#more likely they will post nothing at all because they like to make us look like clowns
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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career.
At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week.
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour.
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office.
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom.
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room.
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message:
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology.
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do.
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab.
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom.
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind:
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own.
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat.
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest.
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk.
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate.
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean, his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem.
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those muscles weren’t shy of peeking beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet.
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile.
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him.
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now..
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last.
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together.
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima.
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink.
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about.
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me.
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat.
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?”
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first.
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
“Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze.
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out.
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter.
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at the nape of his neck.
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate.
“I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants.
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often.
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand.
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through.
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind.
As he stood over me, I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink.
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer.
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around.
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that.
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air.
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often.
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way.
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock. At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body.
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought.
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked.
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek.
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press.
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers.
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover.
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way.
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once.
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled.
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?”
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips.
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own.
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths.
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin, pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I.
Men are so easy, it’s so cute.
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy.
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more.
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me.
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch.
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both.
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again.
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain.
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants.
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below.
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his.
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy.
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance.
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene.
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs.
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest.
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin.
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see.
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue.
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat.
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all.
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly.
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying.
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth.
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened.
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me.
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured.
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me.
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life.
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter.
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found.
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.”
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together. But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks.
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch.
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move.
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight.
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth.
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered.
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him.
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene.
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out.
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.”
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt.
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms.
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine.
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker.
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease.
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies.
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl.
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep, a burst of tears gushing over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him.
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth.
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down.
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly.
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!”
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
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would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?
alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)
hope this isn’t too much!
and you’re doing awesome!
thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3
An Out.
Law x Fem Reader
Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.
Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that
Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.
There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.
For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person. He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.
Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.
Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine. ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.
Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be. If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.
And yet… he was still pushed into this.
A date around downtown with this girl. She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say. At all.
First red flag: she mentioned her ex. Three times. In four minutes. Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found. Second red flag: the clinginess. Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground. Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word. She wouldn’t stop talking about herself. Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…
He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on. He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later. It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.
“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.
“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.
“The bookstore? What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout. It wasn’t a good look on her.
‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say. Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.
The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.
“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.
Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace. Out the window. Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement. He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear. His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible. He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.
She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.
If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero. His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought. Or at least, it fucking better.
His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10. It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment. He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.
“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side. “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”
“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.
To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another. And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.
“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.
Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight. With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork. He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was. He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books. The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.
But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.
Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.
When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide. She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Law cocked an eyebrow, confused. “Yeah, why?”
“That girl you’re with is making you miserable. You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed. Her eyes were clearly concerned. “Are you dating her?”
Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier. “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”
The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern. “Do you want an out?”
“A what?”
“An out,” she repeated. “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.” Time was running out. At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.
Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom. With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”
The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase. Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.
He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.
The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his. Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.
His first kiss.
“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.
The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return. “Baby, please just take me back! My life isn’t complete without you!” Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once. The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled. “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you! I’m in shambles! You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”
It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse. As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face. Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.
“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact. “I wasn’t. Until now.”
The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt. “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer! The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!” She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned. The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.
“Ugh, whatever. This place sucks ass anyway. I’m going home.” She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.
And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact. He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real. “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.
The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat. “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.” Her eyes were focused on her work. “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand. Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”
His jaw went slack. “Are you serious?”
“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip. “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time. I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time. And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”
Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma. He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was. He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many. Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked. He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”
The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through. Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack. “It… It was?”
“Yeah.”
Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now. “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”
Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him. “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan. Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh. She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.
“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself. He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.
She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again. “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”
He affirmatively shook his head. “Never. I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered. “Hence this awful set-up date.”
The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily. “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”
Law backpedaled. “What does that mean?”
She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him. She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment. “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters. And you like Sora, clearly.”
Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips. “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?” He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day. The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.
She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing. “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”
Now this was flirting. Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events. The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person. He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.
The girl excitedly revealed her name. “And your’s?”
“Trafalgar Law,” he replied. “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”
“No shit, so do I! I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement. “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime! Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft. “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”
Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer. “I think I can make an exception this time.”
The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him. She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.
Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter. When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half. She gave him a fond smile when he took it.
“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.
Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone. The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city. He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.
Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3
1125-354-9854
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#one piece x reader#law x reader#op x reader#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law#law oneshot#request fics
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𓆩♡𓆪 ｢better that sleeping pills｣ 𓆩♡𓆪
Hi! Coffee being delusional speaking! This time I was wondering
How did you deal with your sleep problems, dear?
TW: stalking, yandere behavior, delusions, insomniac reader, sleeping pills mention, somewhat willing reader, light paranoia?
Yet again another night dealing with insomnia, being told over and over that you should stop using the phone at night and, instead, pretend to sleep, that eventually dreamland will come to you like that. People that don't know what it is to be alone with thoughts and exasperation. But once again, you try to do so, hoping that maybe this time it would actually help.
tik tok tik tok tik tok
How much time has passed? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? You try to keep your mind on blank but it's impossible at some point.
An unexpected sound catch quickly your interest although you can't really recognize it, trying to dismiss it, thinking must've an hallucination or something outside, in the silence of the night, people tend to be more perspective to any sounds, right?
And just like a bad plot, once your body relaxes, you hear that sound again. . . Unconsciously welcoming the return to old habits, covering more with the blankets and turning around with the eyes still closed, as if that will make a safe shield.
Alright, this isn't your first rodeo, your brain's favorite hobby surely is playing tricks to scare the hell out of you. Taking a deep breath to relax once again, choosing to be delusional to forget everything has to be the best option right now.
What about if the sounds are because a stalker helplessly in love with you just broke into your house? A good night kiss on the forehead sounds lovely, maybe the dark romance or Tumblr posts are affecting your brain already but why care? Cuddling to sleep with someone that loves you unconditionally sounds like a perfect situation, you wouldn't really mind your sleeplessness if you could have that.
Although the normal will be calling the police, why do so if it's not a threat? In your mind, you picture your perfect obsessive s/o, no need to worry about being cheated on if the only thing in his eyes is you, no need to worry about being too much, no need to worry about his feelings ever fading away, isn't that perfect? Yes, it may come with some disadvantages like everything, but nothing you can't handle, you just need to love them, and they will be happy on a daily basis.
As you smile because of your silly fantasies while looking 'asleep' on the outside, you hear an even more unexpected sound. . . a whispering.
“oh, are you having a good sleep? It worries me how long it takes you to sleep every night, it's gonna end up being awful for your health. Maybe it will be better if I start using sleeping pills on you? You always do so much, you need a good rest, my cherry”
You stay still, unable to think what to do, a light but sweet smell invades your nostrils. Does this count as manifestation? Why is he already calling you by a pet name?
“My lovely cherry, my heart ache when I think about how exasperating must feel to hear the constant naging of those who don't really care about at least try empathize, if only I could help with something, I won't think it twice”
Feeling a gentle caress on your hair makes you wonder, this doesn't feel bad at all. Common sense screaming that you need to worry but the warm feeling of his touch disperse that though faster than you're willing to admit.
“Mmm, maybe my desires are taking over my brain already? But I think a perfect medicine for you will be if you snuggle in my embrace, I promise to have the right temperature for you to be comfy all night… if you just let me kiss that addictive face of yours, it will be enough payment for even my soul if you wish to have it”
His voice… sounds familiar, do you know him?
Even if you recognize that self-preservation should be a top priority, it's hard to care when his voice is this honeyed, using the exact words that attract you like a bee as if he can read your mind. As you feel a faint kiss on the top of your head, you start to ask yourself…
Is bad manners not to reply when someone speaks to you, isn't it? Or maybe it's better to keep pretending to sleep to see what he usually does?
Decisions decisions…
➤ keep pretending
Say something
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
#pineapple our oc#Coffee speaking#yandere#random#yandere male#yandere imagines#yandere drabble#yandere oc#oc#male yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#obsessive love#yandere classmate#otome#yandere x willing reader#stalker#tw stalking#soft yandere#yandere writing#drabble#silly#silly writing
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Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.
For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.
Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.
It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!
Hi!
"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.
In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.
It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.
Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.
Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.
The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.
"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."
This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?
"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."
This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.
This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.
I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!
mod Sasza
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Mattheo Riddle Headcannons
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Being the son of the Dark Lord is no easy task. Obviously.
Growing up, Mattheo had very limited contact with other people, which stunts his social skills a lot, especially with his peers
Once he breaks out and has the ability to meet other people, he's 100% an extrovert because he feels like he has to make up for everything that he missed out on
Growing up alone though made him very independent and self sufficient
Lots of trust issues, lots of abandonment issues
But he's also very bad at picking up on social cues, and reading other people's emotions
He grew up being outwardly judged by everyone around him, which caused him to develop a sort of apathetic attitude as a buffer
This gives him a sense of freedom because if he doesn't care about other's opinions, he can do whatever he wants, they'll judge him either way, so why not do what makes him happy
Mattheo also has a deep internal rage
Like, level 11 out of 10 on the scale of anger issues
He bottles up all his emotions and frustration with the world, often lashing out and exploding at the smallest triggers
His frustration mostly stems from the fact that it's not fair that he's suffering for the actions of his father. Because at the end of the day, he's still innocent in all of it
This is also why he's particularly spiteful and disdainful of authoritarian figures
He simply doesn't owe them anything
At Hogwarts it's hard for him at first. It's pretty clear that he didn't have much of a childhood and that he was forced to grow up much too fast
And once again, he finds himself being judged by everyone, so nothing new
His biggest pet peeve is when someone complains about a minor "tragedy" from their childhood, because he's absolutely certain that he had it worse
Lowkey victim complex™️
He's able to eventually bond closely with Theodore Nott, sharing a lot of similar childhood trauma (we <3 trauma bonding) and surprisingly Lorenzo Berkshire who shares his fuck-all mentality
Many assume that he's a malicious bully, based solely on his last name, but he's really more of a chaos instigator
He rebels against authority and stands up for what he might find to be an injustice, but he'd never go after someone without cause
Hogwarts is one of the first places he's able to truly act his age
He joins the Slytherin quidditch team,
He's a beater (which is kind of therapeutic as it allows him to let out a lot of his anger)
Often skives off of class,
He's not book smart like Theo, but makes up for it with street smarts
And likes to pull Theo into the fray simply because he can
This is also how he gets his reputation for frequently sleeping around to put it nicely
Mattheo grew up with a distinct lack of affection from those around him which causes him to search out any hint of it that he can find
He doesn't really use girls per se, he just doesn't quite understand the concept of love
But when Mattheo falls, he falls hard
The first time he catches feelings, he's absolutely terrified that he's under the influence of a love potion
Very confused, very upset, and denies it to the ends of the Earth
But once he comes around, he's all in
He doesn't like to think of himself as jealous, just territorial.
Jealousy is when something isn't yours and you want it. But you belong to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his territory
He also isn't shy at all when it comes to PDA, simply because he wants everyone to know what's his
Definitely love bombs, but he doesn't know what that means
Won't bat an eye before hexing someone for looking at you too long (will act innocent and pretend it wasn't him)
Honestly probably would not be the best partner initially because he's so used to being independent
And would likely try to hide a lot of his anger and emotions from you because his biggest fear would be being judged by someone he loves
It would take a lot of time and effort to work through, but Mattheo would be willing to put in the work because he's determined to have the one thing his father never could
#slytherin boys#slytherin#matteo riddle#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle headcanon#mattheo riddle headcanons#harry potter universe#my boy desperately needs therapy
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★ lovely ; james potter.
info: comfort, james potter x fem!reader, under 1k.
your head nuzzles into james' neck, inhaling greedily. "you smell good..." you sigh dreamily, nails raking the tiny curls at the base of his neck.
"yeah? i took a shower earlier... used that lavender soap you like," he hums while adjusting at the duvet. he huffs softly, unsure whether the cold touch of the wall that digs into his side annoys him more or the small amount of bedding left.
he tugs at the thick blanket as if attempting to get comfortable but you choose to not think much of it. in your mind, he fancies your cuddles, your affection, like he does every day.
after few seconds of finagling and a growing frown of frustration, "can you back up just a little bit? you've left me no space and this window sill is just stabbing my side like mad..." he groans.
you pout slightly, cheeks flushing a soft hue that closely resembles one of embarrassment. "sorry," you reply softly, body rolling over before scooting towards the opposite end of the bed.
"oh, love..." he makes an awfully sweet crooning sound, lips matching your bitty frown as you hug the bunched up duvet in your arms as if wired to cuddle something, to cuddle james.
james sighs, inching closer till your back meets his front. toned arms wrap around your midriff in attempt to apologize further.
"'m sorry, i didn't mean to be all over you." you speak understandingly, barely there and james feels his heart crack into trillions of pieces.
because here you are, being his undoubtedly sweet girl, showering him in your love that it makes his own affection cower next to yours.
"it's not your fault, baby. i dunno' why i spoke that way, 'm sorry." he speak weakly, as if barely noticing his original tone of voice.
you hum, "you seemed like you had a rough day... cuddles always seem to do the trick, but i guess today's different and that's okay." your voice is nothing but a squeak, soft and meek in a way that makes james believe that you'd rather not upset him again.
he's quick to prove otherwise as he showers your nape and cheek with the sweetest of kisses, soft lips against your supple skin.
"i'm not mad, my beautiful girl. you're so kind, always caring for others, thank you for the cuddles!" he lays it on thick, tone drenched in the finest of honey from the most richest of hives.
you giggle as his kisses grow tenfold, thicker fingers tickling at your waist. "jamie!" you laugh, swatting at his wrists with no real defense, more or less for show.
laughter and tickles turn to soft grazes and a love-sick gaze that makes you melt into the sheets like putty.
"why're you looking at me like that?" you whisper, thumb grazing his hairline absentmindedly.
"'cause you're lovely," he whispers back.
"you're lovely," you quip back with ease.
"nuh-uh, sweet girl. you're definitely loveliest." he coos.
★ diwa's notes: haiii this is my first post in ages and i'm super nervous bc ik my small amount of followers are def gone bc this isn't atwow TT this was just something sitting in my drafts so i hope ppl enjoy it :3 (and ellecdc if ur reading this which is a very low chance, ty for ur advice 🤍)
© hobietopia 2024.
#★ amortentia ; james.#★ comfort.#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter comfort#james potter masterlist#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#marauders x you#marauders masterlist
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Regrets: cbf!soap x f!reader
2023
Soap was torn between whether he should throw away the picture or keep it. He should throw it away, it had cockblocked him but the longer he stared, the more he just couldn't make himself do it.
It was a picture of you and him together. He hadn't seen it for years and he was honestly caught off guard when he caught a glimpse of it underneath all the junk he had shoved into his desk...which included the condoms he was about to use.
Now you were on his mind at the worst time possible.
"Everything okay?" The woman he snuck on base, Cady, wondered expectantly from his bed.
Fuck.
His stomach dropped and he almost felt nauseous. This felt like a stupid idea despite the fact that he did this often whenever he knew he wasn't going to be deployed soon.
"Yeah, 'course, just want to keep ya waiting." He teased, trying his best to put on a show.
"Not for too long."
He sighed and took one last glance at the photo before he shoved it back into the drawer. He grabbed a condom and quickly tried to force himself back into the headspace he had when sneaking Cady in.
The sex went by in a blur, though she seemed pretty satisfied as she gave him a kiss before he snuck her back out of the base. He almost couldn't remember any details as he stood outside in the cold night with a cigarette in between his fingers.
Seven years.
That's how long it had been seen he'd seen or spoken to you.
Of course, seven years wasn't how long it had been seen he last thought about you. Tonight was the first time in about a week, your entire being popping up in his mind often with little and big things he encounters through his day to day. It was only natural considering he spent two decades of his life with you.
He huff and smoke curled out of his mouth. He ran a hand through his mohawk, tugging at the short strands of hair as he stared off into nothing.
An emptiness had settled inside him since he saw the photo. It was the same emptiness that consumed him when he thought about you late at night, the same regret that he ran from so often.
What were you doing? Did you have a good job that paid you well, that hopefully didn't treat you like shit? Where were you living? Who were you living with? He could remember seeing something about a boyfriend on one of your socials.
Soap grabbed his phone and went to his socials before he stopped himself.
There was no sense in torturing himself over this again. Not when he had to focus on his job, not when this was his fault.
He stomped out his cigarette and went back to his room, getting ready for tomorrow as he quickly the changed the sheets and took a shower. However for the rest of the night his mind raced with thoughts about you, unable to fall asleep as he tossed and turned while fighting against looking at his phone.
The next morning wasn't any better.
The urge to check his phone, to look at you again and to know more about what was going on latched onto him. He tried his best to ignore it and did well enough, though he did find himself slipping his hand into his pocket a few times before stopping himself.
Usually he was good at keeping his thoughts away and not indulging in them but when it came to you? All of that flew out the window.
Soap was in the gym when he came to a realization that made his heart dropped.
You got engaged last year.
He remembers you posting about it and he remembers how much it hurt to read it.
He quickly threw down his weights the best he could and pulled out his phone, almost frantically going to your socials to see if you had gotten married yet, even going so far as to check out your mother's socials too.
However, your latest post was from before you got engaged, nearly two years ago now and there was nothing about any engagement on your mother's either. All evidence of it had disappeared.
He didn't know what to think. It could mean anything and he wasn't going to jump to conclusions about whether that meant if it had gotten broken off or not because he secretly wanted that. Regardless there wasn't much relief, especially as he began to look through your photos again.
You looked happy in them and fucking beautiful. It didn't matter what setting, what occasion, every picture you posted of yourself was pretty than the last.
It made his heart heavy.
He was missing every milestone. He had no clue what was going on in your life because he stopped talking to you. He made the two of you become strangers, and while he loved his job and found happy moments, you seemed to be doing a lot better than he was.
Good.
If he was still in your life he knew how miserable you'd be. He could only think of how angry you'd be at him, how you'd probably stress yourself into health problems because of him. You probably resented him but he was okay with that.
You were a lot happier now and that's all he could selfishly ask for.
Soap scrolled through your photos, staring at you because this was the closest he'd get to ever seeing you again. He couldn't help but wonder why you stopped posting.
"Already with a new girl? The last one had you that pent up, huh?" Gaz teased and he felt his cheeks go red before he gave him a quick glare.
"Fuck off." He huffed and Gaz chuckled as he leaned over to get a better look.
"Well who is she then?"
Soap wiped some of the sweat off his forehead as he glanced between Gaz and you on his phone. He almost wanted to put his phone away and genuinely tell Gaz to going away but he didn't. Instead he just shrugged.
"We grew up together." He explained and couldn't help but smile. "Practically glued to each other."
"Something happen?" Gaz wondered and his smile fell.
"We grew apart. Lifestyles couldn't mix."
"That's rough."
Soap hummed and put his phone away. He knew it was a bad idea looking at your photos and now he just couldn't help but feel the regret in his stomach. No matter how much he tried to tell himself it was for the best, he just couldn't believe it.
"If you miss her that bad you should try to reach out." Gaz said but Soap shook his head.
"Nah, she probably deleted my number. Doubt she'd want to talk to me anyway." He tried not to let it show how that hurt him as he picked up the weights again.
You did it to yourself. It was what he told himself whenever he began to feel this way about you. He made the decision, he couldn't go back on it.
Even when he was laying in bed later that night staring up at his phone, his fingers hovering above the keyboard. The last time he texted you was seven years ago, the last time he texted you was something completely random.
What would he even say? There was nothing he could say that would make up for the last seven years of no contact. There was no amount of friendliness that could make up for what he did.
If he said something he couldn't help but imagine how angry you'd be.
Shame washed over him and he set his phone down as he stared at the ceiling. It was better this way. It had to be.
~
Gunfire filled the air and Soap's heart raced. He kept his attention on the bomb he was disarming while the other's kept the heat off him. Despite the adrenaline running through him, his fingers were steady and his mind was focused on the bomb.
He was quick in cutting the wires and inputting the right codes to disarm it before it went off, killing more than just his team.
Just as the timer stopped ticking, he felt a bullet graze the top of his shoulder and he ducked for cover. He quickly grabbed his gun and shot at his assailants, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder.
His eyes caught onto their main target, Makarov.
In that moment he watched the terrorist grab his hand gun and shoot a bullet point blank into Price's abdomen. His blood went cold and he ran towards him without a second thought, firing his weapon into Makarov's back.
Yet when he got close, Makarov punched him in the face and grabbed his arm. He was pulled back, a sickening pop resonating from his shoulder and he felt the warm metal of the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.
He moved and the gun went off.
Tags are closed!
A/n: don't worry guys Mak did not survive don't worry your pretty heads about anything else :) (Soap’s not dead it's okay I just like a little bit of drama)
Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @cod-z @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize @raeyas-ghost
#cbf!soap#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x you#soap x reader#soap x you#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x you#john soap mactavish#modern warfare#cod#call of duty
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Queen of Tears really just took a sharp nosedive off a very steep cliff these past 3 episodes. I didn't post anything about the last two episodes since there was nothing to say. I've had issues with some aspects of the drama that I could overlook because Hae In and Hyun Woo were top tier stuff. The break down of a marriage of two people who loved one another finding their way back to each other through medical crisis was so good. It didn't even need the Eun Sung or the family business stuff (it would have made a tighter, more coherent drama but I digress). But the last 3 or so episodes I've lost all patience. We've had:
Hae In's miraculous brain surgery which required no shaving of the hair, which I can overlook because it is a drama. Her memory loss too, as again, it's a drama and it's been hinted at since the beginning. I'm not necessarily thrilled with it but it's fine.
There is no way that Eun Sung would have suddenly become her legal guardian just because Hyun Woo left. It makes NO SENSE. Hae In was clearly there with Hyun Woo. They met with her doctors. There would have been forms and documents signed, with appropriate translators for any language barriers. Eun Sung would not have been able to waltz in and say I am her guardian now. I'm fairly confident of this even without knowing German law.
Hae In's family had people in Germany following her for...reasons??? They did nothing to protect her from Eun Sung? They didn't go to her when Hyun Woo was carted off? To be fair I was kinda fast forwarding part so maybe I missed something.
Hyun Woo's arrest, extradition back to South Korea, finding the evidence to break his case, trail, release and then arrest of the real perpetrator all took place within a month. Which seems absurdly fast. Also they found and arrested the hired hit man but not who hired him??
Hae In is following Hyun Woo, taking notes to figure stuff out for herself yet does not think to look herself up on the internet? Pretty sure there would have been articles about her saying Eun Sung threatened her?
I generally forgive the burned notebook finding its way back to her.
Also, Hyun Woo's sister is married? With a kid? Living overseas?? and we find this out in ep 13 or 14? No pictures of her kid anywhere?? No phone call?
Hyun Woon has been hit by car, by Eun Sung because of course that happened. At least he won't get amnesia, right? RIGHT?
What a mess.
I still stand by the core story of Hyun Woo and Hae In being the strongest parts, even within the past 3 episodes.
How much do you want to bet they are not even going to address the miscarriage, which was catalyst for their whole marriage falling apart in the final episode. Despite the 1031 being used for pass codes. I've been wanting that from when we found out and it looks like it won't happen. Who knows if Hae In will even get her memory back.
The preview for the final episode doesn't give me much hope, even if we get a nearly 2 hr final episode like Crash Landing on You.
So much wasted potential in the drama. If only they had focused on Hae In and Hyun Woo, and not 20+ other plots.
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I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.
Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim
warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)
Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.
He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.
On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.
Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.
a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!
Yours, truly,
–Dolly
#cod x reader#cod imagine#call of duty x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader smut#simon smut#x female reader#cod x reader smut
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Could I request Chigiri, Kaiser and Barou finding out their s/o gifting them a bouquet at one of their games?
Also so sorry anon but I don’t write for Barou as I’m not super comfortable making sure that he is written canonically! But I did write the other two!!
-> Michael Kaiser
-> After his match he was already on an adrenaline high not only after scoring the winning goal, but also knowing that you were sitting up the crowd waiting for him after
-> He quickly rushed out of the locker room after taking the faster shower known to man, and when you saw you standing there looking back out over the field holing a bouquet of flowers he could help but have a half smile half smirk on his face as he jogs over and hugs you from behind whispering in your ear
“I was pretty good, do you agree, Meine Liebe~?”
-> You quickly turn around and give him a hug making sure the flowers don’t get squished in the process and when you finally hand him then congratulation him on a good job he can’t help but be a little snarky looking back at all his team mates also leaving and kinda shoving it in their face that he has an amazing s/o and they don’t (please remind him not to be a douchebag)
-> does take one of the flowers out of the arrangement to give it back to you while kissing your hand (man is down bad for you, okay.)
-> Makes sure when he gets home to display them in the nicest place in his house and takes a picture and posts it online professing his love for you in the caption (again..)
-> Chigiri Hyoma
-> A little surprised to see you standing outside at one of his games waiting for him. Not that you never come to his games just that he knows you have a lot of work and it’s not often you see him after the game because of fans.
-> He will speed walk over to you standing there waiting for him and only smile when you notice him, and have a huge smile on your face
-> When you hand him the flowers he’s even more surprised, not that he doesn’t like them, of course not! Just wasn’t quite expecting them
-> But when you seem really excited that you found them before coming to the game he sighs and accepts them
-> He’ll also walk around the stadium with you for a little since he has some extra time (and if you do) and he’ll ask you about the game and if you heard anything funny from the people sitting around you (even if you know nothing about football/soccer he’s used to you making up names or using the wrong names for things so he can figure it out, also I feel like Chigiri would like to know the tea about things but not be in it, that’s why y’all as a couple just sit to the side and watch.)
-> Also when he gets home places then in a nice spot and posts on his private account with them, with a cute small message that is coded only for you to know<3
#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#michael kaiser x reader#Michael Kaiser#chigiri hyoma x reader#chigiri hyoma#xonavia's writings!
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HOLD ME AGAIN
ANGST-FLUFF FIC
PAIRING: Alastor x Reader
SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you recently ever since a fight, and it gets to you.
WARNINGS: GN!reader (i think), usage of Y/N, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Issues, Self Harm but not physical, Depiction of strained communication, Intense emotional scenes, Brief mention of Physical discomfort, Subtle mention of codependency, really good writing skills, Overall angst but major fluff at the end because you will never see me write angst w/o fluff. Lmk if i missed anything.
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Based off this post i posted an hour ago. Damn that means this was written in an hour.
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
WORDS: 1.4k
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
You and Alastor loved each other.
That’s how it all began, too.
the two of you meeting, and at first sight, when those feelings sprawled in your hearts at eye contact,
you guys knew there was a connection.
So, what was happening now?
Well, you were sitting in bed…spacing out into the bayou. You couldn’t sleep because there was a light on, and it usually bothered you whenever you were going to sleep.
You were tired from today though.
But you couldn’t ask Alastor to turn it off, as he kept it on to sit in bed and write his script.
“…Alastor…how long are you going to be…writing your script tonight?” You looked over at him.
Nothing.
He ignored your question. His pen stopped writing for a moment, but nothing more than that as he continued on seconds later.
You felt like a failure.
When did this all start?
Alastor has been ignoring you for a while now- well- i wouldn’t say ignoring you…no, you’ve been feeling useless around him for a while.
It started after you guys had a fight about safety and how you were scared to lose him.
That was the topic.
It was settled, you forgave each other, Although he didn’t seem to forgive you deep down, you just needed to hear it.
And then he just started acting like this.
You hate comparing your relationship from before to now.
Alastor would stay in his office with the light on until he was done so you would sleep.
You would always conversate with Alastor before laying down for slumber.
Alastor would always know whenever you were upset, he would keep hearing about it until you burst.
“Hey.”
You snapped out your thoughts. You turned to Alastor,
“Yeah?”
“…You okay? You just…” He looked at your cheek and then back to your eye contact, “Have a tear down your cheek.”
“…I don’t know-no, it’s nothing.” You stammered out.
“…okay.” He went back to writing.
…You couldn’t stay here.
Quickly, you got up from your bed and walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep your composure as you closed the door and locked it.
You turned off the light,
Laid in the tub,
and slept.
***
You woke up to knocking.
“Y/N? Are you in there?”
Alastor.
You quickly sat up from the tub, “Coming, coming.” You stood up in a haste, ignoring the dizziness in your vision from it, and quickly opened the door.
“You look like a mess.” He said, furrowing his brows.
“I’m surprised you noticed for once.” You snapped back in a mumble, shuffling past him and over to your wardrobe.
“…Y/N.” Alastor said, making you stop in your tracks. “What has gotten into you, lately? You’ve been acting so strange, and now you just show me no manners whatsoever.” He said, stepping into the bathroom. “I expect better from you.”
…That bitch.
You quickly threw something on, (of your choice),
Took Alastor’s pillow, a picnic blanket,
And went off into the bayou.
It was quiet after a moment of entering, which pleased you.
You couldn’t hear the sink running from Al’s daily routine, nor the bustling sounds of the hotel from outside the door.
Only crickets, water, and leaves rustling.
You knew where you were heading, as well.
Alastor used to take you out to picnics in a certain spot a lot.
Before the fight.
And you haven’t gone since.
***
The walk calmed you down enough to settle down into the spot without recalling memories and seeing at the same time.
You set the blanket down, anchoring it with some rocks so the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and sat down in your usual spot, hugging the pillow to your chest as you closed your eyes, and daydreamed.
You were at a picnic with Alastor.
You were eating his mother’s dishes.
You were gossiping about cannibal town drama.
You were dusting off each other’s clothes after chasing each other in the Bayou.
You remember how much bruises and cuts you got from that ridiculous game.
“Y/N? What has gotten into you?” Alastor said from behind you.
You turned around to look at him.
“What do you mean?”
He scoffed, “First the bathroom and now far into the bayou. You could’ve gotten lost.”
You felt guilty now. Great.
“…Maybe if you just leave me alone, you wouldn’t have to worry so much.” You mumbled into the pillow.
He put his hands on his hips, “Y/N, it’s been 11 hours since you left the room to here i guess, how could i not worry.”
11 hours?
Now you felt the intense hunger in your stomach, the weight of your eyelids begging to close, the stiffness of your back.
“…Probably because you haven’t in a while, I supposed.” You said truthfully.
“…You’re acting like a child Y/N.” He said, walking around the blanket to look at you.
“…Can we talk, Alastor?” You said, clutching the pillow tighter.
“I feel like that would be best, yes we may.” He said, setting his cane down and sitting across from you on the blanket.
“…Why do you hate me?” You said, looking into the small lake next to you.
“…Hate you? I could never, why do you say that?” He said, clearly offended.
You held back a sob, “You…you never have conversation with me anymore and w-whenever i start one you just…blow it off…” You tried to keep your tears in as you finished your sentence.
After a moment of deafening silence with the crickets to keep you company, you looked up.
Alastor was frowning.
“…I-I know that’s just one thing, b-but,” You took a deep, shaky breath, “You…you also never check on me you…used to always freak out whenever i was upset, always harass me until i told you what was wrong- but now w-whenever i don’t t-tell you…i don’t know…you j-just blow it off as well…” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“…Y/N…” Alastor called out to you.
You didn’t answer.
“…Y/N…” You felt something block the breeze next to you.
And then, something rubbing your shoulder.
That’s when the dam burst.
You let out a sob sob into his pillow, feeling the relief of releasing all those tears, those breaths, the lump in your throat disappearing.
You cried even more when you didn’t feel warmth on your shoulder anymore.
Or when the breeze was back to blowing on you.
But only for a moment.
“Y/N, it’s cold,” Alastor draped his coat over you, “…Y/N…?”
You looked up at him.
He looked scared.
“…I’m sorry for crying Alastor…I-I just couldn’t hold it in…”
“-No, no,” he cut you off, “No, hey, I want you to let it out, okay?” He sat in front of you, and held his arms out.
You only looked at him, pathetically.
“…Come here, Y/N.”
Another sob broke out as you quickly crawled into his lap, discarding the pillow stained with your tears.
“…I’m so sorry Y/N…I’m so sorry i let all of this happen. It was never…never meant to be this way.” He said with an ache in his voice.
You only cried more at that.
And he only rubbed more at that.
He rubbed your back as sobs racked through it, he kissed your head as aches raged in it, and he only held you tighter every time he felt like you were going to slip away, recalling the memories he never thought would bring them here.
“…Am i making you uncomfortable, Alastor.”
“…I’m just uncomfortable with myself right now, darling.”
You squeezed him tighter.
“…I’m sure you’re hungry, no?” He sighed, picking up his cane as he stood up with and exhausted you in his arms.
He tapped it once, and both the blanket and pillow were held between your bodies, his jacket back over his body as well.
“Let’s go get some left overs.”
***
As the two of you arrived back to your room, Alastor set you down into the bed, putting the blanket and pillow away, and then walked back over to you.
“I’m going to get you a meal, okay?” He picked up your hand and kissed the palm of it.
“Don’t um…forget to smile.” You said just below a whisper, “…You aren’t smiling.”
He smiled softly.
“I’ll be right back.”
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END NOTES: If you cried, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! If you didn’t cry, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! This fic is just pent up rage from a manga i just read that had no happy ending and my life in general , but that’s okay. I don’t have anything to say. Sorry it’s short xx
-Lynn Lazybones
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MASTERLIST LINK
TAGLSIT: @deafsignifcantother (comment to be apart of it ^^)
#alastor x reader#alastor x wife reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#alastor fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor the radio demon#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel
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Hello. I’m an English reader of One Piece, and confidently know *nothing* about the Japanese language (atleast how to read it). I own all 4 box sets that are currently officially available in English. I was wondering, considering your expertise, is the VIZ translation good (in terms of how reliable it is in accuracy)? Does it convey what it needs to? If not, do you think any scans you’ve read are better compared to the official? Curious what you think as a translator. Thanks!
i think that these days the viz translation is basically fine. it conveys what it needs to. often there's little quibbles i have with it, like little differences in how i might personally have phrased things, but i certainly don't think i could do better at translating whole chapters of manga on a week-to-week basis.
my new chapter reading process now that i'm properly caught up again starts with reading the raws in japanese, and then i skim both the unofficial scans from tcb and the official release from viz when they each come out to see what choices they made. doing this, i do see more mistakes in the unofficial scans than in the official viz translation. and that makes sense! the people who do the official viz translation are professionals who are being paid for their work and they have more time to do it.
like, just for one low-stakes recent example i noticed, in chapter 1112, the unofficial scans (left) messed up this panel by attributing both of the lines on the left to vegapunk, when in fact the second one should be spoken by pythagoras (something made clear in japanese by his distinctively polite speech pattern), a mistake which was corrected in the official (right).
and i'm not saying this to insult the scanlators, by any means! it's something i've wanted to get into myself, and they provide a really cool and valuable service largely for free as volunteers. i love scanlators. but if you are wanting the most accurate experience of the current manga as an english-speaker, the official is probably still your best bet.
however, from what i've seen (bearing in mind that my actual experience with the official translation is pretty limited, i mostly only look at it when people ask me questions or i have a specific curiosity) i do think the official translation has a lot more problems in the older arcs, roughly from east blue through, like, skypiea?
i've seen or been asked about a pretty substantial number of mistranslated lines and questionable choices from that stretch of the manga. for just one example, there's this one from drum i posted about a couple months ago, where a line that's quite thematically important to the series as a whole got cut up because of the translation's former unwillingness to use the word 'god' (also very visible and annoying in skypiea).
the anime for those arcs does use, from what i've seen, a better translation than the official manga. however, i personally don't know of any better manga retranslations of the early arcs (it's something i've actually considered trying to attempt myself, if i ever have the time for a project of that scale). if any of you have any to recommend, please let me know!
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Mrs Perry, the 50s Housewife & Neil
This entire post is inspired by a discord discussion so I can't take all the credit, but Mrs Perry gives off alllll the signals of a 50s housewife reliant on emotional suppression and prescription pills to cope with the demands of post-war society.
'They used barbiturates to aid in sleep, minor tranquilizers to ease anxiety, and amphetamines to help lose weight and boost energy. [...] Women’s pill consumption signals their difficulties, at times, before feminism of the era explicitly touched upon them' - Erin Brown, You Go to My Head: Women's Prescription Pill Use in Postwar America
Her smoking while she waits for Neil to return with Mr Perry from the play suggests a habit to cope with stress. It’s also notable that she hurries to put it out. Is this a further sign she’s smoking to relieve anticipation, or is it something she doesn’t want Neil to see?
And Mr Perry? His treatment of her can partly be explained by patriarchal family structure. What Mr Perry wants, Mr Perry gets. He is head of the family, and takes the lead in family communications with Neil, so much that beneath Mr Perry's repeated use of 'we,' it's difficult to discern how Neil's mother feels.
In the scenes set in the Perry house, we mainly see the family in Mr Perry's study. This direct parallel to Nolan's office INSIDE Neil's home emphasises the rule of authority over his life, and the extent of how trapped he is.
The parallel is important because Nolan's office is shown as a place of punishment for the students, and a reinforcement of their lack of agency.
More specifically, the deleted scenes show school clubs being dictated to the boys as they stand in front of Nolan’s desk. This confirms that school annual - and the editorial position that Neil earned - is taken from him on Mr Perry's whim, just as his whole life is ripped away the next time he stands beside a desk in Mr Perry’s office.
The hurt and betrayal Neil feels in these early scenes is hidden from Nolan, and he submits to the authority of his father. But Neil can no longer hide his hurt by the end. He has gained and then lost too much to accept the stricter controls Mr Perry is imposing.
So what does Mrs Perry do when faced with her son's obvious distress? Almost nothing.
Her worry for her son is real, but she shows no true support that Neil can rely on. He looks to her for help and comfort twice. The first time, she looks down, then back at Neil, and says nothing. The second time is after she begins to speak, but her one attempt fails, and she falls back into passivity.
She stands aside. It's as if Mrs Perry isn't really there, stuck behind an invisible boundary observing the damage as the scene unfolds.
It's only when Mr Perry leaves that she provides some fleeting comfort - but this comfort doesn't feel present to Neil. She doesn't articulate her support, doesn't touch him, or make signs that Neil can grasp without doubting her belief in him.
Instead of prioritising her son, she follows Mr Perry without complaint, leaving Neil to grieve alone for the loss of everything he holds dear.
This tiny scene says so much about the dysfunctional family dynamic Neil has been raised in. It's impossible to say when it started, or when his mother stopped advocating for Neil's emotional wellbeing, but there's definitely a bond - however strained - between mother and son that isn't shared with Mr Perry.
As @desire-mona has said, Mr Perry uses his wife and possibly her health to guilt and manipulate Neil into following his demands. There's definitely an argument to made for Mrs Perry having fragile health. If this is physical, or a 'nervous' ailment historically diagnosed in housewives, or a combination of the two isn't clear. Whatever it is, she must not be upset.
This puts a lot of pressure on a child, and Neil (understandably) complies under the threat. As the above scene implies, Neil is blamed, and likely blames himself, if Mrs Perry's symptoms get worse around the time he disobeys, or just fails to please his parents.
The Perrys different reactions to stress are clearest at the discovery of Neil's death. The shock causes Mr Perry to bypass anger (although anger returns in his search for someone - i.e. Keating - to blame) and his care for Neil surfaces. This is the first time his care is shown through sympathetic emotion rather than demands for Neil to succeed.
Mrs Perry hurtles into denial. Her body is reacting to distress, but she can't comprehend reality. 'He's alright,' she repeats, retreating into a fragile imagined safety to cope.
@pencileraser1 has also linked the parallels between Mrs Perry and Neil smoking to the possibility of an inherited mental illness.
Being raised in an emotionally abusive household, and internalising the shame of not conforming to Mr Perry's ideal would be enough to contribute to depression in Neil. But I think both mother and son could share dissatisfaction and a desire for escapism.
When faced with the constraints of the larger system they live under, their mental illness plays out in different ways.
Neil finds a healthier outlet behind the backs of authority through the club, acting, and finding an adult mentor to support him, while Mrs Perry has little to no opportunities to escape the confines of the home or the scrutiny of her community.
Once these opportunities (and coping mechanisms) are taken from him, Neil doesn't turn to smoking, escapist poetry, or other forms of temporary numbing. He's seen his parents suburban lives, seen the life they want for him, and perhaps he can't and won't live in quiet compliance the way Mrs Perry does.
I wonder how Mrs Perry copes afterwards? Does she see a decent therapist? Separate (but not divorce) from Mr Perry? Does she take pills and numb herself further? I don't think I want to know.
#you know its exam season when I start posting essays no one asked for#but i was listening to fortnight and thinking 50s housewife thoughts and ended up here#mr perry only breaks his favourite toys indeed#CO Posts#dead poets society#dps#neil perry#dead poets fandom#mrs perry#dps fandom#mr perry
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This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say
Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.
With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.
This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.
I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.
I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater
Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip
#911#buddie#anti bucktommy#i guess??#i dont know#i dont know what to tag this and just hope i dont upset anyone#anti tommy kinard#again i guess#but not really??#let me know if i need to add any tags:)
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Hi! I have a myriad of minor chronic conditions and symptoms, but nothing that's actually been identifiable enough to be diagnosed by a doctor. That's a relevant piece of information, because there's a character who I'm writing with more severe/debilitating versions of some of my own symptoms, and I'm struggling with giving him any actual defined diagnoses because of it. The actual question here is: If I'm basing these symptoms off of things that are happening with my own body, and the character is not in a situation where he'd get a diagnoses in-universe, is there a reason I can't just leave it as a mystery?
I suppose the main reason I'm struggling with the question in the first place is that upping the severity of the symptoms in question means that, unlike myself, the character will be using mobility aids, which makes me feel like I should do more research on why he'd be using them. I have no idea why, once in a blue moon, my right leg just decides to refuse to hold my weight for 10-45 seconds, but I do know that if I know that if it happened more regularly/for longer periods of time I'd probably invest in a cane due to instability walking. I'll be posting this work in a space where people will be able to ask me questions about it directly and I can already feel the comments being typed lol. So, I feel like I should have an answer beyond just "His symptoms are based off my own and unfortunately I don't have a diagnoses", but like... do I actually or am I just getting in my head about this?
Hi,
It’s completely okay to have a character who doesn’t have a specific condition or diagnosis you can point to if you’re basing it off your own life experience.
The truth is that this happens all the time. I also don’t really know why my knee is awful and sometimes can’t hold my weight or is incredibly painful to bend, and I’ve been to doctors (who had suggestions but no specifics) and was prescribed physical therapy. I did the PT. It didn’t do much, but I tried it.
You clearly have an experience with your conditions and symptoms and just because you haven’t gotten a diagnosis doesn’t mean your disabling symptoms aren’t real. It also doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll never get a diagnosis, either.
I completely understand your hesitancy, though, because the truth is that some disabled characters are created with a vague idea and end up having some sort of Ambiguous Disorder that is just for plot reasons. That can be harmful and ignore the realities of real-life conditions and disabilities just for something to be more Appealing or Plot Relevant.
But it doesn’t look like that’s what you’re doing at all—you are in fact pretty well-researched, because you’re basing your character primarily in your lives experience and, in good faith, making them not exactly the same as your own.
“His symptoms are based on my own, and I don’t currently have a specific diagnosis” is a reasonable answer. It’s true, and it’s not dismissive or misleading in any way. You can also add “I did research on how A and B would make someone need/do X or Y,” as needed. Like specific mobility aid research, or potential conditions, or related symptoms.
Overall, you can feel confident in your creation of your character and that your depiction is reasonable, and it also might make you more comfortable to answer questions if you feel equipped to elaborate about the symptoms or the aids rather than about the diagnosis.
Hope this helps! :)
— Mod Sparrow
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Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..
Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!
I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.
I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....
Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.
Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"
It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.
These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.
Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.
Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.
Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.
But you might say
"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"
Except....no, he wasn't. They could have just delivered the crystal to I.M.P. They have Blitz’ number, just call him, get a servant to send it etc.
Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?
Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?
See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.
Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"
The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.
Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.
See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.
Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.
You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?
They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.
The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.
Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.
Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.
I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.
Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.
#helluva boss#helluva critique#helluva boss critical#helluva critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop critical#Narratives are the MOST IMPORTANT THING!#helluva boss season 2#helluva boss season two#helluva boss blitz#anti stolas
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