#me: (sweating) the...the triangle points here...because it...it has a point.
Note
I was wanting to try doing an art piece in the style of the signature spell poster art pieces you create. But I’m not really the best at coming up with a composition for such a thing.
Do you have a process for how you come up with the compositions for them?
oh, awesome! it is an INCREDIBLY enjoyable style to work in; I hope you have fun with it! :D
I'm not great at putting my thought/art process into words, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'll try! my first step is always to do a LOT of thumbnails to figure out both the idea and how I want to show it; not trying to do a real sketch or anything, just little doodles to figure out what exactly I'm trying to portray. (I also call these "garbage passes" because they're not meant to be any good, they're just there to throw things out. aha. ha. ...anyway.) I think it's important during that first stage to really focus on the idea and the layout and not to get too bogged down in the actual drawing yet!
I tend to save my final thumbnails, so I'll use 'em as examples (I posted the ones up through episode 5 here if you're interested!) (and, uhhh, spoilers through episode 5 also in this post, hopefully that won't be an issue!)
the main thing I try to think about in composition is balance -- not necessarily in terms of symmetry, but in where each element is placed and how much space it's taking up. remember, empty space is still space! it's also really important to think about the parts that don't have anything in them, as much as the parts that do!
personally, I like to divide things up roughly by both halves and by thirds -- there's a lot more in-depth info out there on why the "rule of thirds" in particular works well visually, but in short, our brains tend to focus on things that are placed closer to imaginary division lines, instead of in the exact center of an image. so even when I'm doing something that is very centered and symmetrical, I try to keep that in mind and generally aim around those for landmarks like faces/eyes (or...where they would be, anyway) and other focal points.
it's not a formula of "the character's face should be in this division of this grid" or anything, more like "our minds like to focus on these areas, let's think about how to use that", if that makes sense! and of course rules are made to be broken, art is lawless anarchy, and so on. but it can be a good starting place for deciding where you want to put things!
(blue - thirds, red - half)
and against the finished versions, because they do usually end up changing a lot (including the empty space of the border):
(...these actually lined up a lot better than I thought they would. :') it makes me look like I do things way more intentionally than I do.)
other stuff I just try to keep in mind is that our eyes like following arcs and paths, which can be a good way to guide the eye:
and frame and control the focus:
honestly, composition is one of those things I feel like I struggle with a lot, so I'm not sure how much of this is helpful or actually makes sense outside of my head. but hopefully it helps a little! it's all just stuff to think about while drawing and not anything hard-and-fast, so don't, like, stress out about making sure things are lining up exactly on the thirds or anything. again, it's more "our brains think these are the dopest parts of the rectangle" than anything else! take advantage of the cool parts of the rectangle!
NOW GO HAVE FUN DRAWING seriously though, it is always super cool that other people like this idea and style enough to want to do it themselves and for other/their own characters! thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
#art#sketch#twisted wonderland#...technically i guess? it's not about twst but there is twst art present anyway#i did have a few more examples but then i wasn't sure if you were cool with episode 7 spoilers. whoops. 🫠#many other people have explained the rule of thirds and directional flow way better than me and i apologize#it is so hard to put things into words i am so sorry#me: the...you know...the lines...they sort of converge? like a triangle?#the internet: mm-hmm. yes. go on.#me: (sweating) the...the triangle points here...because it...it has a point.#the internet: it's doing better than you are then#genuinely shocked at how well some of these line up though#uh. i mean. actually it was all totally intentional and i put actual thought into it! NOT an accident at all!#my eyes darting back and forth shiftily are just ✨following the paths✨
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Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3
Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed.
Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile.
You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again.
But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell.
You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.
“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?”
“I wouldn’t say struggling.”
“You don’t need any help, then?”
“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”
“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.”
Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says.
“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully.
“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him.
“Thank you for helping.”
He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully.
Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly.
“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers.
“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”
Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that.
“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.
Not that nice.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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2012 Donnie x reader Incorrect Quotes
Got a request to do a Donnie version of this Raph x reaader post, so here it is lol
Side note, I did this with 2012 Dee in mind, but most versions should work fine.
***
(Y/N): I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.
Donnie: Wow. They sound stupid.
(Y/N): But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.
Donnie: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”
(Y/N): I guess you’re right. Hey Donnie, I love you.
Donnie: See! Just say that!
(Y/N): Holy fucking shit.
Donnie: If that flies over their head then, sorry (Y/N), but they're too dumb for you.
(Y/N): Donnie.
***
(Y/N): Am I right, Donnie?
Donnie: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.
***
(Y/N): Donnie, you love me, right?
Donnie: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.
***
Mikey: Ooh, somebody has a cru-ush
Donnie: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on (Y/N) I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them.
*Later that night*
Donnie, very much awake: Uh oh.
***
Donnie: *pretending to joke* So when are you going to go out with me?
(Y/N): I don't know. When are you going to ask me to?
Later..
Leo: And you just ran away?!
Donnie: I didn't expect them to flirt back!
***
(Y/N): Ugh, crushes are so dumb.
Donnie: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.
(Y/N): But you’re always acting stupid?
Donnie: ...
Donnie: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
***
Donnie: Did (Y/N) just tell me they loved me for the first time?
Leo: Yeah, they did.
Donnie: And did I just do finger guns back?
Leo: Yeah, you did.
***
Donnie: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.
(Y/N): What makes you say that?
Donnie: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?
(Y/N): Donnie... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?
Donnie: *screams in anger*
***
Donnie: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.
(Y/N): But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole
again.
Donnie: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??
(Y/N): Is it working?
***
Donnie: I’ve never been in a snowball fight before. I don’t know the rules.
(Y/N): What?
Donnie: Is there a point system, or is it to the death?
***
Donnie: There's no way they like me back.
April: (Y/N) would throw themself in front of a moving car for you.
Donnie: (Y/N) would throw themself in front of a moving car for fun.
***
Donnie: Do you want to play 20 Questions?
(Y/N): Sure!
(Y/N): What's your favorite color?
Donnie, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?
***
Donnie: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like (Y/N) a little bit.
April, holding Donnie's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation.
Donnie: No, that's our joint tombstone.
April: My mistake.
***
April: Is this your plan B?
(Y/N): Technically, this is plan P.
April: Plan P? Is there a plan M?
(Y/N): Yes, but I marry Donnie in plan M.
Donnie: I like plan M.
***
April: How the hell did you crash the car?!
(Y/N): So I was just driving today, right? And my navigation told me to go straight.
(Y/N): I was like "woah, that's homophobic". Instead, I went gay. And, THAT'S when I got into an accident.
April: ...
Donnie, with a proud smile: And THAT'S who I'm in love with, ladies and gentlemen.
***
Donnie: Where are you going?
(Y/N): To get MYSELF a birthday gift cause somebody didn't get me one!
Donnie: I told you I did! It's coming here on Friday!
Mikey, knowing full well that Donnie got (Y/N) an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*
***
Donnie, sweating: (Y/N), there’s something I need to ask you-
(Y/N): Finally! You’re proposing!
Donnie: How’d you know?
(Y/N), gently: Donnie, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
(Y/N): I even picked it up once.
***
Raph: So, are you two dating now?
Donnie & (Y/N): Yes.
Raph: Why?
Donnie: I happen to find (Y/N) very appealing.
Raph: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with (Y/N).
***
(Y/N): That's ridiculous, Donnie doesn't have a crush on me.
Mikey: Yes they do.
Leo: Yes they do.
Donnie: Yes I do.
***
Donnie: We both look really good tonight.
(Y/N): You know, if you'd just said that I looked good, I would have said, "So do you."
Donnie: I couldn't take that chance.
***
Leo: Do you love Donnie?
(Y/N): Yeah, I do.
Mikey: Leo! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks!
Leo: We all love Donnie. You should've asked if they were IN love with them.
(Y/N): I thought that was implied.
Leo: ...
Mikey: ...
(Y/N), looking straight at Leo: Congrats Mikey, you just won 100 bucks.
***
Mikey: *sees (Y/N) and Donnie together*
Mikey: They're cute. I would put them on a boat.
Leo: You mean... you ship them?
***
(Y/N), texting: Donnie, will you please go to sleep?
Donnie, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up?
(Y/N), yelling from the couch: I CAN HEAR YOU WORKING JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!
(Y/N), texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon?
Donnie, texting: I’m trying
(Y/N), yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH
(Y/N), texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)
***
Donnie: (Y/N) isn’t picking up on my hints.
April: What hints have you given them?
Donnie: Well, I think about them a lot.
Donnie: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.
***
(Y/N): Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them?
Donnie: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them.
(Y/N): Okay yeah thanks Donnie, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?
***
(Y/N): How petty can you get?
Donnie: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.
***
(Y/N): Why are you late?
Donnie: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness.
(Y/N): Overslept?
Donnie: Overslept.
***
(Y/N): I’m in love with you.
Donnie: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.
(Y/N): I know.
Donnie: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-
#tmnt x reader#tmnt 2012 x reader#reader insert#gender neutral reader#gn!reader#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt 2012 donnie x reader#tmnt 2012 donnie#donnie x reader#tmnt donatello#donatello x reader#2k12 donnie#tmnt incorrect quotes#x reader incorrect quotes#tmnt x reader incorrect quotes
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all the wine is all for me || a Bad Omens fanfic
Summary: Noah’s just admiring his gains. Perhaps he’s a little more proud of his progress than the average guy. There’s definitely not a secret third reason for why he’s spending so much time in front of the mirror…
Pairing: Noah x himself lol
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: unbeta'd trash. masturbation. narcissism in the greek mythology way not the psychology way
A/N: I drank a lot of wine (what else is new) and also @throughwoodsanddirt showed me that one panel from the comics that made me cackle so hard because damn Noah just really thinks he's hot as fuck huh and then I cackled until I wrote this fic
Brainrot Club: @familiarscarsxelectrichearts @throughwoodsanddirt @cowpokeomens
Masterlist here.
Title taken from All the Wine by The National; banner made by me (using Caravaggio's Narcissus); dividers by @saradika
Noah’s reflection is smiling at him.
That, of course, is explainable by the fact that he himself is smiling; grinning, in fact, because he just looks so damn good. His gains this month were frankly goddamn impressive. Already he can see the widening of his chest to form an inverted triangle of his torso, the definition building in his bicep when he flexes.
What worries him, though, is the naughty glint in his reflection’s eye, the too-sharp canines, the raise of a single eyebrow that he definitely is not capable of reproducing. Never has been.
He knows this look. Once, he had a fling with this girl who was an absolute freak, gets him half-hard even just remembering half the things she got up to between the sheets. And the fucking cherry on top: she loved making movies. Editing those for her unfailingly devolved into multiple-hours long dates between him and his hand. The face he’s making - his reflection is making - is the one that painted his face in the movies when she, pointing her phone to get his reaction, would ask him for the nastiest shit he’d thought only a fantasy in porn.
So it makes no sense that he’s looking at his reflection like this, because it’s not like he’s into himself.
His hand beelines south down the expanse of his strong (so goddamn strong, he’ll have definition in his six-pack any day now) stomach. That’s definitely not something he’s doing of his own volition. He’s not that self-absorbed.
Well, that’s a lie. He’s not gay (unless you count the exploratory hand stuff him and Nick did as teens), but if he could, he’d totally fuck himself.
It takes a bit of effort to shuck the grey sweats he’d worn down his hips with one hand, distracted as he is with the shapes his other arm makes as it continues to flex in the mirror. These used to be pretty loose, just crossing the line of oversized on him. Now, they’re filled by thick thighs and marble-cut hip flexors. With a single finger, he traces the vee framing trimmed pubic hair. These used to show just a hint of the magic underneath. Now, his hardness bulges a vulgar display.
Dropping the band even just an inch springs the tip of his cock, leaking and ready to play. It’s the only part of his body he’s never been self-conscious of, because God or whoever else decided he at least deserved a win in that department when they decided to make him a skinny bitch with weak lungs. Gives the girls who settle for him a nice reward.
Except, he never gets this hard for all the pretty girls he bags. This - the red, burning tip, the feeling like if he touches it he’ll cum in just a few strokes, the pain of wanting to draw the pleasure out as long as he can - is reserved only for the times he’s fucking his hand.
There’s a quiet battle of wills that follows between giving up inspecting his gains and giving into his own touch. He cups his balls through his sweats, head kicking back tugged by an invisible hand at the squeeze. Noah’s sure the column of his throat looks positively delicious like this, has seen enough photos of himself in this devout escape onstage, and thinks he’s no better than all the commenters saying they’d like to lick it. He’d do it instantly, and he knows it’d feel good.
In the end, the sweats come down his thighs. He’s never denied himself pleasure so heavily mounted, not when paraded before him so, not when the boundaries are inexistent. He won’t let himself be fucking tease.
The drag of the calluses on his fingers against the tenderhot flesh of his cock sends gooseflesh up his arms.
His toes numb for a moment as he finally takes himself in hand at the base, breath hitching wetly as he watches his hand wrap against himself. He’s heavy in his hand even to himself, so thick and veiny and so hard. A drop of precum splashes his thigh before he even has a chance to run his hand up the length. He collects it with his pinky when he reaches the tip, not daring let it go to waste.
Thunder thighs has always been a confusing insult to him. Thighs are the strength in legs, the support to a body, the place you put your hand to hint your desire to a lover. Thighs are his handles when buried in a lover - the cradle to what every person wants most from another. Years of touring and running out of underwear have made him accustomed to going commando, but since his thighs filled out - though he now can afford to just buy a five-pack Hanes on a whim - he prefers it. There’s never a better cradle for a commando cock than a thick set of thighs.
The overeager spit bubbles as it mingles with the precum on his palm, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun. The way they rapidly deflate feels like a countdown, one he’s determined to beat, and so finally, finally, he takes himself in hand earnestly.
He can’t help the strangled hiss that escapes.
Noah’s usually pretty quiet in bed. Doesn’t like the vulnerability that comes with voicing his pleasure, with sharing the secret of how easy to please he is with a partner. But, fuck, does he love talking himself through it. “C’mon, baby,” he chants to his hand as it increases speed. “So fucking good,” he groans through gritted teeth.
His voice is so fucking smooth. So fucking deep when he speaks through his chest. Just the perfect amount of grit that, if he shuts his eyes, he can feel reverberate through his nape and scalp and bang against the back of his nose as the sound waves travel to his cochlea.
He won’t shut his eyes now. Never - not when he’s looking like that with his brow furrowed, gaze hard and nearly icy, nostrils flared and jaw clenched tight.
He clenches it tighter, raises his chin just so to create the illusion of that perfect jawline.
“Noah,” he moans, “god, Noah, fuck.” It echoes in his ear, and it is his voice, but he swears he didn’t feel his lips move as he watches them round around each syllable in his reflection.
His name sounds so good rolling off his own tongue.
Release hits Noah not like a full-speed bullet train, but the way it feels when you pulled your first tooth: slow, painful, and with each tug more builds up until it just pops out. Only after does he register the relief, the shoot of tension up his spine to burst behind his eyes and temples, the numbness in his fingers as he struggles to jerk himself through.
Just those few final caresses. His cum blinds him with exploding stars and broken breaths. It paints the mirror in sloppy strokes of seminal goo, but he supposes that’s what Windex is for.
Before he registers the signal from brain to limb he kneels, the rough of his wall-to-wall carpet digging into his knees as he releases his eager tongue. The spend is saltybitter when it coats the bed of his taste buds, slimy as it runs down the ramp of his throat. Noah makes sure to collect every single drop.
He doesn’t feel shame when his eyes meet his own in the wet, distorted reflection once he’s done savoring himself. “You did so well, baby,” he says. “Such a good baby.”
His reflection nods eagerly, eyelids fluttering blissfully, head dropping as Noah’s neck stays stiff and still, eyes wide open.
God damn, he is a sight to be seen.
#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#crackfic#noah x noah#fern words
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Those who cannot do - Frankie!Morales x f!reader - CHAPTER ONE: ACCELERATION
words: 3.2
pairings: Frankie x f!Reader / Santiago x f!Reader
tags: love triangle (in later chapters), angst, smut, mentions of addictive substances, romance, nicknames,
Reader: Is a CIS woman, able-bodied, gainfully employed as a teacher, has hair long enough to pull, wears both skirts and jeans. Other than that, she is a blank canvas cuz she's you!
Summary: Frankie and Santiago have been through a lot during their friendship and have always come out the other side. But when both of them fall for the pretty new schoolteacher (YOU), it pushes them both to their breaking point.
notes: dividers by @saradika-graphics
Chapter One: Acceleration
Acceleration: A change in velocity; a change in either speed or direction or both.
Cocaine is a helluva drug as they say.
Francisco "Catfish" Morales can attest to such a statement because while the rest of his sleepy neighborhood bunkers down for the night, he stalks to his truck.
The Florida night is muggy, cloying and oppressive, causing his weathered grey t-shirt to stick to his spine. It reminds him of that horrible time back in Columbia.
His truck ambles down the winding side streets for thirty minutes, a new location because apparently Reggie moved.
Reggie is a nice enough guy, known Frankie about five years. Friends with Santi and Tom first. Wasn't always a dealer, he actually used to sell houses with Tom until the market went belly up.
Tom. Frankie tries not to think about Tom. Tries not to think about Columbia. Tries not to think of his wife's disdainful face when he came home empty handed.
I should turn around and go home.
But then Frankie thinks about the empty house waiting for him, he thinks of how cold it will be and he keeps driving.
He pulls up along the curb, turning off the engine. The area is a much nicer suburb than Frankie lives in, in the classy part of Florida.
He glances around and he knows he looks like a junkie. But he's not. He just needs a hit every now and then. Just once in a while when life gets unbearable.
Hey I'm here.
Frankie frowns, typing hurriedly.
Where?
Front of the house along the curb.
Frankie holds his phone in hand, eyes skimming the ... That appear and disappear several times.
There's a sudden knock at his truck window, stern. It makes his eyes jump from his phone to his left and he feels his heart sink as a familiar pair of dark brown eyes stare back at him.
Santiago "Pope" Garcia. Best friend. Best man at his be wedding. Best man he's ever known, full stop.
Fuck.
"Let me in, Fish."
Frankie feels the cold thread begin in his torso. That frantic pull that tells him he's not getting a hit tonight even though he needs it, desperately. Frankie unlocks the car, watching from behind shame-filled eyes as his friend pulls himself into the seat next to him.
"How did you-"
"Reggie doesn't deal anymore. Sent me a message when you texted him."
Fucking rat.
Pope watches his friends brows furrow, can see the flex of Frankie's lean neck.
"Fish I know you and your lady are having a bad time- "
"More than a bad time," Frankie spits out, body full of tension just begging to be released. "She's divorcing me, Pope. Got the papers today. She says she's done."
"But the counseling-"
"Don't mean shit when you're fucking someone else," Frankie says with teeth bared. "Some guy at her work."
Pope's eyes fall to his friends' broad hand tightening around the steering wheel. Recognizes that hollow look in Frankie's endless eyes, the kind that comes after a kill. The kind he recognizes from Columbia.
"Shit Frank, I'm sorry."
Frankie shrugs, eyes closing briefly. The air in the truck is tense, filled with the acrid scent of sweat and Pope's cheap cologne.
"When did you get back?"
"Last week," Pope smiles. "Just in time I guess."
"Australia?"
"Too hot," Pope shrugs.
"And Yovanna?"
"Too complicated."
Frankie scratches absently at his patchy facial hair, hears it rasp against his fingers in the quiet space. He knows better than to push Pope about this. Knows that Pope will never settle down, not really, even if he tries to convince everyone that's what he wants.
"I really am sorry Fish, but do you think you're gonna get split custody if you're high on coke?" Pope says from beside him, voice tight. Disappointed. "Or maybe you don't want custody."
"Of course I do," Frankie says with a flash of grief in his expressive face. "I don't wanna lose my fucking daughter."
"Then wise up and get the fuck outta here idiota," Pope demands. He pulls his cell from his pocket, tapping away. "I'm calling a taxi to pick me up from your place."
And like a good soldier Frankie obeys. He turns over the engine and he drives his truck back home to the sad little house with darkened windows. He does it because Pope told him to and Pope has always been there. A born leader. Someone that Frankie would and has followed into battle.
Someone who arrives every time Frankie falls. Who seems to know just when the load is too much to bear.
From behind his front door Frankie watches him load onto the taxi musing that this isn't the first time Pope has saved his life.
Three years later
"Daddy!"
Frankie gives a good natured groan as his daughter sails into the bedroom, eyes wide.
"What is it Mija?"
"Mommy is here!" Emilia cries, dark eyes wide and unblinking. Her cheek and pyjama top is smeared with blueberry jam.
"I'm up I'm up," Frankie insists, pulling himself to a sit. He looks at the alarm clock next to his bed. Seven am.
Jesus.
Maria is standing at his door, holding the screen door open with one hand and looking into Frankie's place with a critical eye.
He thinks she must inventory the sparse furniture, the children's toys scattered everywhere, the empty pizza box stained with grease propped on the coffee table.
His ex wife looks him over as he ambles to the front door, sees the days worth of stubble, the ratty t-shirt over sweatpants. He thinks she's relieved she no longer has to deal with him.
"What the fuck is this?" Frankie says, voice low. "It's my weekend with her."
"I know," Maria says, voice less acidic than usual. She holds out a Dunkin' coffee cup to him which he takes warily. He and Maria are civil to one another for the sake of Emilia but they don't do things like bring coffee for each other.
"What's up?"
Maria waits for Emilia to settle in front of the television with the muffin from her mother. When the blast of Peppa Pig sounds out behind them she begins talking.
"It's my mom," Maria says after a beat. "She's uh... She's not good Frankie. Doctor gives her three months."
Animosity is left at the door. Frankie immediately softens, brows saddling as he thinks of his ex mother in law.
"Fuck, I'm sorry."
Frankie means it. He'd always liked Gloria, even after the divorce. A woman strong like Maria but without the stubborn streak.
"She doesn't have anyone to take care of her and she's too sick to come here." Maria's eyes fill with tears and she blinks them back. "I gotta go stay with her."
"In Venezuela?"
Maria nods. "I need to be with her."
"Of course," Frankie nods, empathy pouring from him. "But what about Emmy?"
Maria looks around Frankie's frame to see her daughter parked in front of the tv eating toast. She smiles before looking back at Frankie.
"I can't take her out of school for three months," Maria says rubbing at her damp eyes. "She's supposed to start the first grade with all her friends on Monday."
"I know, she keeps talking about it."
"So I'm thinking she can stay here with you full time until I get back."
Frankie is blown away by this development. He has Emmy for two weekends a month and two evenings per week. It's not an ideal schedule but it works with his NA meetings and flights.
Talking her full time sounds like a dream in some ways, getting to wake up to her sweet little face every day? But scheduling will be hard. He doesn't get off until late some days. His mind goes over these details, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
Maria sees him hesitate and the look he's long associated with her comes flying back to her features. Disdainful. Angry.
"I don't ask you for anything Frankie," Maria spits. "I'm asking for this one favor-"
"¡Bájale! " Frankie exclaims, holding his free hand out in front of him like she's a wild animal he needs to soothe. "I'm not saying no."
"Then you're saying yes?"
Frankie swallows, thoughts racing. He watches Maria's temper starting with the tic in her cheek and he finally nods.
"Yeah, of course."
You're nervous.
This is your first year at a new school after moving and your first day nerves comes screaming back at you as if it's your first year ever teaching all over again.
You push your hair from your face, finding it already sticky at the temples thanks to the Florida air. You miss the weather back home in Chicago where the seasons change with a shout, not a whimper.
You try not to think of the reason for your move as you gather up your papers on your desk, smiling as the first mother and child approach your door.
You give a bright good morning before ushering them inside the classroom where coffee and muffins wait. Educational toys are placed on the far left corner of the classroom, sitting atop a colorful rainbow carpet.
You've gone to great lengths to make the classroom welcoming. Bright colorful signs, low overhead lighting, large open windows.
More parents arrive, mothers and fathers who greet you with increasing enthusiasm. Some of them look nervous, others look relieved, most just look bored.
The morning bell sounds and you're about to close the door when you see a man holding the hand of a little girl looking absolutely lost.
He's taller, his arms thick and his shoulders broad. Everything about him should be intimidating but he's not in the least. Maybe it's the casual clothes he wears or the baseball cap over his dark curls. Whatever it is, he feels approachable.
"You know where you’re going?"
The man's dark eyes flick to you
"My daughter's first day here," he explains looking flustered. "Got a late start, hair and all that."
He motions to the sullen girl at his left and you hold in a smirk at her lopsided braids.
Wife probably does everything at home.
"Her mom usually does all this," Frankie says looking sheepish. "I'm kinda learning as I go. This is the right classroom I hope?"
"Depends," you smile. "Are you looking for room 105?"
"Yep."
"You're in the right place."
He smiles thankfully at you before ushering his daughter inside while you turn to greet some of the other parents.
"Go on mija," Frankie urges gently. "I can see your friend Melissa is waiting for you."
Frankie waves at Melissa, a girl with wide glasses and curly blond waves. She gives a squeak when she sees Emilia and Frankie's heart un-clenches when he sees his daughter smile and wave. Emilia blinks, still clinging to her father's hand.
"Go on and say hi."
With trepidation Emilia gives a step and her friend’s direction before pausing, turning and throwing her arms around Frankie.
"Don't want you to go, Daddy!"
Frankie kneels, pressing a tender kiss to his daughter's forehead.
"You're not staying?"
You're back by the door, welcoming another group in behind them. Frankie shuffles to the side, noting that you're still waiting for his response.
"Uh no?" Frankie says, a crooked smile on his face. Is this a joke? Why would he be staying?
"Usually the parents stay for the first day since we end at noon," you explain to the clueless father. "We go over class syllabus and-"
"Syllabus?" Frankie's eyes crinkle in amusement. "This is the first grade right? They color and play jump rope?"
He watches as the gentle amusement drains from your face, replaced with a haughty inference. A face that says oh, you're one of those.
"I assure you I teach more than coloring and jump rope."
Frankie feels heat crawling up the back of his neck at the derision dripping from your words. He realizes now that his joke didn't land.
"Oh uh, yeah then sure," Frankie says feeling wrong-footed. Like he's a fake parent or something to not know this already. "Course I'll stay."
"Great," you say tightly. "We'll be starting shortly."
Emilia gives a happy cry, throwing her arms around Frankie's neck. Frankie smiles, pulling her up into his arms as he walks over to Melissa and her mother, Angela.
"Hey Frank," she says giving him a smile as he approaches, lifting the Styrofoam cup to her mouth. "Coffee's not bad."
"Had two cups already," Frankie grins, lowering Emmy to the floor. Now that she knows her father will be staying close by Emmy soars over to Melissa and the two begin playing with some of the toys. Angela surveys Emilia's hair and Frankie's tired face.
"Tough morning?"
"Yeah," Frankie nods feeling frazzled. He's trying to remember if he put on deodorant this morning. He hopes so.
"Heard about Maria's mom," Angela says with a frown. "If you guys need anything while she's gone you just let me know. Me and Terry are usually around."
"Thanks Angela."
Angela and Terry are one of the few couples that are friends with both Frankie and Maria post-divorce. That's what happens when you're kids are best friends, he supposes. Angela works in IT and Terry is a pharmacist.
Frankie is considering the blueberry muffin across the room when you go to the front, clapping your hands gently.
"Hello friends," you say enthusiastically beaming when they call out a warbled greeting in return. "Can I have all of you take a seat? You can sit on the floor or at the desk. Totally up to you today."
Thirty pairs of six-year-old feet go thundering across the linoleum, the squeak of chairs dragging and chirping voices swelling until you clap again in pattern, urging them to copy you. They do, many off-beat and giggling.
Frankie feels as Emmy pulls him down to the carpet, snuggling in the hollow of his legs as he makes himself comfortable there. Most of the other parents including Angela take seats in the back.
From this angle Frankie can see you up close, see the delicate embroidered roses on your cardigan and the way your jeans curve over your body.
"Alright class, my name is Miss-"
"Can I color?" A child interrupts loudly from the front of the classroom only to be hushed by her mother. Frankie watches as you laugh, no irritation in your features.
"When the big hand is on the two we can," you say enthusiastically. You point at the large clock on the wall. "Speaking of which, does anyone know what time that will be?"
A chorus of voices ring out and you give them all a patient smile before slowly raising a forefinger to your sealed mouth.
"Inside voices, inside voices," you coo. You wait for the babbling to dim before you continue with a wide grin.
"I'm so glad I have such a smart classroom! Now, when you want to share something I need you to raise your hand okay? And then you'll wait for me to call on you."
Frankie and the rest of the parents watch as you interact with their children while also informing them of what to expect for the school year. You hand out a prepared syllabus with suggestion reading, citing the children learn much more at home than they do at school.
"Reading with your child every day is so important for their development," you say with conviction.
"My Daddy reads to me!" Emilia says excitedly from Frankie's lap. Then she remembers herself and belatedly raises her hand. Frankie smiles when you give a genuine laugh.
"Well then you can thank your Daddy for helping you grow a big brain," you say, giving Frankie a friendly grin before going back to what you were saying before.
Frankie isn't expecting the warmth that goes along with seeing that grin. He hopes that with it the stupid comment he made earlier has been forgiven or at the very least, forgotten.
"Thank you for helping my brain grow, daddy," Emilia says earnestly. Frankie grins down at her, running a finger down the bridge of her nose, something he's done since she was an infant.
"Anytime, mija."
"Wish my teacher had looked like that," Frankie hears one of the father's murmur behind him. "Never would have gotten any work done though."
Several of the father's nearby smirk or give indulgent chuckles as you write something on the board at the front of the class.
Frankie bristles, shooting a dismissive look over his shoulder at the man before his attention is drawn back to you at the front.
The rest of the morning passes by quickly and at eleven you insist that parent and child alike take a chance to explore the classroom and all it has to offer. Emmy is very eager to play with the trucks as Frankie walks around the classroom with his hands clasped behind his back, studiously looking at the posters you've hung.
He hears you laughing and glances over to see you and a young boy chatting about something the boy is drawing. The boy’s mother smiles back at you, relief in her features.
"I'm just worried he won't make friends," she whispers when her son toddles off towards the water fountain. "He's so shy."
"I was really shy growing up," you promise, clasping the woman's hand in yours. "I promise you, no child is leaving my classroom at the end of this year without making a friend. And I'll keep a special eye out for Oliver."
You sound sincere and Frankie has had extensive experience with having to read people. You're one of those teachers who are in it for all the right reasons, he can tell, and the thought brings him comfort.
At noon you tell them that they are released until tomorrow morning. You remind them of the allergy list and once more about the nightly book reading.
"Even though I know some of you are already on top of it," you say flashing Frankie an amused wink.
Everyone begins to file out of the classroom, the kids chatting loudly as they make their way past you. Some already hug you, some parents commenting that they're excited to have you teach their kids. Frankie holds Emmy in his arms, feeling strangely nervous to talk to you again.
He approaches you swiftly before another group of kids can dart in front of him. You gaze up at his face, no irritation present.
"Wanted to introduce myself properly. Frankie Morales," he says shaking your hand, feeling the warmth of it before you slip your grip from his. "I'm sorry for what I said before-"
"Already forgotten," you interrupt with a smile. "It was a pleasure getting to meet you and Emilia today. I'll see you both tomorrow?"
"You will," Frankie says with a nod. He looks in his arms at his daughter. "Say bye, Emmy."
"Bye Emmy," Emilia says with a charming wave. You give a sweet laugh, waving back at her.
"Goodbye Emilia, goodbye Mr. Morales."
Before Frankie can tell you to call him by his first name another rush of students are calling you over.
Frankie leaves for his truck feeling his face pink at the realization that at thirty nine years old he has a crush on a teacher.
#frankie morales x you#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x reader#frankie friday#francisco morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales
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Morning workouts
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Vash X F!Reader
CW: Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina sex, sweaty, post work out, oral, doggy style.
Word count: Roughly 1.7K words
A/N: Part 18 of the series. AN early morning workout for you and Vash that escalated into something more intimate. This came from a yoga idea lol
Your forearms are starting to burn, sweat dripping down your face and coming to a point before falling from your nose to the floor below you. Trying to keep your breathing steady in through your nose and out through your mouth. Vash is panting alongside you. Both of you for very different reasons. You’ve been in a headstand now for almost half an hour, arms forming a triangle with your head as the point, while Vash has been doing one arm push ups. One arm push ups with his feet pointed to the ceiling. Without his shirt on.
“You know” you start trying to keep your voice even and body still while speaking “you are” another long inhale before exhaling “very distracting right now.” Because the truth is from here you can see the fine little rivers of sweat running down his skin and damn. It’s making your focus on keeping your core tight difficult, because a part of you wants to push him to the floor and taste his skin.
Instead of answering you, Vash just flicks his eyes towards you not stopping his movements as he extends his arm again, a small smirk on his lips. Eyes smiling, telling you he knows beyond a doubt how much he affects you. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was making some of his movements with deliberate slowness. You close your eyes instead of looking at him. Taking a deeper breath slowly lowering your body back down to the ground, or trying to before you fumble and land on your side with a squeak of discomfort.
Rolling over you press your fingers into your lower back, that was not a fun landing. “You ok Mayfly?” Having righted himself and unlike you not falling on his side, fingers running over your back and pressing against the skin “looks like it’s all alright.”
“Yea, if anything I feel more like an idiot than in pain” you glance at his face, concern painted there “finish your workout Sunshine. I think I’m done for the day.”
“I can’t do that.” Keeping his hand on your back he helps you sit up, a hiss of pain passing your lips. “I was a little worried about that” your back feels like it’s on fire, but the pain will just suck for a few hours while it heals. Sending him a look with your eyes narrowed, annoyed by how cheerful he is. “I have an idea if you’re up for it?”
Snorting you do give him your full attention “what’s the idea” for some reason you aren’t sure how great his idea will be, but his fingers against your skin are very distracting. And the sheen still on his skin from his workout.
“Stretching your back out” you could slap him for how stupid it sounds, and your face must reflect that based on the fall of his smile. Why are you so surly when your pride hurts? You reach out for one of his hands, running your fingers over his.
“Alright Sunshine, it’s not like it’ll do anymore damage. What do you want me to do?” With that his smile is back in place, and he’s helping you to get on your hands and knees. Knees spread out in line with your hips and hands beneath your shoulders.
“Slide your hands forward” doing as he asks and feeling strange like your body is in the oddest position. “Trust me Mayfly” you feel his hand slide down the center of your back and once at your shoulder blades putting pressure, the other hand keeping your hips in place resulting in your chest flush against the floor and ass essentially up in the air. “Now stay there” a part of you shivers a little at his words but you have to admit your lower back is already feeling better at the stretch. You hum, the burn in your muscles is just enough to feel it but not be painful. “Just like that” his voice has gone husky, and before you can question it you hear him taking a deep breath.
“What are you doing Sunshine?” voice curious trying to turn your head, body jerking forward when you feel him grab your hips, hooking his fingers into your pants, dragging them and your underwear down causing you to yelp from the temperature difference. Trying to pull your hips away from his grip, one hand pressing against the space above your tailbone.
“Stay like this Mayfly” is his answer, both hands on your hips once more, a hint of a command to his voice. You feel a breath against your lower lips and then a long drag of his tongue against your slit. You moan wanting to move but feel his fingers freezing you in place. “Keep your hips steady. I want a taste.”
“Vash, baby, I'm sweaty and gross.” You hear the whine in your voice, trying to pull away but his grip is a little too intense. Sure you might have wanted to lick the sweat from his skin, and wanting to suck him off is always at the back of your mind these days. Him going down on your though? You're still getting used to the idea of someone wanting to eat you out.
“Don’t care” his lips are close enough to you that the movement from his words leaves you shivering and twitching before his tongue is licking at your wetness. A moan slips from your throat, his tongue delving around your folds. Not able to see anything except the floor, hearing his harsh breathing and the sounds he’s making against your slick folds. You know he hasn’t done a proper cooldown yet, explaining his chopped breathing. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself as you close your eyes when he switches to running the tip along your outer labia tracing patterns you can’t follow. It leaves you swallowing hard and feeling the inner muscles of your core clenching. Gasping when the wet muscles suddenly plunges into you.
“Vash, please!” He ignores your plea, the wet muscle wiggling inside you forcing the sensitive nerves to fire, torn between wanting to fall apart from his ministrations and being mortified at the fact you’re covered in sweat down there. He’s humming against your skin while he works, and you feel his tongue twist as if to scoop some of your wetness. A loud moan ringing in your ears as you feel him pull away from your sensitive folds.
“That’s a good girl. So tasty. So wet.” You’re burning up at his words, body still in your stretched out position while his voice is deep. A brief press of his lips to your clit before he’s sucking on it, nose against your opening. The fire in your belly is starting to feel like an inferno against your misgivings, humming while he sucks at your clit pushing you over the edge. While the pleasure dances along your skin, body relaxing you feel him licking at you like a parched man that just found an oasis. Having had his fill and pulling away with a wet pop, one hand leaving your hip you think that’s the end of it.
“That wasn’t how I was expecting this workout to finish.” The sound of rustling fabric reaching your ears again before you feel the head of his dick pressing against your folds and smearing the remains from your first orgasm around his hot flesh.
“I wasn’t finished yet.” There’s an edge to his voice that’s making you twitch against him but he hasn’t pressed into you yet “want me to make us both feel good Mayfly?” Trying to answer him you press your hips back against his, to have his dick actually enter you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” A quick adjustment and he slams into you, balls deep making you both moan, the grip on your hips relaxing, one hand sliding along your skin to grip your waist the other giving your ass a quick slap before gripping your waist. Then he starts.
The first few thrusts are slow and measured, like he’s testing the water and once he’s content with the amount of wetness and how easily he’s glidings into you he picks up the pace slamming into you with enough force that you feel like you might go through the floor. “Vash” your panting trying to match his pace but his hands are keeping you partially immobile while he plows into you, grunting and groaning all the while about how tight you are. How good you feel wrapped around him. The angle of your hips means he’s thrusting deep every time, his dick causing you to make noises you didn’t know you were capable of as he keeps brushing your cervix. Clenching harder and harder around him, feeling how hard he is inside you, every pulse and twitch pulling another reaction from your body. “So deep” it’s all you can manage before you’re seeing stars, the roll of his hips having made you orgasm for a second time.
“Such a good girl Mayfly. Like you were made for me” his grip is getting tighter on your waist, bruises forming that in a few hours will be gone again. The only thing you regret about your accelerated healing, his marks on your skin are always gone by the next day. “Fuck” he’s hissing now, hips struttering as he bucks into your pilant body and you can tell he’s close. “I wanna come in you. With you.” One of his hands are at your clit, rough fingers pressing hard against you rubbing harshly and pulling you over that edge again, hovering between pleasure and pain at how quickly it followed your last one. Vash stilling, and you feel him empty himself as far inside you as he can go, slumping over your form and whispering your name and how much he loves you.
The two of you stay like that for a while, feeling him begin to soften inside your body, senses still humming. “How does your back feel now?” Words mumbled against the skin of your shoulders where he placed his head while you both came down from your respective highs. To be honest with everything else he’s done, you kind of forgot about it, laughing as you tell him so. Laughing along with you, he starts to lean back before wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you up with him so your back is to his chest. “Let’s get cleaned up for the day” you agree laughing all the while, even if your hips and waist are hurting more than your back was now.
Back to Masterlist for the series
#vash the stampede x reader smut#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede#vash smut#trigun stampede#trigun#twink writes#Bullets Bandits Ghosts & Typhoons#tristamp#trigun smut#trigun stampede smut
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐨.| (M) | PT 9.
synopsis; park areum is a small journalist who gets mistaken for a sex worker one day. she gets kidnapped and then given to lee jeno, an infamous mafia for creating war and havoc.
warnings; lower caps intended!!, this is part 9/20 ,action, fighting scenes, short love triangle, mafia romance, cursing/mature language, jeno falls in love hard, !jealous mafia jeno, enemies to lovers, smut!!, makeout scenes, gripping, degrading, praising, jeno is a bit of a dick but we been knew. park areum is a bad bitch <3.
previous part 8 link here! | masterlink to other parts here! | PART 10 HERE.
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a bright light slaps areum across the face, feeling like her mind was a small globe spinning and rotating endlessly; a striking headache impacting her head. eyelids were heavy, threatening to shut close again. the mental struggle wasn’t the only thing stopping the young brunette from waking up. it was physical now too.
the body felt limp, numb and furthermore quite doze. she sits up fighting through the crappy pain, a groan coming past her red lips, back and neck cracking in the processs. “shit, what happened last night.” areum said out loud.
eyes widen when noticing the place changing. areum slides off the bedsheets finding it to be her old bed. she slowly walks out in the hoodie she found nearest by and sweats. mafia armed workers walking downstairs, no one on the second floor because it’s prohibited.
areum was back at the mansion.
the girl skips along the cold floor downstairs. areum wasn’t sure how she actually looks but she is more than sure it’s not flattering, not like she cares though. areum goes down the marble stairs, running straight into haechan’s chest.
the boy winces when he looks down seeing the girl. “oh it’s you, I am surprised you’re still alive.” haechan flaty said. areum looks up glaring, great— that’s not who she wishes to see this early in the morning. “move out of my way.” areum said, haechan slightly gasps as he leans closer to her face.
“you move out my way ms black eyebags,” he points out dramatically. areum opens her mouth offensively. “no you move out my way and i’ll have you know my eyebags are sexy, now piss off.” she would gall.
a soft soothing hand on areum’s shoulder was placed, a taller male with light hair colour and the soft caring eyes would be curved into a frown when watching the tan boy in annoyance. haechan lightly gulps bowing his head a little to the deputy leader.
“jaemin,” areum quietly lets out. jaemin turns to areum with a side eye, “welcome back home, areum-ah.” was the first thing he says to the girl, he was happy to have her back and safe.
his words made areum’s empty heart, full of love as she felt her cheeks rose into a smile like a little kid would to their role model idol. jaemin’s kind persona he has to areum would suddenly switch in matter of millisecond into a cold unforgiving persona towards haechan. “aren’t you on house arrest?” jaemin said.
haechan nods slowly mumbling a disoriented ‘yes sir’ jaemin kept the stern expression on the boy, “then go back into your room and don’t come back out until me or jeno give you permission.” jaemin watches haechan go into the solider dorms as he said this. areum seeing the extroverted mischievous boy turn into a timid smaller beta in the same time frame was a satisfying sight to see from areum’s eyes.
especially with how haechan would often tease areum.
Jaemin finally turns his whole attention turn to areum where he now lightly exhales all the worrisome scenarios he played in his head all this time. thank god he made sure to check the emergency cabin home otherwise they would never think to check there.
areum went slightly shy when she felt jaemin slowly stroking her head down, the hand lowering on the back of her head where he now moves areum to embrace in a chesty hug. “jaemin..?” areum questions in the shy voice wondering if he was okay, the boy tells her, “don’t say anything please, i was so worried you died when we couldn’t find you or jeno.”
the girl carefully wraps her arms around jaemin patting his back softly against the black solider uniform. she would throw in a joke to lighten the mood up, “I’m not that easy to kill y’know,”
Jaemin saw areum pull away looking at him with a childish grin. “I mean you probably should know that by now considering I’m alive under the Mafias care.” she slightly rolls her eyes whilst talking and jaemin would shake his head, chuckling with his deep voice.
“oh come here you,” jaemin awes squishing areum’s face in his hands. “was jeno rough on you or anything?” jaemin alerts forward, knowing exactly how jeno and areum are together. by together he means they don’t get along on the best of terms.
areum’s simply nod caught jaemin in surprise. “yeah he didn’t do anything, we did our best to survive so yeah. Oh also,” areum calls out. “i saw an octopus and gun tattoo on the intruders.”
jaemin opens his lips in a darken expression now. “about the tattoo,” he stops for a moment. “i want you to forget about it completely. erase it from your memory.”
“wait what why?” areum quickly blurts out squinting eyes forward, feeling dishearten now, full of worry too. she hates to admit it but her curiosity is killing her, she needs answers too! she deserved to know after all she almost died out there because of them. jaemin shakes his head. “don’t ask questions areum it’s better that way for you.”
when jaemin saw areum trying to say something again he turns away to something that caught his full attention. “jeno,” jaemin suddenly said. areum turns to look to the right side noticing jeno in a white shirt and black trousers with a belt. the white shirt having 3 buttons completely unbuttoned revealing the chest. he had a chain around his neck and hair was slightly slicked back styled.
areum and jeno shared a small eye contact before his eyes travel to jaemin fully. “jaemin,” jeno said back. the boys shared their deep eye contact as if they were communicating telepathically. the two had such a strong bond that their words were not needed.
“jeno,” areum calls out catching the man’s attention. the man looks at areum no words shared. “about the tatt-”
somehow areum should’ve saw this coming. the whole atmosphere felt stiff, jeno wasn’t who areum saw when they were at the cabin, he was someone else now. he was the Mafia leader. jeno quickly disgards areum completely leaving her out cold. “outsiders should not ask questions unless they have a death wish.”
the black voidfull eyes filled with emptiness wide to areum’s doe-shape honey brown iris’.
those words were what he said to areum at the very beginning, treating areum as an outsider— someone unimportant and their prisoner. jeno walking away with hands tucked in front pockets with the two soldiers guarding him. jaemin giving areum a ‘i told you to forget it’ look before following jeno from behind with his own two soldiers.
the loud footsteps belonging to them fading the more they left. areum was left alone confusion and not only that; she felt so lost again. for once when she thought her and jeno had slight progress in their relationship, it all went back to zero once again.
areum was not going to let jaemin and jeno leave her out in the cold. she needs to know! this might just be those journalist urges but she genuinely does the opposite to what people tell her to do.
who is better to ask than lee haechan himself?
areum skips through the narrow shape hallway, each door was identitcal but had a name on it. she stops in front of the door initials ‘L.HC’. areum knocks on it earning a half creek open door with the tan boy peaking out.
his expression widens when realising its areum. “what the fuck are you doing?” he whisper yells. this wasn’t allowed, this actually feels illegal to him. areum opens the door widely as she pushes hyuck away into his room. now that she forcefully intrudes in the room she closes it.
haechan falls on the small single bed in panic. “areum what the hell, if jeno and jaemin find you in here you might die.” he whispers in paranoia watching his door. areum slightly crouches to look at haechan eye to eye. “i need your help.” areum hustles to the boy.
he breathes in, “with?” areum rests her hand on the side of his bed. “i need information on the octopus gun tattoo.”
Hyuck’s anxiety rose through top when hearing this. he shakes his head, “no no no no no, areum! you’re actually insane, mentally insane.” Haechan spat, sitting up on his bed walking around his room in circles as he spoke with his hands to the girl.
“that information i don’t have but its very fucking important like top secret. only jeno, Jaemin and someone else in the base knows.” he prates.
“who is that someone else?” areum raises her eyes in response, haechan holds his breathe a little before speaking. “he is… someone you shouldn’t mess with,”
areum gave an impatient sigh, “Haechan!” she’d shout, the boy puts his hand over her mouth to muffle her loud voice. “shh shh, shut up you’ll get caught in my room.” he spat.
“he goes by the name johnny, he is the person that runs the torture system. he is fucking messed up, everyone is feared by him.” he slowly explains, “johnny is rumoured to play with his victims before killing them.”
areum saw the fear in the tan boy’s large eyes, as if it was genuinely terrifying. his words were matching the timid and scared body language he gave her. she analysed everything about him and he wasn’t lying.
“if you want to find the exact information, jeno keeps his files in his room somewhere. pretty sure it’s underneath something.” he removes his hand from areum’s mouth. “whatever you do, do not get caught Aruem, it won’t end good for you.” he warns for once, he was being serious.
Haechan gave areum good information to go off on. she knew going into Jeno’s room would be easy because no one else is allowed on the second floor except for three people; areum, jeno, jaemin.
areum looks around, having a hand over the doorknob, she slowly opens it now entering the dark bedroom.
once areum got in she turns the flashlight on that she found somewhere luckily before going ahead with the plan. the room had dust particles flying about, jeno seemingly needs to find himself a cleaner, the bed was nicely tucked in. all his room was neat and in place, areum found nothing strange sticking out.
she looks under the bed finding nothing unusual there. she murmurs to herself, “haechan said something underneath…” She trails her hands on the wooden flooring. “he better not be lying to me or else i’mma end a bitch.” areum said.
her hands would trace on the floor picking up unnecessary amounts of dust and all, but nothing like a trap hidden door.
she groans, maybe she won’t ever find the files. areum lays down slightly giving up with her flashlight in the darkness of jeno’s room. that was until areum suddenly shifts towards the shiny area in the corner underneath the mirror.
she tilts her head at the sight of the shiny lock, areum hits the back of the flashlight towards it, breaking the lock open. she gasps noticing the white files.
‘okay so maybe haechan won’t have to die today’, areum thought.
the girl would sit on the ground holding the flashlight between her teeth tightly, she moves the light on the files as she flicks through the large immense of writings.
until an attacked image of the octopus gun tattoo came in sight, areum pauses not pushing up to see further information.
bold red lettering, ‘Japanese uprising group’ recently started hacking and overtaking mafia territories in Seoul at the sight of January 9th. leader identity known as ‘seijin’.
areum flips on the page when an interesting piece of information. “NAYOUNG DEATH”
‘who the hell is nayoung…’ Aruem thought, curiosity practically made her do this. she knew this was invasion of privacy but she can’t help herself.
flicking to the nayoung page, gruesome images of a girl brutally killed and tortured. areum left a gasp out, dropping the flashlight on the ground. the flashlight rolling across the room causing sudden attraction to jeno’s bedroom.
areum panics putting the files back into the hidden box and then shutting it tight. her hand reaching for the flashlight before the footsteps approach the door and open it with a swing.
the young brunette hid underneath Jeno’s bed, hiding every inch of her. she held her ragged breathe when she hears Jeno’s voice.
“sir?” one solider calls out. jeno looks back to the newbie boy soaring him a small glance. “you may leave.”
the newbie boy bows his head before leaving the room.
the room was still for a moment or two. Jeno walks out to the front where areum underneath his bed could see his polished shiny shoes. the woman felt like if she were to breathe or make a slight sound she would be found out instantly. her stomach clenched due to areum being on her stomach, the oxygen felt less significant from the small space underneath the bed itself.
the cold atmosphere drops once jeno stops in front of the bed immediately pulling in the veiny scarred hands, a deep grip held on her neck. areum forcefully pulled out from underneath, flashlight rolling on the ground as she looks up with scrunched face the moment the light hit her face. jeno darkly gazes over areum, taunting his deep husky voice at her.
“oh areum-ah,” jeno calls, shaking his head. lifting the girl he throws her on his bed. she sits up in panic, gulping. “i can explain jeno,” she said.
jeno was amused when he heard this. he leans forward as he took off his shoes, crawling on the bed towards areum with her wrists being pinned from above the head.
“explain then. what are you waiting for?” he jeers. areum feeling not only the dangerous gaze on her, she felt his skin on her from the way his hands clench around her wrists so tightly. his breathe hitting her skin so easily, it was so overstimulating for areum to take.
areum stood quiet. what can she say to explain herself in this situation? Absolutely nothing. jeno saw her uncertain silence as a way to suspect.
“seems like cat got your tongue huh,” jeno voice traces over areum’s one. “did poor areum forget how to bullshit her way out of things?” jeno spat. areum flinches with every word, eyes glaring at him with the disrespect he was giving her.
“this really wouldn’t of happened if you weren’t such a narrow-minded dick about this.” areum saying abruptly. jeno gave a soft laughter before racing a hand over areum’s face, grabbing it roughly.
“maybe if you learned to be good for once and do as you were told you wouldn’t be in these situations.” he said back. areum stiffens at each word, breaking away from the hand grip by pulling the head back.
areum remarks quickly not sparing a chance to jeno. “it’s funny how you always end up pinning me on the bed jeno,” her mischief eyes glued now on those empty black orbs. Jeno listens attentively despite areum being a complete cheek. “by how many times you done it now, I would have to think you want to fuck me”
jeno diverts his face closer with occupied smirk. “be careful what you say to me, it might just come back and bite your ass.”
their eye contact were locking in as if there were a key to it. areum felt jeno’s hands trail from the very thin side up and down, the waist and hips held as their bodies were squishing against each other.
“maybe i want it to bite me in the ass.” areum tells jeno who showed a toothy smirk. she wraps arms around Jeno’s shoulder slowly, waiting for his next move.
something within them both changed super fast; their connection was not the same as it were before. areum felt the intensity of how much she now craves him— Jeno was so lost in her it was impossible to control himself anymore.
areum gasps once the feeling of jeno’s lips latch onto her skin leaning wet sounds to erupt in the silence. her hands grip tightly on the edge of the white clean shirt tugging down onto it. jeno grunts feeling areum’s thigh moving up in between his hips.
the way she reacts to him was something he has never saw or felt before, areum sinking right into the soft bedsheets and pillows, as if she were floating in the air. Jeno’s lips were so powerful once it connects to areum’s soft lips.
she wasn’t sure if it were sexual frustration or the sexual attraction instead, but there were certainly hints of elements of it.
his lips smashed against hers, as if trying to flatten and destroy her mouth. She hungrily pushed back, her mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The curls edge of her bangs scratched softly scratch against his forehead as she gripped his head firmly, as if it were to keep him from escaping. She worked her mouth against his, their tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.
he was refusing to let areum win over the dominance, biting down on the inner lip, she escape out a gasp. his warm mouth marking her lips as his own by biting down on it temporarily.
the woman underneath him tightens her thighs on his waist once jeno pulled away, areum already half undressed and exposed along with jeno, he works his way down with his hand down to her abdomen.
shutting eyes tight a small breathy gasp came out of areum’s lips. jeno looks up in a lustful gaze, his fingers caressing her sex.
“oh god,” areum jolts upwards the hips, this felt so wrong but so right. just minutes ago the two of them were arguing, but now areum is letting jeno completely destroy her with his fingers.
jeno was feeling the seep of wet arousal from the panties rubbing down the thumb for a few seconds before fully feeling the naked clit and womanhood. “you’re already so wet areum,” his deep honey musk voice taunts her.
areum left out another gasp feeling one digit finally entering the desperate walls. jeno had her gripping the sheet just by the first finger only. he chuckles darkly, thrusting it in and one, the way the body sunk him in was amazing, it was tight yet pulsing like crazy. the effect jeno had on her was truly beyond his expectations.
he felt lost in the way areum’s walls sucked him in, soon adding in the second digit. areum moans out as she slightly grins Jeno’s hair softly now. “fuck jeno,” areum groans. he looks up at her humming deeply, “you like it? you like how my fingers feel in you?”
areum shifts her hips against his fingers, humming in response as she was too shy to respond. jeno grips tightly on areum’s thighs. “use your words, areum” he stops his fingers from moving so suddenly hoping it would make the girl talk, he knew the warm knot sensation build up in her lowering abdomen was going to disappear quicker than it was building up.
areum panics quickly gripping on jeno’s hands with a soft whine. “i like it so much jeno, please don’t stop— fuck. i was close.” she bites the bottom lip, watching the dark eyes glare right into her.
“how many do you want in you hm?” jeno asks waiting for a response, areum’s breathe comes out quickly in begging manner— she was so lost and fucked out in the moment. areum needs a release soon or else she is about go to crazy.
“all of them, fuck, don’t leave me waiting please. i want them all.” areum murmurs, watching jeno with such innocent wide eyes but the way her voice sounded was so lewd and sinful to jeno’s ears.
“You’re such a whore, areum.” jeno spat roughly pushing in all five digits, each thrusts bringing areum close to the edge. the girl was a moaning mess and at this moment of time, areum was glad no one lives on the second floor except for them because she could not contain her loud squeals and moans.
jeno had areum jolting and shaking by the time he made her cum twice. the girl wasn’t sure if she came the third time as she was wet all over. jeno licks his fingers before pursing them through the enraged pulsing walls.
he loves the way she feels inside and out, it made his mind ecstatic and jeno knows he is not the only one feel this way. areum pants heavily out, following a string of long curses “fuck fuck fuck,”
“I’m coming,” areum cries out, jeno hums a satisfied moan at the sight of the rushing arousal of her cum on his fingers.
areum had the most feverish cheeks as possible against the beautiful clear glowing skin and jeno had the most intense eye contact laid on her. he wasn’t going to look away from areum’s fucked out beauty.
the two share a final glance with their eyes, areum felt the orgasm peak, so she was out of it a little. but jeno on the other hand felt more confused by their relationship when he just realised what he had done.
he bit the bottom of his lips, blaming it on the frustration of not able to have sex lately. areum on the other hand (*no pun attended*) had no freaking idea what just happened.
she just let someone finger her! and it was lee jeno!
blame it on the sexual attraction? maybe, jeno has the appeal to get any woman. but areum is not the type of woman to seemingly get herself in these scenarios. the silenced spared between the two were broken when jeno stood up, gritting his teeth.
“you with me?” he asks as he notices areum break out of the pre-orgasmic post, humming. “i am.” she replies softly.
“good,” he lifts areum up slowly, putting the shirt she had on previously, back on her body covering her chest. areum slowly took a hold of Jeno’s hands as she glanced up to dark hair male.
Jeno thickly gulps. thinking, ‘break it off now, tell her it was a mistake, say it jeno.’ his brain said this many times to him all over again. “forget this happened areum, it was a mistake.” he tells coldly. areum understood why jeno said this— it was a heat of the moment, both of them got lost in each other. he was a mafia leader and he can’t have a relationship of any sort like this. jeno saw the girl give him a straightforward nod.
“agreed.” areum half whispered. why did it feel disappointing on her end though? and why did jeno feel confused even more than before?
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@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and plagiarising my work!
don’t be shy to reblog and share! <3
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Midnight Ocean Chapter 89 Notes
Please note that I've tried to provide content warnings for specific mentions or discussions of myths or topics that would generally be considered upsetting. But, in case, I'm going to reiterate some warnings here, because while I didn't expand on some of the topics in the actual chapter, I do so more in these notes.
Content Warnings: Ancient Greek mythology-typical bestiality, cannibalism, incest, abduction, sexual assault
“How much of eros consists only of this—this dancing around and around? How much of myth?” is a reference to Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson. To explain the whole thing, I would have to spend an hour, but a quote from the text is this: “For in this dance the people do not move. Desire moves. Eros is a verb.”
This is said in reference to a poem by Sappho:
He seems to me equal to gods that man
who opposite you
sits and listens close
to your sweet speaking
and lovely laughing—oh it
puts the heart in my chest on wings
for when I look at you, a moment, then no speaking
is left in me
no: tongue breaks, and thin
fire is racing under skin
and in eyes no sight and drumming
fills ears
and cold sweat holds me and shaking
grips me all, greener than grass
I am and dead—or almost
I seem to me.
Part of Carson's examination of this poem is this:
We see clearly what shape desire has there: a three-point circuit is visible within Sappho’s mind. The man who listens closely is no sentimental cliché or rhetorical device. He is a cognitive and intentional necessity. Sappho perceives desire by identifying it as a three-part structure. We may, in the traditional terminology of erotic theorizing, refer to this structure as a love triangle and we may be tempted, with post-Romantic asperity, to dismiss it as a ruse. But the ruse of the triangle is not a trivial mental maneuver. We see in it the radical constitution of desire. For, where eros is lack, its activation calls for three structural components—lover, beloved and that which comes between them. They are three points of transformation on a circuit of possible relationship, electrified by desire so that they touch not touching. Conjoined they are held apart. The third component plays a paradoxical role for it both connects and separates, marking that two are not one, irradiating the absence whose presence is demanded by eros. When the circuit-points connect, perception leaps. And something becomes visible, on the triangular path where volts are moving, that would not be visible without the three-part structure. The difference between what is and what could be is visible. The ideal is projected on a screen of the actual, in a kind of stereoscopy. The man sits like a god, the poet almost dies: two poles of response within the same desiring mind. Triangulation makes both present at once by a shift of distance, replacing erotic action with a ruse of heart and language. For in this dance the people do not move. Desire moves. Eros is a verb.
I believe Hades Game shows us that shades have some level of control over their appearance, depending on their circumstances. For example, many of the shades we see have set appearances, in a sense. The mobs have appearances defined by the state of their soul/minds. Soul Catchers are a good example. You have a bunch of souls “congealed” together, and they come to share an appearance (bright pink butterflies).
Another example would be Achilles and Patroclus. They seem to be frozen in the appearance they bore when they died. This is shown by Patroclus still wearing Achilles’ armor, which he died in. This can also be seen in how they are almost see-through until they’re reunited, and then they are given more weight.
This, however, is countered by Theseus and Asterius. Asterius absolutely couldn’t have been wearing matching outfits with Theseus when he died. This is clearly something he’s gained since death, not something he died in. I also really doubt he looked as healthy as he does in death.
I believe that this shows shades can and do have control over their appearances, at least when they’re in their right minds/the soul is in good shape (perhaps it’s also a specific right reserved for shades in Elysium). It may not be as flexible as the gods, who can appear however they like as Aphrodite and Demeter state in a conversation together (thank you @CrowLady0_0 for finding this for me), but there’s some level of influence.
I can’t find it now, but I do believe it’s also true there were ancients who had different opinions about what a shade would look like, as Zag describes.
Now, as this relates to Medea: It’s unclear how old Medea was when she married Jason. It’s a question that has and will continue to haunt me. Medea must have been reasonably old when she passed away, but how old, and how her divine heritage might influence the length of her life and/or how old she actually appeared.
In the game, Achilles writes of Elysium: “Greatness is evaluated here, by several judges entrusted to consider the many cases the Master himself cannot see to personally.” I’m not sure if there’s other clarification about this, but I read it as a reference to the judges from mythology, who Medea mentions.
The judges were granted their station due to proving themselves honorable rulers in life, though like most things in Greek mythology, this can be sort of confusing and mixed up, mostly due to the question if Minos is one person or if there are multiple people named Minos lol. Minos is sometimes depicted as a really shitty dude and other times as a great king (though I’m not sure if this could just be explained by the usual extreme variations in Greek mythology).
Zag mentions Minos offending Poseidon. To properly explain this one… I will need to provide some warnings. The light version is this: Minos, King of Crete, asked Poseidon to send him a sign to help prove his right to be king or something along those lines. Poseidon sent a giant bull out of the sea. Minos first said he would sacrifice this bull to Poseidon, but then went back on his word, wanting to keep the bull for himself. This inspired Poseidon’s wrath.
(CW: ancient Greek mythology-typical bestiality) Minos was married to Pasiphaë (Medea’s aunt, sister of Aeëtes and Circe), so Poseidon cursed Pasiphaë to be… obsessed with the bull, let’s say. This led to the birth of the Minotaur, Asterius (so he’s technically Medea’s cousin, isn’t that fun?). (end of bestiality stuff)
(CW: cannibalism…) Anyway, Minos ordered Daedalus, the great inventor, to make a labyrinth to put Asterius in. Minos had this big conflict with Athens, the details of which don’t really matter at the moment, so he ordered Athens to send seven young men and seven young women to Crete to be sent into the labyrinth and, well, fed to Asterius. Thus Zagreus saying Asterius was a cannibal. Anyway, all of this ended when Theseus, Prince of Athens, offered to go into the labyrinth and succeeded in killing Asterius. (end of cannibalism stuff)
When Medea says “Even the gods’ kingdoms fall—the Progenitors’ to the Titans’, the Titans’ to the Olympians’” she’s referring to the generations of deities. “The Progenitors” here refers to the primordial gods who came and ruled first (ie. Uranus, Gaia, etc.). They birthed the Titans, who then overthrew them. Specifically, Uranus was overthrown by Cronus. The Titans then gave birth to the Olympians, and the Olympians overthrew them (Zeus overthrew Cronus).
Zag mentions shades drinking from the Lethe to be reincarnated, and to be clear, I think that may come from Virgil (in other words, this may be a Roman idea and not a Greek one, but I’m not sure). Medea is referencing the shades you fight in Elysium when she talks about those who drink from the Lethe and assist in defense.
From the Wiki:
The shades of the dead were required to drink the waters of the Lethe in order to forget their earthly life. In the Aeneid (VI.703-751), Virgil writes that it is only when the dead have had their memories erased by the Lethe that they may be reincarnated.
Circe was known for her powers of transformation. Medea is specifically referring to her transforming Odysseus’ men into pigs when they reached Circe’s island. Zagreus mentions her turning Scylla into, well, Scylla.
From an earlier chapter: Scylla was a beautiful nymph. The god Glaucus was in love with her, and Circe was in love with Glaucus. Jealous, Circe poured a potion into Scylla’s bath and she was transformed into a monster which is probably much more familiar to most people. This monstrous form of Scylla is the most famous one.
Idyia, the Seeing: Taking this straight from the wiki. “Her name means ‘the fair-faced’ or ‘the knowing one’ derived from the Greek word εἴδω (eídō) meaning ‘to see’ or ‘to know’.”
Perse, the Destroyer: Again, from the wiki. Her “name has been linked to … πέρθω (pérthō), ‘destroy’ or ‘slay’ or ‘plunder’.”
In relation to Idyia, Medea is saying, of course, that her name is directly related to this concept of “Sight.” With Perse, she’s saying that the “destruction” was wrought by her power.
A part of Helios’ power/mythology is that him, being the sun, can watch what’s happening below and thus knows a bunch of shit. He has the epithet Helios Panoptes, meaning "the all-seeing Sun".
(CW: the myth of Persephone’s abduction/sexual assault) This actually means he was the only one who witnessed Persephone’s abduction by Hades, while Hecate was the only one to hear her scream. And while Hecate helped Demeter, she didn’t fully know what happened, so Helios was the one to finally tell Demeter who took Persephone and where.
Flowers Medea mentions
Green-winged orchid: A flower found throughout Eurasia.
Snowdrop: A flower that’s thought to possibly be “moly.” (From a past chapter: Moly is an herb of note in Greek mythos. It’s described as growing from the ground where a giant’s blood/divine blood has fallen. Hermes gives it to Odysseus to protect him from Circe’s magic when he goes to her island.)
Golden pea: A pretty flower that can be a super, super mild poison.
Iris (grossheimii): A particular type of iris from the Caucasus mountains. Irises can also be mildly toxic.
Crocus: This flower, of course, is important in Greek mythology. Crocus was the name of a young man who was Hermes’ lover. During a game of discus, Hermes accidentally struck him in the head, mortally wounding him. Overcome with grief, he turned Crocus into a flower.
Fritillaria: Strange flowers that are known for smelling weird, if not gross, and for being used in traditional medicine. A lot of them are also extremely toxic, or at least parts of them, such as their bulbs, are.
Milkwort: A pretty little flower the ancient Greeks thought… increased milk production in cattle? Who knows.
Poppy: A flower with all sorts of medicinal uses, as most probably know. Their seeds contain codeine and morphine. Their association with Hypnos is due to their sedative effects.
Honeysuckle azalea: From wikipedia, “The nectar is toxic, containing the neurotoxin grayanotoxin; records of poisoning of people eating the honey date to the 4th century BC in Classical Greece.”
Small-fruited cherry bushes: A flowering plant that can be used both as a medicine and as a poison. It can also be used to make a gray-green dye.
Wayfaring tree: Not seriously toxic, but just a little.
Valerian: An herb with various medicinal uses.
Whortleberry: Medea is referring specifically to Caucasian whortleberry. Big berry plant.
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Bikinis and body types
Buying swimwear has always been a drama for me. First you go to the store: you don’t like any of the bikinis they have, either because of the pattern, the shape of because they are just very expensive. You finally find a cute one, but there are none for your size. After half an hour, you decide to try some in the fitting room. You don’t care about if you really like them or not, you are just fed up. The fitting room is either dark or very bright. In either case it is too warm to be comfortable, and the floor is full of dirt. After undressing, you try to put on the first bikini. The top is too big for you, but there were no smaller sizes. The matching panties are OK, but you find them too revealing as your only body part that is feeling some breeze right now is your booty. So far, it overcomes all the expectations, so you leave it on the ‘maybe’ pile. You decide to try another one: the panties are too tight, to the point that you are half immobilized. You try the matching top and, of course, get completely tangled with the straps. There you are, sweating, standing on grime, paralyzed and helpless. When you finally finish in the fitting room, after expending all morning there, your self-confidence has dropped, and you are leaving the shop with an expensive bikini that doesn’t even fit you. Isn’t this the definition of success?
After so many summers going through this nightmare, I have come to learn that my problem is that I don’t know what I am looking for. Mostly I have pinpointed three reasons:
I get easily distracted by cute prints, even if they are kind of tacky when I put them on.
I don’t know what options do I have: what types of panties are there? What tops are comfortable, and which are for modelling?
What bathsuits actually make me look good?
The first problem could be solved if I had a clearer idea of what I am looking for… I guess. Regarding the second problem, I have come to realize this:
Panties can be average, very revealing or really reeeeaaaally revealing. I prefer not too revealing underwear, as I don’t feel comfortable being that nude especially in environments were I feel judged. Fold over, or high waist, are a good option to hide some belly but I don’t think it really suits me, as it turns out as a big diaper… Maybe for other people it is not the case.
Tops are similar to T-shirt necklines: there are asymmetrical, halter, with thick or spaghetti stripes, round or triangular cups. There are some that even look like a cropped top and show no cleavage at all.
And regarding the third issue, the answer I found is somehow tedious: to try on as many bikinis as I can to see what really makes me shine. In an exercise of mindfulness and body positivity, you have to go to the store and try them on, even as the traumatizing nightmare it is. One tip to make it less painful is the following: don’t go with your mother, or your judg-y friend. Go with your boyfriend/girlfriend. It is not like you want to avoid the harsh truth of your mother, the point is that a people that admires you (or is turned on by you), will teach you that your body is beautiful. That you don’t need to hide your tummy, that it is okay to have orange-peel skin, that your love-handles are lovable. This experience was what made my fitting room trauma less of a trauma and more of an empowering moment.
But talking about body types, the classic style theories aim to balance the shapes into an hourglass. Regarding bikinis, it is a path worth trying, in particular if you have no clue about what suits you. At the end I advocate that you should wear what makes you happy, but when there is no joy at all in the search of a bathsuit, a tip or two about what to try on is more than welcome. So here is a compilation of advice I found in several shop blogs and web sites.
For triangle shaped bodies, also known as pear, or spoon, you should try to highlight the upper part of the body. An option is a printed or colorful pattern, or you can as well use a strapless bra to show your shoulders. To distract the attention from your booty (in case you would ever want to do that) you can use solid colors.
For inverted triangle bodies, the body shape can be balanced drawing the focus into the bottom part of the body, using bright-colored panties and ruffles or fringes. You can also se asymmetrical tops to break your shoulder line.
For rectangle body types, you are invited to wear excentric patterns and prints to give shape to your body. You can look for printed tops with ruffles to give volume to your bust. You can also wear triangle cups. To make your hips look curvier, you can try low waist panties with adjustable straps or fringes.
For hourglass shapes, most sources just say, ‘anything will look good on you’, and give none to little advise further than that. This statement is deeply based in the conception that all the other women should try to achieve this shape and that is it. One reached, there is nothing else to do. But I do think that there are many hourglass queens that have no clue about what bikini to choose, and they also deserve some tips. The best advice I’ve read comes from Hunkermöller, a Dutch lingerie shop, that addresses that though you can wear whatever, you should really try a halter top and ensure that you have enough bra support by choosing the correct size. You may need an underwired bra. It also advise to go for solid colors, so there are no distractions from your natural gorgeous body shape.
I must disclaim that many of the websites also consider a fifth body type, round or apple. I do not include this because I don’t think this shape can actually happen in a woman body, unless the pregnant women, that for obvious reasons will have a waist wider that the hips and bust, or very old ladies that tend to have very skinny legs. In general I have the feeling (totally subjective opinion) that most shops and websites tend to ignore the plus-size women bodies: it is not just that there are no sizes higher than XL, it just feels as if they categorize all plus-size in the same bag and don’t attend to their specific needs. Anyhow, if you feel I should also include the round shape in consideration please let me know.
I’d like to add that if you want to improve your wardrobe you can also rely on color theory, which is an issue that I will further explore. In summary it tries to explain what colors suit you better based on your undertone and color intensity of your features. For example, it is not new that pale green won’t ever suit me, as it will make me look sick. I hope you liked this post. Summertime may be a difficult time for some of us, and if this helped you in some way to be more confident or learn something, I am more than happy.
#body types#bikini#fashion#style#summertime#summer#bathsuit#beauty#kibbe body types#rectangle#hourglass#triangle#inverted triangle
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SO I JUST READ A SCENARIO ABOUT YK HQ BOYS WHEN YOU PLAY WITH THEIR HAIR. WITH KENMA YOU BRAID/PLAY WITH IT TO GET HIM TO SLEEP. NOW ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS WHEN HE TAKES THEM OUT.
So let me just start from the beginning right. Let's say kenny has been doing long ass streams, right? So he's tired and chugged a bunch of coffee multiple times in the past day and a half he's been awake. His body just can't shut down. He can't even close his eyes, however you who is also awake, because you actually got proper sleep, and is just a night person, notice the way your room light is still on. So when you go into the room and see him looking around for his sleeping pills.
"Kenma, you know your doctor said to stop taking those right? So we threw them away." You lean against the door frame.
"Damnit. I can't sleep babe, the coffee was too strong." He chucles and drags his hands over his eyes into his hair.
You laugh and sit on the bed. "C'mere, i got you."
He walks over and lays his head on your lap. This already being a routine at this point.
So now he's knocked out as you continue to braid all of his head. Not tightly, cause his poor scalp couldn't handle it.
NOW THE PART I'M CAN'T STOP THINKING OF,
Waking up around 1 pm, Kenma looks over to see you laying back against the pillows tuckered out. It always fills his heart with joy waking up with you every day. The best part of his day besides getting to hold you, go out with you and everything that has to do with you. But laying here has to end as he has a meeting soon. Ao he gets up and goes into the bathroom, as he does he scratches his head to feel the braids you did. Smiling to himself, he looks in the mirror and examines them closer. Deciding not to take them out right away he goes into the shower and in the process his hair gets wet.
Getting ready for the day means he had to take out the braids and dry his hair. BECAUSE OF HIM SHOWERING WITH THE BRAIDS AND DRYING THEM HIS HAIR IS CURLY AND SOFT!
The sound of a blow dryer wakes you up and you see him in his sweat pants blowdrying his now curly hair and you swoon!
"Kenny~ you look so cuuute~" you're voice is groggy as you wrap your arms around his torso.
"mmmm, I don't look that cute, it's just curly hair." He starts to style his hair in his bun, but you stop him.
"Just for today, leave your hair out.... Please." You give him puppy eyes and he sighs, giving his signature smirk and kisses your forehead.
"Just for you, I'll be sure to let the hair dressers for the photoshoot know not to mess with my hair, cause you said so." He laughs as you make a triangle face.
All the moments he shares with you are his favorites.
#bunnix#bunnix writes#bunny rambles#bunny's drabbles#fluff#haikyuu kozume#haikyuu kenma#haikyuu#kenma kuzome#kozume kenma#kenma kozume#haikyu kenma#kenma drabble
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I finally found the Athrun and Cagalli pre-Freedom short story and it’s 4am, so I need to talk into the abyss about it.
I didn’t like it. End post.
I’m kidding, it was cute, but I'm not sure when exactly it takes place. The setup makes it seem like not too long before Freedom, but that doesn't make a ton of sense to me.
Anyway, the basic premise is that Cagalli invites Athrun to a restaurant to get his latest report from Terminal. They do briefly talk about the implications of the intel, but then she tells him she mostly invited him out because she wanted a day off to relax. Athrun mistakes her security detail for enemies and proceeds to make a scene. He pretty quickly realizes what’s happening, but says fuck it since she wanted a day away from her job and commits to kidnapping the leader of the country from her own security. After running for a while, he lifts her on top of a wall to hide and the guards unknowingly run past them in some Looney Tune-esque shenanigans.
Mu and Murrue are contacted by the security guards that tell them Cagalli is missing via Athrun kidnapping and they are both laugh it off. Mu says to leave them alone as they aren’t children anymore. Murrue says she’s sure Cagalli is safe with him, but Mu questions if ‘safe’ is the right word.
Cagalli and Athrun find themselves on a beach and enjoy a few moments of peace before Cagalli returns to her security and they begrudging do not arrest Athrun.
This was one of the little pamphlet stories they gave out the first week of the movie in Japan as sort of an early viewer reward. I’m not sure how 'cannon' it’s supposed to be (I'll get into that later) and full disclosure I’ve not seen Freedom since we don't get it here until May and I don't know Japanese, so 99% of my info is from fan translations. OKAY facts over, opinion time.
1. My biggest takeaway from the story is that they aren’t together anymore. The story is mostly from Athrun’s point of view and he thinks to himself that while he’s excited to see her because it’s been a while, it’s also awkward as they used to be inseparable and now they have work meetings. This is why I question when this takes place? They're 100% not back together yet in this story and nothing I know about Freedom has them 'getting back together' per say, they just are.*** I dunno, it doesn't matter too much, I'm just wondering about order of events here.
2. My second biggest takeaway is that despite the love triangle angle of that, like, one poster, Athrun seems infinitely more bothered than Cagalli does. Love to see it. Yes, I am a Cagalli stan above all else. Yes, I am still mad about Destiny. He clearly misses her and is overthinking everything. At multiple points he thinks/jokes about if her wanting to eat lunch with him was a "I want to spend the rare time I get alone with you" situation or an "ayye bro, I love this food and I had to meet with your ass for this intel anyway so". We get from his internal monologue that he 'desperately wants her to see this from his perspective' and I guess give him some sort of either hope she might still love him or closure that they're over. She gives him neither. I choose to believe purposefully. Come on, she has to know what inviting her ex-fiancé to lunch looks like and after Destiny, I'd like to think she's just fuckin' with him a little.
3. She asks what he's been up to and he starts to talk about his Terminal work with Meyrin and then immediately gets hung up as he says that, afraid that mentioning Meyrin would makes things awkward for Cagalli. All it does it make her concerned and start grilling him if something bad happened and if Meyrin is okay. He assures her that she's fine and thinks about how he made it weird by thinking Cagalli wouldn't want him to talk about Meyrin. Not only does she not visibly react at all to the fact he's still working with Meyrin, she actively brings her up again later and is like, "tell Meyrin I said hi and I hope she's doing great!" Athrun is sweating at how unbothered she is. Again, she has to be fucking with him, if only just a little. I gotta think this was written by another else ex-asucaga shipper that also spent half of Destiny wanting to straggle Athrun. I've read this fanfic 15 years ago, I stg. My people. Again, love to see it.
3.a Between this and the remarks Meyrin makes about Cagalli in the second movie novel, I have decided that they are actually besties now and I am not longer accepting any bullshit love triangle angst from anyone other than Athrun, thanks.
4. Despite what I may sound like in points 1-3, it's clearly supposed to be a very asucaga story. Once the 'kidnapping' starts, the awkwardness is over and they spend the rest of the story holding hands as they run through back alleys. At one point he's physically carrying her (during the Looney Tune shenanigans) and talking about feeling her heartbeat, Cagalli gets a drink that's literally called, "my first love", etc.
5. At the end of the story Athrun looks at how happy Cagalli is walking next to the ocean and thinks about how (as Mu pointed out to Murrue) they're adults now and how much they've both changed/matured. They part ways with Athrun telling her to hang in here and being satisfied with himself that he could make her day off a little more enjoyable.
*** Yeah, again, I've not seen Freedom, but from what I have seen, I have to assume they're back together. Why would Athrun be thinking about Cagalli naked during combat and Cagalli clutching her engagement ring while she prays to her dead father if they're not back together? That's on them. I ain't taking any responsibility on misreading the room.
From what I've heard, I don't think the Destiny callback memorial scene in the novel is in the actual movie because I've not heard anyone talk about it before the novel came out, I lowkey hope I'm wrong about that because it is a pretty good moment.
I'm gonna have to wait until I see the movie with my own eyes before I make any final judgments, but at the end of the day I'm so grateful to have more content of a series that had such a huge impacted on my life and I might remove the "ex" from my ex-asucaga fan status. Might.
I just want my girl to be happy.
#f: seed#freedom spoilers#god I don't want to think about the typos in this#also again huge grain of salt because I'm going off of fan translations#I have the zaft academy one to but it's almost 5 so I think I'll wait to read it tomorrow lol#too*
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Hi Lady Kenobi, this is Anon 🐸 ( irony of anon trying to differentiate myself from other anons ) I hope one day u be able to differentiate me from other anons just from my writing style !
Dam, It take so much shaky courage to type & send an anon msg (sweats)
🍍🍊🍇🌶️
🌶️ -the place I’m sitting at typing to you has this phase ichi-go-ichi-e
I would still ship you with Tymon L. Why? Because why not choose someone who actually beat silently Aemond or any guys first to everything ( practically actually the final one saving the female protagonist, being the first not second person to wish her happy birthday & meal & gift ) He plans everything practical logistics u need in life ( coffee lunch invites u to family lunch ) & also get rid of all your adversaries that stands in your way ever ! Although he is hurting so much inside ( the letters ) the only thing he lets u see outwardly is his grin when he is finally reunited with u. True there is a possibility of him disappointing u but there is also that possibly of him of throwing himself in the face of danger ; u having a chance to experience such a silent selfless act of love to protect u. He would be good for you my lady. Sorry for still speaking up for the underdog but I guess I’m a type of tymon lannister myself, a rare breed of a curveball. I know u hold the pen to his fate on paper. It’s a god like power u have. I don’t want him to die in the next episode nor tragedy to befall him in this fanfic of yours I plead ! ( audience plea ) If there’s a fan request would u also consider creating a totally original new female OC that matches his badassness, smartness, craziness & devotion. I know a love triangle is always a good read but a love quadrant is also a novel idea too! And maybe Elayna would realise how she has always taken him for granted all her life.
I love how your tumblr friends would tease u with brat & their comments make me lol many times. Such wit “love” & community spirit
On Starlight Kau’ra, Leena “It doesn’t go away, some parts of her doesn’t want it to. That’s fine. She can learn to live with it” this line stays with me forever. I wanna know … as time passes as all things does, how is she doing … ? The reason I ask is so I can apply this answer for myself
And also thanks for your selfie. You wouldn’t need to on tumblr. You look great btw. Like the phantom that never needs to be unmasked, It’s your writing and voice that touches the soul.
I guess the difficulties I face in life is still there, which I guess don’t we all do, that’s why we are all on tumblr. But your blog has helped me such that in the need to fulfilling the mundane tasks of everyday to survive, like the netflix I watch on tv, there is also an anticipation to a new episode /chapter here - yours truly anon 🐸
Anon. I really appreciate that you've taken the time to not just read my writing but also talk about it. That always makes a writer's day. I love the questions you have about Kau'ra and Leena
But. I'm not trying to be mean, and I do genuinely appreciate you sending in something for an ask game. That always makes my day.
All that being said. It makes me very uncomfortable that you ship me with Tymon. I'm fairly open about Tymon being absolutely awful and how he's only going to get worse. He is going to hurt Elayna physically and do so often. He basically tortures her at a point in the fic
I don't want to make you scared to send nice messages to people with this. But I do owe it to you, and myself, to say when something makes me uncomfortable and crosses a line. And this does that. Again, I'm not trying to be mean, I'm being honest with you
I hope you understand
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I Can't Feel My Hands
Track Five: When The Gloves Come Off | 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Haruchiyo Sanzu x f!Reader
Genre: Smut & Angst
Notes: OHHHHHHHHH i want him so bad help me
Warnings: toxic relationship, hinted baby trapping, love triangle, dirty talk, degradation, pregnancy, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, exhibitonism, mutual pining (i think??), drug use (ecstacy), dacryphilia.Words: 2.9k
You don’t see the way his eyes flit from side to side when you aren’t here. You don’t see the way his hair sways with each movement of his head as he continues to look for you. Chifuyu has been attending your fiancé’s underground fight club for just over a year now. It was a way to make some extra cash for the holidays; he could earn a quick buck while beating the shit out of someone.
So, he didn’t join because of you – but it would be a lie for him to say you didn’t influence his decision to stay.
Even despite the cool chill of the winter air, you are like a ray of sunshine to him. You’re bundled up so nicely in a plum purple duffel coat and a matching beanie hat. You greet everyone as you enter, full of smiles and adoration for all of the attendees. Whether they are fighters or merely spectators, everyone lowers their guard around you.
He waves at you, and you wave back.
Chifuyu takes note of the way you look both ways as if you’re about to cross the street. You’re scanning the room. He wonders if you think he’s buying your performative art. That you’re pretending to be happy. You’d lie, of course, if he called you out on it. Why wouldn’t you be happy?
He knows.
“You’ve been fighting already, huh?” you ask, taking his hands in your gloved ones as you inspect his gauze covered knuckles. Blinding crimson seeping through the ragged material. He pulls them away from you, laughing in an attempt to make light of his busted and bloody skin.
“Never mind that. I take it the decorations were your idea. They’re nice, probably too nice for a shit hole like this.” Chifuyu jokes. You nod, there was no reason somewhere like this couldn’t benefit from a dose of holiday cheer.
The fact that your partner agreed to liven the place up with Christmas décor was no small feat. He was dead set against it, at first, claiming it ruins the ambiance. There was no ambiance, just sweat, fear and testosterone. Just how it should be. But if people feel better, they’ll fight better. He supposed you had a point, giving you his credit card and allowing you to run wild and buy whatever you wanted to spruce the dingy place up.
“Oh, I got you something.” he told you. He began raking around in his pockets for whatever it was he had gotten for you. Your eyes started to vibrate; you could cry. He’s so sweet, so thoughtful, he spent his hard earned money on you.
“For me, really Chifuyu? You didn’t have to do that.” you explained. He was having trouble finding it, you did your best to keep a giggle to yourself as you realised your staring was likely giving him performance anxiety. “Fuck, who’d have thought a bunch of guys fighting in one place would make a room so damn warm?” you questioned, starting to un-toggle your coat.
And he found the box.
His beaming smile turned into a defeated one as he looked at you. At your body. You were unshielded by your coat and it all came rushing back to him. A painful reminder that you belong to someone else. He doesn’t know why he likes you so much besides the fact you’re attractive and kind. You’re his reason for being here. He’s your favourite fighter of them all.
Is he wrong to think there’s something between you?
“Here, sorry it’s a little… I don’t know. I hope you like it.” he tells you, handing you a box. A ring box. It makes your heart race. He bought you a ring. It took everything you had to steady your breathing. It was overwhelming. You were highly emotional and at a total loss for words. He began to laugh as he saw your eyes well up with tears. “Quit being a cry baby. Just wanted to get you a little something for Christmas, I guess.”
You opened it, a feeling of joy exploded within you. It was a simple gold ring band with a turquoise gem in the middle. He didn’t need to tell you, you already knew why he chose it.
“Your birth stone? Chifuyu…”
“Wait,” he instructs, fishing around his pockets once more. He pulled out a simple chain and held it in the palm of his hand. You quickly noticed the chain had been threaded through a ring like yours, and he picked it up gently with his thumb and fore finger. “I have your birth stone here. I’m gonna wear it every time I fight, like a good luck charm.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, for the gift, of course. But…”
“’m sorry if you don’t like it. But you’ve been a great friend to me since I started here and I really value our friendship. I think I’ll fight better knowing a part of you is close… you know… to my heart.”
You looked around the room dramatically, praying to God that no one could hear him. It took you no time at all to get closer to him, eyes staring at him with deadly derision. Too damn loud. Too damn stupid.
“Are you trying to get us both killed? I appreciate it, I do. You know how I feel about you and how much I care about you, but we can’t do this. We can’t do anything.”
And you’re a fool.
You’re a fool to think you could do anything at all without his knowledge. Whether he is present or not, he has eyes and ears everywhere. But today, he just so happened to be staring down at you from his office.
Sanzu likes to watch the fights behind the window while he sits comfortably in his luxurious leather chair. He can see everything from that window. You should have looked up, silly girl. If you had, you would have seen a tall, pin stripe wearing prince in his den of debauchery. He’s been watching you the entire time. Watching you with him.
Neither of you notice when he emerges from the room and starts to descend the stairs. A face like thunder and heavy steps to match. And still, you don’t fucking notice. Too wrapped up in your side piece, he supposes, or maybe you’re just that dumb. Nobody bothers trying to interact with him, there’s never any point when Sanzu has that look in his eye.
Your heart grows cold when you feel a hand slip into the small of your back. He pulls your body into his, you can’t help but laugh when you feel so awkward. And his glimmering grin is oh so fake. You feel his body tense against yours when you slip the ring into your pocket.
Don’t be shy now. You were both flaunting them a few moments ago.
He faces you, it’s a command for a kiss. And of course, you comply.
“You shouldn’t hide Matsuno’s gift that he so generously gave you.” he tells you, arms perfectly long enough to dip into your pocket to retrieve it. And you’re both cringing. He really did see everything. You really are fucked.
“It’s fine, uh—”
“Put it on,” your fiancé instructs, pulling apart the box to reveal what’s inside. And he laughs, as if the ring is so awful and pathetic. But it’s beautiful, you think, you don’t see what’s so terrible about it. “It’ll look nice next to mine. Take your glove off and put it on sweetheart. Now.”
You sigh. But what can you do? Only what you’re told. Always. Reluctance fuels the action as you begin to tug lightly on the tips of the black pleather. It’s agonising to say the least. Sanzu’s scarred mouth bearing his teeth as he grins from ear to ear in anticipation. Chifuyu knows what’s coming, and still his stomach is doing flips. It’s just so… real. Too fucking real.
There is a rock on your finger the size of the sun. A brilliant diamond so dazzling, Chifuyu is almost blinded by it. It lights up the room, and he doesn’t dare even estimate how much that thing cost.
“I don’t want to wear them on the same hand, Haru, they don’t go together.” you explain, preparing to cover your hand with your glove once again. But he’s too quick for you, snatching your wrist and pulling it towards him. He takes the ring, forcing it down your middle finger.
“Now now, don’t tell lies sweetheart. Look, it looks lovely.” he tells you, pulling your hand around to show it to Chifuyu. “A ring worth more than your life, the one I got you. Right next to some cheap costume jewellery. Hah. Balance, y’know? It works.”
You don’t want to risk apologising on his behalf. Not even a silent mouth movement. You hope your eyes tell him, though. They are filled with so much sorrow and remorse. He understands. Loud and clear.
“Anyway, lets head upstairs and let him prepare for his next fight. Being down here can’t be good for your stress, and the baby.” Sanzu announces. You hold your hand on your stomach, you suppose he’s right. And Sanzu revels in the way Chifuyu’s face drops at the remembrance that you’re carrying his child.
You’ll never be his.
You’re Sanzu’s, forever.
“Later.” Chifuyu huffs, heading towards the bathrooms to splash water in his face.
“Oh, Matsuno. How many fights have you got today?” Sanzu questions, holding your upper arm flesh in a deathly grip as he began to lead you upstairs.
“I’m going home after this next one.” Chifuyu answers.
“Hm… No. I don’t think so. You’re going to do four more fights today.”
“That’s not what I—”
“If you don’t like it, Matsuno, feel free to find another fight club. Another way to make money. And… better company to keep.” he finishes his statement as he references you. Your eyes flutter shut. Honestly, it would be better if he did leave. Nothing could ever happen between you. So why do you insist on punishing yourselves?
“Tch…” he huffs, walking away from you both.
There was an undeniable raucous roaring from downstairs. And yet, whilst with Sanzu in his office, everything was deathly silent. There was nothing but you, him and your erratic breathing. You were bending over his desk, one knee raised on the wooden oak and the other holding the rest of your weight.
He mocked you as your pastel blue panties dangled so raunchily around your ankle. What a slut, his slut. And he reminded you that you were his each time his hand wandered between swiping his thumb over your clit and caressing your swollen stomach.
His.
Only his.
“It seems I’ve misjudged you. I didn’t think you were as stupid as you look, and yet…”
“P-Please, Haruchiyo. ‘m sorry… What did I—”
“Playin’ dumb too, huh? Dumb slut, look at you. Pussy spread nice ‘n open for me. Gonna remind you who you belong too, angel.” he explains, coldly.
You shudder as you hear the familiar sound of him tugging down the zipper of his expensive designer trousers. Two fingers come down on your pussy lips in the shape of a ‘V’, each digit opening you up in a beautiful display for him. His gorgeous girls divine intimacy.
You hear a trademark, manic, snicker. It’s because of him, and he takes great pleasure in that. It’s because his bulbous throbbing tip slipped unassumingly into your eager, drippy cunt. Your pulsating heat practically sucked it in the minute he made contact. You know you belong to him. You body is his home and you can’t decide whether or not it’s unfortunate that he is the one who holds the key to unlock it. The one who deposited his personal belongings inside.
His hand finds your blossoming baby bump again. You’re only four months, but you’re showing so perfectly for him. He did this to you. And he’d do it again and again, if he could.
“You can’t be so stupid that you think you can get away with making a fool of me, baby. I just don’t believe it.” he tells you. His body is still. But a distinctive: shluck shluck shlucking tells you that he’s rubbing his length with only the head of his cock resting inside of you. It’s so nonchalant, it’s almost lulling you into a false sense of security, so serene and lackadaisical. It’s enough to disarm you; he’s fooling you to believe everything is alright. Everything’s peachy, you can at least pretend.
“Didn’t mean to make a fool of you, Haru, honest. H-How did I?” you ponder.
The sweetest little sound he’s ever heard, a gasp in the form of a screeching inhale, ran wild and free from your swollen lips as he sank his length deeper inside of your wet walls. He pulled out completely, earning a downtrodden sigh from you. The feeling of emptiness too much to bear. He leaned against the desk beside you for a moment. And in an instant, you knew what he was up to.
“Y-You promised you wouldn’t touch ecstacy anymore. Haru you promised. You swore when I got pregnant you’d s-stop…” you reminded him, salty tears welling on your messy lash line.
“And I believe you made a silent promise to be mine when I proposed, isn’t that right? I even knocked you up for good measure.” Sanzu states as he swallows his pill and returns to your waiting slot. He slowly plunges inside of you, right up against your aching little cervix.
“But, I am yours…”
“So why were you flirting with Matsuno, huh? Been leading the poor guy on, letting him buy you gifts. You’re sick, just a money grabbing whore. That’s the only reason you wanted me, right? For my money.” he hissed, bullying himself into you and thrusting against your sweet spot slowly. Each pummel is a targeted hit. He wants your head to spin and thoughts to blur as you try and make sense of his words – like he’s purposefully trying to trip you up.
“That’s not true at all. I love you… I—”
You yelp softly as he yanks at your hair and forces your head to smack against the window. You’re humiliated. It was already terrifying to think people may look up and see what the two of you are doing, but at least you were hiding your face. Now, if anyone were to look up, you’d soon have a gaggle of spectators.
“There’s your little boyfriend down there. Think he’ll look up? Seems like he’s a bit busy getting the shit kicked out of him.” Sanzu teases nastily as he forces you to observe the ongoing fight.
He was right. For as long as Sanzu had been tormenting your poor cunt, you’d spent even longer in silence in the office. It was a fun way of punishing you, he thought, the silent treatment always makes you work up a sweat. It’s because you never know what’s going on beneath that rosy, pink head of hair. In the deep creases of his troubled mind. He could conjure up any sick twisted thought in there. And you’d simply have to accept it.
Chifuyu was on his final match. He lay in a near death like state on the floor. Poor guy. It’s all thanks to Sanzu’s jealousy. His opponent repeatedly stamping on his head with his bare feet. You can see so many cuts, bruises and bloody gashes all over his body. You wish you could help him; if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d given up.
Your tears began to smear on the glass as Sanzu picked up the pace in his penetrative assault. Sweat coated your skin, blurring the cold window to the shape of your figure.
“I wonder if he thinks you’re even prettier when you’re crying like I do.” he wonders aloud.
His opponent is pulled away from him, and still, Chifuyu makes no attempt to move. He’s just lying there like he has no life left in his body. He doesn’t think you’re prettier, as he watches you get fucked against the office desk and window from his place on the ground. He just thinks you’re beautiful no matter what.
And even Chifuyu can hardly stop himself from crying when your body gives in to your fiancé. If he fucks so perfectly against one spot again and again, there’s only going to be one outcome.
You can’t stand that Chifuyu can see you like this. Coming undone around Sanzu’s length. Convulsing and eyes crossing as you give yourself over to him. Fuck, he’s so mean, but he’s such a good lay.
It makes you wonder what Chifuyu like. So soft and so gentle, you imagine. It would be so loving. You think he’d ask you again and again if you’re okay or if he’s hurting you.
That’s just the type of guy he is.
But, you suppose you’ll never know. And as he watches you reach the end of your spasms and practically collapse against the window, he supposes the same. You’ll never be his, and he’ll never be yours. He’s got the message from Sanzu loud and God damn clear, he thinks.
Maybe it’s time for him to find a new fight club, after all.
© 2021 fuwushiguro
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i’m FINALLY ready to be serious and take care of myself so I can be the best version of myself. I also want to be more feminine with my looks and how i carry myself. Any tips? thank you!
Hi there! First, I want to say how proud I am of you for deciding for yourself to become more in tune with your femininity. Here are some tips I can offer personally that might help you on this journey.
Become a more eloquent speaker.
Some people will say that to be feminine you must have very soft-spoken, but that's not the case. If you look at some feminine icons such as Dorothy Dandridge, Jane Russell, and Rita Hayworth, they had deep, sultry voices that were alluring and very feminine.
Make sure when you speak, you’re saying your words as clearly and evenly as possible to be understood.
Be confident in all you do.
Your body, your mind, everything about you has been wonderfully made, don’t forget that. when you walk, keep your head high. Maintain eye contact with people. No one is above you, and you should never let anyone try to intimidate you. Smile baby, you’re blessed!
On the topic of walking, make sure your posture is good!
Stand up straight, slouching and bad posture isn’t a mark of a feminine woman. Walk with one foot in front of the other with your shoulders pushed back. walk slowly, you are in no rush. Let people look at you, I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again: You’re beautiful ♡
Invest in your lingerie.
I’d highly suggest getting rid of any old, tattered undergarments. As beautiful as you are, you should only have adornments that are half as beautiful and of good quality. Now remember, you don’t have to break the bank for this. I prefer victoria’s secret undergarments to pinks. there are also brands like aerie, wear lively, and ThirdLove that have wonderful underwear! below, I have linked some of my favorite pieces.
Aerie
real power balconette bra (I have one in every color)
eyelash lace racerback bralette
new bloom lace padded triangle bralette
lace strappy triangle bralette
Victoria's Secret
lacie bralette
cosabella sweetie bralette
esme triangle bralette
wicked unlined balconette bra (I have this bra in the black + nude, soft plum floral, sage dust, and lace black. It's one of my favorites if you couldn't tell.)
Have superb hygiene.
Feminine women are known to be soft, supple, fragrant creators. Make sure you bathe daily. For your body, use a fragrant body wash. For your under area, use a white soap with no fragrances and no dye. Make sure you wear a deodorant as well as a beautiful perfume. If you aren’t able to use perfume, scented oils are always an excellent choice. Always make sure your breath is brushed and clean and smelling fresh. Make sure to always wear clean, freshly pressed clothes. It goes without saying, but top-tier hygiene is everything. I've included a list of some of my favorite perfumes for the spring and summer seasons.
Bright Crystal by Versace
Dylan Turquoise Pour Femme by Versace
Light Blue by Dolce & Gabbana
Lazy Sunday by Maison Margiela
Under The Lemon Tree by Maison Margiela
Si by Armani
La Vie Est Belle by Lancome
Be mindful of what you wear.
Wear clothing that flatters the body. They should accentuate your best features. Wear more skirts and dresses. It took me a while to get to the point of wearing dresses because I grew up a tomboy wearing oversized t-shirts, sweats, and sneakers every day. But now, once spring rolls around, my body is itching to pull out my light dresses. If I do wear pants, they're usually satin wide-legged trousers or linen shorts. I rarely wear denim shorts, but when the outfit calls for them, I wear them. I love sandals, wedges, and espadrilles as feminine footwear. I still wear sneakers from time to time. I have created so many mood boards that showcase my style if you're looking for inspiration.
Never stop educating yourself.
The mark of a truly feminine woman is an educated woman. Never stop learning, even once you get your diploma. Make time to read books, watch films, and learn about the world. A good conversationalist makes the most interesting of a woman. I love cinematography, so I watch a lot of classic films. I also am immersed in a creative space, so it's important to know things about art, history, and things like that. Find something you're interested in, and never ever stop learning.
Good luck again on your journey ♡
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𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾
character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader
a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)
summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.
genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess
warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n
word count: 3k
UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay
here’s pt 2 loves <3
- - -
y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention?
this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.)
she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely.
it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed.
it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end.
her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended.
bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right?
y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting?
heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care?
tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for.
y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating.
“you’re staring again.”
y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything.
“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard.
“so it makes you look creepy.”
“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.”
kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?”
“excuse me?”
kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.”
y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics.
he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.”
“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.”
he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though?
y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur.
“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again.
the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out.
the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance.
during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him.
mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n.
y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music.
friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them.
class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all.
y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance.
-
bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile.
she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red.
the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place.
bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.)
he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time.
instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape.
it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up.
as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up.
a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging.
whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder.
he swung the door open, hinges crying out.
bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted.
his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.”
“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?”
oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-”
“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?”
“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-”
“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?”
“no. shut up. i need to-”
“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?”
“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?”
“well, you’re just being shitty.”
“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them.
“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.”
“no.”
“please?”
“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-”
“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?”
bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips.
“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.”
he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place.
tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.
“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?”
“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back.
“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.”
“who the hell are you talking about?”
“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.”
“...y/n?”
“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?”
“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.”
“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.”
“shithead, get out of my face.”
“you still have to go out with me.”
“why the f-”
“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.”
“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?”
-
y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s.
he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets.
kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door.
“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone.
“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible.
“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin.
“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more.
y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room.
-
it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways.
kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them.
y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through.
between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer.
bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him.
“you okay?”
y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?”
“you seem on edge. is something wrong?”
“nothing. nothing is wrong.”
“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.”
“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.”
“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin.
“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along.
“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?”
“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.”
gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.”
heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?”
kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder.
this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.
kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable.
when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy.
of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring.
tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve.
y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough.
despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage.
“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry.
“just running errands together.”
bakugou? going for errands? with tokage?
“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space.
impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue.
y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist.
“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back.
“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.”
“good.”
“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual.
“do you think i fight okay? i need someone with a perspective like yours to know if i do.”
“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.”
tokage let out a low growl.
y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.”
ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from?
bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.”
y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close.
feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes.
it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this.
“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?”
“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw.
“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.”
tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face.
tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.”
y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.”
#bakugou fluff#bakugou#mha#bnha#bakugou katuski x reader#yn#anime#x reader#bakugou angst#kirishma#boku no hero bakugou#katuski#bakugou katsuki#my hero x reader#my hero academia#setsuna tokage#mina ashido#denki#kaminari#hanta sero#izuku mydoria#fanfic#fanfiction#slow burn#enemiestolovers#deku#uraraka#boku no hero academia
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Fate
Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.
Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader
Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity
Word Count: 5.1 k
A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!
Help me...
Please...
Help... me...
Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.
He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.
Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.
At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.
They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.
"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."
"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.
"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.
"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.
"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."
"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"
"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."
The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.
"You can't have her."
"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.
"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."
Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.
"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.
"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.
"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"
"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.
"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"
The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.
"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.
"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."
Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.
"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"
"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.
"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.
"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."
She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.
"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."
"You're Hades, aren't you?"
"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.
"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.
"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.
"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."
Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.
"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.
"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.
"That's one way to put it."
"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.
"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"
"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.
"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.
"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.
"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."
You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.
"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"
Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.
"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"And you won't taint my innocence?"
Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.
"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."
"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.
"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."
"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"
Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.
"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"
"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.
"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."
Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.
"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."
"Why?"
"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"
"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.
With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.
The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.
"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.
"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.
"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."
The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.
"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"
"Y/N, he looks silly."
"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."
Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.
"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.
"Uh, a flower crown?"
"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"
"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."
"You're an oddball."
You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.
"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.
"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.
"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."
You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.
"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.
"Our wedding."
You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.
"What?"
"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.
"No."
"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."
"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"
"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."
"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.
"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."
"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.
"Do, tell."
"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.
"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.
"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.
"Because I want that."
It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.
A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.
"Y/N, are you ready?"
"In a second, Hanji!"
"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.
"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.
"Yes. And she's not happy."
"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.
"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."
You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.
Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.
"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.
You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.
"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.
"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.
"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.
"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.
"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.
"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"
Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.
"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.
"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."
You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.
"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.
"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."
"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.
"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.
"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.
"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."
You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.
"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.
"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."
You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.
"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."
Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.
"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"
You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.
"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?
"Needy brat."
"Please!"
"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."
You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.
You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.
"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.
"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.
"You good?"
"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"
"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.
"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Good girl."
There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.
"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.
"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"
"Fuck!"
When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.
A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.
It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.
tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12
#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n#levi x reader#levi x y/n#levi x you#levi ackerman smut#levi smut#aot#aot x reader#aot x you#aot x y/n#aot smut#attack on titan#snk#snk x reader#snk x you#snk x y/n#snk smut#shingeki no kyoujin#fem bodied reader
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