt so warm and so safe and time should have just stopped in that moment so you could have this feeling forever. 

“I meant it,” San says quietly. “What?” You ask, wondering what he was referring to. “All of it. You really are so pretty, and I want you to stay.” You remain quiet, unsure how to take his words. He sighs, “Sorry, if you don’t want to put feeling into this it’s fine. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” At the sound of his words you lean further into his embrace, smelling his shampoo. “It’s okay, I want to stay.”

[thyandrawrites]

I love reading your insightful thoughts on topics regarding mha and especially touya you alone bring my hype up

I just wanted to ask, after having read your rei meta (which I agree with wholeheartedly) I can't help but feel kind of a distaste towards some actions towards some members BECAUSE of the narrative framing

Rei calling her son "dabi" in the hospital scene was so distasteful considering she was ready to forgive her husband after everything but it almost narratively seems she holds no such regard towards the son whose demise she took part in regardless of intention

Also in the mental hospital scene where fuyumi was telling that "natsuo is the only one who isn't letting begones be begone" like hello? we are talking about you dead brother who mer his end due to your father's actions?

I don't know I am pretty sure it's because of horikoshi and I shouldn't think like this blaming the characters because he is the writer after all but the way he writes rei and fuyumi sometimes is so distasteful to me that I almost wish touya never returns to that home where he was labeled a black sheep simply for being self aware because of how they used him as a scrapegoat especially in the hospital chapter

Ps i am well aware touya will probably reunite with his family and all will be well but it's the narrative choices that kind of make me dislike them even endeavor who is pathetic is at leadt enjoyable to read in a sense that he stays true to character to an extent. Shouto is on the way of reaching an epiphany about how to reach his brother as family instead of a hero so i still have hope for him and natsuo is still true to character kind of in the hospital chapters but fuyumi and rei got me fighting against everything in me to not dislike them. Even toga and freaking afo calls him touya but his family is stuck with dabi like bffr

Hey! First of all, thank you for reading my stuff! I'm glad it can bring you some positivity in these otherwise trying times as a Touya stan. 

Now, to answer you... I debated how best to approach this reply, because there's a number of ways I could go about this. But you specifically mentioned the framing, so I'm gonna build my argument on that. 

So. How is Horikoshi framing Touya in the eyes of the Todofam? As you said yourself, they’re treating him like the black sheep to Shouto's golden child, and uniting to stop him. 

From what I understand, though, you seem dissatisfied with the execution because you think that while every other fam member acts coherent about either blaming or wanting to rescue Touya, the Todoroki women are outliers because they have instances where they go back on that resolve to save him to blame Touya instead. 

Am I getting this correctly? 

If so, I think there is a problem with that conclusion. It's not just the women who go back and forth, and in fact, I think Rei and Fuyumi are the mildest ones of the bunch. But for reasons that I'm going to dissect later, I also think the fandom… latches on to them as exceptions, and in the process doesn't understand that it's meant to be a family narrative in which all of them are imperfect. 

(putting this under a cut for length)

I think it’s important to remember that all the Todorokis agreed that Touya needs stopping. Not just Rei and Enji, or not even just the two heroes, Shouto and Enji. All of them gathered in that hospital room to discuss family matters, and they reached that conclusion as a collective decision. 

Now, I’m stressing this because the language they used is peculiar. We all noticed that they said that Touya needs stopping, not saving. But when it comes to the Todofam, that word carries a certain weight, and I don’t think it was used randomly here. 

As this person pointed out in this post, Touya was always asked to “stop” whenever his self-awareness or his attempts to be acknowledged disrupted the family dynamics. This is less apparent if you haven’t checked out the revised flashbacks in chapter 302. But the fact that Horikoshi went back to alter the storyboard and narration for the tankobon release means he wanted to draw more attention to something, to make it clearer for the audience. And indeed, the why becomes clear when we see Shouto confront Dabi and echo the same words: “please, stop.”

[source]

The Todorokis haven’t yet reached a place where they can fully sympathize with Touya. In Shouto’s case, it’s because he doesn’t know his brother; he can empathize with Touya’s circumstances, but not with Touya’s reasons. After all, Shouto is a successful creation. He never faced the brunt of the entire family’s blame and disappointment. As a result, he doesn’t understand that this approach is doomed to fail, because it echoes the scoldings Dabi’s used to. 

Whenever someone tried to reason with Touya, it was always framed as if the root of Touya’s unhappiness (and the family’s by extension) was his refusal to quit his ambitions. Basically, they told him that it was his fault, and not his father’s for putting those ambitions in him. Even if it’s Enji who’s guilty of rewriting Touya’s sense of self around an impossible goal, the one who’s held accountable for it is the victim. 

Not only do they all ask Touya to stop over and over (and not his father), but Touya’s also blamed for the fallout of Enji’s abuse. First, he was framed as the reason for Enji to keep making replacements, then for why Enji isolated Shouto from his siblings. It’s always because of him. Because Touya couldn’t quit. 

Even now that the family supposedly knows better, they’re still struggling to move on from that pattern. Just like how back then Touya was always singled out as the disruption, as the element of unrest, Dabi is still pushed into this role. Except now he’s singled out as the disruptive element that exacerbates not only the inner dynamics of the family, but of society as a whole. Once again, his refusal to stop is making things worse for everyone willing to just lay down and take it in silence. Because of it, he’s not regarded with sympathy. Instead, all the flaws he addresses are his responsibility to bear. It doesn’t matter if those issues existed before him. He becomes the suitable scapegoat.  

Now, all of these are things you seem well aware of. But you still singled out Fuyumi and Rei as subjects of your ire, and I don’t think that’s entirely fair. If this was something we could blame just on one character, or just on Rei and Enji as parents, we wouldn’t have heard the same words repeated by multiple family members. We would’ve at least seen someone push back against them. 

Instead, even Shouto is still torn between seeing Touya as a villain and as his older brother. Linkspooky wrote an excellent post on this recently that I encourage you to check out. 

This makes sense for him because Dabi was just a villain to him until a while ago. He has no solid memories of Touya because as a kid he wasn’t allowed to exist in the same room as his siblings. Yet, he has several memories of his brother as an enemy. He fought against him. Dabi kidnapped his classmate. So that mental divide is at least somewhat justified. It’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that your presumed dead brother, who you only saw as a normal kid in your sparse memories, committed atrocities and tried to kill you and your dad (and himself). 

However, I also think this divide works on a societal scale as well. During the present arc, we’ve seen the hero kids struggle to reconcile the idea of the League as victims with the crimes they’ve committed. Those two sides should coexist; one doesn’t exclude the other. Hurting people doesn’t mean someone can’t have hurt you first. The kids seem aware of this, unlike the rest of society. They see the League’s victimhood. The problem is, they still think in terms of which side weighs in more, which one deserves more of their heroic efforts. And because the people they’ve hurt are multiple, while their victimhood only involves a single person, the good of the many always ends up being more important than showing sympathy. 

This is what happens with Uraraka, for example. She remembers Toga’s tears, and wants to help her smile, but because Toga is part of the League and wreaked havoc in several cities with the PLF, killing many innocents… that sympathy becomes conditional. So Uraraka looks at the destroyed landscape to remind herself that there’s also another side of Toga. One less worthy of her concern. One that deserves it, because this suffering she’s experiencing is Toga’s own fault. If Toga wants to live her version of a happy life, she tells her, she also must be ready to live with the consequences. 

This sentiment is the same that Shouto later directs at his brother. You can’t blame dad for the lives you took, he tells Touya, because you did those things, not Endvr. They are your own fault. 

The problem with this approach is that it asks victims to put their shit together on their own, for everyone else’s convenience, without anyone else involved in fixing a broken system. And most importantly, it also asks victims to face the consequences of their actions, while also turning around and not holding abusers accountable for their own. 

The fact that this idea is explored through Toga and Shigaraki as well makes me think it goes beyond the Todofam’s dysfunctionality. But to bring this back to them… 

Do I think it’s distasteful that the framing treats Touya this way? Yes. It hurts to watch on a near constant basis, even when I know there’s likely a reason for it. But at the same time, I dislike on principle when people hold Rei and Fuyumi to a higher standard than the men in the house for displaying character flaws. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not accusing you of purposeful malice or anything like that. You're clearly struggling against your instinctive dislike, and you came here to discuss it, so I presume you're looking for reasons to either reinforce it, or to let go of it. I hope that by the end of this, you will find some more reasons to be kind to them regardless of the quality of the writing. 

What I’ve noticed during my time in this fandom is a certain... expectation, almost...? for women to always perform the role of "perfect victims", with the penance of getting the brunt of the fandom's anger when they don't. 

What does that even mean? 

In short, women in fiction aren't given the same leniency as their male counterparts when it comes to displaying said flaws. While for men having any is typically regarded as a good thing because it gives the character depth, when women do something “wrong,” they get crucified. 

I believe this happens in the bnha fandom as well, particularly amongst Todofam stans. While Shouto, Natsuo and Touya are all allowed to be imperfect, and their rough edges get widely recognized as faucets of trauma, Fuyumi and Rei aren't given the same sympathy. 

As I mentioned above, Shouto gets to be undecided and to direct unkind words to his brother without the same backlash from fans. Natsuo is allowed to put faith in Enji because he shows reluctance to trust his old man. But the women are hated because they take a less belligerent approach to Enji’s atonement. 

I believe that the reason why so many fans struggle to like Fuyumi and Rei is because they misread them. Their lack of outright hostility is widely interpreted as forgiveness, when in fact, it’s not quite written that way. I find that equating their willingness to let Enji try to be a better person with forgiveness is a flattening of their depth as abuse survivors. 

I think much of the blame Rei faces isn’t actually rooted in anything particularly bad she did in canon. Most of the things we can blame her for are also things that Enji did alongside her, and Enji did them with far more cruelty and selfishness. But! I also think that some people have an instinctual dislike of her because she’s written with a lot of stereotypes of submissive femininity in mind, and that understandably makes a lot of folks uncomfortable. 

What I’ve seen is that because Enji is a pos, people have turned to Rei in hopes she could be a better parent, or someone okay-ish enough to make up for the bad, you know? And that’s totally fair. I’ve done the same. But I also think that in the process, people sort of created this idealized version of her that then didn’t live up to her canon characterization. They—perhaps subconsciously—wanted her to be a good victim and a good mom, when she’s meant to be neither. I think she’s more nuanced than that, and that perfect victims don’t really exist anyway. 

But because they expected her to balance out Enji’s bad, they don’t really know what to make of a character who’s now written to parallel him in many ways. While she did not hit her kids, she still hurt them in other ways. While she tried her best to oppose her husband’s will, she still didn’t oppose it in a way that mattered when it came to Touya’s mental well-being in particular. Just like Enji, she was shown to be neglectful and avoidant of her eldest.

This makes her a nuanced character. Just like Touya, she can have done horrible things and still be a victim because the two things can coexist. But expecting her to be just one over the other, ironically, results in the same scapegoating Touya’s being subjected to by the narrative. 

The fact that she’s a victim and that she ended up hurting others as a result of unaddressed and spiraling mental health problems aren’t factors that are battling for dominance. You’re not supposed to look at her and think “the bad she’s done outweighs the good, hence she doesn’t deserve any sympathy.” If you’re not doing that for Touya, why are you doing it for her? 

To address the one complaint you mentioned about her, the fact that she calls her son “Dabi.”

She does that once. 

In fact, if you look at it closely you’ll notice something interesting. She calls him “Dabi” when she’s thinking of him as a villain. When the topic of fighting comes up, and with it, the emotional baggage that “stopping” Touya already has as an ongoing theme. But Rei also calls him “our son” when she’s apologizing to Hawks for the burns, and she calls him “Touya” when she’s confronting Enji. To me, this confirms the idea I talked about above, the mental divide that makes it harder to reconcile the villain with the crying boy they remember. Rei, like Shouto, loves Touya, but her reaction isn’t perfect because she’s an imperfect victim living in a flawed world. 

In the grand scheme of things, the issue with the framing of Touya as a bad sheep does exist, but I don’t blame it on Rei specifically. I think there’s a fundamental difference between her calling her son “Dabi” that one time versus Enji privately thinking of Touya as a mass murderer. 

Putting this out there for those who can’t read japanese. The word (in kanji) Enji uses here reads tairyousatsujinsha. Which means indeed “mass murderer.” We only know that he’s even referring to Touya because the furigana (which typically shows the actual reading of the word in kanji) reads a different word, musuko, “son.” 

So, sure, might be more internally coherent as an asshole who can’t face his actions, but getting angry at Rei for calling Touya “Dabi” seems rather… mean-spirited imho, when it’s not even on the same magnitude of alienation Enji shows for the blood of his blood here. He doesn’t even call him the more generic word for villain. Not his chosen villain moniker, either. He goes straight for the moral upper ground of calling attention to Dabi’s crimes, when he can’t even properly own up to his own.  

Anyway. Moving on, there’s also the topic of Fuyumi. You mentioned that her line “letting bygones stay bygones” was in the hospital chapters, but I couldn’t find it there. Were you by chance referencing this?

because if so, I believe the above panel on the left comes from a fan scanlation. If you compare it to the official Viz translation, her words don't carry quite the same edge. Now, the wording is similar enough that it might be an instance of Viz correcting the release at a later date (it has happened before. Japanese is a tricky language). 

But since you quoted this line, let’s discuss the nuance. 

In the picture on the left, Fuyumi appears less sympathetic towards Natsu. It reads like she's blaming him for being too stubborn to let the past go, while also minimizing the extent of his trauma as something that can be just… brushed off. As something that should stay in the past. 

As opposed to that, the version on the right puts more emphasis on the process of grieving, on Natsuo's mental well-being. "Can't seem to let go" still carries the same implication that closure on Touya’s death is desirable, but her phrasing is soft enough that it comes across like she's sad about Natsuo’s sadness. Like she wishes he'd let himself find some peace, after all this time.

I'm bringing up both these versions because I wanted to compare and contrast them to the original. See, the jp text says this: 

Which translates to: "Only Natsuo can't lower his raised fist." 

Being fair to the eng translation, all these versions more or less say the same thing. She's still singling out Natsuo for reacting differently from the rest of them. Which does indeed seem like she’s blaming him for it.

However, the original wording has a completely different nuance imho. By bringing attention to his raised fist, Fuyumi is commenting on Natsuo using anger as a coping mechanism to deal with his grief. The emphasis then is not so much on whether or not she thinks he should "let go" or "let bygones be bygones," but on the fact that Natsuo is stuck in that defense position. His fists are permanently raised, and he cannot let them lower. He's constantly poised for a fight, and as a result, he always slams headfirst into one. 

I think this confirms my reading of Fuyumi as a mediator, as someone trying her best to de-escalate all the fighting in the house. 

In this post I explained why I think she's stuck into a part herself. As the big sister who stepped into the role of caretaker at a young age, Fuyumi displays all the traits of someone who learned early on to fear explosive tempers, and resorted to acting like the patient one to protect her siblings. She sorta acts like a… fire-retardant blanket, so to say. She attempts to put out fires before they can get bigger by sucking out the air that keeps them alight. She’s shown doing this with Natsuo during dinner, and she’s shown often playing mediator to avoid explosive tempers from bursting. 

I think a lot of people read her as someone pursuing her idea of a perfect family because she remembers a time where things were better and wants that again. The problem with that, imho, is when people call her selfish for it. When they say she’s pressuring her brothers into forgiving Enji like she did. I find that—at least the latter part—a malicious misreading rooted in badly hidden misogyny. Why is she not allowed to want things that are at odds with her brother’s wishes, but her siblings are allowed to want things that are at odds with hers? Why is she perceived as selfish for it, but her brothers are not? And why is the reading of her as forceful in this pursuit so widespread, when she made no attempts to steer Natsuo back in both times he stormed out the room?

It seems to me like the same issue with Rei. Fuyumi needs to be a good victim and a good sister, or be crucified if she dares have flaws and imperfections. But again, just like Rei, she’s a victim as well, and she has trauma too. I think people shouldn’t presume that her feelings for her abuser are clearcut and black and white. 

I know it’s easy to dislike her because she seemingly “forgave” Enji, but so far she’s never stated that. It’s the audience’s inference that she has. The fact that she wants a shot at having a more normal family doesn’t mean she thinks Enji did a 180°. It just means she’s willing to give him a chance to be a better person, which is something that Shouto’s also shown doing. But because Shouto remains hostile while Fuyumi makes an effort to treat Enji like a person, it’s widely assumed she must have no complex feelings for her father, or that she’s okay with moving on. 

I find that an oversimplification. Don’t get me wrong, I know the Todoroki women are much less fleshed out than the men. Rei doesn’t even have a character profile yet. But because of this, I wish the fandom didn’t jump for their throat based on those few sparse lines we do have. Just because Horikoshi hates women doesn’t mean we should all follow in his example 

Let’s all allow ourselves to think these characters can have depth. To experiment and play with ideas when something’s yet unconfirmed, to headcanon and theorize and fill the gaps of missing info like we do for other (male) characters. I promise it’s much more fun than getting angry or upset at all the failings from canon

If that's not your cup of tea... that's fine, but I hope I was at least able to make you consider something you hadn't thought of before

[arayashikiii]

A Collection of Lyrics for Grunge

I've been debating whether to post this for a while, but in the end, the need and desire to honestly express my thoughts seem to have overcome my concerns.

Because I'm a non-native English speaker, the lyrics of the songs I've chosen are not in English by default.

This post is part of a series, so it will continue.

1.Happy Birthday, Kyoko (杏子)

I truly feel sorry for not being able to say things well I mulled it over a while, but I eventually fell asleep from exhaustion On the weekends, this town's air is stuffy and makes me choke, And when I sighed deeply, it was blotted out by the outdoor speakers Even when I put the words together, they're never meant to be said The voice I shout as loudly as I can into the sky over this bustling city Is my "Happy Birthday" to that person, in some faraway city

2.Oath, Hikaru Utada (誓い - 宇多田ヒカル)

This very day's without past or precedence It's an ideal day for our oath I don't need pretty flowers or witnesses Let's wear rings with the same colors Kiss me once, kiss me twice Just once isn't enough Kiss me once, kiss me twice Please give me you Kiss me once, kiss me twice Kiss me three times Please Kiss me once, kiss me twice Please give me you Let's listen to the sound of the rising sun, shoulder-to-shoulder Let's make an oath to live together

3.Wild Alliance, Ko Shibasaki (野性の同盟 - 柴咲コウ)

I miswrote a letter without any greeting The fold that I want to regard as important is bulky I crammed all of my mixed feelings into it, but as usual, I can't bring myself to send it to you I sew up this dissolute world, hoping to be rewarded We own this wildness Hey, how come we can't meet now? I want you to tell me I want to hear your voice The fact is, I knew before you even said it For you, only the silence is right

4.Pale Blue, Kenshi Yonezu (米津玄師)

That's a terribly out-of-length haute couture These frayed buttonholes I want to end this kind of crazy stage But I couldn't think of any closing remarks So I gazed at you No matter how many times I reborn, it's meaningless I want to be guided somewhere where I can meet you again I have nothing to say now, except I fell in love with you, with the pain Always, always, always

5.Love, Bluedawn (사랑 - 푸른새벽)

A nostalgia passes by here, this place is suddenly contracted and following that road it will get crooked Silence is shrinking pale, I silently walk towards it, it is sitting curled up Oh come in, pass by me I raise up the painful body and what on earth was this? I realized that it nodded with its eyes Silence is getting pale I silently call out its name, it's still dawn inside me Suddenly I search Silence is getting pale I silently call out its name, it's still dawn inside me Oh come in, pass by me with all your strength Love is a common story, right? Like this

6.Le suite, Mitsuki Takahata (青春の続き - 高畑充希)

I want to meet you "It's exhausting to live only for myself At this age, expectations and disappointments are all too obvious." My love for you has become overwhelming I want you to strongly and deeply embrace this fragile mind and body that has no place to go, and intoxicate me Ah, as long as I can hold onto you, I'll always feel safe

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hey! I was summoned by the tags you put under my post bc I also very much enjoy discussing ethics. I might make this into its own post so I'll try to not elaborate too much...

I think that I can't just decide for everyone if the difference between doing good for the sake of goodness or in order to save oneself matters, but for me, in most cases, including Dazai's case, it doesn't.

I like to believe that morality is a choice one can decide to make, and I don't think it's fair to take that away from them, regardless on how they might feel on the inside. It's a wonderful thing to act morally because it's your "natural" tendency, but I think people also have the right to do so deliberately, for a reason that they choose, without their choice being minimised. They're two different processes for sure, but if the outcome is good, then the action is a good action, and, if being moral is a choice, then I don't think I have the right to decide that only one intention or emotion that will lead there is good enough.

Also, doing good for your own sake and for the sake of others are mutually exclusive at all. One feeds the other, and if we were to put every person's actions under such scrutiny, we would ultimately run in circles.

So, for people outside the story, I would say that the debate does matter, but for the sake of the people involved, it doesn't, because the outcome is the same, especially since Dazai is so opaque as a character, and what he really feels about the things he does is so hard to read, so at the end of the day all most of them experience is his actions.

[Post this is referring to] Thank you for your elaboration, I loved hearing your opinion on the matter!!! That's close to consequentialism, isn't it? The consequences of one's actions, how much good they produced, are telling of it being morally right or wrong. I don't necessarily agree, but that's definitely a valid way to see it!!! I personally believe one's intentions are the most relevant aspect to take into account when judging whether and action is ethically rightful or not. Note that that is judging the moral of the action itself, and not giving a judgement on the person; people can have a million reasons to act selfishly, and in my very “humans are always inherently good” worldview more often than not it's caused by society rather than an actual preference to not be altruistic. But that doesn't change the fact that even a good action, if it isn't moved by good intentions, won't ever be passable of being morally right to me. Besides, then, wouldn't the other way round work to? Someone well intentioned, who's however incompetent, and ends up with their actions putting more bad in the world– as long as they're acting with a true desire to help others for the sake of it, their actions can't be considered morally wrong for me.

To clarify, with reference to your ask; I don't think people who do something for selfish reasons, and end up doing good, are morally rightful; but if they decide to do good, well, isn't that a well-intentioned aim itself? Then I think they stop being selfish to the extension that they consciously decide they're going to do good. That's not morally reprinandable at all.

Now, regarding Dazai... Honestly, I don't think Dazai is a good person. Because he never meant to do good for the sake of it. But now, the thing is, I don't think anyone in bsd is meant to be interpreted as good or evil– nobody, not Atsushi, not Mori, no one. When it comes to bsd– I do think bsd expresses a more or less nihilist worldview. And I know pretty much everyone else disagrees with me on this, I know, I'm sorry. But I do think there lies an undergoing message that good and bad are ultimately the same, and equally meaningless– it's there in Oda saying “Neither good nor evil mean much to you”, it's there in the way it makes you root for mafiosi like they were the good guys, it's there in the way Dazai never even considered to make amends for the bad things he's done (because they were never bad to begin with, because good and bad mean nothing anyway), it's there in the way it constantly shows good people doing bad and bad people doing good in a way that basically equalises them. To me there's really no point in discussing whether Dazai is good, because he is most evidently not, but that's only because he was never meant to be interpreted as such to begin with. Please refer to this post for further details; it's not surprising at all that Dazai switching over to the “good side” didn't come with a radical change of heart, and that he basically stayed the same, because how could he become good when that's no different than being evil, and those both mean nothing anyway?

And I know most people see bsd's core theme as finding a reason to live, and maybe it is, but even then I think that wouldn't be by denying its nihilism, but rather accepting it and finding a reason to live in spite of it: to me all of bsd really sums up in “that, at least, is a little more beautiful”.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

hey, different anon here but i'm pretty sure taika is referring specifically to the lack of homophobia in the pirate world in ofmd, not the whole universe. it's unclear in that quote but he's phrased it a bit better in other interviews lol.

i mean like, even if that's the case, he's still wrong?? we spend the majority of the show with stede and his crew, where the rules are different, but we're given clues that the general pirate world isn't as welcoming and accepting as the Revenge. i doubt any pirate's gonna bat an eye if two crewmates decide to bump uglies in the hold or whatever, but the general pirate world of ofmd doesn't seem like the place where queer people can fully express themselves and their love openly and without shame. and i draw this conclusion based on three characters in the show: hornigold, calico jack, and izzy. while these three characters obviously are not on the same level as blackbeard, we're meant to see them as "real pirates" at a certain level above where stede and the rest of the crew. which is why i'm inclined to look to them as examples of how the pirate world operates

i literally made a post abt this the other day but hornigold, a mysterious figure from ed's past, comes up a lot in fandom despite only being brought up in one conversation. and that conversation literally begins with calico jack sitting down at stede's breakfast table and saying, "Just for the two of you, huh? Hornigold'd shit himself." like, a private breakfast for two men is pretty gay, and i literally can't think of a positive way to interpret that line. obviously we don't know a whole lot abt hornigold, but a man described as "such a fucking dick" who used to beat his crew members down probably wouldn't see a fancy spread of food set out for two close male friends to enjoy and be like, "yes, this is good and fine and im okay with this"

calico jack is fun bc he's literally gay, but his brand of homophobia isn't so much about "two men having sex is gross" as it is "two men being in a healthy and loving relationship is lame and pathetic and weak." he also insults stede's masculinity by calling him a girl, which is literally one of the oldest homophobic lines in the book.

and then izzy. i genuinely dont understand why this is such a topic of debate and im gonna give a short version here, but izzy upholds a specific ideal of masculinity that is very much in line with the gender roles of white colonial society: no expressing genuine emotion except through anger and/or violence, no dressing or behaving "femininely" (the definition of which is also decided by white colonial society), no expressing weakness of any kind. when it comes to ed and stede, there's more to izzy's actions than just homophobia, but literally why does he treat lucius the way he does. what is the reason. wee john is sleeping on the job but he doesn't give him shit. pete was also fucking in the store room but izzy doesn't harass him all day. his whole fucking "daddy" scene was like, a direct insight into how he views gay relationships and gay sex. this freak homophobic!!! goddamn!!!!

anyway yeah stede's ship is an exception. the general pirate world in ofmd might not give a shit who you sleep with, but the standards of masculinity are still antithetical to open and healthy expressions of queer experiences

[stolligaseptember]

hi! could you please explain why you think vegaspete cannot be murder husbands? i haven't come across any argument either for or against it so I'm curious what is the debate all about? thanks!

lmao oh no, i knew i should have put more thought into this particular tagging system. oh well, too late now.

because, okay, so, that post wasn't really meant to end up in the public tags - it was meant to stay in my own little sphere here on creating chaos. because even if the post itself is pretty straightforward and only has one throw way tag, it still needs Backstory to be understood.

because the "debate" isn't really a debate at all; it's a rant that i occasionally subject my poor followers to.

and the very first thing you need to know about me right from the bat - i'm never that serious. like 75 % of this blog is made up out of bad jokes. i may have opinions, but they are just that; My Opinions. so if you have another point of view and understanding of the subject, hey, more power to you and i love and support you forever and always.

this is my little corner of the internet though, so, with that said, and because i'm assuming you're new around here; welcome to "september's Murder Husbands rant 101".

so. i've seen my fair share of ships trying to claim the murder husbands epithet, and i have yet to see a couple come even close to earning the right to follow in the footsteps of the OG's.

because the SECOND thing you need to know about me is that i'm a Huge hannibal fan, and have been ever since the show first premiered way back in 2013. and hannigram are The Murder Husbands; like, first of all i'm territorial and that's their title and no random twinks just get to waltz in here and try to steal it from them, i won't stand for that.

second of all, they earned the title. like, it's extremely depictive. they are husbands that commit murders together, like, that's what the entire show is about. they are a couple of cold blooded murderers whose favorite couple activity is said murdering. (and then eating them. the eating of their victims is a very important point here.)

so any pairing that even wants to approach that title needs to live up to this standard.

and like i said, while vegaspete are deliciously unhinged and deranged, they just. aren't. that.

they're both killers, obviously, but they're not serial killers in the sense that they kill just to kill. they're both mafia men, and they both kill unflinchingly, but always with reasons leading back to the mafia. vegas happily kidnaps the first stray main family bodyguard he can get his hands on to torture to the brink of death, but he won't touch the random uncle on the street corner who has somehow managed to stay out of the mafia business altogether. pete will fervently gun down any of his fellow main family bodyguards as soon as they pose a threat to someone he cares for, but not a second sooner.

they don't kill indiscriminately, which in my head equals killers instead of murderers, so if anything they would be killer husbands and not murder husbands.

then there's the fact that they never killed together. which all ties back to the fact that they don't kill someone just to kill someone and that it always has a reason behind it. killing probably could be a couple's activity for them, if they found themselves back in the bowels of the mafia world again and they would have a reason to do it. but, their happy ending was not gallivanting around the world committing cold blooded murders together; their happy ending was to retire from the world that had made them killers in the first place. i'm sure they won't hesitate to kill anyone that dares try to disturb their happily ever after, but they won't go out of their way to continue killing people.

hence; no murder husbands.

and it's not so much that they can't be as in the way that we've seen them, they aren't. like, if you want to put them in a hannibal or an equally unhinged au and go hogwild, then go for it!!! i always support all expressions of lunacy. but canon vegaspete?? they just ain't it.

husbands, surely (hopefully), but without any excessive murdering.

so i adore vegaspete, they're absolutely insane, which is right up my alley. but murder husbands they are not.

[fkinavocado]

Lhh or daddy prompt... reader or OC forced to do 14 day covid quarantine at a hotel. Totally sucks, except WHO is this ridiculous specimen of a man who has the room/balcony next door??

Quarantining with a view

soooooooo i decided to combine a few of the prompts since i felt they went well together 👀 could've just been an excuse to turn this into a longer one-shot because 😅😅 apparently i can't help myself.

❗just a quick disclaimer: obviously, this isn't intended to instigate against covid regulations in any shape or form! just for the sake of reiterating a point: both characters are fully vaccinated, tested, been super safe this whole pandemic, etc you name it and are just quarantining due to standard precautionary procedures when visiting an area where the number of cases has spiked up.

Warnings: 18+, smut, slight pain kink

Word count: 4K 😅

You couldn’t believe your “luck”. What were the odds that your company would prove to be this insanely idiotic. You were sent “on field” out to another state, and your business trip had been arranged weeks ahead. However, this respective state had fallen under a higher incidence of covid cases just before you had to leave, and you thought to yourself they’d cancel it. But, nope! They still sent you! Even if it meant having to spend 14 days quarantining there on arrival, and another 14 when you returned home.

Which was absolutely baffling to you, but hey. You got paid for those 4 weeks of lying around because it was work related, after all, and that was almost a whole month of getting paid for doing nothing.

However, you still had to quarantine, which meant self-isolating at a hotel and then at home, and at home at least you had a whole post-pandemic routine you’d worked out. The hotel however was another thing altogether.

You sighed, dropping your bags at the entrance. At least it was a nice suite. They’d showed some mercy in that regard, considering you’d have to be spending 14 excruciating days there. All you could hope for now was that they had decent room service. If not, you’d have to order in and that would complicate the whole thing since your company would be paying for that also- having it all on the hotel’s bill was much easier.

But after 3 days you already felt poorly, to put it mildly. You felt imprisoned. The mere thought that you couldn’t step out of the suite (using your room card-key would show up on their surveillance, and you were meant to be quarantining there by law) really took a toll on you. You’d not had to quarantine before, and during lock-down you’d still had the possibility to step outside for a bit of fresh air on the daily using those damned forms, this however was another thing entirely and knowing that even if you did try to sneak out just for a bit of a walk after midnight when not a living soul would be disturbed, it would show up on their surveillance, and it made you turn on Netflix and re-watch Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. And it definitely hadn’t been the wisest decision you’d ever made.

On your 5th day, you finally caved in and ordered cigarettes up to your suite. You’d quit years ago, but this was a fucking emergency. You’d have lost your mind, otherwise, you were sure of it. You debated whether this “business trip” would turn you into a raging alcoholic by the end of it too.

You didn’t even bother turning on the lights when you stepped outside at 2am onto the open balcony, the only way you could experience some fresh air. Sure, you went out there mainly to smoke, but still. You sighed as you sat on the sunbed and lit your cigarette, looking at the stars- it was a clear sky. Of course the weather had to be perfect while you were isolating, but just watch as it’d for sure take a turn for the worst the minute you stepped outside at the end of those two weeks.

You chuckled to yourself and rubbed your face “Oh, God…”, you were losing your mind and it was getting to you, obviously.

“What’s so funny?” a deep, quiet voice asked from out of nowhere. You sat upright on your sunbed, what the fuck?! Surely you couldn’t hallucinate from cigarettes? Or were you so removed from civilization that you were turning into some sort of psychiatric experiment, you were starting to hear voices.

“Hm?” the voice sounded like it came from closer and before you could process it you turned your head to the left and saw a head peek from behind the balcony partition.

“Jesus, fuck!” you coughed “You scared the crap out of me!”

The man chuckled, and you knew he was a man just by the sound of his voice, you couldn’t really make out his features, all you really saw was that he had long, wavy-curly hair.

“M’sorry. But you were talking to yourself just then, right?”

“What the hell? Just mind your own business!”

“Ohh… feisty. What’s gotten your panties in a knot?”

You gasped “Excuse you? What gives you the nerve…? Sir, kindly step away from the partition. I’m quarantining”

“Sir? I mean. Whatever floats your boat” you could hear him smirking and you had the sudden urge to take that short step to the railing and yank on those curls of his “M’quarantining too. It’s only my second day though, looks like you’ve been cooked up in here longer. Will I also end up talking to myself and laughing at my own jokes by the end of this?”

“Ugh. I don’t know but maybe you’ll learn about personal space and boundaries though”

“Maybe. Can I have one of those?”

You looked at him for a long moment, you’d been avoiding doing so all this time and now that you saw him a bit more clearly you couldn’t help but notice the arm he’d flung over the railing and over to your side, his bicep flexing as his fingers rasped against the partition. His skin was glowing in the moonlight and you could see his whole arm was lettered in tattoos that you couldn’t quite make out.

You grabbed the pack and held it outstretched but he pretended like he couldn’t reach it, even though you knew he could stretch just a bit further, tall as he obviously was. You rolled your eyes and sat up, taking the necessary step towards the partition.

You waited for him to fish out a cigarette and immediately retreated earning a chuckle “I don’t bite, sweetheart”

“No, but covid does”

“I took a test just before I got here, I’m fine. I’m sure you did too. This is just an extra precaution, the quarantining. C’mon”

You knew he was right, but you also knew these things were done for a good reason so you didn’t really feel like opening up the subject just in case he was an anti-vaxxer or something.

“I’m also fully vaccinated. I’m super careful. I’m clean. Relax.”

You shrugged nonchalantly at that and watched him give you a quick once-over.

“Can I have the lighter too?”

You scoffed, sitting up again and he perched the cigarette between his lips, waiting for you to light it for him “Seriously?”

He just shrugged and you could see that smirk even with his lips busy holding the stick. You lit his damn smoke and before he could make another smart remark you went for the balcony door “I’m turning in, have a good night”

“Good night, scaredy cat”

Your mouth went agape hearing him call you that, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction.

The next day you were more than aware of this long haired man’s presence on the opposite side of the wall. You’d never heard anyone the days prior, so you had a sneaking suspicion the two of you were the only ones on this wing of the hotel considering how thin the walls turned out to be. You could hear him sing in the shower (and his voice was spectacular, if you were being honest), you could hear his electric razor afterwards, you could hear him talk over the phone even though you couldn’t make out the words, and as much as you wanted it to irk you, it was actually comforting knowing there was another living, breathing person on the other side of that wall.

You knew you were being a bit dramatic, a week was almost over, you were half way through, but you still felt extremely isolated, and, well… lonely. You’d facetimed friends, you’d been on social media, but you just missed having the freedom of doing whatever you felt like doing. Truth be told, you probably wouldn’t have done much had you just been there on vacation, apart from going to the beach maybe, getting a tan, you’d have ended up spending most of your days cooked up in the same hotel room. Single life was harsh, although you were used to it. You’d been single for a year and a half and you were sick of third wheeling with your friends that were all either married or in a relationship. There was literally no other single friend left for you to go on fun city breaks with. Did that mean you were not going to be going on trips just because you were single? Hell no. You did go, and it was… sort of fun, but it was more than just staying at home.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your “next door neighbor’s” voice that you could now hear a bit more clearly, since your door to the balcony was ajar and he’d probably stepped out into his own.

“Yeah? How wet? Tell me” his voice held a playful note and something told you he wasn’t talking about the weather back in England, since he was clearly British.

Your ears perked up at that immediately. You stood on the edge of your bed and heard him hiss “Got that wet just thinking about me, huh? And then you just had to send that nude, didn’t you?” he tsked and your mouth fell agape once again. Was he having phone sex?

You gently stood up, tiptoeing your way to the door to the balcony after switching off the nightstand lamp as well as your TV. You didn’t want to blow your cover, and you wanted to hear him properly. You were about to listen in on someone have phone sex. Were you ashamed of yourself? Maybe. Were you going to stop? Hell no.

“...know you’re tight, but you’re gonna have to push in another finger for me, yeah? Yes you can. I know you can, you can take me, after all” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes. What a cocky bastard. Even though you knew he was probably rightfully so. Suddenly you heard him walk back into his room, although he’d left the door to his balcony open, so you had to step out onto the balcony entirely in order to hear him. You made sure you didn’t make any sound as you gingerly stood on your sunbed, listening intently. His voice was a bit more muffled, but still, you could hear him.

“No! No you cannot. M’not there yet” you could hear through gritted teeth and you gasped realizing he was touching himself. You listened in even more intently and sure enough, you could hear the sound of him abusing himself and you literally felt like clutching your imaginary pearls. The man was a menace. At least have some decency and shut the damn door!

Not that you wanted him to.

“Yeah, I wanna hear yeh. Louder. Louder!” he grunted and before you could really brace yourself, as though you had any reason to, he was coming and he wasn’t making a secret of it. He groaned loudly and you could hear him panting. Then he must’ve ended the phone call because, suddenly, way too rapidly, you heard him walk out onto his own balcony and you froze.

You had to make sure you didn’t make any noise at all, lest you blew your cover, but you were also panting heavily yourself- for what reason, you had no clue!

“Any chance I could have another one of those? Haven’t had one after sex in a long while”

Your eyes widened looking at him lean across the railing from behind the partition yet again, and instead of acting like a deer caught in the headlights you decided to play it cool. He’d caught you. There was no use trying to deny having heard anything.

“I don’t think phone sex qualifies for a post coital cigarette, since there was no actual sex” you kept a steady voice and you could see his eyebrows shoot up at that.

“That’s just a technicality. I still think I deserve one, got the job done, didn’t I?”

You scoffed, walking over to him like last time, holding out the open packet “‘I’m sure your girlfriend is thrilled that you “got the job done” “ you air quoted and before he could pull a stick out, you retreated the packet “Wait, did you wash your hands afterwards?”

He just stared at you for a second before a smirk made its way across his face yet again and he just leaned in further and you stared at him for a beat too before you clumsily placed a cigarette in between his waiting lips. You also lit it for him and after he took the first drag he clarified “Not m’girlfriend”

“Wife?”

He laughed out loud “Hell no. We just fuck sometimes”

“Lovely. Well, I’m heading in. Good night”

“Already? It’s just past 10”

“Yeah, uhm… feel like turning in early tonight”

“Got something you need to take care of?” he raised an eyebrow, that same smirk playing on his lips as he took another drag

You gasped, this time having not turned away quick enough for him to miss your reaction and he laughed, wishing you a good night just as you closed the balcony door shut behind you.

Now that you were officially into your second week you felt better, mentally, knowing that most of it was behind you. You noticed the sun hit the balcony just right at around 5pm, when the rays weren’t that set out to burn you, and you decided to make the most of it and try and get a tan. You had those sunbeds in there and it would’ve been practically a shame not to use them at this point.

You had a bathing suit packed since this was a city with a lovely beach, after all, you still had 4 full days after quarantine for work and whatever you felt like doing in your spare time, and since you loved the ocean you were dying to finally be able to go. In the meanwhile though, you could build up your tan out there on the balcony.

You hadn’t even finished listening to 3 entire tracks on your spotify when you heard something over your earbuds and you opened your eyes, your head automatically turning to your left.

You pulled the earbuds out. Watching your “nextdoor neighbor” roam his eyes unashamedly over your body. You were only wearing that skimpy bikini and it certainly left little to the imagination “... What now?’” you scoffed, irritatedly

“I… forgot what I was going to say, if’m being honest” he picked at his lower lip and you rolled your eyes, resuming your position on your sunbed “Aren’t our suites supposed to be the same? How come you get not one, but two sunbeds and I only got a crappy chair?”

“I requested them”

“Good thinking” after a beat he asked “Mind if I joined?”

You opened your left eye, shielding your face from the sun with your outstretched arm “Huh?”

“I’m getting kinda antsy by myself here. How’d you survive this far?”

“I deserve a fucking raise” you mumbled

“You’re here for work?”

“Yeah. Fucking geniuses they are...”

“So… can I? Your balcony looks big enough for… social distancing” you could hear the smile in his voice even though you’d gone back to keeping your eyes shut, your arm got tired from keeping the sun from going into your eyes.

“How do you know I’m safe?’

He chuckled “You can just say no if you don’t want to”

But you kinda wanted him to, now “I don’t mind, you’ve been here long enough and seem perfectly healthy to me. But they’re gonna know if you use your card key”

“No need for that” you barely got a chance to furrow your brows at that before you heard shuffling and a loud thud and you sat back on your elbows looking at him hovering over you in that small balcony, that was, in fact, clearly not big enough for social distancing.

“Ok?” you couldn’t help but laugh “Guess you got it covered” He shrugged smilingly and then he went for his belt and you furrowed your eyebrows back “What are you doing?”

“Getting a tan?”

“I mean… yeah. Ok, I guess?” you tried your best to avert your gaze but when he dropped his jeans your eyes went straight to his tattoo on his thigh- was that a tiger?... This man. Fuck’s sake…

He then took off his t-shirt and your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected him to be this… muscular. And all those tattoos…. The laurels… the butterfly…

“Enjoying the view?” he smirked

You raised an eyebrow “You’re one to talk. You were practically ogling me just then”

“Never said I wasn’t” he winked as he made his way over to the other sunbed and plopped himself onto it unceremoniously.

You could feel yourself blush, so you turned over onto your stomach so that you could hide your face in your folded arms. You heard him hiss and you involuntarily turned to face him and caught him staring at your behind. Yeah. It was a bikini. Had he never seen ass cheeks before?

You meant to make a sarcastic remark but then your eyes drifted to his own crotch and you couldn’t help but notice the prominent tent in his briefs.

Your eyes lingered, against your better judgement, you just couldn’t help yourself. Maybe you were just sex starved, but this man was a work of art and you were merely mortal. Before you could talk yourself into looking away, his arm outstretched and grabbed the edge of your sunbed pulling it towards him so that both ended up perfectly aligned. You shrieked in surprise, exactly how strong was this guy? You couldn’t imagine that being easy.

“I’m done social distancing” he looked at you intently, his brows furrowed and you momentarily got lost in the proximity of him. He was so… simply, but effectively put, hot.

When your eyes dropped to his mouth he wasted no time, closing in the now small gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours and you felt all your senses catch on fire.

His skin was cooler against yours, which was now warm and toasty from staying out in the sun, and when his palm went to the small of your back you felt goosebumps all over your skin. He caressed the skin there, as his lips worked yours and you were surprised at yourself when you pushed your own tongue inside his warm mouth, desperate for more already. He hummed audibly and tugged at the strings holding your bathing suit’s top in place “Is this ok?”

“Yeah” you breathed against his lips and undid the strings at the nape of your neck as he pulled on the ones on your back. You then pushed yourself on your knees and let it fall on the sunbed eliciting a loud groan for him

“Fuck! C’mere. Want them in m’mouth” he held out a hand for you as you eagerly threw a leg over him, effectively straddling him and he waited no time in doing just that- grabbing your breasts firmly but gently and taking them in his eager mouth, one after the other.

You whimpered looking down at him, the sight was too good to be true. How did you ever end up across the wall from this adonis? He was truly spectacular, and those long locks of his were absolutely beautiful on him. You couldn’t help it when you reached out and threaded your fingers through his hair and when he sucked intently on your nipple you instinctively tugged at his roots

“Yes! Just like that. Ah, love the sting” he mumbled against your breasts as he stuck his tongue out flat, maneuvering each breast against it sloppily, coating them thoroughly in his saliva.

To that you couldn’t help yourself anymore, and you scooted down his body until you could feel him against you. Fuck, he was massive. You could feel it.

“Stop teasing” you said, out of breath “Been… social distancing for too long”

“Yeah? No holding back? Fuck!” he slapped your ass sharply earning a surprised yelp from you “Get me my jeans, will you, love?”

“You seriously carry them in your pants while self isolating?” you threw his jeans over at him and watched him fish out a condom from the backpocket

“You’re gonna be real happy I did in a minute. C’mere” he gestured in a come hither movement with his forefinger and you sat back on your own sunbed as per his instructions. He removed his briefs, his cock springing right up, hitting his navel and you bit your lower lip in anticipation.

“Gonna need you to take those off, sweetheart, hm?”

You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your bikini bottoms and discarded them, then spread your legs eagerly as he gave himself a few pumps over the condom.

“Fuck, you’re dripping” he hissed taking in your glistening core. The sun was still shining and you knew there was no use trying to deny it, yes he’d ruined your bikini from the moment he jumped over the partition.

He grabbed his length and drove it through your wet folds, and you rolled your eyes back. He was going to ruin you. He repeated the motion a couple times, applying firm pressure against your clit every time and you shuddered, your legs jerking reflexively.

“You’re sensitive, aren’t you kitten? Hm? Bet I can make you come just from this alone” he licked his lips as he watched almost as if transfixed as he ran his cock through your lips.

“Please don’t tease me” you repeated your earlier request, you were dying for him to drive into you already

He tsked “Not teasing if I get you off, hm?” he then smacked your clit sharply using his tip and you mewled pathetically “Love how responsive you are. Gonna have fun watching you come over and over”

“Please” you squirmed, trying to get closer

“Be patient. Gonna let you come in a moment. Wanna get you really worked up first…”

“I’m gonna burst” you huffed, impatiently

“Oh, I’ll make sure of it” he chuckled when he saw your eyes widen and then surprised you by landing his fingers sharply against your clit

“Ah!”

“Like that?”

“Yeah. Do it again” you begged

He smacked your pussy again and you couldn't help the loud moan. If there were any other residents in this hotel wing, though you doubted it, they were in for a show even if just audibly. He pushed you higher on the sunbed so that your torso was more upright “Pull m’hair. Love the pain, too”

You grabbed a lock and twisted it around your finger before tugging at it sharply and he ground his cock even harder against your throbbing cunt. You were beginning to think you really were going to come from that alone, and soon.

Watching him roll his eyes to the back of his head with each tug had you pull on it with both hands. Not enough to cause any breakage but definitely enough to make it sting.

He then tapped his cock rapidly against your clit and your heart rate escalated quickly “Ohh!!”

“C’mon, kitten. Come for me so that I can fuck you good. Come for me, beautiful, c’mon!” he commanded with one last smack to your clit using his hand and you arched right off the sunbed. You shrieked at the intensity but before you could even make sense of any of it you felt his lips wrap around your clit and he sucked intently, prolonging your orgasm considerably. He didn’t let up, even when you came down from your high, and even though your hands made their way back into his hair to try and pull him away from you, that wasn’t working in your favor as it only spurred him on.

You were definitely overly stimulated but after a few moments of discomfort you quickly skyrocketed into another fastly approaching orgasm “Oh my God! Oh God!”

To that he sunk a finger deep inside of you and pumped intently, his mouth never leaving your clit and you barely had time to register what was happening- you were coming again, faster and definitely harder.

He finally sat back on his heels, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand “Guess you did burst, didn’t you, kitten?”

You looked at him through hazy eyes and as the realization slowly hit you he was grabbing your thighs from under your knees, scooting you back lower on the sunbed “My turn” he bit his lower lip as he raised an eyebrow. He positioned himself at your entrance and stopped just before he nudged inside, adding with a smirk “M’Harry by the way. Just so you know what name to scream for this next part”.

lhh Masterlist

A/N: whew. ok. barely an one-shot but i tried!!!!! man... i can't keep it short, can i? 😅 trying my best with these next ones though

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[hoothalcyon]

Let's Talk About Ethari

PLEASE READ: this is not meant as an attack on anyone. I never intend to call anybody out or call them names. I don't think anybody in this community intends to be rude in any way, so I certainly won't presume they are. I'm also not looking for a debate; I just wanna say my thoughts.

So, let's talk about Ethari, and how the fandom (generally) perceives him.

I would like to encourage people to consider not labelling or thinking of Ethari as passive or a pushover in any way, because as far as I'm concerned, he certainly isn't. I touched upon this in another post of mine called "first impressions", but I think it's worth expanding upon.

Ethari is not passive. He does not keep quiet about his opinions or thoughts, and he shouldn't have to. Quite literally the first thing he ever says in the show is that he TOLD Runaan that he didn't think Rayla should've come on the mission even though he KNEW he would get pushback from the ASSASSIN LEADER. Runaan is his husband, but he is also the leader of the assassins. what he says, goes. and Ethari knows that. yet that didn't stop him from being like "hey, no, let's talk about that first" and he stood his ground. that debate ending in a compromise or in Runaan getting his way DOES NOT mean that Ethari didn't fight for what he believed in. given all that we know about him, there's no way, and you can't convince me otherwise.

I want to point out that Ethari has the more "feminine" (take that with a grain of salt; fuck 'gendering' aspects of personalities) traits and gender expression (with his outfit) between himself and Runaan, with Ethari being objectively outwardly soft-hearted. Take a moment to consider how this might impact your views on his personality and how you think he responds to his more-masculine presenting husband.

See where I'm going with this?

I'll say it again: I'm not calling anyone sexist or anything. I'm merely pointing out something that I've noticed, and I want this fandom to be better. I want them to treat all characters equally and to be able to make accurate judgements of their personalities regardless of what they look like or what their gender is.

This following part might just be my opinion, but if there's anyone (between Runaan and Ethari) who's passive or more willing to shut their mouth and do what they're told instead of questioning, it's Runaan. He conforms to his society and the questionable ideals they present to him. He doesn't have much to stand up for or feel like he'll be criticized for. Ethari, on the other hand, is the antithesis of what Moonshadow society wants him to be. He's soft, he questions their problematic traditions, and he cringes at society's brutality.

So yeah. Those are my thoughts on the trend of people associating passivity and being 'docile' with Ethari, because while he's soft and less "masculine" than his husband, it doesn't mean he's a pushover. Thank you for listening.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

do you have any resources on why the Episcopal church in America is LGBT affirming? I'm catholic and I'm trying to understand from a theological standpoint how the Roman Catholic church and the Episcopal church come to such different conclusions.

Hey! I dug a few things up, but I'm posting this to see if anyone has more info.

Here's the Episcopal Church's webpage about their history of LGBTQ inclusion.

"In 1974, Louie Crew founded IntegrityUSA, a non-profit organization with the goal of full-inclusion of LGBT persons in The Episcopal Church. The next General Convention, in 1976, adopted resolutions stating that “homosexual persons are children of God who have a full and equal claim with all other persons upon the love, acceptance, and pastoral concern and care of the Church” (1976-A069), and that they “are entitled to equal protection of the laws with all other citizens” (1976-A071). ...

...Finally, in the summer of 2015, just five days after the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that same-sex couples had the legal right to marry, General Convention voted to amend the canons of The Episcopal Church that regulate marriage, permitting any couple the rite of Holy Matrimony. They also called for a name-change rite to honor an important moment in the lives of anyone claiming their true identity."

This website, meanwhile, goes into more detail about just how complicated the move to become affirming was — cw for religious homophobia. It only goes up through 1999, however.

-----

Overall, I think the main difference between the Episcopal Church and the Catholic Church in this and many issues involves who is allowed to join the debate & who is allowed to vote on issues.

The Catholic Church is much more hierarchical and the men (and it's all men making the decisions, right?) at the top are more or less picked by others at the top.

Do some research on the EC's General Convention to see how they're different in that regard.

...

I also have opinions about how all the Catholic Church's stances on sexuality are interwoven, so that they can't, say, announce that contraceptives are fine for married couples, actually, without also saying that gay couples can get married...

Their stances against extra-marital sex, against same-sex marriage, against contraceptives within marriage, against masturbation — all these things hinge upon the claim that sexuality is a gift from God meant exclusively for procreation.

You "shouldn't" be having sex that you wouldn't joyfully welcome turning into a pregnancy — or that could never result in a pregnancy because the partners' genitals don't "match" that way.

(This is of course all related to their anti-abortion stance — not only is sexuality for procreation only, but the creation of life is a super big deal so you can't abort a fetus)

So yeah, it would be a mess and require a huge revamp of allll their theology around sexuality to become LGBT affirming

And they don't want to do that because the men in charge are happy with the way things are now —

but also because Catholic views on how that theology developed places a lot of reverence on that development (which involves Saints as well as scripture — to start casting big swathes of theology into doubt also impacts views of the Saints who helped develop it, I'd imagine).

Thus the Catholic Church doesn't change theological positions without a huge reason to do so, or without ton of reflection and discussion (think Vatican II and their stance on Judaism)

This is all super over-simplified and messily written haha but hopefully you get the picture

...

But yeah, this kind of polity stuff isn't my specialty — anyone else have info or thoughts?

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Prominence [WCh. 2.46]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 4.1K

(46/80) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [NCT Masterlist] | [Other Groups Masterlist] | [Prominence S1 Masterlist] | [Prominence S2 Masterlist]

Notes: I was debating on posting this but... fuck it. Better sooner than later, more time for me to develop things hehe Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

20 February 2022

Everything felt hazy.

His vision blurred and his ears ringing, it was a strange experience and all he was doing was slumping against a bench. The side of his face was pressed up against the cold glass of the bar window with one leg was extended across the bench and the other stretched out off the side. He was so tired. Where did Yunho go? Or Yangyang for that matter? He could've sworn he was just getting into the taxi before someone dragged him out and placed him on a bench.

Maybe he was dreaming. He'd just close his eyes and wake up in the dorms, hopefully. Yes, definitely. He was ready to have the best sleep of his life. Tour's back on track, ATEEZ's career is going well, his relationship's fixed and on temporary hold. Life's great. He'll probably call you tomorrow, catch up on things, maybe he'd get to see Mars again, hm, he can hear him barking away now. His face began to heat up, thoughts of you bouncing around his head. He's so glad. You're both talking again, you're both on good terms again, he just has to wait for a few more months and it'll be like you never broke up in the first place.

But... he still has a few things to tell you. He has to apologize for that text still. He still can't believe he typed it out, what the hell was he thinking? Treating you like that? He'd hate him too.

"Wow... I really lucked out with her..." he mumbles. He truly did. And he had yet to tell you about what Juliet had on her phone. Oh, no, his head was spinning, just thinking about it all stressed him out so much. He just got you back, is he ready to risk it all again?

He had to tell you.

He wished you were here.

"Seonghwa?" It was like he could hear you anywhere if he put his mind to it. "What are you doing here?" Your voice is what convinced him to pry his eyes open again. Still, the world was fuzzy around the edges, but you were in full focus. The ringing came to a stop, and all he could see and hear was you. A small smile settled on his face.

"You're here," his words slurred together and your brows furrowed.

"Hey, Park Seonghwa!" Despite the sternness in your voice, it was still soft. "I thought you went home."

"I am home..." he mutters. Your shoulders slumped.

"You're literally passed out against a bar window, Hwa, this isn't home. In fact, you are far from it."

"Home... is wherever you are..." his eyes slip closed again and he hears you sigh. He'll tell you in a bit, he's so tired right now.

"Geez... hold on, okay?" You moved his leg and sat next to him on the bench. "Come on... pick up..." you mumbled.

"(Y/N)!" He heard Yangyang's voice over the phone. "Surprise~"

"How much did you drink, jackass?!" Seonghwa snickered, you could be so cute when you're angry.

"Like... two...?"

"Two shots...?"

"Two... two-teen?"

"Oh my god... well you and Yunho left Seonghwa here."

"No, no, that was intentional."

"What do you mean 'intentional'?!"

"I dunno, it was Yunho's idea."

"So you just left him in the cold, on his own, in public- Oh my god, you're impossible when you drink." Seonghwa felt something drape over him. He opened his eyes slightly. Looks like his coat, that's weird, he handed that to you earlier.

Oh, wait, you're right in front of him. He chuckled to himself and shut his eyes again.

"You're the one to talk! You cling onto the closest person to you like a koala and you won't let up until you pass out!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is..." Seonghwa mumbles.

"Shh, don't encourage him," your voice continued. "At least tell me you're at the ATEEZ dorms."

"Yeah, yup, mmhmm. 'Cept Yunho's getting lectured by Jonghoong now."

"Hongjoong."

"That's what I said."

"Okay, well, I'm coming to drop Seonghwa off and pick you up, so you'd best prepare yourself because I swear I'm gonna give you a piece of my mind, we have an early schedule tomorrow, are you out of your mind?! It's midnight! It's midnight and I'm going to have to deal with your complaining tomorrow-"

"Yes, I'm out of my mind. I set my three-year crush back up with her fairy tale boyfriend who's so head over heels for her he stayed in his room for two weeks straight while she repeatedly cried 'Love is over!' 'I was a horrible girlfriend!' 'I will never date again!' and, my personal favorite, 'my super hot boyfriend, oh shit, ex-boyfriend, is gone for-."

"Okay, stop!" You groaned.

"Don't listen to him, you're a good girlfriend, bestest ever," Seonghwa yawns. "And I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," he shakes his head.

"I know, honey, I know, and I need to get you home," you squeezed his leg and returned to the call. "But... You stayed in your room for two weeks straight?" He felt you grab his hand and squeeze it before letting go.

"Mmhmm..." He moves his hand around his lap absently, looking for yours to hold. When he doesn't find it, his arm drapes over his chest instead.

You must hate him.

His lips tugged into a frown.

"Geez... Was Hongjoong even allowed in?"

"Uhh... dunno, just heard from Seoyang."

"Yeosang."

"That's what I said."

"Oh my god... you're going to get us fired. When you're hungover during schedule tomorrow don't cry to me," you grumbled. Seonghwa assumed you hung up the phone. "Okay, I need you to cooperate with me here," you placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He opened one eye to look at it.

"Hm?"

"I don't know if this is going to work... I'll just drive extra slow," you muttered. You pulled one of his arms over your shoulder and slowly guided him to the motorcycle. "Are you awake yet? Seonghwa?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I'm going to need you to hold onto me, yeah? I don't want you to fall off."

"Okay, I can do that," he nods his head up and down, the world beginning to spin when you held the sides of his face.

"Don't do that, you're going to make yourself sick," you said. "And as much as I like you," you like him. Seonghwa's lips tugged into a smile again, "I will never forgive you if you throw up on me," you finished.

"Okay," he nods his head slightly now. You climb onto the seat first and hand him the helmet, once he was ready he climbed behind you, essentially slumping his weight on you and holding you close.

"Alright, ready?"

"Mmhmm," he hums against your shoulder. You revved the engine. "Wait!"

"What?" Your shoulders tensed. He didn't mean to frighten you.

"Nothing, I just love you."

"Oh my..." Whatever you said next was masked by the engine. You pulled his arms tighter around you and took off, slowly, of course. He looked around, the city lights molding together and the chatters muting. He was tired, his eyes heavy. But you said not to sleep, he had to hold on. When would be the next time he gets to have you this close anyway? Your helmets knock together and he groans.

"Great... another obstacle..." He sighs. It's like the world's against you two.

"Huh?" He didn't answer, just tightening his arms instead. This was nice, he liked this. He sighed, leaning more of his weight against you. He liked this, he missed it. It was so cold, but you were so warm. If he could make this moment last forever he would. When was the last time he held you like this? He's made so many mistakes, so many, when was the last time he held you like this? He couldn't remember, but to be fair, he couldn't remember how many drinks he's had either.

Much too soon, you pulled over again, pulling your key out of the engine.

"Seonghwa, we're here," you said. "Hwa, you... you can let go now."

"Five more minutes."

"That's not how this works, Hwa," your voice was still as soft as it was earlier, "we have to get you inside."

"No..." He holds you closer, if that was even possible.

"I'm going to need backup, aren't I?" You muttered. He could hear the dial tone from your phone.

"(Y/N)! Hyung was just about to call you, your friend's here!"

"Yeah, I know. I have Seonghwa with me and I'm outside, can you give me a hand, San?"

"You have San's number?" Seonghwa asks.

"I have all of your numbers," you answered.

"Oh, shit, is he as hammered as Yunho and Yangyang are?!"

"Probably? I just need some help getting him up, yeah? He doesn't want to let me go."

"I don't blame him."

"Hey! I can hear you, Choi San!" Seonghwa leans forward, trying to speak into the phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, hyung. I'll be right down, (Y/N). Want me to bring Yangyang?"

"If you can, I'd appreciate it. But if not I'll just come back up with you."

"San you'd better not be trying to steal my girlfriend!" The sentence was just barely understandable.

"Oh, god, he really is drunk. If he was sober he'd never say that out loud, haha! I'll be right down."

"Seonghwa, come on, let's get you inside," you tried to encourage him again. "It's cold out, it's so you don't get sick."

"But if I let go..." he squeezes you. "I won't be able to hold you like this again..." Again, your shoulders relaxed.

"Just a few more months," you muttered.

"Exactly..." he responds. Somehow, you pry his arms off of you and climb off the bike. You held onto his hand and tried to tug him off the seat. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?!"

"I don't want to."

"I wonder if I'm this difficult when I'm drunk," you sighed.

"Never fear, Choi San is here!" Seonghwa whipped his head to the side and San walks out of the complex.

"You've got coffee spilled all over you!" Seonghwa's eyes go wide.

"I know," you responded. "Think you can help me out here?" You turn to San.

"I got it," he walks over to Seonghwa. "Hyung, we gotta go, Hongjoong's going to flip if you don't come inside."

"No, no, I don't want to," he shakes his head again.

"Why not?" You and San both ask.

"Because... if I go inside... I have to wait a few months to be with (Y/N) again..." he crosses his arms.

"Oh my god, this is rich," San bellows. "Yangyang should've come down with me, he'd eat this up!" He laughs.

"That too!" Seonghwa points at particularly nothing. "That... that guy... ugh... gave me so many headaches back then, he's going to give me more now," his speech slows down and his head starts nodding off.

"Think we should just wait for him to pass out," you ask.

"Nah," San takes his phone out. "Hyung, I'm serious, we should go upstairs."

"No..." he shakes his head again. San looks at you. He places his hand on your shoulder.

"If you don't come upstairs with us right now, I'll take (Y/N) on a date," San smirks.

"No! Absolutely not! Are you insane? Why would you do that?" Seonghwa stumbles off the motorcycle, slowly making his way to the entrance of the dorms and pushing on the door that clearly says 'pull.'

"I should've done that first," you snapped your fingers.

"Always works, as soon as we mention you this guy is on it," San laughs. "Alright, let's go." You walk past Seonghwa and pull open the door for him. San, meanwhile, leans Seonghwa's body against his so that he could have support. You both enter the elevator.

"I hope Yangyang hasn't been too much of a problem," you say.

"Eh, he's been fine. He's filling us in on all the details right now, drunk, of course, but it's kind of interesting," San says. "Before I came down he was just telling us about how he'd been pining for you since 2018."

"Oh my god, that's so embarrassing..."

"You should see him! He's more embarrassed than you, we didn't have time to tease him because he started begging Yeosang to let him back into the Investigation Team group chat," he chuckles, but then quickly stops when he realizes what he said.

"It's okay, I know about it. Mark told me," you reassured him.

"Cool, even better. What did you think about my theories?"

"They were way far from the truth, but I appreciate the creativity," you laughed. Like music to his ears, Seonghwa absently reached for your hand. But when you crossed your arms over your chest instead, he could only pout.

"Wish Wooyoung was here to see it, though, that guy would've gone feral laughing as hard as we are," he says.

"Where's Wooyoung? I was looking forward to seeing him."

"He went out with a friend, he should be on his way back soon though," San says. The elevator opens and you walk into the next hall, the ATEEZ dorm in sight. The sound of the other members laughing was barely audible.

"I swear he'd better not be saying shit about me, he knows too much," you snickered.

"I'm sure it's all good things." The sound of keys against a lock and then a door opening. The sounds of everyone's voices got louder. "The missing member has returned!" San announced. Seonghwa smiled, they all care about him.

"(Y/N)! Our missing ninth member! Thank god! The world is healing!" Mingi shouts. Seonghwa frowns. They don't care about him.

"Tatertot! It's been so long I forgot what you sounded like!" Yeosang cries.

"Aww, come on, I was just one phone call away," you said. "Hey, is Hongjoong here?"

"Yeah, he's in his room," Yeosang answered. "Yunho and Yangyang are there too."

"Got it, I'm just going to do a switcheroo and be out of your hairs."

"No! Stay! This is the most relaxed we've seen hyung since the whole thing," Jongho insists.

"Aw, I'm sorry guys, I have a schedule tomorrow morning, I'll come visit soon, Seonghwa will explain things when he's sober, I'm sure," you continued. Seonghwa wanted to add on, really, he did, but for some reason he was too tired to even walk right. San readjusted his grip on him and they started walking again, even the voices around him seemed to mute out. Soon, he was placed in his bed, or what he assumes to be his bed, and everything felt comfortable, too comfortable. He dozed off as soon as he felt someone run their hands through his hair.

~

"Hongjoong, hey," you nodded your head to him once San pulled the door open. He was seated at his desk with Yunho and Yangyang standing in front of him. San sat Seonghwa down on his bed and the latter collapsed against the pillow, passing out immediately. "Poor guy, doesn't even have the energy to change into something more comfy," you shook your head.

"Hey, (Y/N), long time no see, here to grab this guy, right?" Hongjoong motions to Yangyang, who sends you a small wave. Looks like he's sobered up a bit before you entered.

"Yeah, but, I wanted to talk to you too, actually," you admitted. "I wanted to apologize to you," you stood between Yunho and Yangyang. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble to you all, it really wasn't my intention, but intentions have nothing to do with effects, right?"

"Apology accepted," Hongjoong stands up. "Are you two okay now?"

"Wait... just like that?" You ask.

"Of course? What, do you want me to make you pay for dinner or something?" Hongjoong laughs. "I'm just glad you and Seonghwa made amends, this is the first time he's looked so peaceful while asleep," he points to Seonghwa. "Honestly, he told me everything from his end, and to me it sounded like a series of unfortunate and unpredictable events. What matters now is that you talked things through, and you can begin to move on from it all," he says. You hear sniffling next to you and you look at Yunho, who wipes a tear from his eye.

"Yunho? Why are you crying?" You ask.

"It's just... it's so moving," the tears slip down his red-tinted face. Next to you, Yangyang sniffles too and you and Hongjoong both sigh.

"And you?" You ask.

"I just lost ₩120,000..." he frowns.

"What?!"

"Mark bet me that you'd be getting back together with Seonghwa and I bet against it," he groaned. "I just remembered that bet now," he frowns.

"And here I thought you cared," you teased him and rolled your eyes. "Oh well, what can be done, right? I'll see you both soon," you said. "Yangyang, let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he follows behind you, head hanging low.

"Bye, (Y/N)! Drive safe!" Jongho calls out.

"I will!" You waved goodbye and walked out, Yangyang in tow. You were both quiet for a while, but you couldn't stop your curiosity. Once you were both in the elevator, you spoke up. "Yangyang."

"(Y/N)?"

"Why did you try so hard to get me and Hwa back together?" You leaned against the back wall of the elevator. Yangyang just points at your reflection on the metal doors of the elevator.

"You're smiling," he says. "Last time you had that resting face was when you were dating. After you broke up, you either looked sad or pissed all the time so... figured I'd at least try to help you out," he says. You looked at your reflection now, true to his words, your lips were settled in a subtle upturn, and you hadn't realized that they looked like that until now. "Figured I'd do one last good deed before I head back to China, you know?" He shrugs.

"You always act like we're just going to stop being friends when you move out, seriously? I'm still going to nag you nonstop, you know."

"Yeah... I know," he shrugs again. "Just... the dynamic's different, you know?"

"I know, but we still have a whole month together, the three of us."

"Not sure about that."

"Why?"

"I'm about to go on the death machine again while drunk."

"Oh my god, you're not going to die!" You pushed him lightly.

"I had a good life, good fans, good career..."

"You're so dramatic! At least I know you'll sober up soon," you groaned. The three stages of Drunk Yangyang, as you put it. First, untouchable happiness; second, unavoidable honesty; and third, unbearable dramatics. After those three stages he either passes out or sobers up, and you hoped that you'd be at the dorms by the time he hits either of those stages. You both step out of the elevator and he darts off towards the restrooms. "You couldn't have done that up there?!"

"No!" He shuts the door and you complained. You shifted your weight onto one leg and waited for him.

"Oh! Jung (Y/N)!" Wooyoung called your name from the entrance. He waved his hand so you could see him and you waved back. "What are you doing here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love when you visit, but, like, you know," he rambles.

"I just dropped Seonghwa off. There was a bit of a mixup and somehow Yunho and Yangyang came here instead and left him at the bar, so... yeah," you explained.

"Oh... oh! Does that mean you two are back together?!" His eyes light up.

"Well... not exactly," you shook your head. "We're on good terms now, but we agreed to wait until we're both free to properly restart things," you say.

"So you're both still technically single then?" He asks.

"Yeah, pretty much," you nodded. "Nothing wrong with that though," you quickly added. "Hey, I heard you went out with a friend, how was it? You guys don't usually have time to go out."

"Yeah! Ah, I had so much fun! He's on his way in, actually, it's late and his dorms are pretty far from here so Hongjoong is letting him spend the night, he'll probably head up in a second, but I gotta make sure my room is clean!" He says, knocking the side of his head with his palm. "It was nice seeing you! I'll talk to you later!" He rushes into the elevator and is off.

You glanced toward the hallway, he's been in there for a while, and something told you that he wouldn't be out for a bit either. You should probably at least start the engine so you could get home quicker, you'd just wait for Yangyang outside. You pulled your phone out to check the time while you opened the door, not noticing that you dragged someone with it, and finally realizing it once you walked right into them.

"Whoops!" You exclaimed, dropping your phone and grabbing onto his wrist with one hand and the door frame with the other to catch his fall. "I am so sorry, I should've been paying attention to what I was... doing..." your voice trailed off when you noticed just who it was you ran into. You gasped and your hand slipped for a moment, which he responded to by grabbing onto your wrist instead and you tugged him up without thinking about it, leading him to crash into you this time. He grabs the door frame and holds you steady. "Sorry..." you apologized again.

"Don't worry about it," he laughs. "Are you alright? You look pretty worried," he pulls away from you, and you both step back inside.

"I'm good, sorry for bumping into you, I can't..." you cleared your throat. "Whoa, I could've gotten into so much trouble," you huffed.

"I'm serious, it's fine, you're not hurt, are you? I might've grabbed onto you too hard," he looks down at your wrist.

"Yeah- Wait, no, no it's okay, I'm fine," you waved your hand in front of him and he chuckles.

"I'm glad then, I'm just here because Wooyoung offered, so I'll head up," he says. "He told me to wait outside but it's freaking cold so I figured I'd just wait in front of the dorm until he was ready. Told me he had to ask Hongjoong but I know he's actually shoving everything into his closet right now," he shakes his head. Right as he said it, the elevator opened again and Wooyoung bounded out.

"(Y/N)! You're still here!" He says, but he quickly redirects his attention back to his friend. "Sorry for leaving you outside, just had to do something really quick, ready to head up?" He asks. He looks between you both and knocks the side of his head with his hand again. "Ah! Where are my manners? I don't think you two have ever actually met, huh?"

"I mean, I know of him, at least, hard not to know who he is," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly.

"I can say the same about you, actually," he winks at you and you tried to ignore the sudden rush of heat in your face. Wooyoung's eyes dart between you both.

"Anyway... (Y/N), this is my best friend Yeonjun," he says. "Yeonjun, this is my close friend (Y/N)!" He introduces you both properly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm a huge fan of ANiMA," Yeonjun says.

"(Y/N)! I'm ready to go home!" Yangyang stumbles out of the restroom, holding his head in one hand. "I think I've sobered up enough to go on the death machine."

"Quit calling it that! No one's died on it!"

"Yet."

"Ugh, sober my ass," you shook your head. "Sorry to cut this short, but it was nice meeting you too. I'll head out, see you soon, Wooyoung!" You waved at him and Yangyang linked his arm with yours, tugging you out with him.

Yeonjun, meanwhile, stayed for a little while longer, his hands in his pockets and his body leaning back to watch you go. Wooyoung held the door open button on the elevator.

"Hey, let's go!" He says.

"Huh..." he shrugs, letting his gaze linger on the door a while longer before following his friend into the elevator.

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[gaybarbiegirl]

Hey so I'm not usually one to make long analysis posts about just media in general (my long analysis posts are usually about specific pieces of media that I enjoy), but lately I've been seeing a lot of debate about wheter or not it is empowering for fictional women to be both physically strong and traditionally feminine and I wanna share my thoughts about it.

First of all, I think it's important to keep in mind that the trope these strong AND feminine characters are seen as an improvement of isn't the butch action hero - these have never existed in any significant quantity in mainstream media - but the nlog/cool girl action hero. I'm sure you know the type. The female character who was either raised by her dad or had five older brothers, who only had traditionally masculine interests, and who scoffed at the though of anything that was seen as feminine, including other women. This was the common place strong female character in the 2000s and the early 2010s, but ever since the not like other girls mentality started to get more criticism than praise, she's been slowly replaced by the strong AND feminine character who has become the new norm when it comes to strong women in fiction. I'm not a media or marketing analyst, but what I'm guessing happened is that writers and studio executives probably noticed that audiences were growing unhappy with female heroes whose main personality trait was how strongly they insisted in separating themselves from the rest of the female population, and so this new wave of strong+feminine characters came as a response to that. These characters aren't trying to separate themselves from other women, see? They like girly things like dresses and make up and the color pink, they don't have a disdain for femininity, and they do see themselves as girls! But the thing is, these characters aren't actually a big improvement because they're still falling victim to the same mistake that generated the nlog action girl, which is conflating womanhood with femininity.

Just think about it. The nlog action girl hated femininity - she hated wearing dresses, hated fashion, hated the expectation palaced on her to be delicate and sweet, hated every interest and activity that was deemed as feminine. She wanted to fully separate herself from femininity, and how did she do that? By separating herself from womanhood entirely. You'd often see these characters rolling their eyes whenever another female character dared to open her mouth, being full on condescending and rude to other women, and regularly parroting sexist statements that made it clear they didn't see themselves as women. From "women are crazy!" to "do I look like a regular girl?", or even a joking "eh, women..." whenever another female character got rightfully angry with one of the nlog action girl's male companions, it was clear that these women did not think of themselves as women at all. And of course, this all comes back to the writers. If you believe that femininity is the essence of women and womanhood, then of course a female character who isn't feminine can't be written as a full woman. How could she be?

And of course, as a woman, it's bloodcurling to have the supposed heroes that you're meant to look up to be people who have an open disdain for you. That's not what anyone wants. Women want female heroes who stand up for other women instead of putting them down, and who embrace their own womanhood instead of hiding it in a pathetic attempt to be seen as "one of the guys". But again, we come back to the writers, who believe that femininity = womanhood, and so can think of no better way to write a strong woman who embraces her womanhood then by writing a strong woman who embraces femininity. She kicks ass in dresses and heels, her eyeliner is sharp enough to kill a man, and instead of dropping quirky misogynistic one liners, she drops quirky pop feminism one liners that basically all boil down to "girl power!". It looks like an improvement, and in a way it kind of is - I'd rather have female heroes who at the very least see themselves as women than female heroes who spend their entire screentime parroting misogynistic men - but it's not a meaningful one. The root of the problem is still very much there, and these are just two sides of the same coin, really. Side one says "hey ladies, if you want to be strong and unfeminine, you have to essentially give up on being a woman", side two says "hey ladies, if you want to be strong and still be seen as a woman, you have to be totally feminine", and the notion that being a woman boils down to being feminine still goes completely unchallenged.

What would be really progressive would be an influx of female characters who are both strong and unfeminine and never have their womanhood put into question. Women who are allowed to give up femininity without separating themselves from women as a class, without looking down on us or rejecting us, without siding with misogynists. Women who fully embrace their own womanhood while still rejecting all of the feminine standards tied to it. But sadly, given how rare these are, I don't really see this becoming a trend any time soon.

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 1

Rating: Teen

Content Warnings: It's a hanahaki fic, so. Mild body horror, blood, respiratory illness. (Starts at Ch 3 and gets worse from there).

Characters: All

Pairing: Moceit

Additional Notes: This one was supposed to be Darker and Longer, but turns out I'm not in the headspace to write angst atm, so it ends up moving p fast. Swaps between Janus and Patton's POVs. Post-PoF, light angst. Not whump. They both get hanahaki, but there is absolutely no version of Moceit in my mind where Janus isn't the one who falls first. My AO3 username is WizatdGlick.

Summary: The story of how Janus and Patton find each other at rock bottom and fall in love anyway.

A gentle knock on Janus' door drew him out of his thoughts. He donned a mask of triumph as he rose to open it, straightening his hat as he went. It couldn't be Remus; Remus never knocked so softly, which meant that Janus had to perform. He slid into the role with difficulty, struggling to find the edges of this gloating persona when all he felt was numb and tired and lost.

It was Patton at the door, and Janus felt everything slip, and Patton's eyes lit up with recognition, and all of Janus' resolve fell away in the face of that beseeching gaze.

"Come for another debate?" Janus asked in a low voice, making no effort to hide his ironical smile.

Patton smiled too, though he dropped it a moment too soon. Janus got the distinct impression that Patton was also far too wrung-out to put on any kind of act tonight. "Just came to check on you."

It would be as natural as breathing for Janus to draw back, place his fingertips delicately to his chest, widen his eyes. ' Check on me?' he would say, all faux-innocence, ' Please, Patton, I'm not a child. I don't need your pity.'

But he didn't.

Here was Patton, reaching out, and hadn't that been what Janus had wanted all along? That tiny, fervent flame that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge, that smallest ember of hope that someone might just give him what he was convinced he had to take.

The seconds stretched out until the silence verged on awkward, and Janus' pride stood up to do what his cunning would not: "I'm fine." He was fine, strangely. Not happy, as he perhaps should have been, but nothing hurt.

Patton's brow furrowed. "Am I supposed to believe that?" he asked gently.

Something warm and soft and dangerous bloomed in Janus' chest at Patton's look of confusion. He had freckles on his nose, scattered like spilled cinnamon: a trait assigned by Thomas’ subconscious. "Patton," Janus said, flicking his gaze upwards to meet Patton's eyes. "Would you like to come in?"

"To your room ?" Patton asked, eyes widening. He looked past Janus' shoulder and Janus fought not to move and block Patton's gaze with his body. He had just invited Patton in; there was no point getting shy now. "Won't that, y'know, do something to me?"

"It's just a matter of self-control," Janus said, hoping to get a smile out of Patton.

Sure enough, Patton did smile. "What color is my shirt?"

Janus said, "True blue," and stepped backwards to let Patton in.

It was a risk to bring someone into his room like this, but he felt unusually clear-headed tonight, calm and strangely secure despite the fact he had just let a known enemy past his defenses, and despite the exhaustion that made every breath feel heavy.

"Warm in here," Patton remarked, looking around.

Janus motioned him over to a set of armchairs. To be seen was to be judged, and he wasn't sure what he would do if Patton found him lacking again . "I have a question for you, Patton."

In the low light, the tear tracks on Patton's cheeks glimmered when he tilted his head inquisitively. "You do?"

Janus nodded, slow and calculated. He was sure he already knew the answer to the question, and preemptive anger bubbled thick and hot in his veins. "Who," he said, unable to keep from glaring, "came to check on you?"

"Well," said Patton, "Ah… They don't-- Everyone's upset right now--"

"And you're not?" Janus demanded. "And don't you dare tell me that you're fine." His emotions were running too hot; he needed to check himself, but seeing Patton make excuses filled him with a passion he'd only ever felt on Thomas' behalf.

"I am--"

"Don't."

"But I have to be," Patton whispered. "I can't-- I know they told me… They said it was okay for me to be sad, but--"

"If you fall apart, there's no one there to pick up the pieces," Janus guessed. "Sure, you can be sad, as long as it doesn't interfere with your role."

"Don't be mad at them," Patton pleaded, and Janus realized with a jolt that he would get into no one's good graces by slinging around insults.

"It's just hard," Janus said plainly, only half-noticing the words coming out of his mouth. He had just become aware of a keen and sickening new desire, borne on the back of a newfound respect for Patton that he had even lasted this long without having some sort of spectacular breakdown. Janus' whole chest ached with it, that and the equally sickening knowledge that he had just become horrifically vulnerable, that he had fallen under a spell he could never hope to break.

He saw it in his mind's eye: he saw himself stand and lean over, take Patton's jaw in his hands, kiss him long and deep and slow. He saw himself lay his body and soul bare before Patton, getting on his knees to forgive Patton all his perceived flaws. He meant well, after all. He only ever meant well, and it wasn't really his fault that those good intentions were capable of morphing into a cruel and deadly weapon.

But he would plunge that weapon straight into Janus' heart before their lips could ever even meet. Janus could see it now, Patton pulling away in confusion and disgust. His tenuous patience would give out then and there, and Janus would have no hope of acceptance ever again. Same for Remus, probably. They would remain Dark Sides forever, damned to be eternal outcasts. All thanks to Janus' pathetic inability to control himself.

"Why do you care so much about…" Patton hesitated for a moment and gave a shallow sigh. "Well, about me?"

And now Janus found himself walking a chasm’s edge. His instinct was to lean hard into the opposite of the truth and insult Patton so deeply that he left and never came back. Eliminate the threat. But that wasn't an option now of all times. No, he had to maintain a friendship with Patton, somehow. He had to keep himself under control. How fun. "You're a part of Thomas," Janus said. He paused.

"So are the others."

"You've earned my respect."

"Oh," said Patton. "Wow, um. Gosh, that's…" His lower lip trembled. "I should go," he said in a broken voice.

Janus surveyed him in silent agony, teetering on the precipice of a lie. With a monumental effort, he pulled himself away from it and opened his arms. "Come here."

The floodgates opened. Patton fell into Janus' lap, already sobbing. Janus held him, all his muscles stiff and awkward. He was much smaller in the mindscape than he was in Thomas’ eyes and it was difficult to support Patton’s much larger frame. A sharp pain flared in Janus’ collarbone where Patton had buried his forehead and his tears were already starting to seep through Janus' clothes. He cringed at himself and the absurdity of the situation, wishing he had some way to make it better. He should have had words for this, all the right words to soothe away Patton's worries and set him right again. But he was so tired.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Patton said through shuddering sobs that dug his forehead harder into Janus' clavicle.

"It's okay," Janus said, concentrating hard on keeping the effects of his room at bay.

"Are you--" Patton sniffled " --sure you're okay?"

A rush of affection melted Janus' heart and he sighed and held Patton closer despite the shooting pain in his collarbone and the ache in his arms. Even in the midst of a post-breakdown breakdown, Patton was self-sacrificing (self- destructive) enough to check in on him. "You don't have a selfish bone in your body, do you?" Janus sighed, lamenting Patton’s bleeding heart. For some reason, this only made Patton cry harder. Janus cast his mind back to the last time Remus was this upset, found nothing, had to speculate. He and Remus and Virgil were self-sufficient, secretive. When it came to personal crises, they weathered them alone and bore the aftermath in stoicism. "Do you want me to play with your hair?"

"I don't know," Patton sobbed into Janus' chest.

Janus sighed and began to run his fingers through Patton's honey-colored hair, grateful that the thick material of his gloves kept their skin from touching. It was better this way, and a good reminder for Janus. He guarded his heart so closely for a reason.

 

Janus, despite the discomfort from the awkward weight distribution and the clammy feeling of cooled tears on his shirt, was half-asleep in the chair by the time Patton stopped crying.

"Sorry," Patton said, pulling away, and even with snot and tears all over his flushed cheeks, even with his eyes all red and puffy behind his fogged-up glasses and his hair standing up at strange diagonals from Janus' attempts at comfort, he was radiant.

"For having feelings?" Janus asked, gently imaging himself into a new, dry shirt.

"For making them your problem." Patton took his glasses off and began to polish them on the hem of his own shirt.

"Patton, I need you to know this." Janus waited until Patton looked at him before continuing, "I owe you nothing. If I had wanted you to leave, I would have asked you to leave and thought nothing of it."

Patton nodded and went back to polishing his glasses. They were silent for a long moment, during which Janus found himself unable to suppress a series of yawns. It must have been around 4:00 in the morning by this point. They had to have been the only ones awake.

"Hey, Janus," Patton said, finally putting his glasses back on. "You know The Breakfast Club?"

"Yes," Janus said distractedly, trying to figure out where Patton was going with this.

"This wasn't our version of that, was it?"

"What do you mean?"

"When tomorrow comes and we're back to, to some sort of normal… You'll still be my friend, right?"

Now here was a situation Janus had never once envisioned for himself. He had pictured winning over Roman, had pictured gaining Thomas' support. Never once had he expected real friendship with any of them, let alone Patton. "Yes," he said, feeling sick at the irony of it. He had been comfortable as Patton's enemy, was now yearning for his kiss… How could he be friends with Patton when he burned like this for Patton's wholehearted affection? Was he really just supposed to endure it?

Patton smiled, so sweet and earnest that Janus had to bite down on his tongue. "Good," he said. "Speaking of, do you wanna have breakfast with me?"

"Not right now, I hope," Janus teased.

"No, no, not right now." Patton muffled a yawn into his sleeve. "I guess I'd better go."

Janus nodded. "See you in the morning?"

"Um," said Patton, who didn't appear to have been listening. "Thank you, Janus. You didn't have to-- Well, thank you."

He sank out without another word.

Janus imagined himself into his pajamas, imagined the lights off and threw himself onto his bed. "Fuck."

 

--

 

Frigid air seeped from the hallway seeped under the crack where Janus' door stopped just short of the carpet. He didn't allow himself to notice, and continued to put his outfit on piece by agonizing piece. The cold air made his joints slow and achy, and he struggled to get the clasps done up. It was just as well that he hadn't put on his gloves yet. He had become quite adept at handling things while wearing them, but for this task, the bulky fabric would only get in the way. After all, just like his singular snake fang, his gloves were for aesthetics, not function.

Finally, he donned his hat and faced the door, forced to confront that fatal truth: He could never have what he wanted. The moment he had achieved his goal of Thomas’ acceptance, the triumph had slipped away in his hands to be replaced with a truly unattainable goal.

Memories from last night, the phantom sensation of Patton in his arms, teased him until he had to sneer at himself. Pathetic. He was acting pathetic. Falling for Patton was strategically inadvisable, even if he couldn’t help it, but actively pursuing him was out of the question. It was all-risk, no reward. Still, his treacherous heart fluttered, teasing him with the thought of Patton’s lips on his own, Patton’s hands on his body, sharing heat, deepening the kiss--

“All risk,” Janus said out loud to himself, “no reward.” A mantra to see him through. He opened his door, his gloved hand slipping a little on the polished brass of his doorknob, and nearly walked straight into Remus as he passed by with an armful of dismembered dolls.

“Well,” said Janus, tilting his head to better examine the pile of plastic limbs and bodies in Remus’ arms, “I won’t ask what you’re up to.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand, visualizing a piping hot cup of coffee. A shudder wrecked his concentration and he frowned. “Are you the reason it’s so cold in here?”

Remus ignored the question, his feverish eyes darting from Janus’ mouth to his hand to his face. “I knew you were up late last night. That’s why I came this way.” He gave a crooked but strangely boyish grin. “I wanted to know where you’d gotten off to. Or who you’d gotten off with. ”

Janus, to his horror, blushed. Fragmented images flashed through his head-- What if he had kissed Patton? And Patton had kissed back? Mask, mask, mask! “I was spreading the Gospel.”

“You were spreading something , though, weren’t you?” Remus shifted the dolls in his arms and held up a masculine torso. “I know I heard Big Daddy’s voice. Play a little game of Patton- Snake , did you?”

Janus swore he could hear porcelain cracking as his heart began to race. “In all seriousness, Remus, we did reach an agreement.”

“Sounds like you reached more than that.” Remus waggled his tongue.

God, he was relentless when he was on the scent of something. Janus hid his face behind his hands, realizing a moment too late that this display of shame would only add fuel to the fire. So he took the only option left and muttered, “Boundaries,” into his palms.

“Oh,” said Remus, leaning back on his heels. “ Oh. Janus, you didn’t .”

“Of course we didn't!” Janus hissed, dropping his hands.

"But you wanted to?"

“How much did you hear yesterday, anyway?”

“Oh, I heard the whole debacle, including that heartwarming little moment at the end,” Remus said, rocking forward onto his toes. “Thanks for putting in a good word for me, by the way.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Janus once again reached for words that simply weren’t there. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, cursing himself.

“No?” said Remus. “Not even a teeny tiny little bit?” He poked Janus in the chest with the plastic torso, still clenched in his left hand. “Right here?”

“You,” said Janus, “are just as evil as I am.”

Remus backed off with a grin, leaving Janus in doubt that he had ever even been angry in the first place. “So where are you off to now? Roman’s got this place awfully cold; gonna go warm Patton’s snake?”

“You already made a ‘Patton snake’ joke,” Janus said, slamming another mask onto his face to hide his blush. “But to answer your question, he asked me to join him for breakfast.”

“Aww.” Remus wiped fake tears from his cheeks. “You better not start spending too much time with him or I’m going to get jealous.”