#why are women always my downfall

[hearthtrob]

woowee thats a doozy and oh lord suddenly i am oh so in love

[rbfclassy]

more ex husband toji plsssss

BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji

INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child

baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?

baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket

baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up

baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does

baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)

baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you

baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that

baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.

baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees

baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”

baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet

baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”

baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father

baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better

baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said

baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom

baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”

baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it

baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly

baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too

baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi love can I get a tiramisu with a side hot coffee (w baby trapping) made freash by Max Verstappen ty 💛

bakery menu (complete)

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i have tons of items to choose from and i'd love for you to check them out! any driver is available (must be 18+, duh) so please feel free to throw your orders my way <3 i love the way your mind thinks, lovely anon. that's one way to get competition off the track! i hope you love the fic!

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, baby trapping, (technically) unprotected sex, jos verstappen jumpscare, missionary & mating press,

max knew the hunger of racing. it was almost a blood lust. it was a fire in the belly of a driver that pushed them to such limits that it would kill some. formula one drivers were all striving to be the best. max knew this quite well, spending years in a shadow he could never escape. he yearned for approval but it always came to him like a bitter pill. but, not you. you were the track's princess, praise came to you on a silver platter.

and it annoyed the hell out of max. many prayed for his downfall both on a driving level, but also on a personal level. people wanted him to fail, but those same people wanted you to fly high to a second world championship.

so when he saw his own father smiling at you and give you a firm hand shake followed by a pat on the back after a spectacular win. max knew there was one thing to do.

make sure you never stepped foot on the track again.

"c'mon, schat." max said as he leaned against the doorway of the motor home on the track. he saw you walk by back to your teams. he crossed his arms and watched you on shaky legs.

you made a face, "treasure?" you laughed, your voice bounced a little down the row of motor homes for the weekend, "max verstappen, do you forget who i am?"

he snickered, "currently you look like a shaky deer. why are you in heels, you never wear heels?" the two of you butt heads often. you seemed to get under each other's skin often enough.

"it's called going on a date, max. have you heard of those? plus, shouldn't you be fucking some grid bunny tonight? we are on your home turf, might as well trap some poor girl with your bastard."

he laughed louder, "funny. were you having a night on the town? i bet you opened your legs to whatever manager you could find. whoever would give you the biggest contract." his words were biting and so were yours. while it was always better to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

it was easier to catch a rival with vitriol than kindness.

you got your heels off and threw them one after the other towards him before you stopped over bare foot to get in his face. you got onto the small porch and he was all smiles.

"do you have-"

"of course. after all, you're not the first grid bunny of the weekend." then pulled you into the motor home with a slam of the front door. before you could chew him out for that term being used towards you. he had you pressed against the door of the motor home with your leg wrapped around his hip and his large hand pushing up the already short skirt of your dress.

he had no interest in any of the fans with his face plastered across their fat tits. while the women of his home country were beautiful, his eyes were set on the snapping jaws of another driver.

his lips down your neck, teeth grazed across your pulse point and it made you shudder. nipples grew hard under his touch. he started to grope your breasts and you moaned out loud in the near empty motor home.

clothes were shed, leaving you vulnerable. it was a surprise that you made it to the bed. for a brief moment as you dragged him to the bedroom, max thought he was going to breed his future wife on the linoleum wooden floor. and max may have wanted you bred asap but, he wasn't going to hurt your poor elbows and knees. his wife deserved the best, you were going to be doing a big thing. giving birth to the next legend of the track.

"schat." he said softly his mouth to your ear. his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled to his chest. his hands then went to your breasts where he groped the flesh, near bruising them. they were only going to get prettier once you got pregnant. he felt lucky tonight.

"max. fuck." you groaned before you managed to pull yourself away from him and get onto the bed. you propped yourself up on your elbows as you gazed at him. he eyed your beauty as he got closer to you and the bed. his cock at full attention.

oh yeah, you'd never step foot in a car again after tonight. well give it a few weeks and then you'll be off the track for good. he got between your legs on the bed. he got those lovely thighs around him as he continued to gaze at your figure.

"pretty thing." he said, "should i be worried that another man touched you tonight? or were you a good girl?"

you looked at him, "you're not my husband. max. you don't own me."

max smiled before he leaned over you, his bare cock almost slipped into your slick hole as he grabbed a condom from the box in the nightstand. you were trying to get out from under him before he slipped in without protection. a condom was what you thought was your savior. but, max had pricked little holes in it earlier, when he found out you'd be back to the track late.

you watched him get the condom on, the low light made it almost impossible to notice that there were small tears int he tip of the condom. with enough force of his hips, max could probably tear through it. you held onto his forearms as he rubbed his cock up against you for a few moments before he sank inside your sweet cunt. it made him groan and feel a heat in him.

"perfect little thing. i bet you thought about me while you were out. thought about all the thing i'd do you that's why you came in here, right? because you knew you'd get that cunt fucked out."

you felt your ears burn as he continued to rut against you. you dug your short nails into his arms as he thrusted against you. his cock was like a bully, just like the rest of him. but it made your toes curl as you laid under him.

max verstappen was your rival and now he was too busy gorging on your cunt like he owned it. like you were a couple. but, little did you know. the plan was going well in max's mind. it wasn't a difficult one anyway. he just needed his achy, thick cock inside of your gooey cunt and finish inside of you. the rest was biology's doing so he could take his hands off the wheel for that.

and if you weren't pregnant there was a whole other leg of the season plus the off season to really make sure it took. but, you strived for perfection, it was written in your dna. so you'd be good and take him the first time. let his baby sprout in your sweet womb. no need to think about racing when you're caring for his child.

"jij bent de mijne." he said like a promise as he picked up the pace. his cock shoved into the softest parts of you. for such a bitch on the track, your pussy was gummy soft and just pulled him in.

you whined and arched your back. max enjoyed the heavy rise and fall of your pretty breasts. oh, you were beautiful. maybe he was lucky, giving you a baby now. not allow anyone else on the grid to get a taste of you. because you were the kind of woman that men got addicted to.

he picked your hips up further and started to really work at it. your legs were over his shoulders while he fucked you with such vigor that you couldn't find it in you to grip onto the covers under your back. your toes curled while he pounded into you. heat flashed across your body and you felt like you were on fire.

you panted and moaned while max was determined to breed you. you'd be such a pretty mother to his children. did you think he was stopping at one? no. because with you he was going to breed champions and that fact made pleasure lick up in his stomach. he watched you squirm a little as you neared climax and it made max hot all over.

yeah, it was only right that he bred you. keep you off the track and at home with the kids. no need to step on anymore toes in formula one. retire with grace and raise his kids. put that hot feminine body of yours to good use, grow them well in your soft womb. be good for your husband.

he leaned further, pushing you further into yourself to kiss you hotly on the lips once more. he felt your cunt tighten around him as you panted heavily. he had you in a full mating press as his cock bruised your sweet insides. poor thing, marked forever by your rival. the kissed between you two were hot and left heat dripping through your body. his cock felt heavy between your legs. pushing you to your limit. that was a good future mrs. verstappen. you climaxed, he watched bliss crossed your face as you tensed up then relaxed. your heart hammered in your ears as you laid under him, knees to your chest and over his shoulders while his leaky blunt cock head hit against you.

he came soon after, but even when he stilled to a stop. he kept the position to make sure every last drop knew where to go. now wasn't the time for mishaps. he knew that the condom was fully torn at the tip. there was nothing protecting that pretty cunt of yours.

sorry, schat, that was the game. and as max looked into your dazed eyes, he thought that you didn't mind. when he put your legs down and got you on your stomach.

you whimpered a little and he shushed you with heated kiss. he didn't even try to pretend he changed the condom before he was back to being inside of you. you two had a long night together.

max hungered for a lot of things, but as he listened to your sweet whimper and moans, he hungered for one thing. your cunt happily drooling down his cock.

-

"think he's going to do it?" max asked, his arms crossed over your rounded middle. his head on your shoulder as you both watched your eldest son do a second lap on the track.

you looked at him and replied, "of course he will. he's our son." your son, remko was eight now and had taken to the track like nothing else. maybe max's plan didn't work when he made you retire years earlier due to being pregnant with your son. you would eventually step on the track again, first watching your husband win three more championships and now your son taking an interest in it.

you turned back to your son as he hugged the curves of the track. you worried your bottom lip a little. it was a little too much hugging for your liking. you rubbed your lower back. maybe it was the pregnancy emotions getting to you. making you worry.

your career ended after two championships. something you held with pride. you were married to max now, had a son and expecting another in a few short months. as max rubbed your middle and kissed your cheek. you did get one thing out of it though, a promise from your young son that while he would race under the verstappen last name, he'd happily race under your country's flag.

so while you couldn't bring your nation joy, you'd be nothing but smiles when your son held the flag high in due time. some would've considered that max trapped you with a baby (or rather two). but those same blue eyes and charming smile still lured you in. even though you had your doubts about that night being an 'accident', there was nothing you could really do now. both your boys needed their father.

"i love you." max said, hand wide across your swollen middle.

you looked at him, your rival turned husband. as your son crossed the finish line for his practice, you kissed your husband on the lips. the time of the laps were called and you said to max, "i love you too." then watched your husband pull away to congratulate remko on a good practice.

knowing your luck both of your kids will be in racing. and you knew if max had his way, the entire future grid would have the verstappen last name. <3

[comicaurora]

I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

[genderkoolaid]

Hi. You always post a lot of info so I'm wondering if you might be able to help me. Is there a difference between radfems and TERFs? Are they both bad? If so, why are they bad? Are there any dog whistles to look out for when it comes to these groups? Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable. I've seen a lot of people pointing out that they're bad, but never really saying why. I want to make sure I follow intersectional feminism and not those groups.

Radical feminism is the name of a branch of feminism. It originally got its name because it advocated for extreme changes to society to address female oppression, but developed into a specific worldview which I (off the top of my head) would define by certain traits:

Oppositional sexism. Men and women (or "males" and "females") are fundamentally opposed. Oftentimes this is bioessentialist, arguing that this opposite comes from biology, but it may also be framed as a political necessity; a radfem might argue that gender and sex are fake BUT we need male vs female as political identities in order to identify our "allies" and "enemies". Regardless, males and females are physically distinct and political enemies. You can tell a man from a woman, either from their body or their behavior, the two categories cannot overlap, and no other gender/sex-labels are relevant.

Fatalistic perspectives on patriarchy. Not only are males and females opposed, but this cannot be changed. This may be bioessentialist (the opposition comes from something in our nature, which cannot change) or gender-essentialist (the opposition comes from socialization which occurs as a child due to outside pressure and/or internal gender identity, and cannot change.) Focus is not placed on an ideal future where men and women are equals and social partners. Instead, there is a sense that there is no way to truly have a society with men and women where males do not oppress females, or try to. Sometimes this is more implicit and other times you have people who explicitly believe in creating & enforcing female-only societies.

Misogyny as the source of all oppression, or at least the most important & the one people should identity themselves as before anything else. Those who call themselves intersectional generally only really care about other issues to the extent that they affect women in some way. Part of the downfall of the original radical feminists was the fact that the dominant groups were upper-class white women, who ignored racism and classism and silenced poor women & women of color, insisting that anti-racist and anti-classist action distracted from The Movement & that calling out other women's bigotry was anti-feminist.

A general suspicion of sexual desire and sex, often expressing itself as whorephobia (anti-sex work) and anti-kink attitudes, specifically under the argument that they are inherently misogynistic and abusive. Sex is associated with men and maleness, which again, are inherently the enemy. Sex WITH men, or with a person or object that could be construed as male, is especially bad.

The impetus to make your personal life As Feminist As Possible– "The personal is political." That isn't a bad slogan on its own (it's true), but with radical feminists it expresses itself as a high standard of Radfemmaxing. You should be celibate if you are attracted to men, or become a political lesbian, you shouldn't be masculine OR feminine (anti-butch & femme sentiment), you should reject makeup and shaving, you should cut off male relatives and even abort male fetuses– and you must identify with womanhood and femaleness, while rejecting any identity related to manhood and maleness. It's not just that you should examine your desires and choices and question why you feel the way you feel (again, this is a good thing). Radfems have the belief that they already know the correct answer to that Introspection, and if you come to any other conclusion than theirs (I like wearing makeup because it's fun, I want to be a man because it fits me), then it's taken as proof you are still brainwashed.

TERFS are trans-exclusive radfems. They believe that being trans is not real, or at least not healthy or an acceptable feminist stance. TERFs tend to use the language of "sex" and "males vs females." Many use the term "gender critical," meaning they see gender as fake and damaging, while sex is real and the proper platform for feminist analysis. I once saw a TERF define her stance as "it's not degrading because its feminine, its feminine because its degrading." They believe in things like autogynophilia and rapid onset gender dysphoria, and attribute transgender identity with sexual trauma, internalized homophobia and internalized misogyny.

TIRFs are trans inclusive. They believe that transgender feelings are natural and should be listened to and followed, and that feminism should take gender identity into account. However, they still have a "male vs female" worldview. They may argue that transgender men's internal gender feelings led them to internalize male socialization, while trans women internalized female socialization, meaning that all trans people's experiences with gender and misogyny align most with cis people who share their gender identity.

In both cases, anti-nonbinary exorsexism and intersexism are unavoidable. TERFs will label intersex people as "males/females with a disorder" and attribute nonbinary identity either to internalized misogyny (FTX) or to avoid being held accountable for male privilege (MTX). TIRFs similarly fail to acknowledge how someone's socialization can be affected by intersexism. MTX people are either trans women in denial or flamboyant cis men; FTX people are either trans men avoiding their privilege, or cis women avoiding their privilege*.

Not everyone who uses radical feminist arguments or shares the general perspective openly identified as radfem. There are many "cryptos" who purposefully obscure their political identity to spread radfem ideas in queer & feminist spaces. Other people adopt the general ideas of radical feminism without consciously identifying as one, because of cryptos and how pop feminism often adopts their flashier ideas. So it's important to understand these qualities as on a scale, with some versions being more subtle while others are explicit.

Radical feminism always reduces trans experiences (& experiences in general) to a simple, uncrossable binary, based either in gender or sex. Nuance and cros- or non-binary gender experiences are seen as anti-feminist and aligned with the patriarchy, if not part of a targeted plan to hurt feminist movements.

*the idea of "AFAB privilege" is. a thing in some people's analysis of transmisogyny.

[echantedtoon]

Perhaps In Another Life P2

Part 2 of this let's go!

This is inspired by a similar post by @o3o-aya and I wanted to put my own take now. Daki will be included but their own parts will be PLATONIC!! COMPLETELY PLATONIC!!

Summery is the reactions of the Upper/Lower Moons watching you run back to your Haishira s/os upon their defeat. Will stay sfw etc.

Warnings for yandere themes, kidnapping mentions, death, Karaku and Enmu ARE their own warnings, possibly some innuendos,etc.

Zohakuton will be included as a part of Hantengu's but bit he's written as PLATONIC!!

ENMU:

Your husband warned you not to get on trains.

This was the reason why. How you ended up being trapped by a sadistic gremlin like demon who took fascination in you. First it was just an idea to hold you as bait for your Flame Haishira husband seen sneaking around the trains lately but it quickly became a more intimate fascinating for him as he watched your dreams and thought the tears you had as you begged to be reunited with your husband was so delicious.

So that's why he cursed those brats who killed him and glared with the hatred of a thousand nightmares at the Haishira who gave him a similar stare of his own holding you unconscious body in his arms.

However he's smugly satisfied knowing he forever put the fear of loosing each other in your minds. His part will always be in your minds.

GYUTARO (+PLATONIC UME/DAKI):

He knew something was up when Daki brought back a woman that was infiltrating the houses to find them. Stupid really. But he had her comb through the other houses quickly in order to cut down on anyone.

She ended up finding three other women including you.

You were so pretty. So pretty it made his sister pause seeing her brother's reaction to you and gave her the idea of keeping you as a kind of doll and gifting you to her brother. He agreed. Asked his sister to get rid of your wives. Got angry when he learnt you married. Got angrier when your husband showed up looking for his wives.

And now here he was crying out to his sister and blaming her for allowing those damned brats to find where they hid you. Watching with tears as you were group hugged by your wives. Clinging to your severely injured husband as poison pulsed through his body.

He wanted to cry out for you. But his mouth was already disintegrated. All he could do was cry a few miserable angry tears and hope in your next life he could claim you first.

HANTENGU (+CLONES):

You were kind and compassionate. That's what the Love Haishira loved most about her girlfriend, a.k.a You. And you loved her just as much. Unfortunately it was that kindness that was your downfall. You showed some kindness outta fear when you ran into the Upper Moon Four, and he had taken you.

Deluding himself into believing that you two were in love all along and the evil slayer brainwashed you into thinking you were in love with her instead.

So he couldn't stop sobbing when he saw the pink haired woman he had been fighting swinging you around in her arms happy to have you back. You were crying too, latching onto her as she twirled you around.

COULDN'T YOU SEE HE WAS THE VICTIM ALL ALONG?!

SEKIDO:

DAM SLAYERS!! DAM YOU!! HOW DARE THEY TAKE YOU FROM HIM!! HOW DARE YOU EMBRACE THAT WOMAN!! He's angry with everyone until the bitter end as he watches through Zohakutan's eyes.

URAMI:

Like Sekido he's so angry and bitter! He resents the way you chose your wide over them and he resents the pink haired Haishira most of all.

AIZETSU:

CRYING. SOBBING. He wants to yell out to you and beg you to come back. They'll be better he promises! Unfortunately his tears and turmoil can't be heard outside of Zohakutan as they all disintegrate into coming.

KARAKU:

He's mostly numb to be honest. He wants to say something but doesn't know what to say. He couldn't anyways even if he tried being trapped inside with the other three. But he does feel deep regret making you cry like that.

UROGI:

His first instinct is to try and make Zohakutan screech at them. He panics when he realizes that he's unable to do that. Like Aizetsu, panics and cries from within where no one can hear them.

ZOHAKUTAN:

Like Urami and Sekido, he's angry and resentful. However being the clone of hatred it's amplified to the extremes as he hears the other sevens' mixed reactions.

[arandomdai]

Persephone Lost Herself To Marriage

⚠️ Warning: I'm just saying my opinions (and theories) like everyone else. So put your tin foil hats on, it's going to be a LONG read. Enjoy!!!⚠️

• The Realization

This was/is a cry for help. She's finally admitted something that we (some of us) already noticed. The fact that she's so worried about her blue corpse of a man's feelings, while in denial about killing hundreds if not thousands of mortals in seconds...is nasty work. Like okay you don't know yourself, good we are getting somewhere. But are you willing to change your ways like finally admitting that your Mom was right, Minthe was right (about you and your man), Zeus was right (where he says they didn't know each other long), finally realize your selfish and a murderer, etc. Like I wanna see the change, not this boohoo act. And speaking of Demeter, she is a little bit at fault for why Persephone acts like this. If she would've told her about being a FG, teach her how to defend herself, help her control her powers or help make her own decisions, none of this wouldn't happen. Now Persephone (this her own fault here)is trapped with guilt, a blu gru, and a whole population of shades coming in. Once this is over, I pray to God that she wakes up, and leave that man, live in the mortal realm, and hopefully come to terms/works on herself to know who she is because her being a Queen is not one of them.

•Hades Is Her Downfall

This man never loved her. He wanted to sleep with her knowing he had a girlfriend (Minthe at the time) and when she was only 19 years old !!!(smdh 🤢😒), somehow he shows up in her nightmare saying, "I Know That I Can Smell Your Ambitions As They Rot At Your Feet.", he didn't let Persephone tell him what happened, lies about everything, disrespects Demeter, never gave Thanatos a real apology, never actually going to therapy, etc, need I say more? This man genuinely hates powerful women. He sabotaged Demeter's right to rule the mortal realm, gets angry when women stand up for themselves, preys on the vulnerable and young, dangles money over them, had an affair with Hera behind his brothers back, etc, and Persephone still thinks he's husband material... chile. Like how come she doesn't see those horrible qualities and notice that he brings out the worst in her? Real men don't treat women like this. To be fair, that first genocide she caused was all her fault, like yes they were playing in her face, but she didn't need to start killing people. But you know what she did, she was willing to help the shades get into the Underworld (and he was mad about that 😒). Now we're on to our second genocide, and this man was the cause of this as well (mostly her fault but still). The fact he said "I can't stop her from trying." Like yes you can Blunocchio 🙄. I'm so tired of him, and his evil ways. Persephone really needs to understand that man was never in her corner, and if he was, he would've left her alone from the very beginning. The lesson is don't EVER let a man be your downfall and try to make you feel powerless. If he can't take how powerful you are, he was never the one and he's an insecure a**hole.

• There Was Always Someone

Hydros tried to warn Gaia

People thought Rhea was stupid for loving Kronos

Probably someone close to the Missing Goddess tried to warn her

Demeter warned Persephone

Do we see the pattern? Constantly losing yourself in love with abusive men, getting your powers drained because they wanted to prove that they were worth loving, and trying to prove the haters wrong (looking at you author)? Well, yes. Persephone had her twenties to look forward to (school, TOGEM, and starting her future), but made a man child the #1 priority. Had her thirties (self reflection, getting her shit together, realize she can do bad by herself.), but still managed to keep him in the #1 priority slot, instead of her and her own mother. Like does she not get that her mom is her real best friend? These fertility goddesses (excluding Metis 🤢) wish that they would've listened to those people/or families, and saw from their point of view that their men weren't no good, and go from there. Like did Persephone ever think about what Zeus told her ( his back story about what happened to Rhea), nope. Just ignored it because she never listens, and loves finding out the hard way 🙄😒. If the author wanted a real ('cause let's be honest, it's not) feminist retelling, she could've had Persephone look at the fertility goddesses differently, Seeing there struggles, learn that Demeter just didn't want to see her get hurt, and walk away from him (but in a perfect world I guess 🫤). Remember y'all there is always someone in your corner that is looking out for you and/or showing they love you.

• Persephone's Fate

Until she starts listening to the right people, know how to think for herself, and realize that man ain't crap, she's doomed. Years from now, she's going to be trapped in a marriage full of regrets and shattered dreams, sparkling and useless if you will. Hades will continue to use and abuse her. Hell, wouldn't be surprised if he started cheating on her like he cheated on Minthe. Also, wouldn't be shocked if she becomes the next Hera, after all she was just her stand in. Hades would take most of her powers, someone defeats him, and puts him in prison somewhere, she starts seeing him, and no one else can. Would that be something? I mean he was in her dreams telling her that her ambitions will rot. Also people wouldn't want to come around her, and she gotta live with that for the rest of her life. Demeter, lasion, and her son living life to the fullest, so who can she call? She is stuck in a tragic cautionary tale of a fertility goddess. Someone that wanted to prove the haters wrong, wanted to be worthy of loving, and a victim of a man's abuse and manipulations.

[drbased]

It's interesting to me how patriarchial ideology generates all these specific paranoias

dominance is about proving who is best -> men dominate women -> women are fundamentally masochistic -> women seek out the most dominant male -> but what if that dominant male isn't me?

I was listening to a thing about satanism just now and it was mentioned that one of the beliefs about witches is that they lust after demons, and my immediate thought was how men are so desperate to entirely fabricate a view of female sexuality for their own ends and then get terrified of the natural conclusion of that. Because if women are fundamentally masochistic, and demons exist, then of course women are going to want to submit to them, right?

It's built into the psychology of racism as well - black men are more bestial and violent, but also violence is a way of gaining dominance, and regardless women are bestial and masochistic, so then a paranoia is formed where white women secretly desire to submit to black men - to debase themselves in the most obvious way, the veneer of the purity of whiteness stripped back to reveal the inherent whore nature of the female underneath. and of course there's overlap with the fundamentals of incel ideology - these men are obsessed with women's degeneracy and masochism causing them to submit to the 'wrong' men causing some spiritual downfall of society. and the three examples all blur and mix together, associating blackness with bestiality, satanism/occult practices with bestiality, and said bestiality with moral degeneracy and disruption of some natural healthy order where the men who do dominance 'properly' should be on top.

and it's all entirely made up. the fact that there is no true definition of 'healthy dominance' is entirely what fuels this paranoia. in reality, dominance is just harm and abuse, but men have to try to find a way to invent some righteous and healthy form of said harm and abuse - it has to be codified and controlled. that way there are always scapegoats: the men who do masculinity 'wrong' onto which women's fears can be directed, so that men as a class never get to be held accountable. men will hold onto these paranoias so they never have to engage with the underlying ideology. the benefits of dominance are too potent. this is the classic 'patriarchy hurts men too' - the ideology of patriarchy is exactly the same as that of self-harm; the harm becomes a closed feedback loop, a sunk-cost fallacy whereby the self's personhood becomes reliant on a destructive lie. men will literally kill themselves because they lose their ability to recognise the value of human life, instead seeing their identity as part of a collective narrative, and so murder-suicide becomes a form of martyring to send a message to other men and women that men will dominate at all costs, and that said domination is righteous is a pseudo-spiritual sense.

so much of our societal energy has been wasted on this. and now as we're on the cusp of recognising that dominance isn't righteous, we turn our attentions to how bad it is for men that they're hurt by the psychological impact of this ideology. in doing so our attentions are redirected, away from the benefits of why this ideology exists in the first place, and therefore accidentally reinforcing it. the psychology of the abuser is always that his narrative is of greater importance than anyone else, and the moment attention is taken away from those he hurts is the moment we capitulate to his ever-consuming demands. we give him an inch, he will take a mile. because for all the focus on getting men to be softer, more open etc. without also holding them accountable, we're simply adding to their narrative through giving them a superficial redemption arc. said softened male will still implicitly believe in his dominance over women even whilst he explicitly claims to be against dominance as a concept. that's how we end up with pro-porn and pro-bdsm 'leftists' - those who seek to reject the pseudo-spiritual righteousness of dominance but loop right back around into believing it can be codified and controlled, whilst utilising that to scapegoat the right-wing, who in turn scapegoat the leftwing as their dominance is codified and controlled in the form of traditional gender roles. the patriarchal system then resumes as usual, a bit shaken in confidence perhaps, generating much more powerful paranoias (e.g. incels) that then also get folded back into the fix in the form of further scapegoats, rinse and repeat.

[thevirgodoll]

Doll Diaries: 10 Ways to Begin Living the Doll Life.

To introduce my brand and my mission, I have created the first guide on how to Live the Doll Life.

This is the first of many posts to build around what a Doll means.

This is a compilation of all of my advice from past posts, my values and things I recommend aspiring to. It's an initiation of some sorts, and will be a sneak peek to what my website and Patreon will entail. This covers who you want to be (your ideal self), who you are right now (your current self), your measure of confidence and value (your worth), and your reality of who you are (your traits and individuality).

Welcome to the Dollhouse!!!

A huge part of what made me choose "Doll" as a brand is the movie, Life Size (2000).

In Life Size, Eve stood up for what was right, was ambitious, and learned how to honor her feelings as a real person. I highly recommend giving it a watch (I haven't seen the second movie, only referencing the first) to really get a feel of the energy I want to cultivate and embody. Now, let's get into it!

1. Embrace everything you already are.

Just because you are in a pursuit of becoming someone new does not mean you have to discard the things that make you who you are. Embracing who you already are and who you were is key to building self confidence. Who you are now is worthy of love and gratitude.

Ask yourself:

What can I forgive myself for?

What are my current strengths and weaknesses?

How can I show myself gratitude today?

2. Love people and speak life into them.

A true Doll does not engage in taking other women down. The biggest issue in today's world is that negativity has become a hot commodity. It is so insidious once it gets started, and it has been normalized to tear other people down in shady, subtle comments. These things bear no fruit. Understand now that talking badly about people and hating them only increases their sun.

What makes the difference between a Doll and another person is that everything she says has a purpose. Before speaking ask yourself:

Is this necessary? Is this true?

What do I gain from saying this?

Would I want to hear this?

These questions will make you distinguish between feelings and facts. You may not even know why you don't like someone at first, but asking yourself critical questions will teach you to see things from a different perspective. Most of the time, this has taught me to keep certain things to myself! If you don't know what you feel yet, the best thing to do is be quiet. It really is true that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. ***There are obviously exceptions to the rule, such as emotional abuse, bullying, etc. Defend yourself. Just don't be the one to be a catalyst to someone's downfall.

3. Be a student of life.

In this Dollhouse, we are eager to learn!!! If you want to lead others, you have to be willing to admit that you can be wrong. Even though Dolls are well adored and well educated, we aren't always right. Well, a lot of the time I am, but that's not the point!

Ask yourself:

What is this trying to teach me? What can I take away from this?

When was the last time I opened my mind to something new?

What could I have done differently? If I am resistant to feedback or change in this present moment, why?

4. Take pride in your appearance.

We aren't perfect...but we might as well be the closest thing to it. Make the decision now that you want to look your best every day. This doesn't mean wearing a full face of makeup 24/7, but this does mean being put together. A Doll should never leave the house without looking presentable, and if this is difficult, it's time for a change! Remember in The Princess Diaries when Mia got a makeover to become a princess? She looked like a completely different person and all it took was a new routine in beauty maintenance.

Obviously, you don't have to go to the extremes like she did. There's nothing wrong with glasses, thick curly hair, or thick eyebrows. It's all about making those things cohesive, which is the point of the makeover. I suggest you go on Pinterest or other platforms to find inspiration for what you want to look like. Create a routine around looking your best for YOU...only you know what flatters you the most.

Ask yourself:

What do I feel when I look in the mirror?

What influences me? What does a Doll look like to me?

What would a physical change do for me right now? And why am I doing it?

5. Have people in your life that align with you.

Friends can inspire us, or derail us. It is extremely hard as you get older to sustain friendships because once you leave grade school, there aren't any commonalities keeping you around people you know. Sometimes, we hang onto people longer than we need to.

A verse from the Bible that I often keep in mind regarding friends is Proverbs 12:26:

The righteous choose their friends carefully, but the way of the wicked leads them astray.

Ask yourself:

Would I take advice from this person? Why or why not?

What are the pros and cons of having this person around? How do I feel after hanging out with them?

What do they do for me? Is this reciprocal or transactional?

Is this person bringing me closer to or further away from my dreams, goals, and aspirations? Do they value what I value?

During conflict, how has this friend treated me? Do I trust them? Can I go to them when I need them?

As far as relationships, that is different for everyone but the questions are relatively the same. Some people stop their entire journey towards becoming the woman of their dreams because of love. Guard your heart!!!

Ask yourself:

Does this person align with my beliefs and values? Have I vetted them to see what type of person they are?

How does this person take care of themselves spiritually, mentally, and physically?

What is their story? Is this person aware of that story (whether it's with family, exes, friends, etc.)?

What can they offer me that I cannot give to myself?

Why do I want to be with this person?

6. Truly begin to believe you ARE 1 of 1.

Everyone is different, especially you. Your energy is highly sought after, all you have to do is acknowledge that. In order to live this lifestyle, you gotta appreciate differences in people around you so you can avoid guilting yourself into assimilation/conformity.

Individuality is everything... don't trade that for the approval of others. Social media has revealed how much originality women lack... so be a breath of fresh air. Think of this as Miley Stewart becoming her alter ego, Hannah Montana. The best way to see the new you is a alter ego. Celebrities have used alter egos to embody a side of them that is full of tenacity and candor...basically what they wish they could be. Real life examples are: Sasha Fierce (Beyoncé), Roman (Nicki Minaj).

The arc of an alter ego comes full circle. At some point in the Hannah Montana franchise, Miley came to terms that she lacked nothing in being who she really was because the star power was already in her. Therefore, she let her go and embodied those qualities in herself as "Miley". After hard work it will be the same for you, and you will appreciate who you are even more and not have to separate the two.

Ask yourself:

Who am I? What makes me special?

What do I love most about myself?

What is my signature and aesthetic?

What are the qualities of my alter ego/archetype?

7. Be a woman of substance.

It's useless to work towards being an it girl if you have nothing to talk about. So many women have star quality on the outside, but they are surface level and it prevents them from being seen positively and it takes away their chance of being an it girl.

Learn about current events. Learn about past events. Learn about events that are yet to come, and form an opinion.

You have Google at your disposal, so there's really no excuse to be lazy. Find your passion...most people are empty because they don't do anything they love. Be well versed in multiple topics. I know we say beauty and brains, but it really is hard to come by these days. Most people do not read anymore, nor do they take the time out to learn things themselves.

When it comes to school, that counts as substance as well if you're actually taking classes you're getting something out of (which is a whole other post). I would be remiss if I did not mention that education isn't for everyone. But for those of you that are going to college or are in college like me, this is one of the most important stages of your life. You're on the cusp of greatness. Life happens, but no matter what, we gotta get that degree no matter how long it takes.

Ask yourself:

What's going on in the world right now?

When is the last time I read a book or did something educational?

What are my hobbies? What are my habits? How do these things speak to my intelligence and who I am?

What are the things I want out of my education and what are my goals for this upcoming semester?

8. Dedicate time to your healing.

Just because everything looks perfect, doesn’t mean it will always be that way. This journey towards being that girl will not get rid of your need to heal.

Healing is a rugged path that one must travel their entire life...your journey in becoming the person of your dreams never ends. Give yourself grace on things that you didn't know before.

As always, I recommend journaling to understand your thought process. Sometimes, I look back at my entries in my diary and realize that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Sometimes, though, they were...and for my healing process it became crucial to (when I have the capacity) revisit the moments that shaped my perspective.

I know everyone says this, but there no shame in getting help. No amount of Doll Diaries I give you or confidence lessons/advice from others will matter if you are ignoring what fills your heart with dread at night. Like Megan thee Stallion says, bad b*tches have bad days too.

I am in therapy and I take medications for my mental illnesses, and that made all the difference. Tips are in my mental health tag.

I recommend a spiritual routine that works for you. This may include meditating, praying, going to church, taking quiet time...it's all up to you, but it gives me purpose and structure when feeling existential.

Dedicate life to something bigger than yourself. Remain on the path by upkeeping discipline. Outside influences can lead you astray, but you are the difference between stumbling and getting up, and stumbling and remaining flat on your face. This will involve giving up certain things, such as music or shows or even people that push you further away from what you believe in.

Lastly, have a list of coping mechanisms that you review in crisis. Often, things get overwhelming and we won’t get the chance to sit down and journal or go read something. With that, it’s helpful to make a list of things that you know will help you cope and survive no matter what (while acknowledging the absence of these means you’re getting bad again.)

Here is a very small portion of my list:

cleaning my space

spending time with my dog

playing video games

writing, drawing, music

Ask yourself:

When's the last time I had a break without feeling guilty or lazy?

What positive practices do I have in place to keep me stable? What negative practices do I have in place that prevent me from being stable?

How am I currently working towards improving my mental state? What do I know about myself mentally and spiritually, and how can I use that to transcend?

9. Learn the art of detachment.

People talk about being unbothered, but I don't think everyone truly understands what that means. In this Dollhouse, unbothered does not mean being nonchalant and void of all emotions. Feelings are natural, and I am not sure where someone mixed that up. What creates "unbothered" energy and "detachment" is by realizing you cannot control everything and that majority of the time, it isn't personal. This is one of the hardest lessons out there.

Ask yourself:

Is this really in my control?

How can I focus on the present moment?

And ultimately, remember you cannot fix or please anyone. Keep your composure even in the face of negativity. Your reactions and perceptions to everything you deal with is the most important thing, and will be the common denominator when it comes down to your experiences. Two books I read that changed my perspective and helped me maintain this lifestyle on this was The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz and Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty.

10. Above all, live in YOUR world!!!

Make your world exclusive. Keep certain things for yourself so it retains sacredness. Be your own best friend before anyone else. Learn to embrace your own company. Don't always be accessible. Cultivate richness in your life...be willing to take risks and have a variety of experiences.

The main and most important question to ask yourself is: What does my dream world look like?

This is where the Doll Life comes into play. Barbie was marketed as being an all around sweetheart and "girl boss" with the dream life. Bratz were marketed as having individuality and a dream world experience driven by passion.

Both have core values in making sure young girls dreamed big and remained authentic. Honorable mention: Disney, as they did a great job at emphasizing dreams can come true with Disney princesses.

What I want my version of a Doll Life to be marketed as is a world where we indulge in endless possibilities and be multiple versions of ourselves at once. Where we feel like something wonderful could happen, even in the midst of trials.

We can be gentle, yet demanding. We can be feminine with masculine energy, and vice versa. We don't have to choose between one aesthetic or the other. We don't have to conform to the world, because we are in it and not of it. Dolls are seen as "perfect", and that's just the thing, I don't want my brand to be a cookie cutter definition! That's why I say I am the Doll that no one can play with. To be a Doll means to be uniquely you and standing out amongst the rest. It's a mindset, it's a lifestyle.

Don't box yourself in... remember growing up the dream life of Bratz and Barbie refused to box themselves in and remained true to themselves. Live without limits!!! Dreams really can come true. And this Dollhouse is a safe space to DREAM!!!

Even if you don't believe it now, day by day, if you start dedicating yourself to this and remain congruent with your philosophy, you will be more than you could ever imagine. It took so much time for me to do this, but my life is forever changed. So indulge in your wishes, and create your own "life of luxury" or "dream world". Simply live by YOUR rules, and use mine as a outline to get started. I can't wait to see what all of you come up with. I hope this helps Dolls!!! *gives you the keys to your suite in the dollhouse* Proud of you!!!

xoxo,

thevirgodoll ♡

see also:

confidence tag

other doll diaries

advice

[fiamat12]

I find it so funny when people here say things like: “N would not openly shade anyone, even with hints like music!” “N is way too kind to behave in any way that might be hurtful to others!” “N would never revel in someone’s downfall, especially if they are connected to special people in her life(L)?”(as if L ever in any way showed any signs of care for A publicly, or even gave her any particular significance, it has always been loud public opinions and her SM games) Can we please stop putting celebrities on pedestals, they are not above being HUMAN. They can get hurt, frustrated, angry, and lush out, or get fed up and react. N is kind, caring, humble and charming, yes. But is she is not some saintly paragon. She is a WOMAN. Human woman who is also sassy and wickedly witty. Who between the tea and “the tea,” chooches later, who enjoys reality shows for the DRAMA I would bet money on that, who lets no one put her down (“why I worn a bra? Because I liked!” “Women with my body type? With perfect breast you mean.”) who defends her man’s eye color online, for havens sake. Whose friends jokingly, or perhaps not so much, call Shady Whistledown!! That girl created a lot of drama and problems for N, stirred fandom up, and helped drag L through sh*t. And you honestly think that N would not respond? That she would not given the chance, tastefully, subtly, throw some shade if she wanted? Come on!

We obviously don’t know what are her real motivations and intentions behind things she says and does. May we be overreaching? Absolutely. May she be giving us real clues, and hints? Also possibly. But don’t make it seem as if she is oh so above it all!

Because anything is possible, N is HUMAN!! (even though she does look like a Goddess)

No notes.

[yourclumsyguardianangel]

the seven + a few others future headcanons

percy:

becomes a high school teacher

teaches high school marine biology (idk how it is in other schools but when we hit sophomore year we got to choose different bio classes ie: marine bio, ag bio, med bio + regular bio)

also teaches the mythology elective and is the swim team coach

annabeth:

we already know this queen is an architect with obvious inspiration from greek architecture

learns how to make blue food for percy and their kids from sally

has traveled all over the world looking at different architecture

learns the basics of many languages so shes able to communicate with the locals

her and leo team up to build a small school near camp half-blood for year rounders so everyone can learn consistently but dw they get summers off

piper:

love her but shes a nepo baby

she doesnt act like it tho

”are you tristan mcleans daughter?” “who?”

loves her dad to bits but does not like being seen out in public by the paparazzi

marries shel, they dont have kids tho, neither of them want to bring any into the world especially with america’s downfall and the government erasing women and poc rights

is basically leos big sister atp

leo:

him and calypso dont last, maybe a year and a half in they split bc calypso wants to explore the world and leo is very emotionally unstable and calypso has a hard time understanding

they end on good terms but dont ever talk unless its with a group of friends

he goes into a trade to become a mechanic and owns his own shop

starts smoking cigarettes/vaping

his friends dont really approve but they understand he cant quit just yet as hes not in a mental space to do so

goes to therapy with a psychologist whos a demigod that specializes in grieving and war trauma

they all go to therapy but hes the last one to do it

he’s still the ‘happy go lucky’ guy hes always been but as he gets closer w the others they start to see the true sadness in him

piper and him grow a lot closer after jason died and have a big sister little brother relationship

hazel:

my girl stays at camp jupiter

takes nicos place at camp

horse trainer

her and frank also dont work out as a romantic relationship, they felt that the age gap was too much after frank turned 18 and hazel was 15 theyre still friends tho

hazel often visits leo in his shop

as much as leo reminds her of sammy, through therapy she has recognized that theyre separate people and to not push all her past feelings for sammy onto leo

not only does she train horses but she also teaches little kids basic math, science, and history to the younger kids

they all call her ms. hazel

she prefers to teach the really young kids (age 4-7)

wears her hair in different braid styles after BOO

frank:

my friggin HOMIE

i relate to frank a lot personality wise

therefore i think hed be a 4/20 fanatic after BOO

hes not stoned during training or during important camp duties

but otherwise you try talkin to him and you dont really notice until you look and see the far off look and red eyes and he just goes “huh?”

other than that hes a great leader

after he gets his cool new look from mars he takes really good care of his body including consistent exercise and eating really healthily (maybe he has a soft spot for fast food when hes hi)

him joining the military does not make sense to me

he lost his mom to war, and he was in one himself, idk about you but i would not wanna join the military after being the main character in a war

he studies to be a veterinarian for exotic animals

when no one is around he shifts into the animal to find out whats wrong

”dr. zhang prefers to work by himself” “why” “idk but hes always right, if it aint broke dont fix it”

jason:

rip home-slice

nico:

my other homie

my guy does not get taller than 5’8

stays at camp during the summer to train the new and old kids

him and will get a house together

teaches history at the camp school

cat dad (5 cats and counting)

will:

takes nicos last name when they marry bc its cooler

him being a doctor doesnt click w me i more picture him being an EMT

EMTs are hotter anyways

does med training with new apollo kids whenever he gets time

if he’s not busy during working hours he drops by nicos classroom w his fav drink from dutch bros (starbucks is MID) and hangs out with him and his students

[envy-of-the-apple]

NO BUT LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN TO ME POLY OMG SDKHFGLSDHG THE FIC,

satoru clinging to you like velcro. obliviously asking you to hang out in places only college kids would go to. like, HIS DORM?? probably a rave or two or a frat event or some crap. he doesn't even register it as weird because it's not weird for HIM so how could it be weird for YOU when he wants you there?

being his designated driver... his secret keeper... "He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before." omggg imagine he told you about suguru. imagine hearing about it, thinking he's gay, and satoru lets you think that for a while so you see his advances in a platonic light and don't turn him down right away

telling you he's so happy he feels like he's dreaming... interrupting you to ask you how it felt, probably knowing full well you were too drunk to remember...

interrupting you even MORE to tell you that it was his first time (you DEFLOWERED him you MONSTER)...

and then pulling out the puppy dog heartbreak eyes (and i'll bet it's REAL heartbreak, too!) when he says you totally returned his feelings when he confessed last night 100% honest no cap.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

narrator: "he did not, in fact, leave her for someone his age"

skjdfhglhdsg honestly satoru has ALWAYS had that "likes older women" vibe to him, you know?

even if you ever managed to break up with him you'd just watch him fall into the arms of a 40 year old mei mei who's just using him for his money, humiliating him publicly, cheating on him, breaking his heart and won't you save him from his self-destructive ways, you know he'll always take you back-

god this is the REAL manipulator shit. make them choose to come to you. yandere gojo has nothing on this cougar hunter gojo, his TRUE final form

kfhgsldhg sorry if it sounds like i'm throwing more prompts at you, this really is just me squealing about what a fun read it was. awesome job! thank you for writing it!

im so glad you liked it!

COUGAR HUNTER GOJO OH NO-

"you totally returned his feelings when he confessed last night 100% honest no cap" yayaya no totally, you def said 'omg toru ily 2 lets get married'. honestly he got a bit too egotistical in the last part, and it might be his downfall if the mc ever looked too deeply into the story.

(I imagine the night went the exact opposite how gojo described. He did confess, but by then, you had lost much of your tact. Instead of letting him down gently, you just started likening him to your little brother-no wait-you're more like my son-actually no-you're more like my puppy that keeps peeing the floor. Cant blame him for thinking he needed to kick it up a notch)

i just love the idea of the mc going to friends for advice and instead of being sympathetic/horrified they give high-fives and joke about robbing the cradle because no one really cares that you're 'dating' someone who's pre-frontal cortex isnt developed because the patriarchy

If i ever do make a pt2 (which i will not be doing), it'll probably be seven years into the future where gojo has successfully corralled you into marrying him. and the reason why you (reluctantly) say yes is akin to the reasons a man in the 1930s will marry a woman he slept with to preserve his and hers dignity.

[marymary-diva17]

You are not a monster

azula and mom reader

When to came to your marriage you had know your duty had been to your nation and the royal family, but soon enough your duty had changed to motherhood. You had added prince zuko to the royal family and soon enough princess azula. The kids had become your everything and one of the many things, in the royal palace that made you happy at the moment.

servent " princess azula" you are waking around the palace when you heard a servants voice, that had gained your attention you soon looked at a group of servants.

servent " princess azula"

y/n " what going on here"

servants " lady y/n" the servants soon bowed to you as they had notice you had come.

y/n " you all may raise up tell me what the matter"

servants " we have lost the princess my lady"

y/n " oh"

servants " we have been looking for her and calling her name for no response"

y/n " don't worry I have a feeing where she might be you can go now, attend to some other duties until later on today"

servants " yes lady y/n" the servants soon left and you soon made you way to where Azula had ran off to. It didn't take you that long to find her on the balcony looking at the capital.

y/n " there you are young lady you have the servants running around, scared of what will happen to you if they didn't find you"

azula " hello mom"

y/n " what the matter my azula"

azula " nothing the matter mom I was bored with those ladies, and decided to find something else to do"

y/n " azula"

azula " do you think I'm a monster"

y/n " azula what makes you think and speak that why of yourself"

azula " I heard some of the servants saying I'm a monster and I'm not like Zuzu"

y/n " azula you are no monster and you don't have to be like your brother"

azula " are you sure because he will be after line for thr throne after uncle, cousin lu ten, and dad .... I will never get a throne or any title of power"

y/n " oh my Azula"

azula " even due the servant dont dare say it out loud to me or near anyone who can report them, it easy to see they say it with thier eyes when I bend or do anything that not all princess like"

y/n " you don't always have to be princess like azula and I'm amazed by the skills you can do, always coming up with new moves and blue fire that rare within fire benders"

azula " real mom"

y/n " yes and I will addressed the issues with the servants it better then I verse your father for everyone sake"

azula " yes mom"

y/n " if you don't get the throne you can still be a women with power, it will be good to the fire nation have a leader that female you can do amazing things"

azula " yes mom I will the best there is"

y/n " good but remember what I have taught you and your brother, don't let the power get to your head that has been the downfall of many people in the past"

Azula " yes mother and I promise I will make you proud in the future"

y/n " I know you will my daughter I know you will" you had brought azula into a warm embraced as she smiled at you.

y/n " now come on let go the to grounds and maybe you can show me some of your moves"

azula " yes mother you will be amazed"

y/n " I'm always amazed my daughter always" you and azula soon left the balcony and went to the palace grounds, you had sat on bench when she started showing you her moves.

[tuliptired]

One-shot for Egon? Egon and the reader that constantly throws him off guard with their flirting?

Shut Up, You're Stupid, Just Kiss Me

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Reader

if you saw me post this to the wrong ask you actually didn't

better formatting on Ao3 😔

Another one of these benefit-things. Egon understood the whole spiel- show up and look nice so the city doesn’t shut them down and a few nonprofits can look generous. But they got repetitive quickly. He didn’t even know why they were invited to this one. But, Ray insisted that it’d be good for them- and possible investors. Everyday sacrifices.

Ray and Winston always handled the networking part of the night, while Peter sat next to him at the bar, absolutely bored out of his mind as he toyed with an empty glass, head in his hand. Egon didn’t drink, but for some reason these bars were the only seats in the entire ballroom. It never made much of a difference, as he always spent the majority of his time observing the guests or the bottles on the wall, or wondering what he’d do when he got home. 

“Egoooooon,” Peter whined for the 10th time that night as his head hit the bartop. “I don’t know what to do.” They’d been through this. 

“Do what you always do. Get drunk. Talk to women.”

Peter’s cheek lay against the wood as he turned to face him, eyelids lower than usual. “But I miss my girlfriend.”

“Halfway there.” Egon righted his forgotten glass as it threatened to roll off the bar.

“You don’t get it, man. I’m committed now.” If that was a solemn vow or a complaint, it was hard to tell. 

A pair of women stood next to them at the bar, giving quick apologies for the close proximity. Peter notices Egon’s shoulders square, and suddenly becomes very interested in tonight.

He perked up quickly, leaning into Egon. “Y’know what would make my night? Seeing you take a chance. Don’t shake your head- you know I’m right.” Egon shut it down silently, shrugging off Peter’s hands. Peter was right, he hadn’t “taken a chance” in what felt like forever. Peter’s voice continued to try and convince him, as it was tuned out into a low vibration of sounds. 

Romance- or love, didn’t scare Egon. He was a grown man, after all, and he figured he understood it well enough. But that was his downfall. Person A is attracted to Person B, and they start dating- it was a simple equation. Peter and Dana defied the equation at times. But they put themselves back into it. Louis and Janine bent the rules of the equation. Could he do that? Could he break the rules, make new ones, to law that evolves every moment? Peter’s voice turned into a ring. This didn’t matter. People didn’t look at him.

He first experienced that realization in high school, the week of a dance. Big ears, big glasses- but Peter had a date. Peter always had a date. Did he want a date? Someone to hold when it was dark? To blush with as they got dressed up together? He was only human. But would he ever get that? All signs pointed to no. So, he stopped worrying about it all together. It was easier to ignore while his nose was in a book. 

Peter was practically draped over his shoulders. “Do you want me to die, Spenges?” 

“Can’t you bother someone else?” He didn’t mean to snap. It was just an unpleasant moment of awareness, it always was. 

Peter was unmoved. “Oh, Egon. Is it ‘cause they’re girls?” He jumped from his stool as Egon decided to remove himself from the bar. “Sit, sit, sitsitsit. I’ll go and find Ray. I think you need a nap, anyway.” Peter disappeared into the crowd before Egon could join him. 

Loneliness. Maybe he really should start drinking. Or, coat tailing after Peter found Ray to get out of here sooner.

He couldn’t stew in his increasing misery for long, as he felt a presence behind him. As he turned around to be freed from tonight, to stick to Ray or Winston’s side like a lost kid, he was met with a different sight.

Oh god.

“Mr. Spengler!” Your cheery face beamed. “It’s been a while. Is anyone sitting here?” Not anymore, you were already lowering your butt into it. 

He remembers you well. He was required to take an Humanities class, something about ethics and morals in STEM students. You were a TA, the professor explained  not necessarily going into that field, but taking the opportunity anyway. Egon considered himself to be well-rounded academically. But you were near tyrannical. In a class of liberal arts, english, and history majors, he stuck out like a sore thumb. You picked on him relentlessly, engaging in back and forth discussion that the rest of the lecture watched on. Even the professor.

Independent analysis- each student assigned a poem and asked to dissect it. “But, Mr. Spengler, surely you’re not insinuating that the speaker didn’t grow throughout her poem?” Your voice was loud, though the hall was smaller than normal and his seat was much closer to the front than he remembers it being yesterday.

You were always on the side of emotion and subtext, him on the side of logic and literalism. “In 6 stanzas, she wrote about flowers. I’m insinuating that her perspective did not grow in those 6 stanzas.”

You turned your back to him, moving to the large chalkboard. “Are you sure you’re not dancing around the fact that your assignment was an allegory for sex?” The class broke, and his face flushed into a bright, knowing red, as you flashed him a bright, knowing smile.

Relentless torture. You’d stop him before he could leave the hall, a timed essay in your hands that you’d returned to everyone but him.

“Interesting topic,” you offered, after an hour of grilling him. As he reached for the paper, you pulled your hand back.

“Your writing is improving. You do exceptionally well when it’s something you enjoy.” You let him take it.

You start for your things by your desk, before calling out into the empty room. “And you’re cute when you actually try!”

So he decided that he hated you. It was the only plausible explanation. He left your debates cherry pink , stumbling over his own words. He could have sworn that he was beyond intelligent. But when he stepped into that room with you he became a bumbling idiot. And hate was a powerful thing. He found himself contemplating what would occur that day as he made his trek across campus. He was sure he’d understood the essay he was assigned to the point of being able to recite it. That would show you. But you shut him down, and up. No matter how calculated and practiced his responses were, you tore down his guard with your comments. How could someone who made him feel so stupid say such…things? He sat alone at night, pondering his ailment. You confused him to an intense degree. Sweaty palms, increased heart rate- this was hate, white and hot. 

The morning before he graduated, preparing to return in the fall for his doctorate, he appeared in the desolate classroom, as you cleaned out filing cabinets. 

You looked up from underneath the desk, the smile he’d seen for a whole semester spreading on your lips. “Your reception outfit is nice, Mr. Spengler.”

God damn it. Why was he here again? The grip on his bag tightened as he scoured through his brain for any recollection. You had a box in your arms, simply passing him.

“Don’t change,” and the door shut behind you.

How he hated you. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” you managed to order a drink while talking directly to him.

“Of course.” Sweaty palms, increased heart rate. 

You sipped your glass. “You finished your doctorate? No more school?”  

He adjusted to spontaneous conversation, albeit slowly. He didn’t face you as he responded. “No more school.” You let out a noise of surprise.

“Doctor Spengler. I like that.” His ears burned. 

“And you’re doing the ghost-thing?” Oversimplification. But he found himself not caring when the words fell from your lips. 

“Full-time.”

“I get your ads 24/7. You look great in a jumpsuit.” His long legs jerked against the underside of the bar, and he heard you stifle a laugh. His stomach soared. Vitriol.

There was a hand on his arm. That commanded his attention. If he wasn’t full of…rage then, he was now. 

You murmured. “I don’t still make you nervous, do I, Dr. Spengler?”  He couldn’t breathe. As he opened his mouth, the only sounds that came out were stammers. You just laughed, squeezing his arm as you rose from the stool.

“I’ve gotta get going. Goodnight, Dr. Spengler.” You were gone before he could blink.

Nights later in the firehouse, in the safety of his lab, he couldn’t focus. How ironic? As he trotted down the steps for fresh air, the phone rang out. Janine was out for her lunch, and the others were still on the road from a last minute job. He sighed.

“Ghostbusters.” 

“Hey, Dr. Spengler. I enjoyed seeing you again and,” He held the phone to his ear with two hands. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner tomorrow night?”

He hated you. He’d show you just how smart he was by hanging up, ending this (one-sided) college feud.

“We’re back,” Ray’s voice startled him as he leaned against the desk’s edge staring at nothing. “Did we get a call?” He looks to the phone, resting on the tabletop rather than its proper place. Egon swallows.

“Just one.”

“Okay?” They wouldn’t accept his answer. He averted his eyes.

He conceded, letting himself lean back against the desk again. “An old TA.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “The one who used to needle you all the time?” Ray had never met you, but he recalled Egon’s bad moods after having left your class. 

“Egon’s got a bully,” Peter directed at Winston as he did something in his own open office, behind Janine’s desk. “What’d they want?”

He took a short breath. “Dinner.”

Peter whistled. “Gutsy,” Winston offered as he sent Peter a look of shared surprise. Ray kept his attention on Egon.

“Good on you for saying no.” Egon was silent.

Peter reappeared. “You said no, right?”

More silence. Egon was a weak, weak man. Peter put him in a headlock, pulling him in tight as Ray’s eyes blew out, wide, and Winston laughed in disbelief. 

“Spenges is a big fat masochist!”

A woman walked in for an in-person consultation, confused at the sudden spectacle.

“Would you be quiet?”

You were (fashionably) late. 5 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact, but he wouldn’t mention it. Not while you were going on about losing your house keys before you were about to leave. As you talked, he couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked in the warm lighting of the restaurant. Jealousy, perhaps?

So he let you talk. And talk. But he didn’t find himself searching for other stimuli like he normally did with characteristically chatty people. You seemed nervous, cringing a bit after every poorly measured story or unintentional confession. He had a bit of an upper hand. He smiled to himself, albeit small.

“What?” You grinned back, probing him. 

“Nothing,” he took a sip from the water he’d been nursing in place of wine. His expression was smug, hidden behind the lip of the glass.

“How’d you stay single, with a face like that?”

He choked on his water, setting the glass down as he coughed into his elbow. You had your head in your hand, leering at him like he was food. “I beg your pardon?”

“When you were post-grad? Guys and girls lined up outside your office to speak to you. And it wasn’t for your brain.”

You were messing with him, like you always were. But he’d bite. “They were eager to learn.”

You drew your hands up, incredulously. “Yeah, eager to learn what you looked like naked.” For the first time in his Jewish upbringing, he felt compelled to utter the name Jesus Christ.

The night went on for a bit longer. Against his better judgment, he started to find you funny. And witty. And incredibly alluring. You strung him along for 10 minutes about a classic of fiction, only to reveal that it was a personal story of your sexuality. And then you did it again, this time making a comment about his rear end. He couldn’t help but be startled every time.

You let him go on a tangent about his studies at one point, watching and listening intently. He felt the feeling rise in him again. This must have been full revulsion, because he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. His cheeks began to grow sore from prolonged, uncontrollable smiling- what he considered to be himself reverting back to primal reactions from how hot his hatred burned. You fell into your old ways, going back and forth about a classic he’d read between then and college. He felt like he did in that lecture hall, temperature increased and body leaned towards yours.

“Assine point of view, Dr. Spengler,” you crossed your arms. The name made him feel like he’d collapse onto the floor every time you said it, however the scene was made in a fancy restaurant. 

Begrudgingly, he spoke up, voice weaker than it had been in hours. “You can call me Egon.” He absentmindedly picked up his glass.

You shook your head, twice. “Dr. Spengler is fine. It's pretty fun to say in bed.”

The glass in his hand shattered in his white knuckled fist. That’s how you both were escorted out the establishment, partially for the glass now strewn into the carpeting as well as his palm, in addition to his failure to react to the staff shaking him around. You guided him outside, the cool air doing him some good as his hand was wrapped haphazardly in white napkins.

“Sorry. About your hand.” You broke the silence, assuming an arbitrary direction as you continued in the path of your apartment. 

He was in his own world. Nay, his own universe. He stopped you as a cool wind blew through the sidewalk, rustling a nearby tree. 

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what I know anymore. I hate you. And you hate me.” 

His face was one of desperation, while yours was one of dismay. He continued.

“When I talk to you- when I see you. I feel the intense-st emotions, most of which I never thought I’d experience. I sweat. Too much. I forget what was on my mind. I look like an absolute moron. And- I never knew what that meant. So it had to be hate. That’s why you treat me the way you do- you laugh and smile and call me an idiot while calling me handsome because you hate me, too.”

He never vomited his soul out like that to anyone. Only a handful of times, really, to his closest friends. You only blinked, before a new expression drew over your features. Your face melted into a smile, to his surprise, as your arms suddenly found their way around his neck. 

“Come inside, Dr. Spengler.”

He woke up the next morning- in your bed as you slept soundly. How he hated you.

[twola]

If you're comfy with it: high honor!Arthur comforting an F!reader's shame and insecurities in regards to being badly scarred in some way? I'm talking large patches with burns, scars, whip marks, what have you; enough to make someone jump if they saw her beneath her clothes. Esp bc she feels weak for already being smaller than most of the camp. Ty if you do this!!

Getting back to writing, it was great to bang this one out (teehee). Working on clearing up my request queue, along with a renewed vigor for writing my longfic, Devil’s Backbone.

Painted Ribbons

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

Arthur’s new lover refuses to bare herself to him, and he’s dying to know why.

Arthur’s gaze lingers, for longer than is socially appropriate, at the swing of your skirts as you carry the overflowing tub of dirty laundry on your hip toward where the other women have set up for the day.

His thoughts drift to the night prior, where his hands dove up those skirts, eliciting soft mewls from your throat like music to his ears. He might have to pull you away from that damned laundry pile to do it again. His blood pulses through his veins like a livewire at the thought of it.

As if you could hear the conversation he was having with himself in his mind, you look up and make eye contact with him, a small, shy smile gracing your face before your eyes bat back down toward the laundry.

You’re a pretty little thing - short in stature, shy, and quiet - except when he has two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. He has no idea how this started - he had been admiring you from afar, enamored by the way your nose scrunches up when you think, or how your pretty little eyes seem to always be looking down, lined with dark lashes that bat innocently when you look up. But whiskey - whiskey was your downfall, as many a poor girl, a night when you had partaken enough to shed your shyness and approach him, threading your arms around his neck as he eagerly pulled you into his lap. The meeting of your lips - well, that was his downfall. He had hummed into your mouth as he pushed his tongue against your lips and the moan that bubbled up from your chest - he knew he was a goner.

Was that only a week ago? 

Was it only two days ago that he took you out into the woods a short distance from camp and kissed you until you were both breathlessly clinging to each other?

Surely, this all must be some strange dream - last night must have been a strange dream, where you snuck into his tent in the middle of the night and crawled into his cot. He must have been unconscious when you allowed him to draw your skirts up and touch your knees, trail his fingers up your thighs, cup your core in his big warm hands, drown out your sigh with a kiss of his own.

Sliding a leg of your bloomers to the side, fingers working through the thatch of hair and brushing against the seam of your body, wet already, ready for him.

The slide of his index finger into your cunt went straight to his cock. God, what it would feel like to press another part of him inside you, to cleave you, to fully make you his. The thought alone was enough to sustain him as he worked his finger inside you, thrusting into your wetness enough to press his middle finger inside as well. Pleasing you, working you, giving to you, until you shudder beneath him, back arching up, your perfect little cunt clenching around his fingers, and it's everything he is not to come in his pants then and there.

Arthur shakes his head slightly from his seat near the small campfire, blinking back into the present. It surely couldn’t have been a dream. Could it?

But no, because you look up again, catching his eyes, and flush slightly, smiling like you can’t help it. 

Definitely not a dream.

-

To his delight, you’ve snuck into his tent again late at night, clad in a shirt over a simple petticoat skirt, barefoot and giggling softly as you climb into his cot, into his waiting arms. 

After several moments of bodies tessellating and the shedding of a skirt into a heap on the ground next to the cot, Arthur grunts and settles you next to him, hand creeping up your stomach over your shirt.

You shake your head, swatting his hand away as he reaches toward the buttons of your blouse.

“C’mon now, little darlin’, let me-”

He is cut off as your other hand sneaks into his open trousers, wrapping your little fingers around his cock, and pumping it heartily. His protest is forgotten quickly as he thrusts his hips forward nigh uncontrollably. He quickly works his pants down his thighs, kicking them off and climbing further up the cot as you scoot backward upon it, bare-legged and your shirttails hanging between them, hiding your cunt from his view. 

But when you lie down completely, smiling up at him while spreading your legs, he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. He drops the request to strip you down and strokes his shaft as he leans over you. 

“Y’wanna do this now?”

You respond by sitting up on your elbows and chasing his mouth, pressing your lips against his as he smiles into the kiss. He presses his hips forward, running the head of his cock up and down your slit, covering it in your wetness.

“Oh - oh,” You moan, and he shushes you quietly as he presses the first inch of him through the tight ring of muscle at your core, gritting his teeth against his own moan as your tight, wet warmth welcomes him in. 

By the time he’s slid completely within the sheath of your cunt, you’re a gasping, quivering mess beneath him, a silent whine erupting from you as he pulls his hips back to begin thrusting. The cot beneath you creaks as he settles into a rhythm, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he fucks you.

Your hands ball up his shirt, fingernails digging into his back as you turn your head into his neck and moan into his skin, your cunt clutching around him and your little frame shuddering as you come. 

God, it's so good.

Arthur groans, jerking himself from your warmth, stroking his length twice before his hot spend splatters on your inner thigh, causing you to mewl aloud for a moment before you have the wherewithal to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound within his tent.

He collapses to the side of you, breathless, the cot creaking more as he lies on the very edge of it.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do that in camp.” You laugh into his ear as he breathes heavily.

Arthur places a hand on his chest as he turns his head toward you, throwing his other arm around your frame and dragging you bodily against him.

“Have any plans for tomorrow night?”

-

He’s spirited you away in the lull of activity right after supper - where Grimshaw and Pearson weren’t going to be missing your labor after you’ve washed dishes, and where Dutch was unlikely to send him out on something without advance notice.

The town just a few miles from camp isn’t much to talk about - but a hotel with clean sheets and blessed walls it did have. He’s paid up at the desk and all but dragged you up the stairs, you yelp in amusement when he pulls you against the door and leans down to capture your lips as he slides the key into the lock, pressing his hips against you for a moment before opening the door. 

You back in, smiling, breathless, and he’s barely latched the door behind him before letting his gunbelt clatter to the hardwood floor, kicking off his boots and shedding his jacket to crumble in heaps on that floor. You giggle lightly as you kick your shoes off as he gets close enough to encircle your waist with his large hands, pulling you into another searing kiss for a long moment before pulling back.

“C’mon, this big ol’ bed ain’t gonna break in itself.”

You smile, moving to untie your skirts, the layers of cotton hitting the floor, and shimmy your bloomers down over your hips, letting them pile with your skirts. You reach toward him, bare from the waist down, and he acquiesces to your grabbing at his clothing, quickly unbuttoning his shirt as he shrugs his suspenders down and pushes his pants to fall to the floor. 

He reaches for your shirt, and you scoot backward, onto the bed, just out of reach.

Arthur frowns, reaching toward you again, and your smile immediately falls, moving further back on the bed. 

As if he were approaching a skittish deer, he sits on the bed next to you and reaches toward your hips, very clearly staying away from your shirt.

“Why won’t you let me look ‘atcha?” Arthur asks, his hands around your hips edging on gentle as compared to lustful.

“Ain’t nothing you wanna see.” You grit out, your hands fisting in your shirttails, unable to make eye contact with him.

“Course I wanna see all of you, you’re the prettiest little thin’ I’ve ever set my eyes on.”

You breathe out heavily as he reaches for the first button. He pauses, not reaching any further. Instead, he leans over and places his lips on your forehead, in an attempt to comfort you.

When he pulls away, you look up at him, let out another shuddering breath, and pull his hands toward your buttons, allowing him to continue. You look at your lap as he unbuttons your shirt, baring your breasts to him, and put up no struggle as he pulls the sleeves of your shirt down your arms, bare to him for the first time.

“Sweetheart, what is it? I ain’t seeing nothin’ that doesn’t make me want you more.” Arthur leans in and cups one of your small breasts in his large hand, thumb grazing your nipple and you shiver in response.

“M’ back.” You whisper, continuing to avoid eye contact with him.

His hand moves up from your breast, up your shoulder, rounding that long curve, and down your back.

You close your eyes and are unable to stop the tears that slide down your cheeks as you feel his fingers pass over the raised ridges of your skin. He pauses, and you can’t hold back the sob that boils up from your throat.

Arthur immediately draws you into his embrace, pulling you to him, settling you in his lap, drawing your head into the curve of his neck.

“M… my daddy,” You sob into his skin, “He was a right asshole… H-he ain’t never forgive me for my momma dyin’ giving birth to m-me.”

He pats the back of your head, his other arm swinging wide across your waist, his bare skin against yours, fully against the stripes of scarring painted across your back.

“Used me as his personal whippin’ p-post. I ran away when I was old enough to.” You clutch at your arms, trying to make himself smaller in his embrace.

“ m’sorry, sweetheart.” Arthur rumbles out, his hand moving down from the back of your head to your upper back, rubbing in circles gently as you shiver in his arms.

“But some scars ain’t gonna change the fact that I think you’re the prettiest girl this side of the Lanaheechee.” He presses his lips against the crown of your head.

“Cause you haven’t seen ‘em yet. Ugly. The last man I was on my back for threw me outta the room after seein’ me.”

“Well, he’s a goddamn fool then.” Arthur snaps back, letting go of you as you pull away, your watery eyes finally making contact with his. You sigh and turn around in the bed.

Arthur frowns. Your back is absolutely covered in scarred-over lashes, pink and raised, from your shoulder blades down the curve of your spine to the dimples above your hips. Your shoulders shudder as you try to stifle a sob.

You feel his breath against your back first, then, his impossibly soft lips kissing down your spine, against the raised and pinkened lash marks that litter your skin. You gasp as he catches you off guard - instead of recoiling, he’s leaning in, instead of pushing you away, he’s pulling you closer.

You shiver, turning immediately toward him and surging against his lips, pulling him downward as you lay back on the mattress.

He slots himself between your hips, pulling back from your lips to look down at you. He brushes a lock of your hair from your forehead. 

“Now I don’t want you hidin’ from me no more. Got it?”

You roll your hips against his, relief and desire palpable between you.

“Got it.”

[keruimi]

His Definition of Love

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x reader

Warning: Angst, Trauma, Comfort

Note: Oh how I badly want to hear from someone, the words he uttered. I'm not really a big fan of him but damn, this oneshot made me start liking him. Hope you all enjoy it!

_____________________________

When I was young, the person I loved the most was my father.

A person I would choose over others. A man who was the reason I grew up in a comfortable and loving family in my childhood days.

A father and a husband that anyone would love to have. I vowed to myself that time that I would love the same man that resembles my dad.

Until across the bridge where he used to take me, I found him embracing another woman than my mom.

It was one of the memories that always reminded me that everyone has their own bad sides.

No matter how kind, nice, and loveable my father was, he still broke my mom's heart leading to the downfall of our family who was once envied by many.

I was so young back then that I disregard my mother's heartbreak and keep siding with my father no matter how she keeps begging me to choose her.

I hate how I used to think back then.

Just because I don't want to lose my father.

"Little one" my father called me as the sobs of my mother is the only thing I heard in the house as I tightly clutch on my father's body.

I keep crying especially when he successfully removes me from his legs before he crouches in front of me.

"Little one, please stay with your mom. I don't want to influence your pure heart, dear"

The tears on my father's eyes made it clear to me that day that he was not pure as I saw him.

That he really did something I thought he would never do.

My father suffered because of the complicated emotions he has. He loved my mother but he also liked other women.

So does that make me want to hate him?

Yes, so badly. But I also knew that he is aware of his mistakes, aware of how those complicated feelings that ruined the family he once built.

I caught up with it.

But for the best, he made me stay with my mom in fear that I would take after his footsteps if I did live with him.

He is the man who wanted the best for me.

I saw my father in such a way that I blamed my mother for leaving him just because of one mistake, forgetting all the good things that my father did for us.

But that was the first time that my father made me open my eyes to the reality of the world.

He was guilty, not innocent. He is the cause of our heartbreak, not the victim.

He explained to me that even a nice man like him can become a man I wouldn't want to love me.

He is unfaithful, one of the unforgivable sins that destroys one's marriage.

He was not always perfect, he also fell into temptations.

In other words, he doesn't want me to turn into someone like him.

So I decided to stay with my mom to become someone she can lean on. But I knew how my presence broke my mother, because I greatly reminded her of my father.

I finally understand our family's situation and my father's character the moment I step into junior high.

I can't stay liking one man.

When I like someone, I would start to like someone who I deemed better than him.

And it was scary. That I would be the reason for someone's heartbreak.

I finally understand how complicated feelings are. And my father never found a solution to that problem.

He really loves my mom. But if he did love her, then why would he like another woman?

Yet I can't bear to hate my own dad. Because I went through the same obstacles.

If ever I ask my mom for advice, I know that she will remember my dad again so I didn't bother anymore.

Seeing my mother's situation, I told myself that I would just stay alone for my entire life.

Before history repeats itself.

I rejected many men because I was hell-bent on being single.

I am fine with admiring different men every time I deemed them as someone great.

And that would be no different on Akaashi Keiji.

A calm and composed setter who always seems to control their Ace's movement.

He knows the country's Top 5 Ace like the back of his hand.

He is a gentleman, a one of a kind man.

And a person who reminded me of my father's good side.

I groaned in frustration as I slid down on the wall I lean on after watching Fukurodani's match. The frustration I felt when I couldn't get my eyes off of him.

Deep down, I want a family where I would run to. But if I selfishly did that, it would turn into ruins as I started showing signs of my non existing loyalty.

Like a curse that the memory engraved to my mind.

That's why my secret admiration for him surprisingly lasted for a year.

Even if we just passed by each other, the giddy feeling on my chest never left as I always find my eyes looking for him.

He is really perfect.

That even if I started liking one man, whether I catch a glimpse of him, that admiration would disappear and my heart would be set to him again.

Like a damn cycle.

But with my feelings this way, I don't want to take a risk.

Until we met on the school's rooftop.

The time he first came up to me just to lend his handkerchief when he noticed how my tears seemed to escape from my eyes.

A man who showed his concern to a complete stranger.

How can I be loyal?

That is always the question that keeps repeating on my head like a broken record.

I want to be happy, to be in a relationship, to give the love I keep to myself.

I wanted to express my emotions, but I am afraid that it will be poisonous.

That's the reason why he found me on the rooftop, crying. Because I can't take it anymore.

Those fear of betrayal that I might let others experience, keep holding me back from freely loving someone.

That love that I want to give to the man standing in front of me.

"I'm here"

He uttered the same words that my father used to tell me whether I keep crying.

"I'm scared" An emotion that showed the worst part of me.

"That I can't keep loving the same man forever"

It was the greatest fear that my father felt. And when he tried to go against it, that nightmare happened and he lost everything.

Including my trust in him.

Now I'm having a hard time with the same challenge.

Whether I need to go against it or just keep avoiding it.

"What do you mean by that?" There was not a hint of judging from his voice. He simply asked me to open up for him.

And I desperately clutch to that chance of letting out everything.

He unknowingly became someone I can open up with, without the fear of judgement and simply understanding one's problem.

"I can't stay liking one man"

"And?" He stated that made me finally look at him as we waited for my next words.

"And it scares me..." I trailed off, hesitating on my words until a small smile lifted from his lips.

"That's normal" I felt like my world stopped when he let out those words.

"Infatuation, puppy love, or having a crush is normal in our age. It's not a permanent attachment that you need to get scared of." He continued as he decided to sit in front of me so it was easier to continue the conversation.

"Like and love are two different concepts but has an oddly similar meaning" he continues as he moves two of his fingers.

"Liking is when you feel happy with them, watching them, admiring them but it was simply a temporary emotion that is a shallow version of the word Love. Liking someone because he has something you love is its definition"

"But if we're talking about love, it's a more powerful emotion like hate. Love is when you stay with the person you like no matter how much the world wants you to separate. Loving someone is when you accept their flaws and shortcomings. When you understand how they act. When you are there on their lowest like you were with them at their highest moments" his smile never left his lips and I felt like my chest lightened up a little.

"Love is not always about happiness, it will always be tested by challenges." He leaned down for our eyes to meet and I felt him softly gaze on my own ones.

"I don't know what you went through to think that way. But life is always about developing one's self. You might look down on yourself right now and get scared, but one day, you will need to face it. Challenges would never stop coming, but you will know who truly loves you when they join you with it" he removed the strands of my hair that was on my face as he tucked it behind my ear.

"You can't be happy without healing yourself"

Those words gave me the strength to finally face my father.

The man who I once look up to. But the one who is also the root of all my fears.

"This is the first time you finally faced me after all these years" he spoke up first before he faced the sunset in front of us.

"Dad" I called out as I saw how he fisted his hands but he kept his eyes in front.

"I don't deserve to be your father" he muttered as I felt my eyes turn glossy.

"What is love for you?" I whispered, ignoring his previous worrds. Because he was still the father who love me and my mother.

"I never found the real definition of that word. I only know that when I really felt the unexplainable happiness with that one person" he replied with a shaky breath.

I know how it was difficult to face me.

One of the people who really love him, and can hate him.

"Did dad love mom?"

We were silent before he finally spoke the words I badly need to hear.

"I love your mom so much. But I didn't manage to protect the relationship we both have" he finally chose to face me as I saw a small smile adorned his lips yet his eyes portrayed a different feeling.

"My insecurities clouded my mind that I didn't manage to think of the consequences. The fear that I keep following me finally catch up to me" he manage to let out.

"My daughter might be asking herself that if I indeed love your mother, why would I seek comfort on another woman, right?" A tear finally slid on his cheeks.

"The fear that your mother would get tired on the way I think, made me seek comfort on another woman. But it was a wrong move of mine, Y/n. I badly regret underestimating your Mom's love for me" he sighed out as he blink his tears away so he won't broke down on me.

"I cheated, and it was a choice, not a mistake"

"I don't want to cause you trauma, but it seems like I already did, didn't I?"

I felt the tears that gather on my eyes finally slid down from cheeks as he wipe his own ones.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I really am" I wiped my own tears as I took a deep breath.

"I hate myself for hurting both of you" he sobbed out.

And without any other words, I wrapped my arms around him, the things that he always done to me.

I badly wanted to heal...

And I knew I need to start with my family.

And if we finally manage, maybe...

I would start to look at myself differently.

Like what he told me.

"Keiji!" I cheered from the bleachers as his team managed to win in the semi-finals.

The happiness I felt was indescribable as the man looked up and gave me a smile before taking a bow as a thank you for cheering for them.

I will start healing, and I knew I wanted him to be with me throughout all the way.

And he didn't mind.

The first person I became friends with before that gratefulness turned into an admiration.

A man, even with a different personality and interest, he chose to become someone in my life.

He started as my friend before he became a man I started to love.

The person who never made me feel fear, a man who first lent a shoulder for me to lean on. The first person who made me look at myself differently than what I used to.

The person who understands my problems better and manages to comfort me with the words I wouldn't question myself for.

A guy who made me feel like I was not the person who I think I was.

The person I knew I would want to spend my life with. The man I would grow with, learn from, and love until my last breath.

Right now, I'm clearly aware of how different my thoughts were when I like someone, rather than the way I think when I start to love someone.

I really did start loving Akaashi Keiji.

And this time I am sure that it was really...

The emotion called Love