#foreign language tv i mean

[ranticore]

may i ask what your academic background is? did you or do you study biology/anthropology/related subjects? i'm really curious as to how you got to such a degree of specificity in the anatomy and culture side of your world-building!! it's really inspiring!

marine & freshwater ecology with also some years in veterinary (though i never worked in the field beyond mandatory internships, knew it wasn't for me). always loved anatomy & physiology, when i was in my veterinary course i did an elective on human anatomy for radiography and it was sooo cool. i mostly work with invertebrates now :)

as for anthropology?? i know jack shit really aside from what i've picked up through osmosis over the years and a single semester of elective forensic anthropology & primatology, which nearly exclusively focused on arranging skeletons into anatomical order in a lab and learning about human evolution before Homo sapiens. culture i just have fun with, it's the thing that has the most potential to build a fascinating setting imo, moreso than very complex or unique alien body plans or knowing what exact gases comprise an atmosphere (obligatory ymmv statement)

i've used Siren as a sort of testbed for any random idea for a culture i've ever had and thrown them all in together because it's a whole planet, so it has the diversity of a whole planet. It's why I prefer to group people based on where they're from rather than what body plan they have. The rest follows; say I have fifty different pelagic villages across the whole world, that means fifty different cultures with their own specific beliefs, building styles, communication styles, attitudes towards relationships, etc, and yes fifty different languages, but all of these are informed by the specific pressures of living underwater. a phocid from a spiral pelagic village might think the cultural practices of a phocid from an eastern pelagic village are alien and strange (and in fact they do; some of the eastern villages have active monarchies which would be all but inconceivable to anyone from the west in this time period), but a spiral phocid and a spiral shortwing would have a lot in common.

#thank you <3 #it's hard to articulate it but i also think it helps to be in a culture which is not considered an anglosphere default #i can see SO clearly the differences in how irish ppl behave compared to american or british #the communication style is VASTLY different and i don't mean language or vocabulary #so you get to see multiple sides of something instead of just one default #grew up watching foreign movies (american). watching foreign tv shows (british). etc. you start to see the edges of it

[meistoshim]

anyway the longer he travels with pikachu & lucario the more satoshi picks up their respective bits of pokéspeak & the more attuned to their auras he gets the better he can understand them until eventually he does understand them just as well as he would any human. his other pokémon need a little more effort to be understood because he isn't necessarily as close to them as he is to pikachu & lucario, but he picks up on words, on phrases, like knowing a sixth of a foreign language.

#yknow how sometimes you can only watch a show on tv in a foreign language youve never learned & bc you watch it so long you just #start picking up on things??? & even tho you cant read it or speak it yourself you can kind of understand the language???? #im not talking abt watching subs; i mean on tv watching smth on a foreign channel that doesnt have subtitles At All #for like a whole year once i could only watch himym on a norwegian channel & i wound up understanding the break ads #cant speak norwegian but i sure understand when s1's tryin to sell me sunflower seeds #anyway yea just. :) #▐█ ▌ ◇ — ( pkmn is autistic culture. ) #▐█ ▌ ◇ — ( study. )

[pileofmush]

you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood. 

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”  

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares. 

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold. 

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed. 

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him. 

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?” 

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.” 

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows. 

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?” 

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it. 

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first. 

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.” 

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin. 

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts. 

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly. 

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?” 

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something. 

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen. 

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it. 

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple. 

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” 

Yeaaaah. It’s true.  

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used. 

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again. 

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.  

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor. 

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open. 

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway. 

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you. 

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?” 

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”  

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you. 

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.  

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his. 

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard. 

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen. 

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods. 

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe. 

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life. 

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return. 

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again. 

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes. 

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. 

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you. 

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask. 

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—” 

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out." 

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean. 

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones. 

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu. 

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs. 

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear. 

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart. 

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly. 

…You don’t know if you want to. 

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close. 

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.  

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh. 

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."  

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement. 

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it. 

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done. 

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment. 

You scrub, and scrub. 

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command. 

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body. 

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting. 

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.” 

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night. 

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together. 

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on. 

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?” 

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—” 

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—” 

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him. 

You look at him.  

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you. 

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish. 

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?” 

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach. 

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams. 

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖ #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta x you #yuta x you #jjk x gn!reader #tw: blood #tw: death #m.jjk #m.yuuta #battle scarred; #yuuta my beloved <3

[tuktukpodfics]

The Problem With "Dao Swords": My love-hate relationship with pleonastic translations

An essay that no one asked for.

A lot of fanfics call Zuko’s broadswords “dao swords.” As a Chinese to English translator, this phrase makes me pause every time. Here is my humble opinion on “dao swords” and other pleonastic translations:

What the heck is a pleonastic translation?

I’m so glad you asked! “Pleonasm” is a fancy term for a redundant phrase, like “black darkness” or “burning fire.”

A pleonastic translation is a phrase that puts the source language and the translation back-to-back. A common example is “chai tea” which literally means “tea tea.”

“Dao swords” is a pleonastic translation. “Dao” 刀 is the Chinese blanket term for blade. The phrase basically means “sword swords.” Sounds pretty silly, right?

Pleonastic translations are bad?

I think it depends on your audience, the text purpose, and how special the word is.

In advertising, pleonastic translations can help increase a product’s searchability. Ex: “Longjing Dragonwell tea” would appear in a Google search for either “longjing” or “dragonwell.”

Tourist destinations often use pleonastic translations to help foreigners navigate. Ex: “Nanzhan South Station” on a map helps foreigners know what the place is, but also gives them the Chinese pronunciation so that they can communicate with their taxi driver.

In literature, a pleonastic translation is a succinct way to introduce a culturally significant term without a footnote or distracting tangent. A lot of translators will sneak in a pleonastic translation the first time the word appears in a text, and then use the untranslated term alone every time after. Ex: "He slouched on the kang bed-stove. His grandmother sighed and took a seat on the kang too.”

Is "dao" a culturally significant word?

No.

Dao is a super mundane word used to describe any kind of single-edged blade, from butter knives to ice skates. It feels weird to keep such a normal word untranslated. Using the Chinese word emphasizes its foreignness. They’re not just swords, they’re special, Chinese swords. 

Yes, words take on different meanings as they pass from culture to culture. That’s how language works. But English is also a unique case. Because of imperialism. I think English speakers have an obligation to avoid exotifying every-day words.

Also, English is a global language. Chinese speakers are reading your translation, and…I dunno...“sword swords” feels off putting. Disruptive.

But I want to acknowledge the real-life culture behind the swords

Giving credit to the cultures that you're borrowing from is an A+ idea.

...I don't know how to do this in a fantasy setting.

Zuko’s swords and fighting style is based on oxtail sabers (牛尾刀）and Shaolin dual broadswords (少林双刀). @atlaculture has a very cool post on oxtail sabers. But calling his swords "oxtail sabers" doesn't work because cows don't exist in atla. Shaolin is a type of martial arts that originates from Shaolin temple in Henan, China (Shaolin itself literally means “young forest”). But you can’t call them “Shaolin broadswords," since Shaolin does not exist in the Fire Nation.

It’s quite a pickle.

Maybe just use a footnote?

So what should I call Zuko’s swords?

I don’t know.

I think you can just call them broadswords. That’s what the TV show calls them.

Dao by itself could work too if you need to differentiate Zuko's dao from Sokka's jian (double-edged blade). Readers can probably figure out what dao means from context.

If it’s not clear from context what dao means? *sigh* ..."Dao swords" it is, I guess.

To end on a happier note, here is a video of Chang Zhizhao busting some sweet moves.

#atla #dao swords #shaolin #zuko #transaltion #dual broadswords #thank you for coming to my tedtalk #Youtube

[queerism1969]

What is something about being LGBT that a straight person would never guess is a thing you have to deal with on a regular basis?

People asking how you have sex

Once you come out, you never truly stop coming out.

Being queer means that you are going to be really lonely a lot of the time.

The mini internal debate you have every time you tell a story about your SO. Do I say friend or girlfriend? Have I come out to this person yet?

People ask if I know X person because they're also gay.

When you're gay, there's a very real chance your Significant Other will not have a family to bring you into.

Any expression of my sexuality is "being in your face about it" and "it shouldn't be your whole personality".

Everyone had an opinion about my mere existence.

People legitimately question the validity of your relationship, and whether it's just a phase-especially if you're bisexual

Straight people always want to know what your type is. It always feels like a test to see if you find them attractive.

How to properly have sex. They REALLY don't teach you that in sex education.

You never know who is secretly homophobic whether at work or in public, so you always have to act "straight" in a lot of situations

You get sick of never being represented in media, but straight people don't really get it.

Getting polite service is difficult.

Office workers will sometimes purposely send you on goose chases because they don’t want to serve you.

Before y'all knew I was gay, you talked a lot of smack about "the gays." You don't remember, but I remember. I will always remember.

Losing nail clippers can really harm a relationship.

Being queer sometimes feels like being a 30-something-year-old teenager in a community full of 30-something teenagers and weirdly grown-up kids who’ve been living on their own since being kicked out by their bigoted parents at 16.

We have to constantly police our language.

The shame/internalized homophobia.

Your right to exist being a political debate

Wondering when the Supreme Court will revoke my rights.

You can’t really just have sex on a whim... You have to spend time (a lot more than you think) to clean.

While closeted, probably the weight of the secret or the fear of someone finding out.

A gay person will watch any TV show or movie, no matter how bad, if they hear there is even a slice of positive gay representation in it.

When a gay couple kisses in public, people stare. Not even out of disgust or anything, but just because it’s still kind of foreign to them.

You can't always go to the place you want for your honeymoon, because you might get killed

Being described as someone’s “gay best friend” and not just their best friend.

Every time we tell someone we have a partner, and it catches them off-guard, they proceed to tell me about a gay person they know.

The doctor is always super surprised as to how we can be both sexually active and be 100% sure that we are not pregnant

People force you to come out, and they act like they’re doing you a favor.

You have to be prepared to lose any friendship at the drop of a hat

Every couple of years or so, we get a random homophobic death threat on social from someone we've never interacted with.

#lgbtqia #lgbtq community #lgbt pride #lesbian #nonbinary #sapphic #lgbtq #queer #nonbinary lesbian #gay girls #lgbt nsft #pride #lgbtqplus #queer community #queer culture #queer nsft #queer pride #queer artist #lgbt #trans #mtf pride #pride month #happy pride 🌈 #trans pride #gay pride #pride flag

[sanb3rry]

just finished blue lock and i can’t get that one episode of rin speaking in english out of my head…

may i request fluff of whipped!rin who so obviously pines for foreign!reader who he thinks doesn’t speak japanese (spoiler: they do!!) thank u ^.^

sorry it took me so long!! hope you like it <33

disclaimer !! : all times characters speak japanese will be written in bold italics.

hey, i think you're cute ! 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

it started off with small and frequent glances at the new manager. rin was just curious that was all it was, at least what it was supposed to be. for some reason, you're just so intriguing to him but he didn't exactly know why.

he sat next to you during one of the breaks and nudged you with his leg to get your attention before opening a small box of strawberry shortcake.

he knew for a fact you'd like it as he was listening to overheard you telling zantetsu out of all people that you did.

you glanced up from your volume of kimi ni todoke, "is that for me?" you asked, kinda confused.

the imaginary angel on your shoulder skipping and squealing over the thought of it and how this was ripped out of a shoujo manga.

rin nods, he was unable to maintain eye contact with you, you were so cute! this cannot be happening to him. the itoshi rin has a crush!? how preposterous!

"thank you, rin. that's really sweet of you." you said giddily as you put your book aside and took the cake.

he was happy as is, i mean his crush really sweet and pretty friend took the cake he bought just for her.

but, you had to go one step further and give him the first spoon. no no, not just give, feed him the first spoon. were foreigners always this bold? rin thinks his heart won't be able to handle this and thanks you before leaving.

you would've thought you made him uncomfortable but the flustered look on his face said otherwise.

"see you around, rin!" you waved. rin didn't hear you, he was too busy thinking about the interaction and trying to walk straight.

a few days passed before you were able to have a proper conversation with him.

"good day of training, rin?" you asked as you handed him his water bottle. "yes-" his words failed him as his eyes widened. did you just speak japanese or was he becoming crazy?

ten seconds passed by,

then twenty,

.

.

.

it's probably been a minute now.

rin just stood there staring at you, you were getting nervous. "are..are you alright? was i too informal?" you asked frantically, getting ready to apologise.

"no, sorry, you're fine. i . . . didn't know you spoke japanese." he said sheepishly, looking away from you.

"oh! that's okay. i was so sure you knew though." you wondered out loud.

rin thought back to all the times he should've caught on. your japanese version of manga, the fact that managers have to know at least a little japanese or get it taught to them through daily language classes, when you said bye to him a few days earlier. he mentally slapped himself.

"i should've known." he mumbled to himself, he's disappointed that he got so distracted with his feelings that he forgot basic context clues.

"don't beat yourself up for it, rin. anyways, i think julian is calling for you guys." you said as you glanced at julian.

you laughed nervously, "i better get back to work." a nervous shudder following your words as you think back of the time anri got angry at the managers for slacking off.

you waved to rin before leaving, he might not show it but if this were a tv show he'd have flowers and sparkles around him to show how happy he was.

© sanb3rry2024

#✿ san's work ! #✿ san answers ! #✿ fluff #— ✿ ooc. #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabbles #itoshi rin headcanons #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin hcs #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock drabbles #bllk x reader #bllk itoshi rin #bllk rin x reader #rin x reader #rin fluff #bllk rin fluff #bllk rin drabbles #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi fluff #rin itoshi drabbles #itoshi brothers #itoshi rin comfort

[atinyniki]

instant ramen

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!lee felix x f!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, mentions of periods and hormonal imbalances, felix is a little mean, felix is referred to as lix, lixie, and felix.

authors note: i was bored and made a short little felix drabble ! this is also not proofread, i just had a thought and felt like posting it. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1483

(pt. 2) || (pt. 3)

it’s not everyday that felix comes home in a bad mood. he’s had just about the worst day at practice today. he couldn’t seem to be getting anything right, and often found himself zoning out and getting off track. 

you’ve had a long day too. you couldn’t seem to get out of bed this morning, and woke up in the late hours of the afternoon. your entire house was a mess, and you didn’t have the energy to clean it up. to make matters worse, your period is late and it’s left you grumpy the entire week.

it’s now almost midnight, and you’re sprawled out on the couch comfortably, watching some tv. you have felix’s fuzzy blanket over you, one you both always use when watching shows together. 

suddenly, you hear the familiar sound of the keys jingling at the door. the door flies open, and behind it, you see a tired felix, dark green hoodie shrouding his face. 

you slowly get up from the couch and turn off the tv, careful not to trip over anything while you make your way to the door. 

“why are you up so late y/n?”, his voice was low, tired, but he managed to muster a small smile.

“it’s not that late, i just wanted to wait for you.”

he slowly walked into the home, setting his bag down at the door. he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing some water to drink, when his eyes quickly dart to the dishes.

felix likes having the house clean. after living in a dorm with chaotic men who didn’t know how to clean up after themselves, it got pretty sickening. normally the house would be clean, but felix has been out recently due to his new comeback, and you’ve been busy with work. neither of you had the time to do simple tasks anymore.

seeing the dishes still dirty frustrated felix more, but he decided not to mention it and walked to the bathroom to take a quick shower. he passed by the living room, the cushions scattered messily on the floor, and then your shared bedroom. clothes had piled up in the two hampers you had, some had even fallen onto the floor.

some part in felix just snapped. 

“is it really that hard to put some clothes in the wash, y/n?”

you were zoned out, but his voice brought you back to reality. 

“sorry what did you say? i zoned-“

“nevermind…”

felix began to walk away, but you walked towards him, stopping him. 

“lix what’s wrong?”, you looked at him, your eyes full of concern. he let out a scoff, “what’s wrong? what’s wrong is that you’ve been home the entire day and the house is still a mess.” 

your eyes widen. normally, felix is understanding about these things. you only have one day off the entire week. you’ve been overworking yourself so much recently that you just needed today to be a break. 

“i’m really sorry lix, i’ll just do it tomorrow” 

he glares at you, a foreign look swirling in his eyes. “if you were really sorry, you would have cleaned up after yourself. you know i don’t have time for this. it would only take thirty minutes max to fix up the house a little.”

“you really need to start doing something with yourself y/n. i’m not going to be doing everything while you just sit around and watch tv all day.”

you started tearing up. you didn’t mean to, but you really wanted to cry. felix saw the tears brimming in your eyes, and he started to feel a lump growing in his throat.

you didn’t know what else to say. you looked down and heard the receding footsteps, making your way to your bedroom. the tears slowly fell from your eyes, but you didn’t dare to make a sound. your boyfriend had never spoken to you like that, and he never really got that cold.

you picked up the clothes off the floor, putting them into the hampers and making your way to the laundry room. you put them in the wash and put the hampers back in your room.

you walked to the kitchen, and started to clean the dishes. you wanted to get it done as soon as possible, so felix could have a bit of relief when he got out of the shower. his words continued to replay in your head. you’ve been so exhausted recently, you felt bad that you couldn’t do anything for him.

you put the dishes back into their respective cabinets, and figured that felix would probably be hungry when he got out. you pulled out his favorite instant ramen, put it in the pot, and began making it for him. you hoped it would cheer him up. 

meanwhile, felix stays in the shower for longer than usual. he takes up the first eight minutes alone just standing in the warm stream, washing all the impurities off of his body. he stayed there for as long as he could, but for some reason, the guilt wouldn’t wash away with him.

he knew he shouldn’t have been so harsh. he didn’t mean to, he was just exhausted and already a little put off, but that’s no excuse to lash out at your girlfriend like that. after a while, he finally grabbed his shampoo, staring at the bottle for a moment before placing it back on the rack.

he reached down to grab your shampoo instead, the vanilla scent calming him down instantly. in a way, he felt closer to you. the foamy bubbles ran down his hair, and he began to wash the soap out of his hair. 

he then took another one of your items, your vanilla body wash. he liked that you’d always use vanilla scented items, it was easy to associate the smell with you. suddenly, the whole bathroom smelled like vanilla, smelled like you.

felix found the smell so comforting, almost like you were right there with him. he closed his eyes, thinking about what he said to you. he knew that as soon as he got out, he’d apologize to you. 

he finally got out of the shower and put some comfortable clothes on. it was almost two in the morning now, so he was expecting you to be asleep. he figured he’d apologize to you tomorrow when you wake up. 

he makes his way to the bedroom, but to his surprise you aren’t there. he didn’t go looking for you, he figured you needed some space. he saw your keys on your dresser, so he knew you hadn’t left the house. 

all of a sudden, he sees you at the door, a wooden rack in your hand with a bowl on top, decorated blue chopsticks on the side. you place it on his nightstand, and start playing with your thumbs, contemplating what to say next.

“i’m sorry for leaving the house a mess today, i know you didn’t want to come back home to that sight. i’ve cleaned it all up now though, and i made you some ramen. i figured you’d be hungry”, you let out a nervous chuckle. 

you looked up, and your heart immediately dropped to the pit of your stomach. you thought felix would be mad at you, but you didn’t expect him to cry.

he took your hand in his and let out a shaky breath. “i’m so sorry y/n. i truly didn’t mean what i said, i was just frustrated and seeing a messy house set me off a little bit. i promise it won’t happen again, please don’t overwork yourself just for my sake.”

you quickly wrapped him in a hug, “don’t cry lix, it’s okay. you’re just tired, i know you didn’t mean it”. you gave him a quick peck on his forehead, before running your fingers through his hair. 

he buried his head in your chest, inhaling the scent he’d been craving for the past hour, staining your his hoodie with his tears in the process.

“i love you lixie, im here for you. you don’t have to worry.”

he only clung onto you tighter after that, mumbling a little “i love you too” and multiple apologies into your chest. you smiled, knowing how vulnerable he was right now, and you were just happy he could trust you. 

“eat your ramen now, it’s getting cold dummy”

he looked up at you and smiled, patting the area next to him. you complied, lowering yourself onto the bed and clinging onto his arm.

the ramen had gone slightly cold, but it was still enjoyable. felix felt a familiar warmth spread throughout his entire being when you wrapped your arms around him, and let himself melt into your warmth. 

you have both been going through a lot recently, but you knew that as long as you had each other, you’d be okay.

<3

#lee felix #lee felix skz #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #lee felix angst #lee felix x reader #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines #lee felix scenarios #stray kids scenarios

[2goldensnitches]

I know the Food Appropriation Discourse only really happens in earnest when it comes to jews but people really need to stop and think how stupid it is to expect that mizrahim and sephardim not eat the food of the countries they’ve lived in for centuries. Should we forbid goys from having bagels in return?

But as an aside, there’s no such thing as a cuisine without outside influence. Modern mexican tacos would not exist without ottoman immigrants refining them. Mexicans eat schnitzel (we call it milanesa) all the time; quesadillas wouldn’t exist without spanish influence. Mexican pastries, like churros (which originated in spain), drinks like beer (mexican beer industry was started by german and czech immigrants), pasties (english and cornish immigrants), they’re all hybrids.

Vanilla, corn, chocolate, and tomatoes (among other things) are from mexico but it’d be monumentally stupid to go after everyone claiming those ingredients as local specialties; no more madagascar vanilla, no swiss chocolate, no more italian tomato based foods?

Let’s try other cuisines: tempura would not exist in japan if it weren’t for the portuguese, and they also wouldn’t have ramen (the name lit means chinese noodles and it’s a 20th century recipe), curry (indian, introduced by british sailors), or all the french desserts promoted as kawaii. Potatoes are peruvian but they play a massive part in indian and european dishes; or all the american dishes whose origins are entirely foreign.

But we don’t actually see people getting mad unless it has to do with jews. They straightforwardly use language and rhetoric painting jews as vultures. American goys readily play into their own ignorance and only think about jews as funny new yorkers from eastern europe they see on tv who eat bagels and bad meat (the demonisation of ashkenazi cuisine also plays a large part); goys from the middle east drop the pretense of having always loved their jewish people to claim that jews who left for israel (which they also don’t want to acknowledge) eating foods like hummus and falafel is thievery.

Nowhere is ignorance and inflamed nationalism more apparent in few discussions like whether jews have the right (the right!) to eat anything at all without once again being attacked for it.

#this is a hill i will die on #antisemitism

[littlenightma]

Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?

Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)

• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.

• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.

• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.

• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.

• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.

• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.

• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.

• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.

• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.

• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…

• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.

• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.

• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.

• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.

• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.

• But maybe not for the worst.

#jeepers creepers x reader #jeepers creepers #jonathan breck #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher community #yandere #jeepers creepers (2003) #slasher headcanons

[sourbinnie]

Can I request a fic Where Hyunjin comes back home to you from the Versace event thingy and he’s just really emotional because he thinks he didn’t do well w his English and outfit n stuff but then you comfort him and promise him that he did great and that you’re proud of him and it’s all cute and fluffy🥹

title -> pieces genre -> hurt/comfort pair -> hyunjin x gn!reader a/n: hope this is what you wanted! thank you sm for the request<3

i knew his flight was delayed and that he wasn't getting here as early as we expected to. i got home from work and decided to make it as comfortable as it was just for him, just so he wouldn't have to worry about anything at all. i was so proud of my boyfriend for making it this big and having a chance to fly out and enjoy a fashion show. i knew his passion for clothes and creating them, it was really exciting that he got this opportunity. it was good publicity not only for the band, but for the fact that the person wearing these clothes was an incredible human being that deserved all the love & praise he was getting. they deserved to know that hwang hyunjin was a magnificent person, just as charming as when i first met him.

even if it was late and i had work in the morning, i decided to stay up and wait for him. i just didn't wanna welcome him home with my sleeping figure and the fact that we were probably not gonna see each other tomorrow morning, just made me want to stay up more. 

the hours passed and it felt like an eternity but i remained strong as yawn after yawn escaped from me. that's when i heard the door to our apartment unlock and i turned off the tv. i got up and smiled as i saw him, he was wearing another outfit (clearly versace again) and he looked as breathtaking as one could be. it took me by surprise when i suddenly felt his arms wrap around me and give me the sweetest of hugs but i responded back fast as i hugged him. my hand going to his hair to rub him and the other one on his cheek to make him look at me.

i knew that expression way too well. he was feeling insecure, about what? i would have to ask. for now we stayed there hugging and looking at each other, mumbling "i love you" and not stopping. that's when i felt a tear drop fall from him and i decided to take him to the couch to sit us down and actually conversate about what was going.

"jinnie, talk to me when you're ready, okay?" i said and he nodded quickly as more tears were escaping his eyes. he grabbed my hands to trace patterns and distract himself but the sadness was clearly overwhelming. i've seen him distraught before, it was nothing new but it concerned me either way. what if he felt this way when he was at the event? in a foreign country? and i could not be there for him. 

it made a feeling in my chest that stung but i held on as i wiped away his tears. i knew he could get emotional and he didn't mind showing his feelings at all but sometimes he wouldn't say what was happening and i was worried it would be one of those days until he finally spoke up.

"too much." he said as he choked back on his sobs and i looked at him again. "it was too much. i don't know how i got through it without making a scene." 

"what do you mean baby?" i asked as i handed him a tissue to wipe the new tears that wouldn't stop. "you didn't feel comfortable in the event?".

"not at all." he said with a broken laugh as his eyes met mine again, reddish and with a deep kind of sadness buried in them. i was starting to realize what was going on, i knew my babe was an introvert, i knew how hard for him was to interact, to be out there, especially in those kinds of shows where you were so exposed. "i felt ridiculous, like i can't even speak english properly and even if they insisted for me to talk in korean, i wanted to prove myself and i failed."

hyunjin wasn't fluent in english, i knew that but he tried his damn hardest and this broke my heart. there was no one that put as much effort and love for the language than him and i wish he would see that but i would let him talk before i ramble too much.

"also the outfit, everyone had the fanciest stuff and i was just standing there. feeling so left out and stupid. god, why did they invite me if i was gonna be humiliated like this?" he exclaimed as i tried to put the pieces together. i didn't notice anyone being extra luxurious on the pictures that i've seen. just lots of people wearing the versace outfits they were offered, maybe he felt like it was too little but i think it was perfect. "i just feel like i'm never enough, i can never be myself and be enough for a place. it was so hard to interact with people (y/n), i don't know what i do wrong."

"nothing." i said clear as water and he looked at me confused. "you might feel like you're failing with your english, with the outfit or the scenery but you really aren't doing anything wrong jinnie".

"i just wished you were there with me." as much as i would love to agree with him, we couldn't be seen due to his contract. but yeah to be by his side and take care of him would be truly a blessing and if it helps him that's what matters.

"babe i know but for now you're probably gonna have to attend more of these. i think you looked beautiful, you always do and it's hard to not look at you when you walk in the room." i said as he blushed and i just smiled 'cause his shyness was just so adorable of him. "i truly mean that, the outfit wasn't extravagant but it fit you and you're not that. you create such a comfortable atmosphere and you have so much love to give that's hard not to fall for you".

"you're just saying that because you have to." he said as he looked down and intertwined his fingers with mine, comfortable touches from his hand to mine as i made him look at me again.

"i'm saying it because it's true." i said firmly and with an honest look in my eyes. "also your english might not be perfect but you can communicate well and people understand what you say baby. you have a really sweet way with words and everyone was mesmerized by it." 

"do i?" he said and i could see in his eyes he was starting to believe me.

"you do! it's really beautiful how you talk." i said smiling as i thought about the many times he studied english and asked felix or chan for advice. "overall and for real, i am proud of you. proud of how far you've come and how much you're gonna show to the world. proud of the effort you put it in for a language that's not your own. proud of the representation you're giving. i am so happy that you get to do these things so people can see you and see the man i fell in love with."

he was again teary eyed but i was hoping it was happy ones instead of cruel & sad ones. i could feel another hug coming in as i held him. he whispered "thank you" so many times that his voice got hoarse from all the crying and the repeating. i just held him in my arms and kissed his forehead. 

"you're the best significant other i could ask for." he said and i just smiled.

"that's you jinnie." i responded as i gave him a little peck. "let's go to bed yeah? it's been a long day for you."

#sourbinnie #skz drabbles #skz short imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz hyunjin #skz angst #skz imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x you #skz hurt/comfort

[shimamitsu]

let's learn about spanish with haikyuu!

if you’re an argentinian animanga fan, you might have seen this image before. this is a panel from ivrea’s edition of haikyuu which has gone viral a few times in our country. if you’re not a native spanish speaker and you’re interested in knowing what makes this panel so special, i got you!

as you know, spanish has many different dialects and their own regional variations. and when i say many, i mean it. here’s a list of dialects you can find in the americas only (and that’s not even all of them). of course, spanish speakers from different countries can understand each other, but these dialects vary so much from one another when it comes to slang, pronunciation, accent and even grammar that we can easily get lost when we hear fellow hispanics speak. back in the 20th century, this was a problem for foreign companies that wanted to enter the hispanic market. making dozens of different translations that catered to each hispanic country was too expensive, so they came up with a more profitable solution: they created español neutro (neutral spanish), español internacional (international spanish) or standard spanish. this type of spanish is an artificial variation of spanish used exclusively for commercial purposes. it's limited to latin american only, while peninsular spanish speakers (the standard spanish dialect spoken in spain) have their own standardized version.

español neutro is supposed to be a variation of spanish that speakers can’t associate to any specific place or region. that’s why it omits any type of slang, colloquial language or intonation that might be confusing for its audience (though it’s modeled after standardized mexican spanish). that’s the spanish we’ve seen in many books, tv shows, movies and games growing up. people don’t actually speak español neutro. but it's been around for a long time, so we're used to it by now. obviously, we can recognize why this type of spanish feels unfamiliar to us. imitating how characters speak in tv shows is even an on-going joke here. 

(disclaimer before i go on: i don’t want you to think our dubs are bad because of this, they’re great. though i’d say our most beloved dubs are the ones where voice actors have more freedom and they choose to include slang and intonation. the dub for adventure time’s jake the dog is an all time favorite here in latin america, but after five years of giving life to to jake, cartoon network told his voice actor to stop using “mexicanisms” and stick to the script.)

as i said, we’re used to it. maybe too much. people are so accustomed to it that they find it weird when they read or watch localized media in their own dialects of spanish. that's where manga comes in. the two biggest argentinian manga publishers, ivrea and panini, localize their works. they’re translated to español rioplatense or rioplatense spanish, which is the standard dialect of argentina and uruguay. that’s a rare translation choice. and, of course, people complain about it. they say it's vulgar or too informal, that it's not "pure spanish" like español neutro or that it just makes them uncomfortable, and even more.

[translation of the post: Why does IVREA use so many localisms? It ruins the immersion and they seem excessively forced, you can use "girl" instead and it sounds much more natural.]

i can assure you that denji saying power es buena mina is extremely natural. it's slang, we say that all the time in everyday conversation. es buen pibe (he's a good guy) and es buena mina (she's a good girl) are common expressions. besides, denji's not the type of guy who speaks formally. this choice goes well with the tone of the work. the only difference between chica and mina is that the latter comes from lunfardo, which was the jargon of the lower classes in buenos aires in the late 19th/early 20th century. lunfardo was influenced by european, african and indigenous languages, integrating words and phrases from all of them. over time, it became part of our own vernacular, and many of its words and phrases are used now in everyday language, regardless of class. if you ever heard argentinian words like laburar, chamuyar, pibe, boludo, facha, etc., those are lunfardo.

so, let’s get back to manga. personally, i love these translations, and a lot of other people enjoy them as well. what some consider unfamiliar or weird, others consider refreshing and fun. the panel i used to introduce this post is a great example of rioplatense localization in manga. in this scene, hinata and kageyama ask tsukishima to help them study and he refuses. in the original japanese, hinata calls tsukishima kechishima (kechi: stingy + [tsuki]shima). the official english translates it to "stupishima" (though i should add that "stingyshima" is the more popular nickname, popularized by the official anime eng sub).

ivrea’s translation does the same pun here, but instead of using spanish equivalents like tacaño, mezquino, egoísta (or even more colloquial language like agarrado o amarrete), it chooses the word ortiva/ortiba. 

ortiba is also lunfardo. this word is the result of reversing the order of the syllables in batidor (whisk). this word formation mechanism is called vesre (revés: reverse). it’s similar to back slang in english. this is extremely common in argentina. some popular examples of vesre are garpar (pagar: to pay), jermu (mujer: woman), garcar (cagar: to cheat, to swindle). here’s an example of vesre in dorohedoro:

sopermi = permiso (excuse me)

the term ortiba was originally used to refer to informers that worked for the police, snitches. nowadays, that meaning mostly fell into disuse. it’s more common to use ortiba for people who usually refuse to take part in certain activities or plans (which has some similarity to its original meaning, someone that betrays their peers). you can also be called ortiba if you’re someone grumpy or someone who doesn’t let other people enjoy themselves. there’s not really an agreement on the spelling, people use both ortiba and ortiva interchangeably. it can also be used as a verb (no te ortives). i think buzzkill, spoilsport, killjoy or party pooper are english nouns that are similar in meaning. let’s give an example:

rioplatense spanish:

a: ¿te pinta salir hoy?

b: no, ni ahí.

a: fua, qué ortiba.

english:

a: feel like going out today?

b: no, no way.

b: wow, what a buzzkill.

so, you probably get the gist of that haikyuu panel now. hinata is calling tsukishima un ortiva because he doesn’t want to help them with their studies, and suggests they should call him ortishima. i fear this will only be funny to you if you’re argentinian, but at least you learned something new about spanish today! yippee!

#like and subscribe to my channel if you wanna see more argentinisms in manga #balling

[bitterpotionn]

What will Johnny do if reader gave him the silent treatment?

I think at first, Johnny wouldn’t even care enough to notice. After all, he’s used to your short responses. But after a while, I think it would really start to bother him.

Like when he would come back to the camper and try to tell you about this day, you would just completely ignore him. Usually, you'd nod along and even ask him some questions but this time, nothing.

He never noticed how much he cherished your little quirks until you stopped doing them. Like how you would tug on his shirt to get his attention or try to hide your laugh at his mean-spirited jokes. When you stopped it felt like a part of him was ripped out.

At first, Johnny would try to force it out of you. He would yell at you or shove you around, screaming at you to just talk to him. He would try to fuck it out of you. If that didn't work, Johnny would go the complete opposite way.

In an unlikely act of kindness, Johnny would go easier on you. Almost trying to lure you out of your shell that you've been hiding in. Soft touches and kisses. Kind words and walks in the sunflower field are just some of the ways Johnny would try to soften you up.

Don't expect this softness to last, once you finally start talking to him again he would quickly revert back to his old ways. I don't think Johnny will ever truly change.

You could feel Johnny's cold gaze on you. Despite you both sitting on the same couch, you felt miles away. It's been 4 days since you last spoke to Johnny. At first, he didn't even notice the silent treatment. He had quite a mouth on him and your silence didn't seem to break his stride. It was only after a day he noticed, and when he noticed he was pissed.

He yelled at you until he was red in the face, shoving you around, pinning you against the wall. He was almost begging when he told you to talk to him. He missed you. He missed your voice, your laugh, your cry. When you didn't give him any sort of reaction, even after he threatened you, it felt like a punch in the gut.

So here Johnny was, awkwardly sitting next to you. His body language matched that of a teenager sitting next to a girl he liked. Johnny was never the kind to feel awkward or unsure of himself, but you were making him feel like a nervous teenager again. Like, any move he would make would break you even further.

You sat motionless, hands in your lap, staring at the old black and white TV as some show played at a low volume. You were certainly aware of Johnny's gaze. You could feel it, you always did. His leg bounced nervously up and down as he shifted his eyes between you and the TV.

With the pace of a snail, Johnny reached out his hand, slowly inching it towards your lap. With wide eyes, you looked over at him. Johnny almost jumped when your head turned, his eyes quickly shifting towards yours. "Just wanna hold your hand, darlin'." his deep voice broke the steady silence of the room. His rough hand grabbed your soft one. You didn't put up any fight, you let him hold your hand.

After a while of some awkward hand-holding, Johnny decided to put his next step into action. He scooted towards you and bit down on his lip, studying your every reaction. When he felt that the time was right, Johnny wrapped a scarred arm around your middle, pulling you into his chest.

You gasped at this, it's been a while since Johnny held you like this. The feeling was foreign as he readjusted you against his chest. Your hands were resting in his lap, quickly noticing this you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him as well.

Johnny hoped you couldn't hear how fast his heartbeat was. The feel of your arms around him made him go crazy. He felt like he was actually making some progress with you.

“I’m-I’m sorry darlin’, for whatever I did,” his voice was almost a whisper, his tone was unsure. You slowly turned your head to him a look of shock in your eyes, he’s never said sorry to you before; you didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t say much either. Only pulled you closer to his chest, holding you like you’d just disappear any second. Johnny was never soft like this, the silent treatment made him realize how much he actually depended on you.

You felt pity for him, for once. You knew what a terrible man he was yet, here you were wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him down to your chest as he cuddled into you. He breathed in your scent deeply as he nuzzled into your chest. There was nothing sexual about it, he just wanted your comfort.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. The sun was setting on the flat horizon and the room grew dark. Johnny slowly stood, scooping you up in his arms. He led you to your shared room and gently laid you on the bed. He stripped off his boots and clothes as he crawled in next to you.

His toned arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his bare chest. His head snuggled into your shoulder. “I miss you,” his voice was muffled. You held his hands and pulled them close to your chest. “I missed you too,” you said, closing your eyes.

#johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm game #tcm #tcm game #johnny slaughter x reader #bitterpotionnheadcanons #this is so fluffy I might throw up

[the1975attheirverybest]

Being Funny In A Foreign Language

Chapter 8- Sorry Bout The Bomb Thing….

A/N: okay so wax play will be in the next chapter cuz plot reasons. Two more chapters to go!

Warnings: kinky smut.

———

Matty’s ears rung with a persistent pressure and the faint echoes of last night’s live show. He could still hear the crowds cheering, calling out his name; remnants of Waugh’s saxophone honking, muffled, as though filled with water, played in the background of his mind. This was a soundscape that Matty had grown accustomed to– welcomed, even– but in the solitary confinement of his hotel bedroom, he found it unnerving. Trapped him in a liminal space between the stage and reality.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the dining table to resume his idle scrolling.

Not Matty Healy trying to justify his white savior complex with a rant onstage…Lmao, homie didn’t even make sense half the time.

Matty Healy playing the victim talking about almost getting imprisoned in Malaysia. What else do you expect when you disrespect their culture? A colonizer thank you card?

MH just tryna cover up the fact that Malaysia was a temper tantrum over TS

Matty felt the bile in his stomach rise back up; his chest tightening; his vision blurring. He couldn’t bring himself to click on the ‘news’ articles that he was tagged in– their titles containing his name– and find out what industry professionals had to say about this whole thing, so he changed to his messages instead.

Matty:

hey

in town for msg soon

you around?

Lilly

Yeah! For a couple days anyway… wanna come over for a drink sometime?

Matty

Are you free right now?

****

Matty watched, proudly, as Lilly’s legs twitched around his arm. Judging by the fact that he’d rendered her breathless, he was pretty satisfied that he’d done his job right. He pulled his fingers out of her and brought them to his lips for a taste, sucking wetly. She reached out, lazily grabbing at his shirt in an effort to pull him closer.

“Your turn now.” she whispered, before pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

Though Matty had been receptive to her touch, responding to the kiss with eager lips, his mind raced with panic. He couldn’t feel anything. And not just below the belt, he just wasn’t excited at all. Why wasn’t he excited? Is there something wrong with his body? Is he physically ill? Is he gradually losing all of his drive?

Lily unbuttoned his jeans and Matty wondered how he’d found himself in this same situation with two different women. His body stiffened, he attempted to reach for her hands, but it was too late.

“Oh.” Lily looked down at his lap then back at him. “I- sorry. I didn’t realize that…you didn’t wanna- ummm. I’d just assumed you wanted to have sex. Cuz, you asked to come over and-“

“I did! I do! I want to….i just might- need a minute?” His eyes darted around the room as he spoke.

Lily smiled, “oh, alright. I can help you relax.”

Her hands roamed his body, running her fingers down his chest, sensually, before deciding to undress him. Matty closed his eyes, laying down and attempting to focus on the present moment. Despite his (and lily’s) best efforts, though, he couldn’t get out of his own head.

“Still nothing, huh?” Lily had asked when she’d finally kissed her way down his body. Something, she’d assumed, would’ve given him enough time to get into the right mood.

“I mean, hey, if you’re not in the mood, it’s no problem, really! We could just watch tv-“

“No! No, no. I am in the mood. Erm, but could I ask you to do something- I mean…can we try something different?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

Matty pointed to his discarded jeans. “Do you see my belt over there?”

***

“Are you sure it won’t be a problem? You’re already pretty bruised.”

Matty flipped over onto his back, briefly, to assure her one last time. “Those bruises are old now. They look more dramatic than they feel, I promise.”

She shrugged. “If you say so…alright. Ready?”

Matty closed his eyes, burying his face into the bedding as pain rained down on him. He tried to conjure up memories of the last time that someone had whipped him bloody, thinking back to Amelia. His hand reached between his body and the duvet, grabbing himself and trying not to call out another woman’s name in Lily’s presence.

***

Matty stared up at the ceiling fan as it rotated, on low mode, and tried to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that Lily had approached him with a glass of water, but he hadn’t yet regain full control of his body again. He couldn’t will himself to move. She didn’t seem to mind, though. Happy to accommodate him, she sat on the bed next to him, arranging a wall of pillows to prop him on. “Can you sit up for me?”

The question, surprisingly, made him nervous. He snapped out of his ceiling-fan-induced hypnosis and quickly jolted, sitting up before she could lend him a hand.

“Yeah, yeah….thanks.” He accepted the glass of water, gulping it down. “Sorry.” He mumbled, leaning over her to set the now empty glass down onto the nightstand.

“What for?”

He shrugged. “Don’ know.”

“What’s going on with you?” Lily placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and it took everything in him not to brush it off.

“Nothin’s goin’ on. Just…tired. And- I— think I need a cig. And a glass of wine or something.”

She laughed, shaking her head and shuffling off the bed once more. “Coming right up. And then you’ll tell me what’s really going on cuz that wasn’t what I was asking about.”

***

“So…” Lily exhaled the smoke out of her lungs, putting the end of her cigarette out in the ashtray between them. “Let me get this straight…you’re in love with her, but she’s with someone else?”

Matty blushed, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

“She offered to break up with the guy. But you made friends with him. And now you like him too much. So you gave up your guitar — which was like the equivalent of half your soul— just so he can surprise her and take credit for the surprise?”

Matty took a large sip of his drink just to have something else to focus on.

“Oh, and also you guys are sleeping together because one time your dick didn’t work and you cried about it in front of her. Am I getting this right?”

Matty’s eyes evaded her, smiling in embarrassment, “that’s…the gist of it, yeah.”

“Okay, I’m glad I got it right cuz,” she picked up a pillow, throwing it at his face, narrowly missing her target, “what the fuck is wrong with you, dude?!!! Why are you even here? In my bed instead of hers??”

“Oh, so you want me to leave, then? Fine, I’ll leave.” Matty attempted to move but she instantly grabbed his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere….and what do your friends think about your genius behavior?”

“Who? the boys? Well…..they’ve all given different versions of, like, ‘you either tell her how you feel or you move on’ sort of.”

“And you’ve done neither.”

Matty nodded.

“Instead, you guys are sleeping together.”

Lily fell silent. She refilled her glass first, then she topped off Matty’s as well.

“I can see that you’re dying to say something.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “Out with it!”

“You’re just so dumb.” Lily smiled. “Men are so dumb. Speaking of men…..have you seen a doctor about your….’bedroom issues’ ?”

“Mhm”

“And?”

“Well, I haven’t called about test results. So, I don’t know.”

“Matty-“

“I know, I know….”

Matty’s heart raced, his face felt warm; he blamed it on the wine. Spoke again before he could stop himself. “It’s just….i think I know what they’re gonna say.”

“The results?”

“It’s all in my head. It’s…it’s stress or psychological or whatever the fuck.” He sighed. “I mean, not to be that guy, but look at me. I’m the picture of health. I got that shit under control for tour and stuff-“

“I have noticed the, shall we say, ‘fitness level’ ?”

“Lily, are you flirting with m-“

“No. Don’t- change the subject!”

Matty chuckled. “Not changin’ anything. I’m just- I know that it’s my state of mind. I haven’t been….well- I haven’t been myself.”

Lily snatched the wine glass out of his hand, setting both of their drinks, and the bottle, aside to get his full attention. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”

“I-“

“Besides ignoring it completely, I mean.”

Matty shrugged.

“Have you been to therapy? Have you….seen a psychiatrist?” She watched the look on his face. “Don’t! Don’t you roll your eyes at me. Don’t do that. That’s what guys do. It’s so childish!”

Matty had been determined to ignore her remarks until he heard the word ‘childish.’ Now, he was invested. “What the fuck do you mean ‘childish’? Just cuz I don’t need everything that’s ever made me an individual to be pathologized and medicated, doesn’t mean I’m being childish.”

Lily had had this conversation too many times before. She’d lost count of how many men get offended by their own flaws. She was over doing the gentle thing, holding their hand, and walking them through the thought process to help them come to the realization on their own. “Has it ever occurred to you that, oh- I don’t know- that maybe .your new show, your repressed love, all of the self punishment, and all that is just because you’d rather be dramatic and theatrical and do a huge arena tour than say how you feel?”

“You underestimate me, Lillian.”

“My name is Elizabeth.” She giggled.

“What?” Matty’s eyebrows shot up. “No fuckin way. ‘Lily’ is short for Elizabeth?”

“Yeah it’s mostly that I think ‘Elizabeth’makes me sound like a 76 year old widow.”

***

Amelia bit her lower lip smiling at Matty from across the room. He knew what that sly look meant.

“Come with me.” Giggling as she led them towards the storage room in the back of the venue.

Matty liked giving her complete control, doing as she says, being a mess at her feet. He relished in the opportunity.

“Whe-where would you like me this time?”

“Just stay standing.” Amelia surveyed the cramped room full of boxes for a moment, “you can lean against the wall if you need it this time.”

Reminding him of the last time that she’d sucked him off in the party bathroom, causing him to fall to his knees.

“Thank you.” He squeaked. He was already slipping into submission. Already pliant and malleable for her.

“Lose the clothes.” She demanded.

“A-all the way?”

“Yes. And hurry. Tobias will probably be looking for us soon.”

Matty stumbled as he kicked off his shoes, and rushed to peel his jeans off, aware of her eyes on him.

“Matty? Turn around for me, would you?”

His heart sank, dreading what was about to happen. Reluctantly, he did as she’d asked and turned all the way in a circle.

“These marks….they look fresh. What- when-“

“I- have to tell you something.” He pulled his pants back up, wincing as the fabric brushed his bum. “I- erm, I broke one of the rules.”

Amelia already knew where this was going. “Which one?”

“I- I had an orgasm- without your permission.” Matty looked down at the floor as he spoke. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his mouth felt dry.

Amelia’s face remained unreadable. “When?”

“La- last night.” He wished the earth under his feet could split and swallow him whole.

“Is that what those marks are from?”

He nodded slowly.

“They look pretty bad, have you looked after yourself? Disinfected the places with deeper cuts and-“

“No. I… I sort of, erm, stayed the night at her place and then came straight here. Haven’t had a chance to do anything.”

“She did this to you and then left you there? No aftercare?”

“No, no! Don’t say that! She’s not like that! She tried- but, erm, I wouldn’t let her.”

Amelia didn’t like the tightening in her chest that she felt as she listened to Matty defend another woman. She couldn’t quite figure out what she felt, but she had bigger, more important concerns at this moment.

“There’s a first aid kit in the tour bus bathroom, right?” Her face and tone unchanged, withholding.

Matty nodded.

“Let’s go then.”

***

Amelia gathered her supplies and set them on the bed in Matty’s tour bus bedroom. “Right then. Drop your pants and turn around.”

“I can do this myself, you know.”

“I didn’t ask. Turn around, Matty, c’mon.”

Not wanting to defy her any more than he already has, Matty complied. Amelia used her most delicate touch throughout. Slow and gentle, careful not to cause him any unnecessary pain, and pausing multiple times when she felt her hand falter. Matty pressed his lips together tightly, swallowing any and all whimpers or expressions of pain. He didn’t want her to feel bad. Not when she’s going out of her way to take care of him.

“Who is she?” Amelia heard herself ask.

“Just- ah! Shit…” he let out a groan as the antiseptic touched an open wound. “Just a friend I see whenever I’m in New York.”

“Do I know her?”

“N-no. She, erm….you two have never met.”

Amelia l withdrew for a moment as a sharp sting of jealousy washed over her. She didn’t know what she was most upset by, the fact that he slept with another woman, the fact that he’d let another woman hurt him — given her control

Over his body, trusting her to do what he needed— or the fact that she’d made him cum and got to see his beautiful, vulnerable body experiencing pleasure. Amelia was well aware that she had no right to be upset here. After all, she has a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be fair to expect Matty not to date or see anyone else while she carried on with her life. Still, she felt an unsettling ownership over him. And, she was now learning that she did not like to share.

She resumed her disinfecting, accidentally heavy-handedly, and saw Matty’s whole body flinch, a whimper of pain escaped him despite his best efforts to remain quiet.

“S-sorry.” He mumbled.

To his surprise, Amelia ran a gentle hand down his leg, attempting to comfort him.

“I know it hurts. It’s okay. Promise we’re almost done, alright?”

“Thank you.”

She smiled “let me know if you need me to stop, yeah? We can take a little break if you need it.”

Her words brought tears to his eyes.

“You’re mad at me.” Matty simply stated. “You’re mad at me. I broke the rules and you’re upset with me.”

He heard her unpack the bandages in silence.

“I’m gonna be punished for this, right?” He asked when she wouldn’t speak.

“I don’t know yet.” She pulled his clothes back on for him, delicately, making sure the waistband doesn’t come into contact with any of his sensitive injuries along the way.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what? Sleep with someone else? Why not? I do it!” She turned away from him, contemplating leaving the bus.

“Should’ve at least told you. Or asked you for permission. I- I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t bring herself to walk out on him. She sighed, turning back around. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Let me decide on my own. Now, since you didn’t get any aftercare, are you feeling okay? Do you need anything? If you’re experiencing any sub-“

“I’m okay. I promise. I’m perfectly fine. And I’m so sorry.”

Amelia stood there, frustrated, her head spinning, not quite knowing how to feel, or how she should feel.

“Would it - be okay if I hugged you?” Matty asked, his eyes pleading with her.

He took the small smile on her face as a yes and rushed to cling to her.

“You’re just so…” she felt speechless, wrapping her arms around him.

“I know, I know. I’m the fuckin worst.”

***

Several days, and tour stops, went by without Matty and Amelia crossing paths. She still attended every show, watching him come to life onstage every night to perform for his audience. Often getting caught in a moment with someone in the crowd, crying or laughing with them. Always, without fail, having the boys behind him. Even on his worst days, Matty always gave his job everything that he could. That much was guaranteed. It was off-stage Matty that troubled her. And troubled him. So, while they both did their jobs, attended meetings, carried on with business as usual, she hadn’t found herself knocking at his door late at night in quite some time.

Matty laid in bed late at night, still waiting, hoping tonight would be the night that she’d come back to him. As more and more nights went by with his hopes still unfulfilled, he would fall asleep thinking about Lily’s suggestion —or accusation, really — that he wasn’t channeling or processing his feelings with work, but repressing them. He wondered if his night with Lily fell into the same category. He wondered why he’d even gone over there at all. He would give anything to undo it. To have Amelia back in his bed.

Struggling to fall asleep, he decided to go down to the hotel lobby, get a drink, and if his brain was still functioning, perhaps do some work. He grabbed his leather jacket out of the closet on his way out, patting his pockets to check that he had his room card and cigarettes before leaving. When Matty opened the door, he found Amelia, standing there, looking up at him.

“Amelia!” He could burst with joy. “You’re here!”

She looked behind her, to make sure nobody could see them, then rushed into his room.

“Amelia, I- I have wanted to apologize, but I just can’t find the words to-“

She placed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I didn’t come here to talk, I came here so you’d get me off, so shut up and get on your knees.”

Matty wasn’t sure if that meant that she’d forgiven him or not, but he wasted no time in doing as he told. Eager to please her, and to show, if not tell, her how sorry he is.

***

A content Amelia reached between her thighs, grabbing Matty by the roots of his hair and pulling his head back, away from her cunt. She was still slightly out of breath from the orgasm that his mouth had given her and she enjoyed seeing his lips and chin glisten too.

“Look at me.” She commanded.

Matty’s eyes instantly met hers, his gaze unsure, humble.

“There’s my good whore.” She smiled, “it’s what you are, isn’t it? A whore? That’s what they call someone who’s happy to be spanked with his own built by just about anybody. Isn’t that right?”

Matty panicked, his thoughts racing. No! That’s not right! It’s much more complicated than that. Besides, it’s not like it was all the same to him. What he feels with her is different. Much more intimate. With Lilly, it was just sex. An attempt to prove to himself and his body that he could still feel it with other people. He learned the opposite of what he’d hoped to learn from sleeping with someone else. But he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to defend himself. Besides, she said she wasn’t interested in discussing this, and he didn’t want to risk her leaving again.

“Y-yeah. I am a whore.” It pained him to say. “Your whore.”

She let go of his hair, but he stayed in place.

“Oh don’t play that game with me, Matty.” She scuffed. “I bet you say that to all the women who force you to submit to them.”

Briefly, he considered prostrating himself on the floor and begging her to believe him. To accept his apology. But before he could throw himself on the floor, she’d reached into his underwear and pulled out his half-hardened cock.

He gasped, feeling her wrap her hand around his length, and squeeze, ever so slightly. His eyes fluttered shut, his jaw slack.

Amelia leaned forward and spat, using her own saliva as lube, she quickened her pace, pleased to see his arousal grow.

“Tell me something, Matty.” She spoke, still stroking him. “Did she jerk you off too? Hmm?”

“Wha-what?” His eyes shot open.

“The girl you slept with. You let her take control; what else did you give her? Did she suck you off? Did she fuck you? Did you fuck her?”

Matty struggled to remain focused, his self control was all dedicated to not cuming before she allowed him to. “What- no, no. I - promise- none of that….fuck, Amelia, you’re gonna make me— I didn’t— she didn’t. No fucking… nothing happened… ah, darling, please believe me- fuckkk I’m so close!”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

“I- promise… Amelia. Please, Angel, may I come?”

“No.”

“I- promise. No matter what. No- ohhh shit- matter…who I’m with or not….you call and I’ll come runnin.’ You’ve got me. You- please!!!- can have me whenever you want.”

“You wanna cum?”

“So, so bad. Please darling may I?”

“Go for it.” Amelia instantly took her hand away, leaving him with a ruined orgasm.

She left him to writhe on the floor, listening to him cry out and beg, as she got dressed. “That’s for cumming without my permission.”

Barely coherent, Matty nodded. “Thank- you, for my punishment.” His legs still twitching.

“Oh, you think that was the end of your punishment? Sweet boy; I’ve barely started.”

As she made her way out of his room, Amelia wondered if what she’d done crossed a line. Was she hurting him with malice? Laying hands on him in anger? He always told her that was the basic rule of dominance and submission. You never do it out of aggression. She wasn’t entirely sure if what she’d put him through was for his sake or out of jealousy. Deep down, a piece of her was still upset with him for sleeping with someone else. She hated that.

***

Amelia pushed him into the supply closet, wasting no time in crashing her lips against his.

“You heard back from the doctors yet?”

He shook his head.

“Cuz you’re already hard for me. You’re an anomaly.”

Matty chuckled. “fuckin tell me about it.”

His eyes shot wide open, his lips stifling a gasp as he felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock. “Remind me again what we’re doing?”

“Puh- pun- punishment. For me.” He managed between pants.

“And why is that?” She changed up the rhythm, grinning when the surprise made him jolt.

“Cuz- I- didn’t- i broke the rules. Let myself have an orgasm without your permission.”

Matty felt his knees begin to buckle. He pushed his head back, leaning against the wall for support. Amelia thought the look of his throat slightly bobbing as he swallowed harshly was the most mesmerizing thing she’d ever seen.

“That’s right.” She snapped out of her hypnotic state “you get edged. Everyday. And you have no idea when I’m going to let you cum. All you can do is beg. While you take it.”

“Please, darling, I- may I cum?” His droopy eyes struggled to remain fixed on her, but he tried his best, he wanted her to see the need in his eyes and to know that he was being genuine when he said that he really, really needed it.

Amelia’s free hand tugged on his balls, slightly, the sudden sensation making him moan and lurch forward. “Fuuuckk!!”

Matty’s knees buckled, he crumbled to the floor, but, rather than give him a break, Amelia simply crouched down in front of him, continuing to edge him. She circled his pre-cum covered tip, admiring the way that his hips bucked desperately.

“Please- please, please, my love. I- need it, Amelia- I’m so, so close…”

She smiled to herself. She knew he was desperate, but enough to pull out ‘my love?’ He was so adorable when he relinquished control.

“You better hold it. You understand?” She changed up her rhythm.

“Ahhh! Fuck!” He cried out. “I- I will, I’m trying.”

“Hush! You’re being too loud. We’re gonna get caught.” She wrapped her hand around his neck, tightening her grip in an attempt to silence him, it was the last push that Matty needed to get him over the edge.

He panicked, trying desperately to warn her, but his voice only a mere squeal as she choked him, he thrashed helplessly, using every ounce of self restraint left in his exhausted and overstimulated body to keep from cumming. Luckily, Amelia had learned his body’s cues well enough by now. She knew he’d reached his peak and she let go before he could lose control loosening her hold on his throat as well.

His rock- hard cock twitched against his stomach, the blood rushing through his veins, his entire body felt sensitive, from head to toe, the pain of a ruined orgasm almost unbearable. He mewled softly, his naked thighs trembling, tears welling his eyes.

“Awww, Matty.” Amelia couldn’t fight the urge to comfort him, feeling a bit too guilty for denying him yet another release. Her hand cupped his face. She was a bit worried when he flinched.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Matty nodded. Unable to speak. Still fighting for breath.

She settled next to him on the floor. Pulling him into her side, her arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“You good?” She asked once his breathing had finally evened out.

“Yeah.” He smiled, tiredly.

“Was that….too much?”

Matty shook his head.

“I didn’t wanna go too hard on you. Cuz we’ve got to get back to work soon. We can’t have you being a mess right now…but, your eyes- you look a bit gone.”

Matty’s body shook against hers as he laughed silently. “It’s just what human eyes look like at arousal. I’m fine.”

“Let’s get you dressed.” She mumbled, reaching for his clothes and helping to button up his shirt over his chest.

Matty’s clammy hands struggled with the waistband of his briefs.

“I’ve got it, it’s okay. I’ll hold it for you.” She lent him a hand. “Got your shoes? Good. Let’s go.”

“Think I just need a minute. You go. I’ll be right behind you in a bit.” He smiled up at her hugging his knees.

“What? No. I’ll wait with you.”

“I’m okay, Amelia. I promise. I just need a minute to come down and collect myself.”

“Well.” She sat back down by his side. “Take your time. I’ll just keep you company.” He took his hand in hers, squeezing it and laying it in her lap.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” He kissed her cheek.

They sat in silence for a moment. Matty soon felt impatient and pulled out his phone.

“Memes already?” Amelia shook her head, “you’re the most unserious man I’ve ever met.”

“I- just- need something to distract me while I come down from all of this” he gestured, loosely, towards the marks she’d left all over his body. “You know I can’t sit still.”

She smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. His skin was hot, red, and he was still shaky.

“Wanna see some funny stuff?” He moved the screen to be in between them.

“Okay, but no minions. Only YOU find those funny.”

As they scrolled through, alternating between Twitter and Instagram, and giggling, they slowly found themselves stumbling over the wrong side of the internet. First, it was,

Matty Healy is ugly, racist, sexist, oh and did I mention ugly?

Then,

Matty Healy needs to stop speaking over marginalized people with his white guy “trying to help” energy. It’s giving colonialism.

Amelia rolled her eyes, interfering to scroll past, when Matty had paused to check the reply thread. But, soon enough, they stumbled upon,

The drugs that mh used to be on must have melted his brain cuz wtf is this?

“I suppose that’s enough screen time.” Matty chuckled, setting the phone down in his lap.

“Matty…”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. And that’s okay-“

“I don’t care. Whatever.”

Amelia looked down at his lap, the phone screen getting progressively dimmer. She grinned when a thought crossed her mind and picked up his phone.

“Amelia?”

Matty watched her thumbs move as she tapped the keyboard, seemingly typing something.

Matty Healy is ugly, racist, sexist, oh and did I mention ugly?

I’d make like your receding hairline and back away if I were you. You’re in no position to speak.

She smiled, satisfied, and scrolled on.

Matty Healy needs to stop speaking over marginalized people with his white you trying to help energy. It’s giving colonialism.

At least he’s helping. What’re YOU doing? Besides being an idiot on the internet, I mean.

“Jesus Christ, Amelia!” Matty attempted to claw the phone out of her grip, but she simply scooted away. “Amelia; stop!”

“What? This is a burner account right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point!”

She wasn’t paying attention long enough for him to make his point, she’d gone back to typing.

Here, I’ve linked the definition of colonialism for you. Maybe your Twitter brain rot will actually teach you a new word today!

The drugs that mh used to be on must have melted his brain cuz wtf is this?

Using someone’s addiction against them? Not very woke activist progressive brave of you, is it? He could outsmart you in his sleep, btw. Don’t worry about his brain. Worry about yours.

“Alright that’s enough clapping back for you, give me that phone.”

“But I’m having fun!”

It occurred to Matty that he’s much stronger, and larger, than she is. So he hovered over her, doing his best to appear intimidating. But looking into her eyes always made him weak.

“Give me that phone, Amelia.”

“Make me.”

“Alright, but you’re gonna be sorry you asked for it.”

***

Their rendezvous continued for a few more weeks. They found themselves fallen into a routine. One suggestive look, or nod, was enough to signal that it’s time to surreptitiously leave, and meet someplace private. There wasn’t a position of surface that Amelia hadn’t tried to bend Matty over, or prop him on. He was never allowed to touch. Neither himself nor her as she worked him up, bringing him to the brink of an orgasm, only to pull away when he most needed her. She’d sucked him off on her knees, taken to riding him to get herself off, and on one occasion, even tried a vibrator on the tip of his cock to keep him stimulated while tied up.

It seemed to work. At least as long as she watched him cry and beg for her, she felt certain that she had a hold on him. That she could prove it to herself. Not only that, but Matty was making progress on most days. He still had his setbacks and moments of frustration. And he would get punished for those, firmly. But he did his best to remain on track. Getting back to his routines and even attempting to eat properly. So, for all intents and purposes, this system of theirs, seemed to serve its purpose. That is, until, backstage in his dressing room, Amelia had accidentally pushed him too far.

Matty looked down at his own lap, pent up frustration bubbling within his chest. He felt his eyes sting with tears, his hazy brain, already struggling to find its bearings, began to spin. He sat back down on the couch that he and Amelia had just been lying on, his warm, naked body sticking to the leather.

“I- made a mess.” He announced, his voice filled with emotion. “I- swear I didn’t feel good. Really! But I- I couldn’t stop fast enough” He felt ridiculous for tearing up. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Amelia turned around, concerned, not so much by what he said, but by how he’d sounded when he said it.

“Oh.” Amelia smiled, at the sight of cum dripping down his stiff dick. “Did you spill over a little bit.” She giggled.

Matty nodded, frowning.

“It’s alright. We’ll get you cleaned up. There’s a shower at the end of the hall, yeah?”

Matty didn’t seem to be listening. “I- promise I felt nothing. It didn’t feel good or anything- I still hurt. I promise. Really. Honest!”

To demonstrate how obvious it was, Amelia swiped her finger over his tip, watching him wince and shudder . “Yeah, I see that.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Matty. It was an accident. And it doesn’t count as a real orgasm, you didn’t get any pleasure or release out of it, so.”

When she glanced at him and saw his face, her attitude changed. “Oh, babe. You’re really upset about this, aren’t you?”

“Sorry. It’s really dumb. I just- I wanna be good. I wanna do as you tell me to.”

“You are, Matty! You’re so good. You take your punishment really well. It’s been - well, weeks. I mean, when’s the last time that you were edged like that without an orgasm at all?”

“N-never.”

“Exactly. Frankly, I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long. I haven’t exactly made it easy on you. You get what I’m saying?” She smiled at him but she could tell that he wasn’t persuaded. “Okay, why dont we wait a bit. You’ll take some deep breaths. calm down. Then we’ll go take a shower, yeah?”

Though Amelia had done and said everything to comfort him, Matty still had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he’d fucked up. He’d nearly lost control, a difference of seconds could’ve made him a failure. His entire body felt out of control. He couldn’t get a grip all day. And it was obvious. To Amelia, at least. He wasn’t his usual, adrenalin-fueled ball of energy when working, he wasn’t making as many jokes or engaged in conversation. He moved slower, stumbled over his words more, and seemed anxious and afraid of everything.

Doing her best not to draw any attention to this change in his demeanor, Amelia tried all the subtle ways that she could think of comforting him. She remained close by, throughout the day, sitting next to him whenever possible, resting a hand on his back, bringing him food and water to make sure he wasn’t skipping any meals. She wasn’t sure if Matty had registered her attempts or understood that they were meant to reassure him, but she did it as much for her own peace of mind as for his. She hated knowing that he was disoriented and struggling. She hated knowing that it was because of something she had done to him. She couldn’t stand the fact that she’s unable to give him a hug or hold his hand right then and there without it being a major concern to everyone in the room.

So, if she couldn’t wrap her arms around him protectively and kiss all over his face, whisper reassurances into his ear, and let him know that he’s alright, she was going to settle for checking in with him throughout the day, bringing him food, refilling his water, placing a gentle hand over his arm whenever she noticed him retreating into his own head. Nobody seemed to notice the shift in her behavior, or if they did, nobody made it known. Except for Joshua.

“Is Matty okay?” He’d asked as soon as they were alone.

“What? Yeah…he’s- he’s fine. Just going through some stuff.”

Joshua made a vague humming sound that acknowledged her response as his eyebrows crossed. “He’s a good guy. Hope he feels better soon.” He held the door open for Amelia to walk through.

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, there’s a restaurant that Jamie told me about. Think we should try it while we’re in town. Wanna go out for dinner tonight?”

Amelia hated herself for what she was about to say. She hated doing this. But how could she not? “I- uhhh…can’t tonight. I think I’m gonna spend the night across the hall at Matty’s-“

“Again?!”

“I’m sorry! I know. We’ve hardly had alone time this week. But…I’m worried about him. I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

Joshua’s face dropped. “Can’t one of the boys hang out with him for a few hours?”

“I promised him that I would.” She lied.

“Right….” Joshua nodded. He took a long moment to accept his fate. “Alright then. Some other time maybe.”

Amelia felt awful letting him down. But she’d found herself in a position where she would inevitably let someone down, no matter who she chose. She reached for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Joshua. Maybe you could still go? Like with someone else?”

Joshua thought about it for a moment. “George mentioned being interested.”

“Great! I’m sure he’d love to go with you!”

He forced himself to soften and put on a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah George is a cool dude. It’d be a good time.”

“Great, so, you’ll go?”

“I’ll go. With George.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Watching him walk away, Amelia felt a knot in her stomach. What had she done?

***

“Are you going to punish me?” Matty asked, as soon as they sat on the bed.

“Punish you ? What for?”

He shifted in his place. “Well- earlier- I…”

“You didn’t break any rules, Matty. It was an accident. You get that, right?”

He nodded but rather than looking relieved, he seemed disappointed.

“Matty, look at me. What is it? What’re you thinking right now?”

“It’s just- I know it was an accident. But…it wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t perfect. And….this whole thing is supposed to be punishment for- when I fucked up and slept with someone else.”

Amelia reached an arm out, “come here for a second. Listen, remember what we said about rewards and punishments? How they’re meant to motivate you to steer away from certain things and towards others?”

He nodded

“Well, in addition to just being fun.” She winked, jokingly. “That’s why these rules only apply to things and behaviors that you can control. An accident is unintentional. You didn’t mean to. And you couldn’t have stopped it. Your body reacted reflexively. What would be the point of punishing you for that?”

Matty smiled, as a few stray tears rolled down his eyes. “Fuck. This is so silly. Why am I crying?” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“It’s not silly. It’s okay.” Amelia held his face in her hand, pulling him to her chest. “Matty, I think…I mean, I have to ask if these aren’t subdrop symptoms? You’ve been a bit off all day.”

Matty shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe. Could be.”

She kissed his head, slowly separating between their bodies so she could get off the bed. “Well, then, you stay there and relax. Let me take care of you.”

“You’ve been taking care of me all day-“

“So? I’ll do it all night, too.”

Her smile melted his heart. If he was being real, in one form or another, Amelia has been taking care of him for weeks. And the effort wasn’t lost on him. His gratitude was impossible to put into words. He really wanted to get better. If not for himself, then for her. So she didn’t have to feel like her support was in vain.

When Amelia jumped back on the bed, she’d brought her box of recently purchased sex toys with her, and matty felt a shiver run down his spine at the realization. What on earth was she planning to do to him tonight? The look in his eyes made her giggle. They both knew they were in for a ride.

“Gonna undress you now, okay?”

“More than okay.” He grinned.

***

“Matty?” Amelia called out his name when she felt that he was zoning out. “Have you had enough? It’s been a while. We can stop if you’re done.”

Matty shook his head. “No, no. I’m okay. Sorry I’ve gone quiet. I’m alright, though.”

She looked down at the hickeys and love bites that she’d left all over him, surveying her handiwork.

“For this next bit, you won’t be quiet, I promise you.” Her smile was almost menacing. “But first, open your mouth for me.”

Matty obeyed instantly.

“You know what to do,” she stuck her fingers into his open mouth. “Suck. Like your life depends on it. Cuz that’s the only lube you’ll be getting.”

Matty’s eyes widened as he fervently sucked on her fingers, hollowing his cheeks, gagging, tears running down his throat, and drool down his chin.

“Alright that’s it. Good enough.”

Amelia paused, admiring how beautiful he looked with his face flushed, his lips wet and pink, panting for breath.

“You did good, Matty.” She said.

Matty smiled, shyly looking away. But she could tell that he reveled in her compliment. It was kind of odd but extremely endearing to her that she could say the filthiest things to him and he wouldn’t bat an eye, but a simple word of praise flustered him endlessly. He always seemed surprised to find out that she was happy with him. It almost broke her heart.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

“You can tap out at any time, you know that, right?”

“Mhm. I- I do. Can you…erm, hold my hand? Please?”

she never knew why that was so important to him, something he asks for frequently, and often did with her even when he was the one in control. But she never questioned it. “Yeah, sure.”

She used her wet fingers to tease his hole, listening to him gasp and moan as he made a deliberate effort to stay relaxed. His hand squeezed hers when he felt her first finger slowly push its tip into him.

“Ohh fuck!” He cried out. His eyes falling shut.

“Feel okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Just…tight. It’s been a minute.” Blushing at his own words.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Matty seemed to grow more comfortable as she went on, slowly and cautiously pushing deeper into it him.

“Never done this on my- ohh Christ!- on my back. Before- fuckin hellll.” He whined. “F- feels- uhh…intense.”

“You wanna change positions?”

He was tempted to say yes, eager to hide his face away or get on all fours. But feeling vulnerable and exposed like this was new. He wanted to challenge himself. To take this step with her. “No, I- think I’m okay.”

“Sounds like you’re ready for a second finger.”

Matty whimpered, feeling his stiff cock twitch, his words getting caught in his throat, chest growing tight. “Oh, A- Amelia…that-“

“I love when you say my name like that.”

“I love- you- r name.”

She giggled. “Matty, honey, I don’t think you know what you’re saying at this point.”

Once satisfied that his body had adjusted,she abruptly pulled her fingers out of his asshole.

“N-no! That’s - I- why?” He complained.

“You’re so greedy, gosh.” She swatted at his chest lightly. “Because I’ve got this,” reaching over into the box and pulling out. Strap-on.

“Oh fuck.” Matty simply let out.

“As much as I would relish seeing you suck dick, I’m kind of excited to rail you until you break. So, maybe next time.” She squirted a generous glop of lube onto the toy, coating it evenly.

Matty was quickly rendered a crying, moaning, mess. Not that Amelia was bothered by it. She’d momentarily lost herself, admiring the way that he clenched around the artificial cock, the way that the you stretched him out, the way that his entire body responded to that pressure, his legs shaking, his cock bubbling with pre-cum. She slid in and out of him, listening for the beautiful sounds that came from his lips every time.

She knelt down, placing a soft kiss to his hip tattoo before holding on to both of his hips for more control and speeding up her pace.

Matty cried louder, his moans, and attempted thanks punctuated by her thrusts.

“Look at me, baby.” Amelia chuckled. He couldn’t hear her over his own voice. “Eyes on me, sweet boy.” Despite her attempts, matty seemed completely unaware of her commands. She just wanted to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelmed but she let him be.

She began to thrust harder, watching as a fresh wave of tears ran down his face. She had no idea that side of her existed, but now that it was out there, she was having a lot of fun. “Go ahead and touch yourself, Matty.” She said once his voice had disappeared from screaming.

“Really?” He attempted to speak, his throat hoarse.

“Yeah. No waiting; no pain tonight. Just pleasure.”

“You really mean that?”

She laughed. “You deserve to feel good, Matty. Go on, darling.”

Amelia watched his hand shake and slip a few times as she pushed into him forcefully. “You want me to get you off?” She offered.

“Y- yes please? Your hand feels better.”

“Flatterer.”

It didn’t take much to get him over the edge. After all, he’d been there all week.

“I can cum? Right now?”

“Cum for me.”

She watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his entire body trembling harshly as he let go, his release strong and all-consuming. He’d attempted to thank her, but his words soon slurred, and all she heard, was a long, guttural moan.

She slowly pulled out of him, his still-quivering body ached. She heard him wince.

“Matty, love, could you turn on your side for me?”

She helped him lay on his right side before surprising him by thrusting back in. He hadn’t yet recovered from his orgasm, but he held his breath as she slid in.

“M-more?”

“Yeah. Think I’ll keep going. If you can take more.”

“I- I’ll - take whatever you want to do to me.”

“That’s sweet, baby. You’re being so good. But I’m trying to ask if you wanna stop.”

“Want whatever you want.”

She took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “You’re so beautiful.” She smiled gently. “anyway, the reason that I had you flip on your side is because I wanted to see if I could get this angle right. Let me try something.” She adjusted her hips, thrusting hard. A primal scream echoed from him. She’d found the right spot.

“Oh my godddd. Please don’t stop. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. Please, please, please…”

“What’re you begging for, baby?”

“Ohhh….i- I don’t knowww….”

She pushed the phallic toy all the way into his hole, and watched his body spasm around it.

“Sooo. Fuckin. Deep. Ohhhh. Fuckkkk.”

Matty’s toes curled.

“Wanna cum again?”

“Yeah. Yeah please can I?”

“Yeah, let go. Do it.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank youuuu.”

Matty writhed against the bed once more, his neck straining as his back arched off the mattress. He panted and strangled his own screams, but Amelia pounded harder into him, not letting up.

“Gonna go for a third.” She simply stated.

No longer able to speak, let alone protest, Matty simply nodded, before closing his eyes.

“Stay with me, Matty. You’re slipping.”

When he didn’t respond, she slapped his face lightly. “Matty, c’mon. Open those beautiful eyes, let me see you.”

He blinked up at her, slowly, and she knew he was barely present. His head too full of pleasure to process anything.

“Ride me. Go ahead and move your body. Cmon.”

after a longer response time than usual, matty mumbled “can’t. Too tired.”

“Do it, Matty. Cmon.”unwilling to deny her anything, he moved his hips slowly, with considerable difficulty. “Can’t. Too sore.”

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” Was the last thing he heard her say before he blacked out. He felt her push his knees into his chest, allowing her to thrust deeper, his entire body shook as she hit him exactly where he needed most. He attempted a half-hearted beg, but she understood anyway, and gave him permission to cum. The pleasure so good, so strong, that his mind went blank, his body acting on pure instinct. Not a thought in his mind, not a word on his lips, he laid there, shaking, heavy limbed, tears down his cheeks.

Amelia spoke softly, despite the fact that she was certain he wasn’t listening. She talked him through her movements like he so often did with her. “Gonna pull out now.” And when he whimpered in discomfort, she rubbed his legs. “I know, sorry, my love.”

Moments later, she sat next to him. “Gonna just…wipe you clean, okay? Just for now. We’ll get you in the shower soon, yeah?” She moved his body around in various ways to clean him up, and he made no effort to intervene or stop her. It was eerie, a bit concerning, and she would’ve assumed that he was unconscious, if it weren’t for the way that his weak hands attempted to hold hers when she brought a blanket over to cover him with. He was wordlessly asking for a cuddle. And who is she to deny him?

Amelia laid down behind Matty, wrapping her arms around him and pushing their bodies together so his back was right against her chest. Her hands resting on his bare stomach, she would occasionally stroke that skin, or gently scratch it, trying to make sure he feels something physical to ground him.

“Matty, are you with me?”

She felt his hand squeeze hers.

“Good. You’re good, baby. Did so well. I’m glad we did this.” After a moments pause, she spoke again. “Did you feel good?”

He squeezed her hand again.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. My love, I know that you must be so out of it right now, but I need you to rally, okay? We gotta feed you and maybe take a shower.”

Despite her preemptive words, they remained in bed for a long time. Matty’s tears kept pouring out of him, Amelia held him tighter. He didn’t seem to be able to speak, or perhaps he had nothing to say, so she tried to do the talking for him. Out of helplessness, not knowing how best to comfort him, and out of worry, that she might have hurt him in some way.

“Tonight was a lot, yeah? Three orgasms after being pent up for so long? That had to have been overwhelming.” She whispered. “But you took it so well. Know it must have been difficult. Thank you for putting yourself through that. For me. You were so good. ” She paused, her hand moved to stroke the length of his arm. “You like giving up control, don’t you? But you struggle to do it. It’s cuz you’re in your head all the time.” She kissed his shoulder. “I get it. It’s what makes you so special. But it must be exhausting. You gotta give yourself a break sometimes. And I appreciate that you do that with me. Really. I do. Don’t think that I take this lightly. I don’t. Means a lot to me.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Just hate that this is the only way you allow yourself some release. I wish you’d be nicer to yourself.”

She felt him wriggle in her arms, slowly, and clumsily, he turned around to face her, resting his head on her chest. He mumbled a broken, hardly audible, “thank you.” With a strained voice.

“Gosh you’re making it so difficult to get up. We can’t fall asleep…”

Matty did, of course, fall asleep. He couldn’t help it. His body was drained, all out of energy, his mind had slowed to a complete halt for the first time since tour had started, he couldn’t feel his legs and he had no voice to speak. Amelia held on to him for a while, still playing with his hair, watching him sleep soundly, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathed. It was the most peaceful he’d looked in a long time. But she had to get them both up eventually.

She peeled herself away from him, rummaging through the suite to sort all the necessities. Once she was satisfied that everything was prepared for them, she crawled back into bed next to him, kissing him awake.

“Matty, darling, wake up.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby, I know this is not what you want right now, but you’re gonna have a really hard time tomorrow if we don’t do this now. Don’t want you to drop and struggle all day, yeah?”

Matty’s eyes fluttered slowly, opening slightly. “Yeah.” He smiled.

She helped him sit up then handed him a glass of water and a bottle of his protein shakes that he always had on hand. “Need you to work on those okay?”

“What about you, Amelia?”

The fact that he was asking about her meant that he was slowly coming back into himself.

“I- I’m…I’ll eat later. Don’t worry about me right now.”

“We’ll share?” He offered. The gesture made her feel warm and fuzzy.

***

Steaming hot water ran down his back like a waterfall. Amelia had decided that he was too out of it to wash his own hair, so she’d hopped in the shower with him, running her fingers through his hair and lathering it with shampoo. Matty could hardly stop giggling and smiling the whole time. Especially whenever she took small breaks from washing him to leave small kisses all over his head and body.

Matty turned around, kissing her lips as steam filled their lungs and fogged up the bathroom around them.

“Thank you.” He whispered into her mouth any time that they broke, briefly, for some air.

“What do you keep thanking me for?” She laughed.

“For….just being you.”

***

Amelia placed a gentle kiss to his forehead as he slept, before tiptoeing out of the room the next morning. Even as she made her way back to her own room, she was already daydreaming about what they would do tonight, once she could come by his room again, after their long day of work.

At the other end of the hall, her boyfriend awaited. “Hi Joshua-“

“When were you going to tell me that you and Matty have slept together?” He asked, sprinting to his feet as soon as she walked in.

Amelia felt the blood run cold in her face. How did he find out? Had he seen them together somehow? They’ve been very careful. Made sure he was nowhere near them whenever they would sneak off. Perhaps not as careful as she’d thought.

“W- wha-what?” She babbled.

“I mean, I know it was before we met but I befriended the guy! Don’t you think I had a right to know?”

Amelia snapped out of her terrified daze. He doesn’t know. They have been careful. Everything’s fine. “Who told you?”

“George did. At dinner.”

“Damn you George Daniel!”

“No, no. Don’t be mad at him. He thought I already knew. He wasn’t telling on you.”

Amelia smiled, nervously, looking into his kind eyes. “Well, I- I’m sorry, Joshua. I didn’t know how to bring it up, and….you seemed to like Matty and I didn’t want to ruin that- didn’t want you to think about me and him….any time that you spoke to him.” She sighed, realizing that she’d run out of breath.

Joshua said nothing. He looked down at his girlfriend, who’d walked to sit on the end of the bed, her head held down in shame.

“Are you mad?” She asked when he wouldn’t speak.

“I- don’t know- I mean, you lied to me, Amelia. I asked you if you guys ever dated….you said almost.”

“No! No, I didn’t lie! We’ve never dated, I promise. It was just sex…I know that sounds a bit weird, but we have never been like ‘in a relationship.’”

Joshua hummed, taking in her words, studying her face. She looked genuine, she looked sorry. Like she was telling the truth.

“I guess…in a way….maybe I’m glad I just found out. Cuz, you’re right. I like Matty and…I probably wouldn’t have if you’d let me know from the start.” He forced a deliberate smile, attempting to dissolve the tension.

“So- you’re…not upset?”

“I mean…a bit disappointed but-“

“I’m so sorry!!”

“But not upset, no.”

“Do you…like…do you wanna know anything? I mean, there’s not much to know. Like I said…we weren’t dating or anything….mostly fucking.”

“ I think the less I know about that the better. For all involved.”

“So- we’re done talking about this?”

“Mhm. Unless you wanna say something?”

****

Amelia pushed the breakfast around her plate as her thoughts spun and weaved. Why did she feel a strange sense of freedom, for a small moment, when she thought Joshua had found out about her and Matty, when she pictured breaking up with him, she felt relieved. Was she a terrible person for feeling that way? Should she lean into it? Surely Joshua deserves to be with someone who doesn’t feel freed by the potential of losing him?

With considerable effort, she lifted her gaze up towards Joshua, looking him in the eyes. “Umm…Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to tell you something. There’s- we need to talk….”

He sighed, loudly, setting down his fork. “We’re breaking up aren’t we?”

***

Matty looked through the peephole to see Amelia waiting to be let in. He unlocked the door quickly, delighted by her early visit. Amelia, on the other hand, was too angry for pleasantries.

“Can I ask you something?” She tapped her foot, crossing her arms over her chest.

“‘Course.” Matty frowned, unsure of what he was about to face.

“What happened to your Fender Mustang?”

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut

[prodbyblush]

YO YO YO!! what abt chishiya w an s/o whose love language is being mean? like their pet names are 'asshole, dickhead, dumbass, stupid" constantly teasing him. making fun of him lovingly. hitting him, biting him playfully. yk !! ur carrying the aib tag

ｎｏｗ ｌｏａｄｉｎｇ …

▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 100%

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

・❥・ requested

an: so true. i am carrying the aib tag in my back.

→ gn!reader

• on the outside, nobody really knows the dynamics of your relationship with chishiya. like, how can he put up with someone who's completely the exact opposite of him? • but hey, even though it's been debunked by psychology, opposites do attract! • chishiya learned that for whatever he does - reading a book, watching tv mindlessly or just looking into patient's records, you will bite him. • it bothers him in the beginning of course. he'd send you a glare because you prohibit him from his movements. but now, he's learned to ignore it and just pat your head gently with his free hand. • "your job is so boring, idiot. but for doing a good job today, i made us dinner!" • is glad that at least you didn't put anything funny or weird on his food. • "aww i didn't know you like me for my personality" • "i know. even i'm surprised" • on days you aren't affectionately teasing him, chishiya can't help but wonder if something happened to you. • bad day? not in the best mood? did someone overly criticize their work? who did he have to beat up? • "don't bother, stupid. i've dealt with them already. just stay here in my arms like a good puppy, alright?" • since chishiya's foreign to the concept of love and it's aspects, he was definitely surprised when you had first started calling him "idiot", "weirdo" and "boring" but in an affectionate tone. • had resorted to looking it up on the internet to know that it was just your way of letting him know that you are comfortable around him. • and for that, he tries to mirror you. key word: tries • "did you just bite my arm, chishiya?" • "so this is what it feels like to be you"

TAGS: @retrospacealien @chishiya-of-diamonds @boowoomuu

#imawa no kuni no arisu #imawa no kuni no alice #aib x you #aib x reader #chishiya imagine #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #alice in borderland #aib #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya #alice in boderland x reader

[jeonbunnie]

love language

pairing: reader x taehyung

anon requested: “If requests are still open, can you do love language by kelahni with idol taehyung? Bonus if the reader is a American (or just a foreigner) living in Korea with okay proficiency in Korean. ”

summary: Taehyung’s willing to learn all the ways to love you.

genre: slight angst; fluff

soundtrack: love language — kehlani

content/warnings: pg 13, established relationship, boyfriend!AU, inexperienced!reader, consent talk, mutual pining

word count: 1.3k

♪ Said I wanna be fluent in your love language. Learnin' your love language ♪

Taehyung was still learning how to love you.

There’d always been a language barrier between you, and you often failed to understand each other’s language.

Most of the time, it was easy to read between the lines. To pick up on your silent cues, the way you leaned in when you were interested in what he had to say. How you lowered your gaze when you were feeling shy or bit your lip while fighting back a shy smile.

It’s the same smile you’re wearing now, draped across his couch, cheesing over a romantic drama. He loved you like this: lighthearted and carefree. But lately, it’s a side to you he’d been missing.

And he hated breaking you out of your happy bubble, but Taehyung needed to speak to you to clear up something weighing on his heart.

“Can we talk?”

There’s hesitation in your eyes now that the questions have been asked. Taehyung waits for the tension to melt, patiently observing as you look him in the eye and nod.

“Are you not attracted to me?”

You blink, frozen in time for a second. And then burst into laughter.

“What?” You said the sounded light, letting Taehyung know you’re not exactly laughing at him or being rude, but he can still feel a slight blush creep up his neck.

“I’m serious,” He said, voice a bit more taunt.

“Wait?” You said, growing serious. You turn away from the TV to face him on the couch. Your brows pulled together in a way Taehyung’s learned to read as ‘concerned’ on your face. “Really?”

By now, Taehyung basically knew how to read you down to a science.

Some things were easier to learn than others. Early on, he figured out you weren’t a morning person. He found it cute that you were always so grumpy during the early hours and that the little scrunch between your brows meant you weren’t ready to talk before having caffeine. He quickly learned you appreciated him bringing you a cup of coffee more than a good morning call.

It took a little longer for him to learn you didn’t care much for gifts. Over time, he began to understand that you valued his time over his money. You never cared about the wrapping for a gift—you’d rather be wrapped up in his arms, spending sun-soaked days together in the park

And the little things, of course. Taehyung knew your favorite color and how to make your smile. He was fairly certain your love language was quality time (acts of service a close second). There were still parts of you he was desperate to know more—soul, mind, and body.

Taehyung cared more for physical touch. You, however, never seemed all that interested in being intimate. Whenever he tried to initiate something more than a kiss, you almost always slipped from his grasp, muttering a vague excuse.

“Lately…” He started, “It seems like every time I touch you, you pull away. So I just thought?”

He knew something was wrong. It had to be him, didn’t it?

You sent him a timid smile. “Taehyung, I’m beyond attracted to you. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

A pause. “I just—I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You feel…” Taehyung licked his lips, searching for the right words. “Distant. Like you’re holding back.”

“Do you not like me anymore? Is that why you don’t want me to touch you?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Then?”

“It’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I think I like you too much, and I’m scared to be close.”

Taehyung often misunderstood the meaning behind your words. Usually, it was because you were using your own language or talking too fast.

This time the mixed message felt deeper than anything google translate could solve. Because you were speaking a language he understood, and he still couldn’t make sense of what you meant.

“I don’t understand.”

You sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Never mind. It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Gently, Taehyung reached out and pulled your hands away from your face. “It’s not stupid. I just don’t understand yet. Can you explain it to me?”

It was quiet for a minute, but Taehyung didn’t rush you. He rubbed his thumbs against your hands, hoping to calm your nerves enough.

“I’m not that experienced….” You said finally, unable to look him in the eye. “So the idea of being close to someone like that…it feels..overwhelming?”

Taehyung felt his heart soften. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said softly.

“I want to! It’s not like I mean to pull away. I get nervous. There’s so much I don’t know sexually, and I get in my head about things. Wondering if I’m making the right move or what I like and what you like? I want our first time to be perfect, and I just-”

You stopped, burying your face in his chest. “This is embarrassing. I’m going to stop talking now.”

Taehyung laughed. He could tell you were mortified to reveal this information like you wanted to sink into the couch hide. But he found you to be adorable. “You’re so cute,” he said.

It all made sense now. Your shyness, the awkward pauses. The way you seemed to want more but backed off every time things got heated between you. Relief coursed through him. All this time, he was worried for nothing. It felt good knowing you wanted him the same way he wanted you.

He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “We can go slow…whatever pace you need. There’s no rush.”

The furrow in your brow fades, and Taehyung knows he’s said the right thing to calm your nerves. Still, there’s doubt in your eyes.

“You don’t think it’s weird that I haven’t…you know?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. But I think it’s weird that you didn’t tell me.”

You try to look away then, but Taehyung doesn’t let you, taking your chin in his hand until you make eye contact again.

“Hey. I wanna know everything about you,” said Taehyung. “Your thoughts and your feelings. Even the things that make you nervous, even the embarrassing things you think you should hide.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t mind if that takes time,” Taehyung continued. “I can be patient. But I need you to be open with me moving forward. Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” you said, finally giving him a real smile. The one he loved so much that made your eyes sparkle and shine.

Taehyung scooped you up into his lap, happy to know the two of you were back on the same page. “So, is this okay? Me holding you like this?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I like it when you hold me.”

“And when I kiss you?” He asked, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“I love it when you kiss me. And not just on my forehead. . .”

“Here?” He said, kissing your cheek.

“Taehyung…” you whine.

“Yeah? So you like this?” Said Taehyung, peppering you with kisses all over your face.

“Taehyung,” you giggled. “You know what I mean. Kiss me for real.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. “Define real. You’re going to have to be more specific.” He knows what you want but can’t make it easy for you now, can he?

“You’re gonna make me ask?”

“Well, the last time I went in for a kiss, it didn’t go so well.”

You rolled your eyes, and Taehyung’s sure he would have to tease you a bit more, but then you surprised him, closing the distance with a kiss. It’s languid and sweet. Slow, saccharine goodness that has his mind running wild with possibilities. There’s still so much he wants to learn about you: how to calm your nerves, how to show you that you’re safe with him, how to love you, and how to make love to you. How to please you. What turned you on, what drove you wild…

And he knows it’ll take some time for you to be vulnerable with him. But if going slow means more perfect kisses like this, he doesn’t mind the wait.

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #bts scenario #taehyung scenarios #song fic #my fics.🍪 #req fill.📦 #taehyung x reader #After a billion yearssssss #hi

[stackslip]

chapter 140 thoughts under the cut

fujimoto's goal of rewriting fire punch with a bit more silliness continues (i love the chainsaw pews)

fujimoto said i know writers who do subtlety and they're all cowards

BROBENI CONFIRMED. now to know if he's her younger brother who was gonna be put through college by kobeni's exploited labour (which..... gd damn that parallel with denji and nayuta......). also i've been told nobana is traditionally a female name.......... hm.

real, though in this context it sounds more like anti usamerican imperialism language repurposed for nationalist ends..... it's not fujimoto is uncritical of america either though considering the gun devil in part 1. fascinating to see where this might go and how much that kind of language parallels irl pro-japanese imperialism and nationalists' own discourse.

i find it fascinaing that kids are considered the only acceptable members of the cult only to be introduced to an adult leader several pages later lol. but obviously the cult (because this 200% is a cult) is filling a gap--the first half of part 1 showed us how much it fucking SUCKS to be even an ordinary kid both irl and in this world, the lack of agency and the poverty and being preyed upon by adults or abandoned entirely, and then mocked on national tv when they take the deaths of their classmates and friends seriously..... so of course so many would end up here, being told that adults really ARE dangerous and incapable of seeing the world the way they do. cleverly done, i hope fujimoto expands on this and doesn't fall back on Let Adults Take Care Of This

similarly i hope this doesn't fall into the liberal storytelling trap of "the government is bad, but this new group has appeared that's Even Worse, so the government is actually good now" that also appears in so many shounen tbh. i don't think he will bc even outside of the church public safety is still so fucked up

denji's expressions this chapter are top tier lmao. genius move to make denji the "straight man" in the previous few chapters where he's genuinely flabbergasted by how batshit everyone else is

FUCKING CRYING. yeah the implications are dire but. HOWL

again jokes asides there is SO MUCH to unpack here. you'll get married AND THEN become a member of the church (implying marriage is a requirement or, as said later, strongly encouraged to join the cult at all). sex is consummated immediately in the next room. so far we've mostly seen men and boys in charge of the church, except for fami/kiga......... which...... does not bode well. makes me wonder how many are pressured into marriage/sex both as a way to attract new male followers and as a way to keep control over all

speaking of which. it says student but they mean /high school students/, maybe even middle school students, aka again children! and again the language of Modernity Has Lied To Us, Child Marriage And Ownership Is The Way right there being recited. the appeal to nationalism and what is "natural", kids as property of their parents and the church,.... and yes i AM reminded of behemboth(?), the patriarchal city-cult of fire punch whose entire horrid existence is justified with "it's natural" and "we are saving people by giving them shelter here". the patriarchy is central here!

and of course the part about kids being born and raised into the church themselves...... after shinzo abe's death, japan's having a bit of a reckoning re the influence of cults in political life and vice versa, and particularly the impact on children raised in said cults. there's also been a reactionary backlash to the idea of *foreign* cults (like the unification church, originally from korea) having "too big" an influence on japan, versus the Good National Japanese Cults that are spared some of that backlash. so i find it interesting that fujimoto firmly grounds this as a *japanese* nationalist cult that claims to be trying to save the country from foreign influence. obviously i'd love to know more, bc i'm sure there's a lot of language and references in the original that i'm missing and that mirror irl japanese politics and reactionary tendencies.

denji's backlash in forcing kids to get married.... i do wonder how much of his backlash comes from the idea of forced child marriage (and being forced in general), or if he would have been okay with someone being pressured to have sex with him without marriage, or he wouldn't have thought about it tbh.

i want to see the chainsaw man bathroom............

the hybrids all coming together.... wonder if this means reze and quanxi will be back PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. but also in the context of the church.... the weapon hybrids were used as various governmental projects and living weapons for years--japan, china, the ussr, and i imagine the usa and other western powers had their own as well. then they got controlled by makima, and now they're in the church.... i hope we explore more of the abuse and parallels they have with denji, and see just how and why miri trusts in the church so much as a refuge compared to his previous abuse. ALSO BRING BACK REZE AND QUANXI GD PLEASE......

this is 200% the guy who was in the shadows telling haruka it was all planned. and again the irony of nobana talking about how this is a church by and for children, only to immediately be threatened by someone who is very obviously an adult in charge

his eyes REALLY freak me out btw, fujimoto did a great job at his expressions lol. also really love the detail of the suspenders and the

barem.... the closest i could find for that name's meaning was the hebrew for "son of nation" which. hm! worrisome!

so idk if fujimoto was TRYING to give this dude the vibes of a sexual predator but between the cult's pressuring kids to get married and have sex, his role as one of the sole adult "humans" around, his treatment of nobana, and his general demeanor and manner of speech + the themes of sexual abuse and predation in the series in general........ gd he gives me the absolute creeps lmao, incredible design and tone. also what he says here about asa which gives me SO MANY red flags and makes me think more of the patriarchal aspect of the cult too

the name of the chapter is "scales"..... which is associated with kiga, as the horseman of Famine. and of course during the whole chapter we hear about how the church is necessary and its actions help save lives etc etc etc. just as we heard the yakuza justify their existence to makima, just as public safety justified its own existence in terms of killing devils while really using them as a way to terrorize the population and threaten other nations.

i find it interesting that in a way, kiga gave a similar deal to asa but in far more positive a view. do these things for us, become this weapon for us, and this person you care about (or think you know even if briefly) will live. kiga was just a lot better at presenting it and obsfucating the actual horrors that would follow--denji however is in too deep, and doesn't buy into the bs anymore. so he's given much more stark and open a choice! just as public safety tried to threaten denji to keep quiet lest they kill nayuta and raise her as their own all over again! gd he and asa's lack of agency..... fuck me up so so bad

wondering if we're eventually going to come back to denji's motif of choosing a third choice and refusing the dual choice entirely! wonder if asa herself will only see a single solution in front of her every time......

anyhow. good chapter. there's gotta be a lot that i'm missing here in terms of relations to current japanese political context and i'd love to learn more on it tbh.

#eli talks #csm #chainsaw man #csm musings