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#and this is just about a blog. imagine my thoughts on anything else.
luveline · 1 day
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I'm sorry to send you such a loaded question, but as a young adult, how do you stay motivated and... I don't know, do the things you have to do? Ever since I left high school, I've felt that it's hard to commit to anything, especially the things I have to commit to in order to have a future, because everything seems so monotonous and uninteresting and stressful to me; because I feel like I'm not capable of doing anything, of being competent.
Anyways, I love your blog. Your writings are one of the few things that make me happy on the worst days xx
that’s okay! I’m gonna try and answer you clearly !! cw for suicide mention
So first I want to say that I’m really sorry you feel this way! It’s quite a heart ache to feel uninspired or uninterested, or worse to feel like you’re not capable of doing things everyone else is doing. You deserve to wake up and feel happy and confident in yourself and your abilities! And I want to say I’m sorry in advance if this is not quite the answer you’re asking me for!
so, when I was around 18/19 (and well beyond those years, but this was when I was very done and defeated and, you know, crying myself sick every night if I wasn’t just laying in bed) I was in university, but I didn’t finish the year at campus, and I had to go home. I’m not sure if this is something I should be saying because it’s so personal but I just want to sort of be honest with you cos I don’t want you to think you’re alone in that feeling. But anyways I had to go home, I was really lonely and I just felt like I couldn’t do what everyone else was doing, like there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t cope with the kitchen, I couldn’t use the bathroom there, I didn’t know how to turn the heating on, couldn’t talk to people, couldn’t navigate the bus by myself, and I felt so pathetically stupid, I had such low self esteem for myself that I felt like I should kill myself just because I was so useless —I didn’t WANT to understand these things. I just didn’t want to do anything. And the reason I’m mentioning it is because while I don’t think it’s okay to assume these things of you, I want to emphasise that there can be a common link between feeling like you aren’t capable and a mental health issue! Of course, you can feel quite useless without that though, so not telling you that that’s definitely what you have going on but more wanting to say that if you think it might be useful, you can have a look at mental health issues and perhaps see if you’re relating to them. But beyond that, hopefully on the way to answering your question, is how I managed to feel more capable and how I now find motivation to do things I have to do.
I sort of had to do a reset, or a sabbatical! I’ve always been an upset person unfortunately, and I had a long few months where I didn’t do anything at all. I’m really, really fortunate that my mother let me stay at home while this was happening however reluctant she was, I can’t imagine really what I would’ve done or what could’ve happened to me if she didn’t let me stay there. I always thought about how she could’ve just turned me out and she probably wanted to, because for months I stayed in bed. I didn’t talk to anybody, deleted all my social media, and I stewed in how much I hated myself for not being any good at anything. I felt soooo stupid and so alone, and I probably cried myself to sleep every night wondering about my life and if I’d ever have the motivation to go on. There are still times now where I am intensely upset and unsure about things and what I’m capable of, but the difference between then and now, and the reason for my motivation I think, was that I was able to foster a need for something? I’m really so sorry if this sounds like total total nonsense, but I needed something. I wanted so badly for someone to “save me” from my not being able to do things, I spent a lot of time thinking about that. Like, how I could be saved. And then I strung out the middle man without realising I was doing it! It is very hard to go from having no motivation and no sense of self ability to then being confident, but I do think you can do it! I needed someone to get me a job and I ended up doing it myself, I needed someone to be gentle with me when I was sad so I started speaking to myself with a more kind inner voice and seeing myself as someone who didn’t need to be perfect to be good.
There was lots of bits of advice I tried to take on. Not all of it is kind to myself, some of it is though!! Like, for example, there’s a sort of parody of it now that says “I think you’re thinking about yourself too much” but one of the ways I stopped hating myself and instead started to believe I could do things and achieve was by thinking about the level of self obsession I was feeling to constantly think of myself. And I promise I’m not trying to say something hurtful to you, I absolutely don’t believe you’re self obsessed, but you’re also not incapable!! In a slightly more annoying take on your feelings, why can’t you do it if everyone else can? You absolutely can! I personally believe sweetheart that you can do everything I can, but you need more support, or you need to be fostered with some love. You are not incapable, you are not incompetent, you are a smart, kind, and important person. There is nobody else like you on the entire planet and I’m better for it that you’re here.
I apologise profusely if I’m projecting too much on you, I’m not trying to say you must feel exactly as I did years ago, but I think your ask really is important and I really want to give you an answer to your question because I know I felt exactly the same at some point. Working toward a future self I didn’t even like or believe in was boring. Nothing in me wanted to work hard or study or continue because I didn’t look forward to achievement.
sorry this is all so long! Hopefully this last bit is the actual advice you might be able to use. Beyond that wisdom about trying not to dedicate too much time to thinking of myself, there are lots of “rules” I tend to live by, in order to just keep going forward. For starters, you deserve to have fun. You deserve good food, nice clothes (not showy though you deserve those too, but nice sturdy clothing), a warm safe house, and you need to work for it! We defo deserve to work less for things but I keep going and trying to better myself because I know I need to do this in order to be comfortable. This will sound out of left field, because the focus of the book is not strictly motivation, but there’s a graphic novel called my lesbian experience with loneliness by Nagata Kabi that has stuck with me because she has this same sort of view as to feeling like she’s stuck in monotony, and there’s one bit in particular where she talks about doing things for yourself you might not do, I.e making sure you have underwear and socks that are clean and whole. I grew up poor and I’m not super rich now either, but since I read that, one of my priorities is having whole and clean underwear, and that did help me find the motivation to work or to study. We need to function in a way to maintain good standards for ourselves, and even if you have boxes of clean socks, there might be something in your life you can think about working toward! I throw away underwear or any clothes that don’t fit me right, and I don’t feel guilty about it when I would’ve before because I know that feeling well dressed is good for your heart. Does that make sense? To give yourself a good standard of life, you have to keep going. As well as that, another way I stay motivated to go on which I’ve talked about before maybe (not that I expect you to have read this) is my writing. I’m motivated sometimes to do things I have to if only because I need free time to think deeply about the things I want to think about. Also I love writing more than pretty much anything, even if most writers will look at what I’m doing and laugh or wonder why I’d dedicate so much time to some things in particular, because I love it. If I can make sure my rent is paid every month, that’s a promise I have a room to sit in every night where I can write whatever story I want! Another motivation is my ability to give bits of myself? It sounds ridiculous because I don’t genuinely believe I’m giving myself to people but to try and be a positive part of someone life is a good place to start if you feel purposeless. My relationships with my sisters are a tether for me and I’ve tried so hard and so much to make these relationships count, as well as with long distance friends, and recently ish I got back into contact with friends I couldn’t maintain relationships with when I was feeling down, and now my life feels very changed. I don’t live solely for myself, (though it’s okay if you do, because its hard and sometimes a lot of pressure to live for and around others) so that gives my life more purpose, and gives me more reason to do things I have to do. I also desperately enjoy this blog !!
I’m genuinely so sorry if this is all useless. I’ve been typing this answer since like 1:05 and it’s much later now, but it’s because it’s hard to describe to you the things that give motivation, because I know deep down how impossible it feels when you have none. I don’t expect you to read this and think aw jade you’ve solved it I’m fine now actually, I just hope that one thing in here can lend you an idea as to what to do next. If you’re struggling to go on, there are lots of options available to you in the UK such as the SHOUT text line for stress, depression, and eating disorders. They’re free to text and anonymous! I don’t think there’s one answer to giving yourself purpose, it is a very hard life and I don’t blame you for feeling incapable or bored or worried or anything you’re feeling, but I do for sure know you can do this, because I can do it, if that makes sense. Like I bet we’re extremely different people on account of uniqueness but also bet we have so many similarities!! And I certainly don’t mind guessing that you’re a loving, caring, person who deserves to feel more fulfilled. It’s my recommendation that you try to understand why you’re not feeling your best right now, that you talk to someone if you can, that you have some faith in yourself, and that you treat yourself with the same love and patience as you would any other person experiencing burnout! again I’m so so sorry if this is all rubbish. I’m forcing myself to stop now. So sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if half of this is completely unrelated to what you’re asking. I love you and I hope you feel better, genuinely truly ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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patchworkprince · 9 months
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I need to revamp this blog
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dailypokemoncrochet · 7 months
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Can you even fucking imagine if I had done what I originally planned and not shared ANY of my crochets online until I finished them ALL?
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louebel · 8 months
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— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.
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— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699
"sanji... honey..."
a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.
and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)
"hmm? yes, love?"
his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.
sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...
"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"
now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?
he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.
"sweetness?"
"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."
it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.
"you do, love?"
"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.
"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."
"hmm? and why not?"
"... m—might faint."
fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.
"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."
"i won't faint."
you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.
"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."
"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"
you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...
"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.
"hmmm? is that so, honey?"
"y—yes — ohh... love..."
you were gliding dangerously lower...
"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.
"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."
"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"
"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."
"mhm... good boy. relax..."
and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.
you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.
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— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388
"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."
sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.
he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.
"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.
you looked completely smitten.
"yep. very."
"hmm..."
smooch. smooch. smooch.
"oi..."
and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.
"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.
"shut up. mm..."
smooch.
"love you, zoro. so much."
you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.
so lovely.
" 'that so..?"
"yeah."
your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...
"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."
he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.
and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.
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— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338
perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...
"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"
but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.
you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.
"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)
"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.
"something other than that."
"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."
the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.
"... you're impossible."
"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."
you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.
"you..."
"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."
but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.
"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.
"c'mon, say it." there was no way.
"... i love you too."
"there you go. good boy."
he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.
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— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426
buggy was not happy.
he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.
"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"
"did i tell you?"
"—tell me what?"
you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.
most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.
"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.
"my nose looks redder than usual??"
your chuckle the last sound he heard,
"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.
you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.
"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.
"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...
"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."
his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.
oh...
"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."
he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.
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ivysangel · 2 months
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surprise post bc my blogs fixed woo hoo!! i initially sent this as an ask to @hanasnx as my contribution to his baby daddy!jason au, but i also wanted to share it here for u guys as a little treat :p
Baby Daddy!Jason, who you co-parent with, in a very civilized way. No joke, the picture of camaraderie between exes. He takes your daughter on the days he's supposed to (which isn't that often, given his occupation) and brings her back on time, always with a little gift for you as well. Flowers, chocolates, a little knick-knack reminiscent of when you were together. It's not because he's in love with you or anything; it's just the principle of the matter. "Happy wife, happy life," not that you were married or even dating, but he figures the mother of his child should get love sometimes.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who, the next time he sees you, it's to drop off something your daughter forgot with him, and as he's handing you the bag, he casually asks why you haven't been asking him to take her more often. You had been for a while when you were going on dates weekly, but for some reason, the relationships never went anywhere, so you just gave up. "Oh, you know, it just wasn't working out." you say off-handedly, "Kept getting ghosted." you sound only marginally disappointed, moreso annoyed. "What a shame, they're really missing out," he says, getting real close to you and taking up your entire field of vision.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who's got your entire calendar memorized and knows that his daughter's not home tonight and that you've got no plans other than watching movies in solitude. He knows you're too stubborn to call him over for company even though you've been giving him fuck me eyes in passing for the past few months, so he figures he just has to take matters into his own hands and corner you until you give in like he knows you want to.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who fucks you on damn near every surface in the house, telling you he's just christening the place like he would've already done if you lived together. Whispers apologies in your ears about scaring off all of your dates while he's splitting you open, bullying his cock into you while your eyes roll to the back of your head because you haven't been fucked this good in years, not since the last time you'd been with him. You're face is deep in some pillows when you realize the memories you had of his dick pale in comparison to the real thing, and you aren't sure you could go back to using your imagination to get off after tonight.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who keeps you up all night until your pussy's red and puffy from how many times it'd come in contact with his hips while he was fucking you. Fat tip kissing your cervix until you were clawing at his biceps, begging him to give you some reprieve, tears in your eyes while you babbled incoherently, too lost in the feeling of him to make any sense. He admits in the midst of sex that he tried to get over you; he really did, but he just couldn't; he just couldn't picture you with another man in any capacity. The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you, loving you, made his stomach turn, filling him with rage and an overwhelming need to claim you as his.
Baby Daddy!Jason, who's a level-headed, non-fragile ego'd man until it comes to his family, which, contrary to what some would say, did not only consist of his daughter but you too, and any guy who tried to get with you was a threat. he didn't know the intentions of other men, but he knew his own, which was to keep his little family happy as long as he was alive. If that meant putting a gun to the head of anyone who made a move on you and consoling you by stretching you out the way he knew you liked until you just said "fuck it" and let him put another baby in you, then so be it.
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charmedreincarnation · 11 months
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Hi Maya I was one of your first anons back in March and I manifested my dream life. i just wanted to share some things that helped me, and hope we can all pass some knowledge so we all get our desires life. I did, you did, and everyone reading this can and will so let’s all try to help out by sharing a little of our journey. I’ll never create a blog because tumblr is a mess, so I’ll just share them here bc I trust you as a creator and I hope you agree with what I’m saying. Even if you don’t these are my assumptions and my truth
il get into my methods in one second but users of tumblr there are only 4 THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE LAW (Inspired heavily by you bc I used your blog religiously) I will say you’re kind of too nice and I wish I had someone to yell at me like this, and tell me to stop being a victim!!! So if it sounds aggressive it’s because it is in the best loving way possible.OKAY SO.
★you need to understand that you want to fulfill yourself in imagination because you don’t care about the desires only how you feel about it. Bare with me it sounds stupid I know. But I don’t care about men or how they feel about me. I just want to feel worshiped and love, and I could fulfill that in my imagination. I don’t care about money??? It’s fucking paper !!! I just want to feel secure and financially free and want the feeling of buying my favorite clothes without looking at the tag. I GOT THE SAME FEELING FROM PINTREST EVEN WHEN I WAS POOR GODDAMNIT. I didn’t care about getting all As in school when I’ve always believed school is not a representation of intelligence. I wanted to feel recognized adored and respected which I had to feel for myself in my mind before it projected. I don’t care about looking skinny, I just wanted to feel snatched, I wanted to be envied, and feel pretty. And in my mind everyone wanted to be me even when I was ugly and fat. BUT I DIDNT FEEL FAT. Even with no change in the 3D I had my desires. This applies to all your desires, and you really need to understand that.
★you can affirm,visualize, understand states, understand non dualism, use the Bible or Torah m, wall twerk and say “I AM THAT BITXH,” use sats YADADAA . No one cares it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to feel anything or, even believe in wth you’re doing. As long as you think that having it in imagination means it’s yours that’s all that matter. I’ve read so many teachers, Neville, Abraham, Abdullah, Edward art, paid coaches, and they all do different things but say the same thing. FAITH IS KEY. That’s all that matters. Don’t let anyone you otherwise or tell you what you have to do. All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.
★YOU ARE GOD. You know what a god is, you know how a god works, you know god can do anything with a snap of a finger, kill anyone with a thought, look anyway it wants, have anything everything and create whatever. You are an omnipotent loving creator so create and give yourself everything.
★you can’t over consume, you can think from lack of whatever, and doubt can’t hinder you unless you think it does. Having a desire does not mean you’re lacking or else having the wanting for it would mean that too no? When creators say that I want to slam my head against the wall. Even now I have all my desires and I still think about them constantly. Thinking of new clothes to buy with MY WEALTH, I think of new food to eat that won’t even affect my SNATCHED BODY, i find new places to try and explore bc MY SOCIAL CIRCLE IS HUGE AND IM SO LOVED, I think of new makeup up to try to enhance my GORGEOUS PRINCESS FACE. I think of it in the same way from when I didn’t have my desired (I always had them in imagination but you know what I mean.) so there is no thinking from lack, or else you’re always lacking it lmfao the fuck. Anyways I doubted my abilities up until I manifested my dream life. I was okay with it in imagination and whether it reflected or not it was my escape I was content with. DID YOU SEE THAT. I had doubts up until the very end, and it doesn’t mean shit unless you think it does. Just affirm having doubts and obsessions only speed up your results. That’s really all it is.
Now to my story if anyone cares. I won’t make a blog for reason number 2 and 3 listed above. That’s all you need but if you want more info for curiosity go for it. I know I was curious and that didn’t stop me from getting my dream life. Anyways I have the same story as about everyone else here. My life sucked, I found the law, and it worked! HOORAY!!! But how did I do it???? Easy peasy, in a couple of steps.
☞ I tattooed my four rules above in my mind. When fear and doubt emerged I sunk that shit like the titanic and went with my laws that I created. It’s literally called the law of assumption like come on, stop fighting with yourself when you assume and create reality.
☞I ignored anything that I didn’t agree with. Sometimes I’d get so mad and be like WHAT NO WHY WOULD THAT BLOGGER OR COACH OR ANON or whoever say that?? But am I dumb ??? each of us have our own reality our own bubbles. The fact that it works for them and not for me started to only motivate me more. It doesn’t work bc I assume sooo… sooo why not just assume the opposite and focus on my rules like they did. The law is always in effect and working. Either it’s in your favor or it’s not. It’s up to you
☞I used affirmations bc repetition is the only thing that works for my logical brain. Anything can change with repetition. It’s basic science. So in the morning and night time I would affirm. ONCE. Repetition meant for me doing it everyday and not wanting. The rest of my day was lived in my imaginations. And the affirmation was to remind me in my vulnerable state that I already have my desires. That’s why my affirmation was “I have my desires no matter what, and everything I do brings them to me faster than the speed of light” it was kind of funny and made me chuckle but I accepted it as facts. Look guys…
☞I didn’t repress myself. If I cried or yelled or told myself “FUCK YOU” it wasn’t me tf. It was the devil or something. Be like those Christian fuckers who when their child comes out as gay…it’s the devil within them or whatever. I would talk to myself, yell when doubt emerged and when my thoughts weren’t the ones I wanted. It wasn’t fucking me so get the fuck out I have my desires so who tf are you ??? It will feel weird but you’ll get used to it trust me. If you’re uncomfortable it’s working. Getting rid of bad habits and your comfort in dwelling in bad thoughts is uncomfortable but it’s worth it.
I manifested my dream life back in March. I LITERALLY WOKE WITH MY DREAM LIFE. A complete 180. I won’t talk about my past life bc I completely revised it and I’m the only one who remembers so for the most part it feels like a long nightmare that has past. I’ll just talk about what I changed instead because that’s the stuff we all want to hear. Anyways I’ll just post some of my list here.
♥ my life feels like the song rich kids by freak ocean
♥I’m a pretty spoiled princess who gets everything I want but I’m still kind
♥I revised my entire family from looks to personality to zodiac to religion and etc. i rewrote my story which included my family
♥I have natural admired intelligent
♥my family has a net worth of 500 million dollars, and my entire family stems from old money. (Think aristocrats not slave or colonization money)
♥I can play many instruments and speak many languages
♥ I am 5’2, 100 pounds, I have natural stunning vixen beauty, and the most desires body in the world. I’m the beauty standard and people either want to be me or date me. I am naturally skinny and have no worries about my weight, I have clear skin that only gets clearer with my skincare routine, and I have my desired personality where I’m kind but also don’t put up with any shit from anyone because I know I’m that bitch. I also have great style and embody a princess !
♥my life is a combination of my favorite watpadd stories, Gilmore girls, gossip girl, and mean girls.
♥ too many people pursue me I have too many options
♥I have a perfect school life, social life, family life, friend life, and people always wonder what I did to be “so lucky it’s unfair”
♥my family has multiple mansions in America, monoco,Australia, france, and China.
♥I’m a daddies and mommies money girl
♥I put myself first (I HAD SUFFERED TOO LONG I NEEDED A SOFT LIFE)
♥everyone’s purpose it to make my life easier and make me happier
♥I’m spoiled and privileged in every aspect of my life
♥I’m a master shifter, and manifester
♥I revised my age to 14. I was 18 and graduating but I wanted to redo high school how I had envisioned it all my life
♥I have a “cool mom” people are always jealous how lucky I am
♥I have my main estate in Hollywood hills with my family that’s in a gated, gorgeous, gate kept neighborhood. It is 30,000 sq feet with my dreams decor, dream cars, dream pets, dream house help, dream room with all my stuff saved on Pinterest including decor, furniture, clothes, shoes, makeup and skincare.
♥everything good in my life I have manifested and it’s too much to list. THERES NOT REASON FEAR OR WAIT. Do what you want and assume it still works and it will.
You honestly said it better than I could have. Literally every single one of these points are so valid :)!! I’m glad you think I inspired you love but all I did was allow you recognize your own godly abilities. I’m very proud of you, and have fun girl 🥹❤️
Also. “All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.” This one million times !!!!! Invest your faith into yourself more than anyone else and you’ll see how fast your reality conforms. I also adore your point about the state of lacking bc I never believed in that. If wanting your desires insinuates it’s not yours, we would have no thoughts since that’s where it all originates from. In fact Edward explains it pretty well.
When Edward looks at lack, he sees it as being something that is only brought about by the individual. He believes that your own actions, thoughts, and attitudes will bring about an artificial scarcity of resources. Edward says that this artificial lack of resources is not actually real—it exists only in our minds, as we focus on the things that we don’t have rather than the things that are available to us.
He believes that true lack only exists when someone has no access to resources—whether those resources be financial, physical, mental, or emotional. When someone has access to resources but they squander them or don’t use them to their advantage, it isn’t a lack of resources that is at fault—it is the individual’s personal choices and attitudes that create the feeling of lack. Same way we see attractive people feel ugly though they have women or men chasing them, modeling opportunities, and experience many examples of pretty privilege lol. You’re a hot girl.. you’re just not using it to your advantage, same way you have everything in imagination and access to anything yet… nothing bc of your own perceptions. That’s not lack. Simply inappropriate usage of recourse. A waste for better use of words.
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depravitycentral · 4 months
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Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile
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Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader
Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 13K
HABITS:
Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.
That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?
Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.
However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.
But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.
And really, is that so unnatural?
Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?
He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.  
He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?
How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?
What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.
Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.
Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.
Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.
(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)
Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.
Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.
However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.
He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.
And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.
Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.
Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.
The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.
Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.
Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.
His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.
At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.
He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.
Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.
Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.
That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.
They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.
She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.
He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.
Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.
The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.
The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.
Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.
Tell me what feels best, woman.
He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.
When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.
His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.
Fuck her, now, ngh…
The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.
Start over her.
He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-
The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.
From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.
The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.
This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.
Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.
You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!
Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.
The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.
I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-
He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.
Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.
And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.
You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.
He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.
You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.
It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS:
Your stomach
In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.
That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.
He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.
They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.
And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –
His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.
He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.
As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.
He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.
And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.
His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.
It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.
You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.
Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty. 
His fingers 
Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.
He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?
It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.
He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.
He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.
And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.
His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.
It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.
The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.
He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.
He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!
He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.
And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.
He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.
After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?
DRIVE:
Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.
And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.
Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.
He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.
He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.
As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.
He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.
It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.
However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.
He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.
You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.
You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…
He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.
And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?
But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?
Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.
And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.
He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.
He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.
His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.
He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.
He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.
Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.
It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.
You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.
(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)
This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?
The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.
He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.
When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?
And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.
You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.
He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.
(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)
MAIN THREE KINKS:
Praise
While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.
Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?
Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?
He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.
He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.
Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.
Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.
And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –
Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?
Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!
Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.
He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.
He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?
He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.
And if you were to worship any part of his body?
He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.
He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.
He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…
He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.
He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you. 
Breast Fixation
Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.
Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.
And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.
He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.
Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.
He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…
He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.
He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.
He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.
He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.
When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.
When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.
And once you start fucking?
Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.
Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.
Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.
Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.
Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.
The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?
And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.
The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.
Hand Holding
It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?
He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.
When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.
Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.
Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.
But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.
Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.
The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.
There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.
(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)
But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.
He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.
Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.
Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.
They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.
And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:
Cock Worship
Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.
To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.
And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?
Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.
It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.
Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.
When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.
Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.
Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.
And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.
 Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a  please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!
He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.
Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.  
You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.
Spitting
This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.
It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?
You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.
And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.
Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.
He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.
He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.
It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.
It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.
And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.
He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?
BIGGEST FANTASY:
As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.
There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.
 And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?
He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.
And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…
He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.
He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –
He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.
He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.
He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.
Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need? 
You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies. 
Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more. 
Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”
You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…” 
Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”
You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could. 
Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”
Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force. 
“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic. 
Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”
You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”
Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”
“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice. 
“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”
“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart. 
Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”
You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie. 
A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds. 
He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth. 
You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip. 
He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area. 
“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled. 
With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin. 
Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing. 
“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped. 
A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response. 
You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood. 
Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you. 
Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly. 
Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”
You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations. 
“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much. 
But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.
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toji-girl · 1 month
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i stalked your blog to no end today T-T the way you write soft Toji is exactly how i imagine him. If you're taking reqs, may i request an nsfw hc on shy reader x bf toji's first time? cud be any length (ty for the cute fics <3)
wait - did you mean it was readers first time with Toji? kjdfbket if so I am sorry zdknbj also R.I.P to readers pussy for having him for the first time though also this is so rushed and not the best but I love him! thank you so much 🥺🥺 I love soft! Toji so much well I love every single side of that man lmaoo and ofc!!! no, thank you for the sweet compliment ♡
tags:18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + explicit smut + first time having sex with each other + soft and sweet! Toji who has a third leg + I did this drabble style because it's my fave :3
Being with Toji Fushiguro meant a lot of things, but one thing you knew for certain was a lot of people would stare at the man who stood over six feet tall and was nothing but pure muscle, paired with that scar and smirk your boyfriend was sex on legs, you knew it, he knew it and so did everyone else.
You were always sure to lavish him with compliments and praise although he'd tch and mumble a damn woman under his breath he'd never pull away and let you pepper his face in sweet honey kisses while gushing about how handsome and funny he is.
However, on the outside, you came across as shy, always offering someone else to take the lead, letting Toji talk in most situations, and letting someone greet you before you even said anything to them.
But Toji knew the truth.
When it was just the two of you behind closed doors you were a needy little thing, always stammering and trying hard to hide your flustered look when you asked him if you could give him a blowjob.
But little did he know you were scared of having sex with him, with the length and girth he would be considered to have a monster cock, and in all the videos you've seen the women did not look comfortable taking one that big, and sure you've had sex before but not with a man like Toji.
However, you loved feeling him throb under your touch when you wrapped your fingers around the shaft giving it small squeezes as you leaned in to kiss him unable to help yourself when it came to him.
It was the idea of actually letting him fuck you that made your face burn, and it doesn't matter how many times he's been knuckle deep inside you or his tongue you stopped him each time you thought you were ready, you were afraid of disappointing him.
You have some experience but nearly not enough like Toji does which you felt each time he brought you to the edge of ecstasy making you cum over and over for him while you struggled to suck his dick.
But to him, it didn't matter, he went at your pace, making you feel good was his number one priority and Toji knew you'd always sink to your knees to give back for what he's done like a good girl.
Now that it's been a week since you two haven't been able to see each other you were all over him as soon as he walked inside your apartment ready to sink onto the couch when you all but tackled him.
That's how you ended up in bed naked and spread legs wide open with the fat mushroomed tip of his cock playing with your pussylips before he let the weight of himself slap your pussy with a smirk.
"Ya sure?" Toji asked as his eyes shifted down to where he was so close to pushing inside you and he knew he'd have to work you up before this, and time spent on you is never time wasted for him.
With a nod, you held his hands as he pushed inside splitting you in half what felt like as your back arched off the mattress mewing his name as tears pricked your eyes letting him ease in and out until he finally bottomed out making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Toji kept a slow pace as you sought his mouth in a passionate kiss stroking your tongue along with his with each roll of his hips making love to you as his hands slid down your legs to hook them around his waist carefully as he pinned you to the bed with his body weight.
He kisses away the tears that spill down your cheeks. "Shh, I'm right here, let me make you feel good." His voice was soft as he cooed in your ear feeling you clench around him so deliciously.
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h4ndwr1tten · 10 months
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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?
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characters — nanami kento x reader
note — this took me a long ass time to write. if it seems familiar to any other works, i requested something with the same plot on someone else's blog lololol. THIS IS PART 1 AS IT'S A LITTLE LENGTHY!!! dividers by benkeibear.
(am i posting this on nanami's birthday? yes.)
cw — not proof read, established relationship, kinda ooc nanami? like one mention of sex, pregnancy, strong language, arguing, crying, accusations of cheating, hurt/no comfort.
synopsis — the test results are positive and you aren't ready. when you try to hide this from your boyfriend of 5 years, he assumes the worst.
part 1 | part 2
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this wasn't supposed to happen. it shouldn't have happened. you both took every precaution possible to prevent an outcome neither of you were prepared for — from condoms, to birth control, to plan b. it had kept you safe for as long as you started having sex. you never found yourself worried about carrying a life in you for 9 months.
so why now does the test read positive?
it felt like the world stopped moving. you didn't even know if you were still breathing. your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide and full of disbelief. you couldn't believe it. it couldn't have been correct. the 99% accurate claim on the kit had to be lying. there was no way it could've been true.
it took some time, but you were able to tear your gaze away from the test. you looked up to the ceiling, blinking away the hot tears you could feel building up. you took a few deep breaths and tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, your fingers trembling around the test.
you've thought about having kids before. you did want them, just not now. you were unprepared for this. how do you raise a kid when you aren't ready, when you aren't even married?
then it hit you — nanami's involved in this too.
the realization made you feel 10x worse. if you weren't ready for a child, you could only imagine how he would feel about this. his life was going so well right now. he was happy with his career and his salary, he was content with the apartment you both shared, and he was even more happy to be with you. he had his whole life and future planned out. he knew when he would retire and even what he'll do in life after he retires. nanami saw you in his future, you were always there when he would think of it. but would you still be there if he found out you were currently pregnant with his child?
you two had never fully talked about having kids together. you both were confident that you would spend the rest of your lives together. you've discussed marriage, homes, and briefly, kids. it was never a deep conversation — you only ever talked about having them and how many there would be. but never about having them earlier than expected.
gosh, you felt like shit. utter, absolute shit. you felt even worse for nanami. you felt like you were going to ruin his life plans. you felt like this would be the downfall of your relationship. and if it was, who knew if you would ever recover.
your phone buzzed with a notification, pulling you back to reality. you didn't realize tears had fallen until one slipped from your chin and landed on the hand gripping the test. you stood from where you sat on the closed toilet and checked your phone. it was a text from nanami.
i'll be home soon, my love. do you want me to bring anything home?
he was so caring. always considering you, always putting you first. you couldn't help but feel even more guilty.
hi ken. could you get some takeout pls? i'm sorry, i'm not in the mood to be cooking rn.
of course. want anything specific? are you feeling alright?
i'm fine. you can choose tonight :)
alright then. i'll be home soon, i love you ❤️
i love you too 💕
you shut your phone off and placed it back on the counter, screen facing down. you felt horrible — he was always thinking of your needs before his. would this end now that your carrying his child? certainly he wouldn't want to have to worry about another person in his life at the moment. you wouldn't want him to worry.
you stood from the toilet seat, about to leave the restroom when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your face was bright pink and red, your eyes also red but not super puffy and swollen. some people might think it was allergies, but not nanami. nanami wasn't some people — he knew you better than anyone, perhaps even yourself. he could see right through you, read you like a book. you began to worry what he would say if the pigment in your face didn't fade in time, if he would ask if you had been crying.
what would you say if he did ask? he knows you so well, it's nearly impossible to lie to the man. you could say you were rewatching your favorite show and got emotional, or reading another chapter or more of the book he bought you the other day. but nanami isn't dumb. he would catch on before you could even finish your excuse, he'd know something's up.
you sighed, inhaling and exhaling deeply. you didn't know how this was going to play out. you didn't know how to act or what to say to nanami when he came home. you were just hoping for the best.
the lock on the door clicked once, twice, and then the door opened. you had been in your shared bedroom, watching some corny rom-com to ease your mind. you had hidden any evidence of the pregnancy test. you threw away the box and instructions, then threw out the trash bag you tossed them in. you kept the test, however, and hid it in your purse that was now laying on your bed. nanami wasn't one to snoop. if he wanted to check something of yours, he would ask permission. and if you didn't grant it, he would respect your boundaries like he always does.
"my love?" you heard nanami's voice echo throughout the apartment. normally, you would've been waiting by the door for him and greeted him excitedly, but for obvious reasons, you weren't.
leaving the bedroom and walking to nanami, who was walking in the hallway and you assumed he was looking for you, you gave him a small smile.
"hi ken," you said quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist instead of his neck where you usually do. you stood up on your toes to reach his lips, kissing them gently and not for long. when you pulled back, nanami leaned down for another, a longer one. were you ever going to get these kisses again if he found out you were carrying his child?
for real this time, you both pulled away. you still smiled softly up at nanami, but he was observing you closely, worry swimming in his honey brown eyes.
three things were running through his mind right now: why were your cheeks and eyes tinted a bright red, as if you had been crying? why didn't you seem as eager to see him after work like usual, wrap your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and kiss him for more than a second? something was wrong. did he do something? did you know what food he bought and were you not pleased by it? were you feeling sick?
"ken?" you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "are you alright?"
"are you alright?" he returned, worry still plastered throughout his face.
you then looked confused, though you weren't, slowly nodding your head, "yeah... why?"
nanami stayed quiet for a second. maybe you were just tired, maybe he was overthinking this. but that idea didn't sit right with him. it was like his gut was telling him that something was up with you. but he didn't know what.
not wanting to push you, he answered, "nothing. i missed you though. let's go eat?"
throughout dinner, nanami noticed how quiet you were. if it were any other day, you would have been telling him about your day, the latest gossip, about the episode you watched or the chapter you read. you were barely even touching your food too. you occasionally took small bites, but most of the time, you were just poking it with your fork.
while he was putting the dishes away, you grabbed yourself a glass of water. that's when nanami asked you, "love, are you sure you're alright?"
"yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask that?" you replied unsurely, looking down at your water.
"i'm sorry. you just seem... off." nanami washed his hands, looking you up and down carefully.
that was another strange thing he noticed. you hadn't looked in his eyes when you told him you were fine. you always make eye contact with him. you're never afraid to and you're not one to break it so quickly, much less avoid it.
he was beginning to question whether you were really fine.
you had just finished getting ready for bed, teeth and hair brushed, skin care routine done. nanami had finished getting ready before you, so he was waiting for you by the bed. but instead of reading a book or even scrolling through his phone, his eyes were glued to you in worry. you could tell he was becoming suspicious of you, and you wished you hadn't made your troubles so obvious. your head was beginning to ache and you were desperately hoping that nanami wouldn't ask any questions.
those hopes were left unsatisfied.
"my love, are you sure you're okay?" nanami asked for what felt like the hundredth time today.
you sighed deeply. "yes, kento, i'm fine," emphasizing the fine. "my head just hurts right now. have you seen the tylenol?" you added, hoping that it would be enough to stop his questioning.
"no, do you want me to check your bag?"
you felt stupid for having kept an small extra bottle of tylenol in your bag. nanami reached over to your side of the bed, grabbing your purse. he had pulled the zipper open when you realized what was about to happen.
"no!" you yelped, practically sprinting to the bed and snatching the bag away from him. you checked to see if the bag had been open enough to see the test, which it hadn't, and some relief washed over you. but then you realized how much worse you had made your current situation with nanami.
fuck. i fucked up. i'm fucked.
nanami's brows were furrowed together, his face painted with a mix of frustration, confusion, and concern. he looked you up and down over and over again, gaze switching from you to your bag repeatedly.
"okay, y/n, seriously. what the hell is going on with you? first, i come home and you don't seem as excited as you tend to be. then your face is all red like you had been crying. then you—you barely talk to me, hell, even look at me throughout dinner! you touched your food like, what, 5 times? and then when i try to look through your bag to help you, you panic and snatch it away from me?"
kento's ramble had you silent. you didn't know how what to say, what stupid excuse you could use, how to explain your behavior. you only avoided his gaze and stared down at your bag. the thick, suffocating silence lasted for a moment longer, then nanami finally spoke again.
"y/n, are you..."
he paused and took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say.
"are you cheating on me, y/n...?"
you were dumbfounded. in absolute, utter shock. how could nanami, the person who you believed to have the most trust in you, think that you would be unfaithful to him? yes, you realized how skeptical your behavior was. but for him to come to the assumption that you'd cheat on him? it stung a little—a lot, actually.
"what? no... no, of course not, kento! how could you say that?" you retorted, finally looking him in the eyes.
"gee, i don't know, maybe 'cause you can barely even look at me and you're very obviously hiding something!" his voice raising more with each word spoken.
you had no argument to counter what he had just laid out to you because he was right. you couldn't look at him for more than 5 seconds and you were hiding something. you eyed the floor beneath you, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to think of something to say. nothing ever came out though.
a heavy sigh cut through your thoughts. you looked up from the floor and saw nanami shaking his head, running his hand down his face. he was so disappointed, you could feel his hurt radiating off of him.
"i'm going to sleep," he muttered, reaching for the lamp and dimming it. lying down, nanami shuffled into a more comfortable position, facing away from your side of the bed, and pulling the covers up to his shoulders.
"ken—"
"night, y/n."
you didn't know what you were going to say anyways. tears slid down your cheeks and the least you could do for nanami was keep quiet and let him rest. you realized that you wanted to apologize. apologize for the way you had been behaving towards him this entire evening, for making him doubt your faithfulness to him.
you slid into bed next to him, facing away from him as well. your body shook with the sobs you fought hard to keep in, nose stuffy and pillow quickly becoming soaked. you thought that the positive pregnancy test would have been the downfall of this relationship—now you wonder, will this argument turn these past 5 years into a mere memory?
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Left at the Altar - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.
Edit: Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue
Master List
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Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.
Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.
That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.
And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.
As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.
You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.
Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.
Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.
Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.
You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”
“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”
“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”
“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”
“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”
“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”
“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.
“Damn straight.”
You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.
“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.
“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”
“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”
Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.
You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.
Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.
But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.
Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.
He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.
“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.
“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”
Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.
“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.
“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”
“Where is he then?”
“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”
“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.
It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.
Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.
“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”
“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”
“Thanks Jake.”
“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”
You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.
“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”
Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.
“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.
“What?”
“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”
Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.
“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”
The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.
Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.
Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.
Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.
Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.
“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.
“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.
About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.
You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.
“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.
“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.
As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.
Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!
You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.
Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue
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headspace-hotel · 2 months
Text
i'm...thinking about writing a book?
I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.
I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.
I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.
I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.
I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.
I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.
The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.
If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.
And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.
I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.
And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.
I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."
This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.
It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:
"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"
I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.
It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.
I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.
But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.
To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.
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flightlessangelwings · 6 months
Text
My Knight in White
Marc Spector x fem!reader
Word count- 4.3k
Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n
About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts
Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!
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~
“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.
He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you. 
Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.
“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”
“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.
“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”
It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.
Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.
“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”
He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”
“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”
Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”
He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.
You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.
Too late.
You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.
“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”
A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.
“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”
The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”
The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.
“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.
You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.
“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.
Suddenly, your luck changed.
Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.
You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.
The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.
He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.
You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.
“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.
Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”
As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.
You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.
It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.
“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.
You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”
He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared. 
You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.
The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.
*
In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.
Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did. 
Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you… 
“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. 
You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed. 
He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”
Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.
Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”
Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”
“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”
The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”
Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.
You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”
“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”
Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…
“Marc…”
“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.  
Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him. 
But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off. 
Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.
“Marc?” your voice shook.
“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”
“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.
“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”
Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.
“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”
You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”
He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”
Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”
There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so. 
As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do. 
But that plan also quickly backfired. 
You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.
“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.
Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.
“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you. 
The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.
More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.
You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.
“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.
The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?” 
“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.
“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”
The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded. 
When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.
You ran. 
Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry. 
Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.
And then you heard it.
Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”
You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.
“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms. 
The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear. 
“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.
“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.
“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.
The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.
“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”
Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.
“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”
You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”
Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.
This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.
Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”
Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”
Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.
You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.
“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”
“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.
“Please Marc,” you pleaded. 
“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.
Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.
“Marc…”
He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, ���You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”
“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.
“Marc… I’m…”
“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.
Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.
He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.
Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.
“Marc, I…”
“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”
You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.
Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.” 
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
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What We Are
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda discovers all the things that Vision's done for her that have made her heart flutter was your idea.
Warnings: it's not angst...but it's not not angst. Also not beta'd.
Note: why do i feel bad for stealing vision's thunder. Also I will fix my mistakes later when I mortifyingly see them later :-)
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
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It was a Tuesday when Wanda dropped by. 
The rain had been pouring relentlessly, and she had magicked herself to your front door, but even so, she was still soaked to the bone. It was late June and just a few minutes past dawn when you heard the hesitant knocks on your door. 
The years of working for Stark have made you paranoid as you check through the peephole carefully to see who could be at your door. Your heart constricts momentarily when your eyes land on familiar red hair and those melancholy green eyes. 
You opened the door, swallowing as you took her in. Drops of rain dripped down her cheek, almost like tears, as you let her in. 
"Wanda," you blinked, the questions building in your mouth but unsure which would come out first. You settled with, "let me get you a towel."
You opened the door wider to allow her to slip through wordlessly before shutting and locking it with a soft click. The rain outside pours relentlessly that it almost feels deafening in the silence. 
She stood in the hallway between the kitchen and your living room. Wanda looked around the quaint home you've built for yourself and felt even more lost. 
You returned with a dark navy towel, sighing as you sling it over her wet head, gently drying her hair. "What's the point of using your magic to get here if you're going to get soaked outside anyway?"
Wanda didn't say anything, just allowing herself to be under your care. 
This is familiar. 
It was a time before Vision and just a little after when Wanda began to see him too. Then, it was Vision's job to take care of Wanda, and all of it went away—you went away. 
"You should take a hot shower," you told her. 
"I don't really catch colds anymore," Wanda mumbles softly. 
"Lucky you, but you're still dripping on my floor and your nose is all cold and red. I can't imagine the rest of you is toasty warm," you smirked at her, and Wanda wanted to tell you that the tip of her ears was hot, but then she'd have to admit she was blushing. 
You guided her upstairs to the bathroom, gave her a towel and a set of comfortable clothing, and told her to use anything she felt like using. Once she finished, she could meet you downstairs, where you'd be making breakfast. 
Before you left, Wanda's quiet voice stopped you. "Thank you." Her voice is hoarse like she's about to cry. But it was sincere, and you gave her a light-hearted smile to put her at ease. 
"It's good to see you, Wanda."
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Wanda's skin feels warm and soft, the bath doing her wonders. She hoped you hadn't been waiting too long, but Wanda couldn't resist taking a soak first. She wiped the bathroom mirror of the fog and looked at her reflection. The bath helped return some color to her skin, but she still looked tired with her dark circles.  
Wanda only towel-dried her hair just enough to ensure it wouldn't drip on your floor. She felt only a little embarrassed to be given clean underwear by you but not a bra. The clothes you give her are soft, comforting, and smell like clean linens and leaves. 
This is crazy, Wanda thought. 
She hadn't seen you in months, and prior to that, it was always sporadic and brief. 
Wanda hadn't known what compelled her to show up at your door, but she knew much of it was due to loneliness. 
Everyone was gone.
But Wanda had hardly slept and hated how Scotland looked suddenly and decided that Portland would be better—Portland—where you've been living for years. 
The smell of bread, honey, and mushroom soup filled the air when she left the bathroom. Her stomach rumbled unabashedly, and she was glad you couldn't hear it. As she entered the kitchen, she found you chopping dill and parsley. 
"Hey," you looked up at her, smiling as she fidgeted with the ends of her sleeve. "Have a nice bath?"
Wanda nodded, giving you an awkward jilt of her lips meant to be a smile. "Thanks. Did you need help with anything?"
You shook your head. "Should be finished any moment now. I wasn't sure how hungry you'd be with it being so early but I thought something warm would be nice. Why don't you take a seat? I left out some bread, butter, and honey for you."
Wanda felt something crawl at the back of her throat as she sat. It was such a traditional breakfast, and it reminded her how Vision once tried to make paprikash for her. 
"I'm sorry," Wanda said suddenly. "For just showing up here."
You were silent. The sound of your chopping paused momentarily before it resumed again. "It's fine," you told her. "I mean, I wish you'd call in case I wasn't home. It would've been awful for you to stand out there alone."
But Wanda didn't know how to explain that your unused phone number was more daunting than just showing up. She didn't know how to explain anything. 
"Are you not often home?" Wanda asked instead.
You hummed. "Not often, but occasionally I do consulting work for some non-profit companies. It gets boring being retired sometimes."
Wanda nodded. 
It was lonely being retired alone. She had looked around your house and found no pictures or indications that you might've been seeing anybody. It brought forth something strange that she didn't know how to identify, so she placed it aside to be forgotten. 
It was quiet again, and Wanda felt restless. There were just so many feelings inside that she couldn't sort them. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream. She was relieved. She was anxious. She was a mess.
"Breathe, Wanda."
The words were unexpected. She sharply looked up to find you not even looking at her as you squeezed lemon juice into the pot. 
Taking a deep breath and releasing it quietly, Wanda was pretty sure she just wanted to cry now. 
"I'm sorry," Wanda repeated. She didn't know what else she could say. "I know it's been a while since we've last seen each other—spoke to each other. And now I'm here, and I've shown up unannounced and taken a bath, and now I'm wearing your clothes—I must seem crazy to you."
You just started to laugh, coughing lightly to cover it up when she gave you a look. "You don't have to explain anything to me," you told her, stirring the pot before grabbing some plates. "I know it's been hard."
There was a pause as if you were hesitating to say it before you decided to. "You miss Vision."
The words instantly hit the back of Wanda's throat and made her eyes water. "Yes," she could barely get a single word out.
"I know," you told her softly as you came over with a bowl of mushroom soup that looked amazing, but all she could smell was her own salty tears. 
Wanda couldn't hold it in then as she placed her elbows on the table, her face in her hands as her shoulders wrack. "I can't believe they're all gone. I keep waking up and expecting to see him. I feel like I can't breathe. It's not fair. It's not fair."
You rubbed her back, and she leaned into you, the familiar feeling of it all like it was just yesterday she was at the compound, alone and confused after losing Pietro. 
Wanda didn't even know what you did for Stark, but you were always around. You showed her to her room, gave her Tony's stream services passwords, and gave her a list of all the shows and movies she was to catch up on. 
Wanda wondered where all of that went, and she could only vaguely remember ending when Vision was beginning. But Vision was different. He had said something so profound that it had given her the courage to keep moving on. 
"I know," you told her, brushing your fingers through her soft, damp hair. "You have a lot of love to give and nowhere for it to go. It's just what grief is, Wanda. And if you're grieving, then you're persevering."
Wanda stiffened in your arms. 
It was so familiar. It was just a rewrite of words she's heard before—words she had never told anyone else. 
"Did Vision tell you that?" Wanda thought wryly as she straightened herself to look at you.
You looked momentarily confused before guilty and awkward. You let her go, but Wanda hung on. 
"Did he tell you?" Wanda pressed on. "Those words—did he tell you that they were the biggest reason I could keep going?"
Wanda looked so angry. The idea of being betrayed by someone she loved sharing something so private had you sighing. 
"No," You reassure her. "Vision didn't tell me."
"Then why—"
"I told Vision that." You cut in, the words leaving your mouth in a tumbled mess that was awkward and clearly made you uncomfortable. 
Wanda sat there with mild shock on her face.
"You...?"
You rubbed at your brow, taking in a tired breath. "Vision was very interested in you, and he came to ask me why you were silently holed up in your room. He knew what grieving was, but he didn't understand it like we do. Not yet, anyway," you muttered.
Wanda looked at you. You looked tense and reluctant to share any of this information, and she didn't understand why.
"I told him because you were grieving, but you also still had love to give. I told him he doesn't understand yet because he's always been alone and is lucky to have never lost anyone. You can't grieve what you've never lost," you had a distant look in your eye, and Wanda wondered if you were reliving this conversation with him.
"I told Vision that you were going to be okay, though," you shook your head as if brushing the memory away. "Grief was just love that had nowhere to go; it is persevering through loss." 
The words rock Wanda much harder than they did years ago. Maybe because the truth behind the words that had given her way when she was lost was actually from you. 
You, who let her show up at your door unannounced. You, who would always let her show up at your door unannounced. 
You have always given her a way to remain still, a way to return, and a way to move forward. 
"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Wanda's voice cracked.
It cracked because perhaps before Vision, she thought there might've been you. It never came close to anything, but Wanda still felt it. And that's why she showed up at your door on a Tuesday in late June just a few minutes past dawn. 
You shrugged. "You seemed interested in Vision too. Curious, at the very least. We...I never really knew what we were. Friends, I think, at that time. Just barely, though."
Wanda remained quiet. The mushroom soup was going to go cold soon, but you didn't seem to mind as you tore a part of a piece of bread into uneaten chunks. 
You seemed thoughtful. "I used to think we were just a case of 'almost'. Almost friends. Almost teammates. Almost something and almost nothing." You turned to her and gave her an unsure smile. "But now you're here on a Tuesday when I had been considering an hour before you arrived that even almost is gone."
Wanda replayed the words in her head and felt the unease she was experiencing the last few months slip away. She's still grieving, but just as you said, it was just her love having no place to go. 
But...
Wanda looked at you as she took hold of the spoon and scooped some of the soup up. She's sure in time, her love will have a place to go again. 
"Did you tell Vision anything else?"
You smiled at her as you also began to eat. 
"I told him you'd appreciate paprikash. I can't take responsibility for him following my instructions wrong, though."
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fairuzfan · 5 months
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hello!! I don't know if this is appropriate (pls do not feel obligated to answer) but i was wondering what were ur thoughts on the israeli grass-roots movement Standing Together. I first found out abt them through a tumblr post that shared this substack article (https://theconnector.substack.com/p/if-its-not-helping-then-shut-the). the article immediately put an extremely bad taste in my mouth towards the movement and its founders, but i dont know if i'm being overly-critical of them.
Hey thanks for sending this in. No worries, it's totally ok. I was actually debating whether or not to publish this, mostly because I was afraid this would distract from Gaza, but I decided that it's imperative to stop normalizers from squeezing their way into the movement. Remember, the demands of the Palestinian people begin and end with liberation. Everything else is irrelevant and pointless to the cause.
So first off — I don't think you're being overly-critical of them at all. The first red flag of both this article and the group themselves is that they often exchange "Palestinian" with "Arab" and "Israeli" with "Jewish." That right off the bat shows me they have no respect for Palestinians and see Jewish people and Palestinians as mutually exclusive categories. I've spoken on this blog before about how racist it is to assume no Palestinian is Jewish and vice versa and this group really illustrates the forced division they imagine within their own goals and wording.
The article itself is quite anti-Palestinian in its erasure — it talks about avoiding words like "genocide," and "apartheid," and "ethnic cleansing" because "they are serious people trying to actually get something done." I really don't understand why not using those words makes you a serious person. If anything, it erases a description of how to define what it happening to Palestinians.
The whole redefinition of "peace" in this article and group is just calmness. These people are not advocating for peace in which families are reunited and land is given back — they are advocating for a muted version of the status quo of the current political system, just with less obviously fanatical governments. Peace cannot be attained when the people directly affected cannot have a say in defining it. They won't even say the word "apartheid." It's not some scholarly word with no meaning — it has actual consequences and effects on people (click). Palestinians are tried in military court. Their movement is monitored and restricted. It means that there are different legal systems for different people (click)! If you reject that this exists, then you're not interested in making the lives of Palestinians better — you're only interested in making your own life more comfortable.
As soon as you remove our ability to say words like "genocide" and "apartheid", you remove our ability to determine what happens specifically to Palestinians based on racism. By only saying "Palestinians are getting killed" an Israeli can come in and say "well so am I, by Hamas! Let's work together to end the killing" when it ignores that this is a systematic effort to completely wipe out all trace of Palestinians from the world.
It's like saying, "Don't say you have arthritis, say your joints hurt. And well, that happens to everyone, so let's just find a way to stop all our joints from hurting!" Then you work with people who fundamentally don't understand your pain and symptoms, oversimplifying your situation to the point of malicious universality. Sure, everyone's joints hurt, but my joints are hurting because my immune system is attacking them, not because of old age. You can't help my arthritis the same way you can wear a heat/cold patch to sooth your joints — there are other problems you're ignoring that all work together to cause me systematic pain and might cause bigger problems in the future if left untreated properly.
Similar symptoms don't mean similar causes and ignoring that is fundamentally ignoring the root issue and attempting to trivialize Palestinian's suffering. As soon as you take away the words to describe our situation, it doesn't sound so bad, does it?
Now, basically, the... weirdest part of the article is this excerpt:
People like him in Israel are very aware of how the left here is talking about them, and it’s not helping. “You can call me a colonizer or a settler,” he declared, “but I’m not going anywhere. And neither are the Palestinians.” When people chant, “Palestine will be free,” he said, “we Israelis hear, ‘without you.’ In the same way that a lot of Palestinians hear the ministers in Bibi’s government speak and think they want to do the same thing to them.” The problem as they both see it is that we are caught between two polar opposites. “Hamas believes in Greater Palestine,” Green said. “And on the other side we have people who believe in the idea of Greater Israel.” Indeed, that concept is in the charter of Netanyahu’s Likud Party. “Both sides have very problematic governing bodies,” he added. And the status quo of maintaining the occupation and managing the conflict has been exploded now.
Well, first off, Hamas is not the only one who believes in "Greater Palestine." Palestinians around the globe have been fighting for that since 1948. Second off, it's quite odd that you would center yourself in the wake of the ongoing slaughter of 10,000 people, with no end in sight. Right now, I would assume you'd be advocating for an end to the mass killings first and foremost, but you seem to be more worried about your right to stolen land.
Third, this completely erases the violence done to Palestinians the past 75+ years in favor for a "peace" that will only allow citizens of Israel comfort in their lives. Sure Palestinian citizens of Israel might have more comfortable lives, maybe (although I doubt it). But what about Gaza, which has been ravaged by Israel? What about the people in the Occupied Territories, whose economy depends on Israel, which controls it? What about the millions of refugees around the world who can't so much as see the place where they grew up because they've been exiled? The colonization of Palestine by Israel is not so old — there are people STILL ALIVE who participated in the massacres of Palestinians in 1948 and 1967 and walk around without facing any real consequences for that. My great-grandmother had seen both and she only passed away a couple of years ago. Where is the "peace" for her? Where is the "peace" for millions like her who still dream of going back to their childhood home?
This group AND the article tries to cloud your view into illustrating two opposing groups with equal power. They aren't. Palestinians, unfortunately, endure systematic oppression both within Gaza and throughout Palestine. Each and every time they try to resist peacefully, they've been shot, abducted, or imprisoned. The Great March of Return is one such example. BDS is also an example, yet that has constantly been outlawed by American governments. There have been a plethora of Palestinian artists, writers, and filmmakers who have been silenced or killed for advocating for a Free Palestine. Most recently, this included Heba Abu-Nada who was an award winning poet and writer who was martyred on October 20th after getting shelled by an Israeli missile. Ghassan Kanafani also was assassinated last century. The list goes on. Palestinians have no hope of "changing the system from within" because that internal change will always depend on the mercy of the Israelis that pretend to ally themselves with the Palestinians. Someone in Gaza cannot leave their refugee camp and go back to their ancestral home because no one in this group is advocating for that — and remember, the right of return is an essential part of the demands of the Palestinian people and we cannot ignore that for a forced "peace" that favors calmness over actual justice.
Now as we examine the group themselves, here is their mission statement/goal:
Standing Together is a progressive grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel against the occupation and for peace, equality, and social justice. We know that the majority have far more in common than that which sets us apart and only a tiny minority benefits from the status quo. The future that we want-peace and independence for Israelis and Palestinians, full equality for everyone in this land, and true social, economic, and environmental justice — is possible. To achieve this future, we must stand together as a united front: Jewish and Palestinian, secular and religious, Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, rural and urban, and people of all genders and sexual orientations. As the largest Jewish-Arab grassroots movement in Israel, we are committed to creating an alternative to our existing reality and building the political strength to make this transformation possible.
Yet again, they are separating "Palestinian" and "Jewish," reinforcing this dichotomy that's so harmful. AND they're interchanging "Palestinian" and "Arab," which erases the diversity within Palestinian society. A group that makes the distinction between "Palestinian" and "Jewish" shows that they are not interested in the restitution of Palestinians but rather solidifying their own position within society by emphasizing a false dichotomy between "Palestinians" and "Jews" with no potential for overlap.
They mention "true justice" but "true justice" doesn't exist if there are no reparations towards the people who have been exiled and displaced, murdered, and tortured the past 75+ years. Justice is not an abstract concept — it is adhering to the demands of the people most impacted by systematic oppression, which is the Palestinians.
Looking at their leadership, there are only a couple of Palestinians with the vast majority of them being non-Palestinian. Sorry, but I'm wholly uninterested in "peace" and "equality" movements that are not made up of majority Palestinians. It's only common sense that you would expect such a movement to be led by Palestinians themselves — but this group seems to use Sally Abed as a token Palestinian who furthers their narrative of wanting "peace" in Israeli society. And even looking at their action items, you can see they make a point about emphasizing safety for the *Israeli* citizens above all else, stating that their far right government does nothing to serve the citizens of Israel. They claim it will also bring safety for Gazans, but how? You can advocate for a change in the government, yes, but if the people in Gaza are subject to getting their rights taken away based on the whims of whoever happens to be in power then no amount of "internal" activism in Israeli society will help them. They will always be at the mercy of the people who have a vested interest in erasing the people of Gaza and the West Bank so that they may take over their land.
Please remember, the civil rights movement of the 60s and the BLM Movement of this century were led by and FOR Black people of the United States because they were the ones making the demands for a change in their circumstances. Because at the end of the day, the people who are the most oppressed deserve the right to decide how their future appears and should not be dictated by the oppressor in any way.
This group tries to make a separation between the "Israeli people" and the "Israeli government." Right away, I have to laugh. They act as if the colonization of Palestine is too old for anyone to remember its origins — no. I had family living in Palestine as recently as '67. Maybe *this* generation didn't choose to settle in Palestine, but the previous generation did. And the generations before that. Before 1948, Israel didn't even exist. Hell, before a couple hundred years ago, BORDERS didn't exist. Not to mention, mandatory conscription means that most civilians will have been directly part of the suppressing forces, making them liable for the material effects of colonization. Why are people so resistant to the idea of undoing colonialism and its effects? I cannot think of any other reason than because they have a vested interest in keeping those borders up, in emphasizing nationality because they're one of the groups of people that is benefited from the establishment of a "Jewish State."
So in that, unless you call for an end to the idea of the "Jewish State" in Palestine, then I cannot think of you as a sincere advocate for Palestinian rights — this group especially plays at normalization of a muted version of the status quo rather than actual justice and reparations. The "Israeli advocates" within this group will benefit first and foremost in their own activism — therefore it's hard for me to view them in a positive light.
All activism for Palestinians should center around giving Palestinians reparations, as well as giving reparations to all indigenous victims of colonization. I think this group only tries to muddy the waters to make people forget what they're fighting for. I honestly do not understand why liberation scares you, if it means that no nation-state will have complete and total power over you and your family.
"Free Palestine" is an anti-colonial movement. Such a thing is possible — but you have to try to make it possible. Those against the unending liberation of all people are one of those who have the most to benefit from the continuation of colonization.
Right now, your main concern should be the people of Gaza and the people of the West Bank, and ensuring their safety and longevity in the face on continued erasure. "Peace" is all well and good but who exactly gets to define that? Who gets to benefit most from it? Unless you can unequivocally answer "ALL Palestinians," then you're not an ally — you're only interested in helping yourselves.
Remember — the fact that we even had to fight for our rights is itself an injustice. At the very least, ask the people who are most affected what they want before you listen to Israelis who have a vested interest in keeping the state of Israel alive.
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galactic-rhea · 3 months
Text
WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad
I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.
As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.
And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."
And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.
Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?
So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.
"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"
Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.
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Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"
And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"
I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."
I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.
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(Uncomfortable silence)
Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.
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Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?
I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.
But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.
I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂
Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.
And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.
Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.
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Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 9 months
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Oops, all catboys! pt. 1 - Tokyo Rev Edition
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Pairings: Kokonoi, Baji, Kazutora, Chifuyu x reader (separately)
Warnings: Catboy au, sub characters, gn!reader, dom!reader, mentions of breeding
Genre/Format: Smut; Short scenarios
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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Imagine sweet little catboy Chifuyu who waits for you to come home. He sits on the couch or waits right by the door if he's feeling extra clingy, and once you walk inside he's already hugging you and asking about your day, looking at you expectantly. You know what he wants but you can't help pretending like you don't, waiting until he's whining and nuzzling into your chest, muttering about how he's waited all day for you, he needs you...
Sweet little catboy Chifuyu who's a blushing mess as you take his hand and lead him into the bedroom, tossing him onto the bed and crawling on top of him.
Sweet little catboy Chifuyu whose ears flatten against his head when you loom over him with that hungry expression, like a predator about to eat its prey. You lean down to taste his lips, pushing your leg against his bulge and he whines, humping at your leg instinctively
Sweet little catboy Chifuyu whose face is shoved into the pillows, clawing at the sheets as you fuck his ass, making the cutest noises as you claim him
“Nya...m-more... Nyaa—!” He wails as you smack his cute cheeks, his whole body jerking at the sudden motion. “Master...please fuck me more...aaahh~”
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Imagine precious catboy Baji who acts tough around everyone else except you, picking fights with other catboys and humans alike, all because they said something not nice about you
Precious catboy Baji who pouts and defends himself, claiming that they had it coming. You're not mad, but you're worried that one day he's going to get seriously hurt, so you still scold him
Precious catboy Baji whose tail flicks back and forth when you tease him, “You really care about me that much, huh?” You can't stop a smile from forming as you think about everything he does to defend your image
Precious catboy Baji who quickly loses his composure when you push him down and yank off his pants, telling him that he deserves a treat for being so thoughtful. You take him into your mouth and begin coating his dick with your saliva, bobbing your head up and down his length
Precious catboy Baji who can't stop panting and grunting as you take every inch of him, his thighs squeezing around your head as he thrusts into your mouth, “Aah...mm fuck...y-yeah, just. like. that.”
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Imagine bratty catboy Kokonoi who purposely riles you up just to earn more punishment. Ignoring you when you ask him to do something, sitting on top of you or on tables and even shelves when you've told him not to do that, talking back or mimicking you every other sentence
Bratty catboy Kokonoi who sits on the kitchen counter and waits until you walk into the room to knock something over, tilting his head and acting like he doesn't understand why you're so mad at him
Bratty catboy Kokonoi whose legs tremble as you fuck him against the counter, clawing at the surface as you breed his tight ass, drooling all over your fingers shoved in his mouth
Bratty catboy Kokonoi who cries out for you to fill him up again, “Nyaaa~ Yes, Master, please...breed me more~ ” He exclaims, scratching at whatever part of you he can reach as you ruin him. “Put it all inside of me~ Nyyaaa—!! ”
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Imagine possessive catboy Kazutora who glares and growls when other people get too close to you. You leave him at home more often than not, dealing with his clinginess at home is preferable to dealing with him attacking strangers just because they brush past you in the store
Possessive catboy Kazutora who's attached to your side as soon as you walk through the front door, rubbing his cheek against your arm and saying how he missed you so much
Possessive catboy Kazutora who just loves you so much, he'd do just about anything for you, even sinking to his knees in front of you and grinding against your shoe like you asked
Possessive catboy Kazutora who gets pulled into your lap and forced to hump your thigh if he wants to cum. Groaning into the crook of your neck about how good it feels, his hard cock smearing your pants with precum
“Mmm...Master...I– haah—! I love you....aah~ ”
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
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