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jewishvitya · 3 days

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I'm annoyed, I need to vent. I keep seeing this "a few bad apples" kind of attitude:

The reply isn't wrong. Yes, he's considered an extremist. Just like Ben-Gvir is considered an extremist. Just like Smotrich is considered an extremist.

Ben-Gvir and Smotrich got 10% of the votes in the last elections.

Just a bit ago someone sent me a video of Smotrich calling for genocide and asked me "are those subtitles real?" Because people check with me for Hebrew. And it was real. He said, explicitly, "Rafah, Deir al Balah, Nuseirat, total extermination." None of this is surprising from them. They've always been like this, this isn't new, and they won 10% of votes.

Often on posts by myself or other anti-zionist Israelis, especially posts showing protests, I see people saying "remember the people aren't the government" and yes, that's true, we're not, it's so important to remember that. But it's so infuriating to me when I see people talking like Israeli society wants to reach fairness and justice and coexistence and politicians are getting in the way. Like we aren't in line with our government on a lot. Why, because we hate Netanyahu?

Hating Netanyahu means nothing. I know people who hate Netanyahu so they voted for Bennett, who is further right than him. I know people who hate Netanyahu because he isn't brutal enough for them, they think he's holding back, they'd want someone like Ben-Gvir or Smotrich to be Prime Minister. I don't know many people who hate Netanyahu for being too far to the right. The biggest group are on the same page as him in terms of what the goal is (no Palestinian state), they just think he's doing a bad job of it and he's too corrupt. They're good with the Likkud, they just want to get rid of Netanyahu and his people, and then the party will be fixed in their eyes.

That's why, for me the next question I always want to ask is, who are we voting for. Which policies are we voting for. And the left-leaning political parties don't get voters.

In Israel "left" and "right" are practically decided according to opinions about Palestine. You could be pro-LGBTQ, pro socialist policies, pro all sorts of lefty ideas, but if you're right wing on Palestine you'll call yourself a right winger in Israel. I knew an antifeminist pro-capitalist MRA incel who considers himself a leftist because he supports a Palestinian state. I am not exaggerating, I'm not making up a character, I met him a few years ago through shared friends, he visited my apartment at some point.

So when I'm saying leftist parties don't get votes, that's because Israeli society broadly agrees with the right wing ABOUT PALESTINE. It's the first priority most of us have when voting. And we don't vote for anything that has a chance to improve their lives, because we're scared. We want to keep them in check.

Israelis are in denial about the fascism in our own society, so those who are too explicit about it, too outspoken about being nationalist, are just... "who can take them seriously?" All while they have the support of 1 out of 10 Israelis.

I'm not saying "assume that every Israeli is evil, you should want us all dead." Just... we're in denial about our own society, and it drives me crazy when people pretend like the problem isn't as big as it is.

#riki babbles #venting

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eevees-hobbies · 21 hours

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Dating Sanemi Shinazugawa - NSFW

Authors Note: Um…I don’t know where the fuck this came from but all the Sanemi propaganda that you all post inspired me. I kind of….want him???? Send help. Reblogs, likes, comments, and asks are always appreciated! I don't bite.

As always, minors and ageless blogs don't interact.

Synopsis: A headcanon of what it's like to get to know, date and suck off Sanemi.

Content Warnings: Female Reader X Sanemi. Fluff and smut. He touches your butt. Light reference to Sanemi going down on you. The smuttier smut is at the bottom and separated by my poor excuse of a divider. You give Sanemi oral.

Word Count: 2.1K

Getting to Know Sanemi Shinazugawa

When you meet Sanemi Shinazugawa, he’s gruff and moody—-just like he is with everyone else. He doesn’t initially acknowledge your presence until he has no other choice, and your hesitancy to fully engage with him only makes him bristle more.

You admit to being a bit afraid of him—and who can blame you—he just seems so angry! But you quickly realize that his anger is used to hide feelings of loss; his stone-like demeanor is a way to keep everyone at a football stadium's length away. He has the “they can’t hurt me if I don’t let them in” mentality locked down.

But some things you notice about him make your heart flutter. You detect that despite his stand-offish ways, Sanemi is close to the Serpeant Hashira, Obanai Iguro. They often share pointed looks without speaking a word, and while walking alongside one another, their strides are very similar—commonplace behavior for people who share a closeness. You stare at them in awe, a bromance, you think to yourself—of course, you wouldn’t dare say this aloud and in the presence of two of the moodiest Hashiras. Certainly, he can’t be all bad if he can build this level of intimacy with someone!

And despite regularly abusing the lower-ranked corp members during his infamously brutal trainings, Sanemi never yells at those whom he considers to be the most vulnerable—children, women, or the elderly.

At first, you confuse this behavior as indifference, but in actuality, he hates any instance of abuse of power. You witnessed this very scenario when Sanemi connected his fist to the nose of a corp member who had a young woman cornered—the corp member was far too handsy, and the young woman was obviously uncomfortable. A loud crack collided against the narrow walls in the alleyway as the young man crumpled before Sanemi’s feet.

Sanemi snatches the jacket from the limp body of the corp member and turns his attention to the woman. “Hey, you ok? Sorry about this asshole.” His tone is even, but the fist that holds the jacket turns pale as his grip cannot possibly get any tighter.

So after witnessing the enigma that is Sanemi and deciding that he’s actually totally your type, you hatch a plan—a plan not unlike one that you would use to soothe and bond with a rabid animal: kill ‘em (or seduce, right?) with kindness.

You begin to bring him snacks, offer to share your lunches with him, and even say hi when you pass each other in the estate halls, which is enough to make him pause, whip around, and watch as you walk away.

“Good morning?? What’s THAT supposed to mean?” You turn around to face him—skipping backward so as not to interrupt your stride—and stick out your tongue playfully. “Now what kind of silly question is that? What do you THINK it means?” Sanemi grumbles under his breath about needing stricter policies for those who can join the corps, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from you. Despite the oddity that is you, he can feel his heart stutter and finds himself cautiously anticipating and getting excited at the thought of passing you in the halls.

You take notice of all his scars, at first out of morbid curiosity but then out of wonder. Each streak across his face is a roadmap of all the loss and pain he’s endured. Despite those facts, he still chooses to fight on behalf of a world that has not always been kind to him.

Sanemi can feel you staring at him, and it makes him unbearably angry. His shoulders stiffen as he begins to feel self-conscious under your gaze. When he turns to give you an earful, his breath catches. He doesn’t see fear or pity in your eyes; it’s something he’s unfamiliar with—adoration, perhaps?

“What are you staring at?’ he mumbles sheepishly. You offer a small smile, amused at the sight of his reddening cheeks. “You’re pretty cute. Do you know that, Sanemi?” Sanemi stammers, “You touched in the head or somethin’…?” You ignore his pitiful attempt to get you to leave him alone, “can I touch them?” He doesn’t answer you, afraid to give the wrong answer, but also scared to put himself out there and potentially get crushed. “I won’t touch them without your go-ahead, Nemi.” His mouth falls open at his new pet name, your boldness stirring something inside him as he gives a curt, practically unnoticeable nod. You extend your hand to his face and stroke his cheek, your thumb gliding gently across the rough, raised skin. “You’re kind of….a pretty boy, Sa-ne-mi.” You say his name like each syllable holds weighted importance—and fuuuuuuck, does he like the way you say it. And while you were fully prepared to lay your attempts at winning his heart over on a bit thicker, you find that you don’t have to. Sanemi’s heart races because he’s so used to people running away from him, used to people treating him like shit, that his wild eyes stare into yours, searching and finding something that he was so desperately missing and wanting. And to your giddy delight—he doesn’t pull away; instead, he gingerly rests his cheek into your palm.

Bit by bit, you somehow manage to tame the Wind Hashira.

Dating Sanemi

Sanemi is surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to you. This might partly be attributed to the fact that he can’t get you out of his mind but also because he’s so desperately afraid of losing you to someone else—someone like that bastard Tomioka—because women prefer the sensitive type, right?

He takes mental notes of things you like, so much so that when you one day show up to a meeting with a leather-bound book of poems, he secretly checks which page is the most worn and commits the prose to memory. When he presents you with the detailed cross-stiched poem in a hand-crafted wooden embroidery hoop, he can’t look you in the eyes,

“I uh…got a Master Embroider to make this for you. Take it.” You gasp, and for once, you’re the one at a loss for words because while Sanemi is starting to let down his walls, you weren’t expecting something so intimate. Truly, he’s a romantic at heart.

Other times, he’ll simply sit beside you, both of you taking a rare break in your favorite shaded spot, and present you with your favorite flower.

“So, uh,” he’ll lean back, folding his thick, chiseled arms behind his head, “tell me about your day.” You smile, bringing the flower up to your nose and letting the sweet scent tickle your senses, hoping that in the future, the smell of this particular flower will trigger this memory, offering an immortalized snapshot of the blossoming feelings you feel for him. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Nemi.” He’ll blush and rub his thigh against yours, eyes still closed but a blush creeping from his neck to his cheeks. “Yeah? I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you either.” He’ll breathe out a husky laugh, “come to think of it, you’re constantly on my mind.”

Romance with Sanemi

The first time you kiss Sanemi, you’re pretty sure a quiet whimper escapes from his throat. The kiss feels electric and familiar simultaneously, and it doesn’t take long for him to press his lips more firmly against yours. His soft lips glide with yours as he places his shakey hands on your hips and pulls your bodies so close that your chests touch. He drags his tongue against your bottom lip, daring you to give him access, and of course you do. His tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, mixing your saliva and savoring your taste. When you two pull away, his cheeks are tinted pink, and he’s looking away with a half-hearted scowl before he pulls you back in, his rough hands resting on the back of your neck and head.

“Hm, let’s do that again. It was too short,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours. His mouth is so close to yours that you can feel his breath tickle your lips.

The first time you’re intimate, Sanemi’s hands explore your body as though you’re fragile and could crumble under his touch. He constantly brings his eyes up to yours; you can hear him swallow thickly as he takes in your naked body splayed out in front of him—for him.

“Is it ok if I lick you here? You taste so fucking good.” “Y-you’d tell me if you wanted me to stop, yeah?”

With each instance of intimacy, he grows more confident, maybe not in his abilities to please you because he was never unsure about that, but he grows convinced that you want him. And eventually, it’s like the floodgates open. And those floodgates represent a 100% increase in Sanemi’s affection—and how he shows that affection—towards you.

In a crowded marketplace? Sanemi is grabbing your hand, guiding you carefully through the sea of people, and shooting daggers at anyone who bumps into you or looks at you the wrong way. Haven’t seen each other in a few days because he has been on a mission? Sanemi beelines straight to where you are—forgoing his sleep or taking a bath—to embrace you in a hug and whisper how much he missed you as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“I missed my girl so much. Did ya miss me? There’s no way in fuckin’ hell I was goin’ to miss seeing you for another night.” He scoops you up in his arms and kisses you, his large hands conveniently cupping your ass and squeezing your curvy cheeks.

You’re bone tired and sleeping in? Sanemi is the kind of lover to leave a trail of soft kisses along your forehead, nose, and then lips every morning before quietly rising—careful not to wake you—to sweep the floors, put away dishes, and brew your favorite tee so that there are fewer things for you to worry about when you wake.

“Tch! Look at who finally decided to join me. Thought you were going to snore the day away—-come drink your tea already, sleepy head!” And though he’s starting the morning by talking shit—he can’t help but smile at you as he brings your cup over. He snakes an arm around your waist and chirps, “you know you snore like a fuckin’ hog?”

-------

Sucking Sanemi Off

There is no doubt that Sanemi is the proverbial definition of a man, but there’s nothing that makes your brain turn off more than when he pulls his thick, veiny and domineering cock out of his uniform. You get a primal urge to suck him off until he pumps your pretty little mouth with thick ropes of his cum.

And so you do.

Your tongue flirts with the fat tip of his dick, licking at the precum that is now sliding down the length of his shaft. You leave every inch of his cock covered in your slick saliva, even trailing your tongue down and suckling at his balls.

“You and that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours,” his head falls back as he strokes your hair. His breath and tone ring harsh in your ears, but his touch is loving—this only fuels your need to take more of him down your throat. As you slide his meat past your tongue so the tip is pressed against the back of his throat, he lets out a prolonged and guttural moan.

“Hmm, my girl really knows how to suck dick, huh?” His calloused hand strokes your cheek; his words sound like pure honey to your Sanemi-addicted brain. You give him a muffled but eager, “mmmh!”

You move your lips and tongue along his shaft, his precum pooling into your mouth and sliding down your throat. The heat in between your thighs only grows more intense with the bobbing motion of your head.

“Make it messy, baby. Slobber on my cock like ya know I like it,” Sanemi groans as he pulls his dick out from your mouth, smacking and dragging his length against your swollen lips. You grip him at the base and spit on his dick; your eyes light up in pleasure as his heavy balls twitch aggressively. Not being able to take it anymore and because Sanemi has a thing for cumshots, he grips his dick in his hand and strokes himself quickly.

“Open wide, baby girl. Show me that tongue.” You obediently stick out your tongue, strings of saliva, and precum, making a lewd-looking web in your mouth.

Sanemi whines and rests his sensitive tip against the entrance of your mouth. “Fuck, you ready, baby?” Before you can answer, his cock twitches, firing fast and hard right into your waiting mouth, and like a good girl, you swallow every last drop.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #demon slayer sanemi #kny sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer fanfic #smut

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wososcripts · 5 hours

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Face to Face (Part 1)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: After months of a toxic back and forth with Frido, things reach a breaking point.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I know it's been forever but that's what being a full time uni student will do! I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I do, its been a wip for a while now!

As usual this is all fiction and in good fun! Nothing is meant to represent reality. All italicized dialogue is in a language other than English, and I promise... things will get better in this fic eventually.

Warnings⚠️: unhealthy situationship lol, injury, light medical description

"Get out!" You screamed, repeating it over and over until you were alone in your bedroom.

You hated yelling. Absolutely hated it. You couldn't remember the last time before today that you had actually yelled in someone's face. Plenty of people in your sport lost their tempers and shouted on the pitch—whether at a ref or another player—but it wasn’t your style. You always managed to keep your cool. It was your sport, yes, but not your life.

You'd been yelled at too much as a child to think it had any productive effect on a situation, which may have been part of why you immediately felt horrible once Fridolina left the room. You pulled your comforter around your half-naked form, wishing you were less exposed.

This was the end. Whatever you and Fridolina had, it was over. Finally.

You'd been trying to build up the will to make this happen for weeks, and yet your heart felt like it was being strangled with every moment you sat here alone. The worst part was, you knew Fridolina didn't care. She was probably angry, sure, but she was not feeling the heartbreak you were.

You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the next few days. You had to fly to Germany tomorrow for national camp—and then on Friday you were playing Sweden in a friendly. It was hard to imagine that you had been excited to get the news about the friendly last month. It meant you got to be around Frido more, got to see a few of your old teammates from Chelsea like Magda and Zećira, and you genuinely enjoyed being around the German girls. It was still home to you, there, even if you hadn't played for a German league in nearly a decade.

Now you just wanted to stay in Barcelona while Frido left. You wanted to call Alexia, or Patri, and ask them to come over and comfort you. You wanted Patri’s jokes and Alexia’s solid presence, but you were afraid of the questions they might ask. Your eyes were red now, tears running down your face, and your room was a mess. Everything had a trace of Frido, and you hated it.

Ingrid and Mapí, who you would usually call if you wanted to get your mind off of things, weren’t an option either. Though you were fairly certain they wouldn’t ask any pressing questions, Ingrid was Frido’s best friend. And that made her off limits for now, for anything regarding this.

You just had to make it through the night, and the next morning. Then you could collapse into the familiar arms of your national teammates, your family, your language, and try to forget all about this.

—

Your mother knew something was off the second you appeared on her doorstep, Laura in tow.

She wrapped her arms firmly around you, holding you tight for a minute. It had been three months since you were home for Christmas, and you hadn’t seen each other since then. You melted into her, wanting nothing more than the comfort of her protective embrace after all that had been swimming around your head lately.

Your mother greeted Laura next, and you were instructed to bring your bags up to the guest room. You’d have to share, but it wasn’t all that big of an issue. You and Laura often shared rooms when you were at national camp anyway, so this wouldn’t be much different.

“Wie ist Barcelona? Gefällt es? ” Laura asked you quietly that night, rolling over in the bed to face you.

It was late, too late to still be up. Tomorrow you’d have to be at training bright and early.

“I love it there.”

Something about your voice must have been off, because Laura stayed silent. You knew she fretted over you. She was protective too, something you experienced first hand when people were rough with you on the field—Laura hated most of your exes too. You’d known each other since secondary school, when you were barely tall enough to reach the top of your lockers.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s difficult, fitting in with the Spanish girls…”

“And I’m shy, which doesn’t make it easier.”

Laura laughed lightly.

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything!”

You poked her side playfully, and smiled.

“They’re all very welcoming. It can be intimidating when you don’t speak Spanish at first, but I’m pretty good now so I don’t have many issues.”

Laura began playing with strands of your long hair, putting it in small braids.

“What is it, Lau?”

“I can tell something is bothering you. In your texts, the way you looked when I picked you up at the airport, something is off.”

You weren't sure what to say. Laura didn't know anything about you and Frido. Nobody did. You'd have to explain the whole thing, start to finish. You'd have to explain why you stayed even when she treated you like garbage. Why you made excuses for her, compromised things you told yourself you wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain…" you mumbled.

Laura continued to play with your hair, pushing a few wisps back from your forehead.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

You needed an ally in this, you realized. Desperately.

"Just be prepared, it's kind of a long story."

And so you launched into how you and Frido had been attracted to each other immediately when she was playing at Bayern and you were at Frankfurt. How you had danced around each other when you were signed in Barcelona. How she kissed you one day after a game, before she was even out of her relationship, and then ignored you for weeks—a pattern you didn't realize was going to dominate your life for the next year.

By the end you were crying. You hadn't cried in so long it felt foreign. Everything had been building up for months and nobody had been there to help you carry the weight of it until that moment.

Laura pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back in soothing circles as you sobbed into her neck.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered.

"I feel like a fucking idiot."

"She's the idiot for treating you like that, not you. Not you at all." Laura looked at you sternly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that all by yourself…"

You snuggled closer to her and kept quiet.

"If you need someone to accidentally slide tackle her on Monday let me know…" Laura teased.

You giggled into her hair, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

You were nervous. Typically friendlies didn't worry you much, but you didn't want to see Fridolina. You had been playing well in training sessions, but your teammates could tell something was on your mind.

"Hey—" Sara's voice broke you out of your thoughts. The two of you had played together at Frankfurt for a little while, and she was like an older sister to you. She placed both her hands on your cheeks and pressed her forehead to yours. "Whatever it is, put it out of your mind. Leave it here and just play. Just for a few hours."

You closed your eyes and listened to her, letting her voice ground you. You squeezed her hands and nodded. Just a few hours. Then you could avoid Frido for an entire week before you had to fly back to Barcelona.

You assumed your position on the pitch, the roar of the German fans filling your ears. That was the benefit of playing at home. You spotted a few of the Swedish girls you knew: Magda, Zećira, Stina, and Rebecca. All of whom gave you small smiles.

In the few seconds before the match began you closed your eyes, counting down from seven as you always did before a match. Then the whistle blew and you began.

It was a tough match between the two teams. Where the Germans were weak the Swedish girls pounced, and vice versa. You were constantly fighting for the ball, the defenders packed onto you. Stina was the first to score, slipping the ball into the box amidst a chaotic mess just the way she was good at.

From there on out you were determined to score. You were playing all out, more than necessary really. It was a throwaway game, but you just had to get a point on the board.

When your quick pass to Lena had the ball soaring into the back of the net you thought you might explode from joy. You jumped into her arms, letting her twirl you around, laughing. In your head you might as well have won the Olympics.

At halftime it was still 1-1. Your heart was pounding. Laura made you drink some of your water, massaging your shoulders in an effort to get you to calm down. Popp was side eyeing you, considering pulling you out. This behavior wasn't like you.

The second half was considerably more intense than the first. Both teams wanted to score, and the more physical players on both sides were pushing hard. It was a miracle nobody had been carded.

And then suddenly you had the ball at your feet. There was a golden opportunity in front of you. Eyes facing forward, you raced down the pitch, completely blindsided to the weight that slammed into from the side. Suddenly the world went sideways and you were slamming into the ground, not enough time to even think about trying to catch yourself. Your hip and shoulder took most of the initial impact, but something about how you'd been standing, or how you'd been hit, meant your head followed, hitting the ground with a resounding thud.

You came to a few seconds later. Someone was kneeling next to your head, and their hands were on your cheeks.

Fuck. Everything hurt. You kept your eyes closed, thinking maybe that would lessen the next wave of pain you knew was coming. At first you weren't sure what had happened.

"Are you okay?" You heard Zećira's voice in your ear.

"Zećira?" You mumbled. "What happened?"

"You went down and hit your head."

You had gone down near the goal, that was right. Things were a bit blurry. You figured it was a bad idea to move your neck, what with the severe headache you could feel blossoming, and opening your eyes seemed to run the 50/50 chance of you vomiting.

"Do you remember that now? Do you feel okay?"

So you gave her a weak thumbs up, hoping it was clear you needed the medics.

After a moment in which you gathered your resolve and swallowed your nausea, you opened your eyes. There was Zećira looking worriedly down at you. She glanced upwards, probably at the medical team that was surely coming.

"Fuck, fuck…" you heard another voice, those of your German teammates beginning to filter into your awareness. And further away, the sharp sound of yelling.

The medical team finally arrived, clearing the space around you. Your hand shot out, grabbing onto Zećira's you gave her a look that said it all. Fear and panic met in equal amounts as she squeezed your hand lightly.

"You're gonna be okay, älskling, everything is gonna be alright." If anything, her tone scared you even more. You knew Zećira, and she wasn't someone you would describe as warm and cuddly. For her to be using that tone with you meant something had gone wrong.

"Okay, we're gonna sit you up now." The medic warned you, and you felt two pairs of hands rest on your body, one on the back of your neck, slowly pull you upright.

Your nausea came back in full swing, and you fought to keep your breakfast in.

"Can you hear me?" You nodded.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" You nodded again, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Can you squeeze my hand?" You squeezed his hand tightly.

"Okay, I'm gonna shine this light in your eyes for a moment, can you try and follow it for me?" You did your best, but it wasn't easy.

"Okay," he put the light away and you thanked whatever God in the universe for that. "We think it's likely you have a pretty bad concussion. We'll have to run a few more tests to be sure, but she definitely has to come off."

He must've been talking to your coach at that point, because the next thing you knew Zećira and the medic were helping you up to your feet, the man supporting you heavily with your arms draped across his shoulders.

"I'll visit you after the match, okay?" You heard Zećira assure you, to which you gave another thumbs up.

You cringed slightly at the sound of the crowd cheering you off.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #fridolina rolfö #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #barca femini x reader #my writing #fc barcelona x reader

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biolumien · 2 days

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rooftop smoke

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader mentions of smoking wordcount: 1270

you weren’t drafted into the kaiju war effort because you were particularly strong or even because you were particularly good with handling a gun or a sword.

you’re a ballistics expert.

you’ve helped to perfect the rounds that izumo tech makes for guns, helped perfect missiles in the name of eradicating kaiju. you were hand-picked for the third division by mina ashiro herself, her thirst for revenge against kaiju rivaling your own.

you’d met soshiro hoshina through mina, too.

you remember him, at first. almost twitchy, a fresh-faced stranger to the third division, desperate to prove himself. the two of you had gotten along quite well—enough to share a strained kiss or two after a tough battle or two, initially—but the two of you had never talked about it for any longer than a faint touch of the lips, and you’d tasted something floral and fruity on his tongue, like he’d indulged in some kind of candy before he left to fight.

but you’d never talked about it at all beyond a quick well-wishing for his safety before he holstered the katanas at the back of his suit, and turned away to meet his destiny.

in the days after the fungal honju and yoju attack, you find yourself hanging out with hoshina—there’s an unspoken agreement, here—hoshina could have easily lost his life to kaiju no.8, which was still at large.

“fancy a smoke?” hoshina holds out the pack of cigarettes to you—it’s the kind you like specifically—a little too sweet for most people, with an underlying cloy of tar that gets most people.

“mm. when don’t i?” you say, taking the pack from him. “thought you didn’t. smoke, i mean. doesn’t it ruin your whole…” as you pull a cigarette from the pack, you gesture at him. “your whole image?”

he snickers, a peek of a fang showing at the corner of his mouth.

“i bought them for you,” he says. “lend me your ear for a moment, yeah?”

so that’s how you wind up on the rooftop with hoshina.

he’s staring daggers at the horizon, his jacket ever-so-slightly unzipped to reveal the hints of his collarbones. you definitely don’t stare, not even a little.

tokyo’s skyline is peaceful. quiet. there is still reconstruction to do after the previous honju attacks–but it’s quiet for now, with no kaiju in sight.

you flick open your lighter, snapping it several times to produce a small and unsteady flame. there’s a breeze, strong enough that the flame almost goes out, and hoshina leans forward to cup the flame in his palm, his crimson eyes peeking out for a moment.

“what’s with the intense expression?” you drawl, taking a long drag of your cigarette, letting a puff of smoke escape your lips. “mighty scary there, hoshina.”

hoshina’s usually all smiles—the cold kind that never reach his eyes, and this one is no different. he leans on his cheek, stares at you. he smirks.

“thinking about last night,” he says, the smile on his lips twisting the tone of his words. “might’ve said a few things here and there, y’know. to the newbies.”

you stare for a moment.

the newbies had gotten closer than you’d expected them to—you’d hardly gotten to know your fellow soldiers when you were inducted into the force, quite frankly—your skillset as a ballistics engineer kept you far and away from the majority of any grueling training, of seeing beloved companions being taken away in body bags.

“ah, i get it. you told the newbies they weren’t allowed to fraternize. and now you’re getting cold feet about all of this?” you guess, sharp wit as always. hoshina snorts, pushing back from the railing of the rooftop before stepping closer to you.

his bangs fall in front of his eyes, and in faint moonlight, you can see the faintest blemishes of his skin, where he might have scratched at his face too hard.

“you don’t want this?” hoshina’s voice is quiet.

“i’ve always been honest about what i want, soshiro,” you say. “just wondering if you know what you want.”

“what i want,” hoshina says. he sounds almost bitter as he looks away. “i want to be useful.” the pale column of his neck is something indeed.

“you’re vice captain of the third division,” you say. “and mina’s yet to reach her full potential. she’ll be climbing up there in the ranks, with you by her side.”

“using an obsolete method of kaiju slaying that hasn’t been useful for a century,” hoshina says, his placid demeanor belying bitter frustration underneath. he sighs for a moment. “i’m only useful in the sense that mina might still want something from me. without that, am i truly of use to anyone? am i any better than some toy you pick up for a little while, have your fun with, and then throw away?”

you take another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs for a moment before you exhale upwards, careful not to get smoke in his face.

hoshina laughs.

“you’re useful to me,” you say. “a cliche line, i know. no romance behind it.”

hoshina watches you, the peek of crimson eyes turning almost bloodred in the faint light.

“useful,” he repeats. “to you.”

“got a problem with it, pretty boy?” you rasp, staring up at him.

his face is boyish when he leans in close, curious as his hand touches your face.

“mm. no,” hoshina says. “pretty boy?” he cocks his head. his thumb touches at your lower lip, right at the corner of your mouth where your cigarette hangs from your lip.

“that’s you,” you say. you lean into his touch subconsciously, chasing the callused touch of a palm that has held up the weight of the world. “if you want to be of use to someone, you can keep being of use to me. by promising you’ll come back alive, to me.”

you’re not the confessing type. you’re not. you’ve never talked about your feelings for soshiro hoshina besides admitting that you’ve had them once to yourself during a smoke break, when you pulled your cigarette from your lips and wished that hoshina was there to close the gap, to kiss you again like he meant it, instead of in a rushed, half-sloppy affair.

hoshina’s eyes consider yours for a moment–searching your gaze for something. his thumb on your bottom lip shifts up, and touches the corner of your mouth. he plucks the cigarette from your lips, and you stare up at him, embarrassingly entranced.

“you’d like that,” hoshina whispers, and then he takes a drag of the cigarette. the tip of the cigarette glows a brilliant orange-yellow, and you wonder if hoshina will make fun of you for staring, before he exhales, half-coughing. “ha. what i get for trying to look cool in front of you, huh?”

his smile is all fangs, barely reaching the cold crimson of his eyes.

you stare at his lips shamelessly, at the way they upturn.

“aren’t you going to kiss me?” hoshina asks.

“huh?”

you blink at him.

“i’ve decided what i want,” hoshina murmurs. “and all you have to do is take it.”

so you do. you pull him forward by the collar of his plain shirt, poking out from his jacket, and he falls against you, presses his lips to yours in a move that might be described as reverent. he tastes faintly of your sweet cigarettes, and you kiss him and kiss him until you hope you can plunge your hands into his chest, and rewrite his core so that he might live and breathe for you.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #how it be

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wonton4rang · 3 days

Text

She's got a boyfriend anyways ¡!

pairing: taesan x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, cheating, cursing, unprotected sex (do better 🙏), and i think that's about it.

summary: where your boyfriend is part of a band where taesan is, the boy always making you look twice until you couldn't hold it any longer the moment y'all got alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you always had a thing for band boys, they looked so hot when they were singing their lungs out or playing some instrument or even writing lyrics and letting some sighs out of frustration when they couldn't get that rhyme.

so it wasn't a surprise that your boyfriend was in a band, taking you to practice every Friday afternoon before going out at night. they were five in the band, your boyfriend included, but somehow only four of them went out every Friday night. so that day you got curious about the fifth boy.

"baby, aren't you coming with us?" your boyfriend said while he packed his battery drumsticks in their case, setting it aside and taking his bag to put it over his shoulder.

"i think i'm gonna pass today" you replied, your eyes following the fifth boy's back when he left the garage and went into the house. "i don't feel so good"

"are you sick? do you want me to stay with you?" you just denied with your head and a smile, getting an approving nod from your boyfriend. "if you feel bad, taesan is inside, tell him to call me"

and with that, he left. all of them did. except for taesan who was upstairs. but you already knew that, though.

you've been seeing him for months now, always feeling his gaze in your back but getting nothing but radio silence when you turned around. you could even swear he stares at you when you kiss your boyfriend.

but again, you couldn't confirm anything.

that until today, you hoped so. you went into the house all the boys shared and took a trip upstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible when you finally reached the second floor, looking for taesan's door and finding it when you saw the nirvana poster on it.

you knocked once and didn't get an answer, knocked a second time and your fist was knocking on air when the door was opened to show the boy you were looking for. he looked confused as to why you were there, and why were you knocking on his door.

"hey" you softly said, biting your bottom lip when he just lifted an eyebrow. "i stayed behind today and thought we could be each other's company"

"why?"

"do you mind if i come in?"

taesan wasn't the most talkative or kind person to say the least, so he just moved out the way for you to enter his room beford closing the door behind you two. you whispered a quick "thank you" and he just went to his desk, right beside his bed, and kept writing what it seemed to be lyrics to a song when you got closer.

"this is why you stay behind every Friday?" he immediately closed the notebook and looked up at you.

"that and the fact that i don't like bars"

"why not?"

"they are too noisy and people are just crazy out there" he was honest, and you appreciated that. a quick gaze was provided to you before he said "you can sit down there if you want to"

his head signalled his bed before he stood up and went to his music player, putting on a song you didn't recognize but it was good, some good guitar and drums going on that had you nodding your head to the beat while sitting on his bed.

"you don't talk much, do you?" he laughed and you just couldn't help it but laugh too. "i'm being serious! sometimes i think that you are looking at me and want to talk to you but then i notice you were not"

"i was" taesan lets out and you just slowly stopped laughing to face him. "i am looking at you sometimes"

"you know that's kinda creepy, right?" he just shrugged. "why don't you just talk to me?"

"you are always with him, how could i get close to you?"

"well, he's not here now" was all you answered and you could feel your cheeks burning up when he just stared into your eyes for a few seconds, slowly getting closer and sitting besides you on his bed. "you can talk to me now that he's not here"

"i never said i wanted to talk to you"

and he was right, he never said he only wanted to talk to you. but he understood soon enough that he could do more than that in the moment your right hand went to his thigh, squeezing the flesh under his jeans a little bit while your eyes met his.

"and what do you want to do with me?"

bad question, wrong timing, unfortunate moment. but taesan didn't care how bad of an idea this was when his lips finally crashed against yours. a feeling that he was craving for months finally being a reality.

his hand grabbed your face and his lips moved fast, his tongue immediately trying to enter your mouth and you allowing him. firstly, you thought on pulling out but when he towered you and layed you down on his bed, the thought slipped out your mind like that little moan out your lips that allowed him to explore your mouth.

he placed himself in between your legs and you felt the friction right away due to the fact that you were wearing jeans too and the way he started grinding down made you see stars.

"t-taesan, wait" you stopped him from kissing your lips but he went for your neck, his hands grabbing your thighs and his hips pressing down on you with the perfect strength to make you mewl. "are you going to-"

"would you let me?" was all he replied when he finally left your neck, his lips looking bruised and his cheeks flushed, his black hair making him look very pale yet cute when he asked again "would you let me fuck you?"

"i- i want you to" it was true, every Friday for the last three months you were thinking about him, about his pretty eyes, the way his voice sounded when he sang and the way his fingers played that guitar like it was nothing. you needed him.

"but?"

"i need you to fuck me with your fingers first, please"

taesan's cock twitched inside his jeans at the petition and he just nodded after kissing your lips briefly.

he helped you out of your pants and dropped them somewhere in his bedroom's floor, your panties were next and you could already feel the thrill when his eyes glued to your pussy. it was already glistening because you've been thinking about him this whole afternoon.

how would his fingers feel rubbing your clit, how would they feel inside of your soaked cunt while he fucked them in and out of you, how would he sound when you rode the shit out of him, those were all the things you occupied your mind with today. and you felt kinda guilty about your boyfriend but there wasn't much you could do about it.

if it kept going on like this it would eventually happen anyways.

so when taesan's finger finally brushed against your pussy you twitched, biting your bottom lip and looking for his eyes to beg him to touch you properly. he understood right away because he finally ghosted your entrance, making circles there before quietly asking for your permission to go in.

at first it was just one finger, his middle one, he entered it until his knuckle hit your cunt, removing it slowly so he could thrust it in this time, the wet sound making him leak some pre-cum in his underwear. but it was not until he added a second finger that you opened up your eyes with a satisfied moan, arching your back a little bit when you felt the stretch, you held his wrist and tried to control the pace but he was much stronger than you were so it was useless.

you were with your legs open, taesan on your side while one of his hands fucked you and the other one held your face so he could kiss you. the only problem in that equation was the moment he stopped just fucking his fingers into you and instead starting to curl them up inside your pussy, making you jump when he hit that bulge of nerves.

the way he laughed at you just make you hornier. his pace speeding up after his lips left yours and he just looked at you, looking for anything that signaled him to stop but only finding more reasons to keep doing his best and try to make you come.

"can i eat you out?" he would whisper, not really in his right mind when all he could hear were your pleadings for him to go faster. "please, y/n"

you just nodded as you could, knowing that even if you didn't show restraint or a negative response he wouldn't move an inch without you giving him the permission to do so.

so as soon as he saw the green light he went down on you, immediately wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit while he kept twitching his fingers inside of you.

"taesan, wait" you moaned as you could, trying to stop him before coming undone in his mouth, you didn't want to come like that, not so fast at least. "i'm going to c-cum, stop"

he didn't listen, and you knew you were fucked up (literally) when you tried to close your thighs, wrapping them around the boy's head before he opened your legs again with his free hand. giving you a look of disapproval before making his way up your chest with his free hand, reaching for your mouth and entering his thumb to play with your tongue.

everything was so hot that you couldn't help but humping his face a little bit before coming in his tongue, feeling him thrusting the wet muscle inside your soaked hole before he gave a last long lick and went back to stand on his knees in his own bed.

"that was amazing" you mouthered while you saw him unbuckle his pants. "you did so good"

"if you keep saying those things i won't be able to hold back"

"i don't want you to" was all you answered, your fingers playing with your pussy while you looked at him taking pants off with a confused look. "i want you to be rough, let it all out in me"

"y/n, i-"

"i can take it, please"

"i don't doubt it but are you sure? i don't want to hurt you"

"just do it"

and to be honest he was praying for you to allow him to fuck you up. he was so needy and he was actually surprised that he didn't cum in his pants during the whole eating you out thing.

so when his pants finally fell on his bedroom's floor, he shyly smiled, palming his erection through the fabric of his underwear and backing up a little bit when you tried to touch him too.

"don't" he just said, lowering his underwear and revealing his swollen dick, already dripping pre-cum, making him blush when your eyes got fixed in his cock. "i wanna cum while i fuck you"

and who were you to deny him? so you just opened your legs a little bit more, inviting him to finally mess you up. but he stopped, his eyes looking for something he obviously didn't find when he clicked his tongue and passed a hand through his hair.

"i don't have any condoms, do you?" you nodded and tried looking around too just to remember you left your backpack downstairs.

"it's on my bag, downstairs" your voice went out in a whisper but taesan didn't care, trying to leave his bed to look for them. that until you got up and stopped his moves. "can't we just do it like this?"

"i don't think that's-"

"i really need you, please, i can't wait any longer"

taesan was pretty, smart, he did not have any compulsive thoughts, he was nice and lovely, but he was a man at the end of the day. so he just gave in this time, laying you back in his bed while he kissed you softly and aligned his dick in your entrance.

he pushed a little and weakly moaned at the wet feeling of your slippery cunt, his head going in and stretching you out in a way that made your hips move a little bit, causing him to slip deeper into your cunt.

"fuck, it feels so nice" his hands went to the back of your thighs and he pushed them to fold you a little bit, allowing his dick to go futher inside of you before he trailed it out again. "god, you are so wet and warm"

"do it faster, tae, c'mon"

your hands went up to cup his face when he got closer to yours, kissing his lips almost immediately when he gave you a harsh thrust, followed by another, and a third one.

holy shit.

your pussy felt so sensitive because of your previous orgasm that you felt ashamed about how horny he was making you feel all over again, his thrusts were rough, rougher that you expected, and the way he angled your legs made him fuck you in the right place over and over.

he was driving you crazy.

the way your tongues met and the nasty sound of your soaked cunt and your saliva mixing filled the room alongside the long forgotten music in the background just made your skin get goosebumps. taesan was so hot, so pretty yet so strong and rough that it just made you tremble in his embrace.

his hips went down enough to brush against your clit and you found yourself stopping the kiss to go down his neck instead, holding for dear life to the hair in his nape and tangling your legs around his waist when he placed his arms around your head, looking straight into your eyes while he fucked you senseless.

"i'm gonna cum soon" he warned you when his thrusts became sloppy and his voice became more whiny. everything seemed so personal with his eyes staring deep into yours while he chased his high, bringing you a second one without noticing when he started sweetly moaning your name. you clenched around his cock and he could just press his eyes shut close. "god, y/n, stop doing that"

"you feel so good, pretty, so hard" he wasn't the strongest soldier out there and you knew that, you noticed how he reacted to pet names and compliments before, his cheeks flushing and his lips trembling before he lowered his head. "i can't stop doing that when you make me feel so good"

"i need to cum, oh my god, i'm gonna cum" was the only thing he said when he tried to pull out but your legs didn't let him, your arms pulling him closer to you so you could brush his lips with yours. "y/n, stop, let me o-out"

"please cum inside, i want you to" his dark eyes got watery for a second because he was holding back so bad, his hips still rooting into your abused cunt, mixing his pre-cum leak with your cum like a mad man, you could feel his shoulders tense and his dick twitch inside your throbbing and sensitive pussy. "that's it, so good, tae"

"fuck" he muttered, his eyes falling shut when he finally came inside of you, giving one last deep thrust that made you twitch and let out a high pitched moan right against his lips. "you good?"

"better than ever"

his lips crashed against yours for a while, his arms practically hugging the frame of your head, his weight in top of you while his tongue pushed through, his dick still inside of your pussy while it went soft, making you throbb a little when he pulled out with a soft moan.

"let's clean up" was his first suggestion. "that was amazing, y/n, thank you. for everything"

"always. you know we could-"

"i don't think that's okay, though" he knew what you were going to say. but as much as he liked you, he wanted to think that he still had some conscience left. "i can't be fucking my friend's girlfriend, you know how he'll feel if he ever found out?"

"he doesn't have to"

again. taesan was a man. and as much as he liked his friend, he liked you better. his friend won't make him cum, and if he did, that'd be weird as fuck.

"you promise?" he asked, he did like you but that didn't mean that he wanted to lose his friend or be the friend who fucked their friend's girl.

"i do"

and you could just know that every Friday night you were not going to the bar like before, telling your boyfriend you were on this diet and couldn't drink alcohol. he still tried to take you with the excuse of buying you alcohol free drinks but you denied, explaining how bad you'll feel seeing the alcohol and not being able to drink it.

explaining how this diet was soooo important for you.

yeah, sure. bet.

cause taesan was waiting for you every friday in his room, you guys kissing, fucking and even singing together to some old the carpenters songs he loved, introducing you to some bands you never heard of before.

you guys got along pretty well. and so did him and your ignorant and neglecting boyfriend, laughing and hugging the man that's fucking his girl every Friday night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor smut #taesan smut #taesan x reader

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crystaldesiree · 1 day

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(i wanna request if u dont mind!! Blade head canons being nonchalant and stoic towards his gf/reader everytime we say "ily" or any romantic stuff and everytime we get clingy or cuddly but lowkey he likes it deep down but he just doesnt show it)

but seriously tho i wanted to say DAYUMM ur first writing was so good. and also I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE SOULMATE!BLADE 🤭🤭 or ur first drabble!!! i like the way u write u should write more of him and maybe other characters too!

anyways thanks for already reading my texts!! have a nice day!!

pairing: blade x gn!reader a.n. ahhh, thank you sm! it honestly took me a day to write that and i was fairly surprised that people liked it! but im really glad you requested, i hope you like what i wrote!

blade always struggled with emotions. especially with memory fragments that burned like fire, shoved into the back of his mind and long forgotten. so, when it came to you, he wasn't as open to reciprocating every special moment. in fear that they too, would become memories that left him awake at night, struggling to breathe. he didn't know how to react or what to say when the words 'i love you' fell from your lips. so he chose to stay silent, his expression remaining neutral. but deep down, those words stirred something in him, a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. he might give a brief nod or a fleeting smile, but he never let on how much they meant to him. when you got clingy or cuddly, blade maintained his apathetic facade, letting you snuggle up to him without protest. he appeared indifferent, but the truth was, he secretly enjoyed your warmth against his cool skin. the way you wrapped your arms around him, your body snug against his, brought him a sense of peace he couldn't find anywhere else. if you looked closely, you might catch a subtle softening in his eyes or a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. even when you reached up to plant a tender kiss on his lips, he found himself at a loss, unsure of how to respond. internally, he wrestled with the decision to either wrap his hands around your waist or let them remain motionless. your kisses, however, always sparked a fire within him, sending heat cascading through his veins and causing his hands to tremble like leaves caught in the wind. but, his affection appeared in small, almost unnoticeable ways. he'd adjust your blanket when you fell asleep next to him, make sure your accessories were always adjusted right, or stand silently by your side when you were upset. despite his collected attitude, he listened attentively whenever you talked about your day or shared your thoughts. his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding and a sincere effort to show just how much he valued your words. deep down, blade enjoyed the warmth and love you brought into his life. he might never openly admit it, but the comfort he found in your presence was something he cherished more than anything. on rare occasions, his facade would crack slightly. sometimes when you two are alone together, he might gently hold your hand or give you a soft kiss on the forehead, revealing a glimpse of the depth of how he really felt. he always tried to find a way to make you feel comfortable with him, without needing to express it verbally. there was an unspoken understanding between you two, even though he didn't often express his love verbally, you felt it in the way he stayed close, protected you, and allowed your affection without resistance.

#hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x reader #honkai star rail #blade x you #blade honkai #hsr x reader #blade x y/n #honkai star rail blade #hsr imagines #blade headcanons #hsr #hsr x you #blade x gender neutral reader #hsr headcanons

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wordsvomit101 · 18 hours

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I'm about to do a lot of yapping.

I love definite answers rather than vague implications as much as the next person and wait for the story to come out first before making theories but this chat got me to realize a bunch of things so I need to share my thoughts. Important notes, the credits are for @shyanimeboi and their lovely friend who shares the source, couldn't do this without them. Warning though, there will be a lot of talking about flowers.

What a way to start a conversation, very flattering Lucifer, this just makes me think of how the devils and MC are pretty mutual in their attraction toward each other, this image said it the best, in my opinion.

But this also just makes me think that MC has to have some God's divinity in them and Solomon has something to do with it. My reason is kind of dumb but like, from the start of the game to now, MC could fit every character's ideal type (ex: Satan likes someone with wicked slaps, Mammon likes someone greedy, etc.), and if you stretch it enough (or inhaled a lot of copium like me), it could make sense, because somehow the angels have affection for MC yet they don't with Solomon and how MC can take off their charity belts in the Christmas cards, and now Lucifer said he has an erection just being around them (can't forget to mention, how every angels and angels' ideal type are God himself, and seeing how they act with him, it could explain why).

And the last two parts, Lucifer you're not fooling anyone, my guy. He likes being spoiled by his siblings as much as he is indulgent of them (like how he stops to tell the story of his past for the trio in the middle of the war and how he acts in his selfie comic). Of course he not gonna say it outright that he appreciates it but the fact that he found some flowers he likes says a lot (apparently this is not the first time as well, the nobles have done something like that for him, but this time is probably his favorite).

Also yes, it is in fact good for the body and mind to have plants around you when you have a common cold. "House plants can help you fight colds and sore throats. A study by the University of Agriculture in Norway discovered this fact. The research showed a 30 percent decrease in coughs, colds, sore throats, and other cold-related symptoms in people occupying spaces that had adequate houseplants. The reason? Plants help to increase humidity levels and decrease dust as well as purify the air."

This parts, this parts got me reeling. It seems normal right? I thought so too but when I think deeper into it, I have some thoughts on how he sees beauty and how he perceives beautiful things and associates them with people he loves (the 3 Seraphs) and how he see them as people, especially when it comes to flowers and plants. Flowers often symbolize beauty, growth, and the transient nature of life. A greenhouse, as a controlled environment where plants can thrive, represents a space of care, nurturing, and protection. Lucifer's frequent presence in the greenhouse basically said that it was his favorite place. It is a place where he can be surrounded by beauty in a natural and unforced way, much like how he perceives and interacts with others (he might see a flower and associate it with MC someday but we are not there yet).

Now, why am I so fixated on this? Well to me, how a person treats a flower says a lot about them and how they will treat others, for example, some see a beautiful flower, they will rush over to pick it, and some want to just hold it in their hand, some want to own it and have it in their possession, and some want to control and ruin it. While there are also people who see it and choose to just stay near and appreciate the flower, maybe they will pick it up one day or they don't. Lucifer fits the bill on the last one pretty well, he sees both the best and the worst side of his brothers, and instead of controlling them or snapping at them for how they are, he appreciates and lets them be, without trying to mold them to his own ideals. This is like observing a garden with both blooming flowers and wilted ones. Akin to a gardener who does not force the growth of plants but instead provides the optimal conditions and lets nature take its course.

Gabriel’s representation as a white lily, a symbol of purity, faith, and rebirth, yet always carries with him the “dizzying” scent of blood that is always on his body. The blood-stained petals symbolize the loss of innocence and the tarnishing of what was once pure. Like the white lily, Lucifer loves Gabriel for his inherent purity and unwavering commitment to God but hates the violence that taints him.

Michael’s representation with a black bellflower is surprisingly very accurate to his core, bellflowers themselves mean affection, constancy, and everlasting love, and the most prominent example of this is his love for both God and Lucifer, in the two stars event, even if one went out to buy the milk and the other throw himself to Hell and protect devils whom Michael despises, he still loves them. However, from what I can interpret, Lucifer could mean that instead of embracing the right "dew" (which likely means positive feelings, thoughts, and emotions), Michael chose to embrace the "dew" that only makes him cry and sad. Lucifer sees potential for beauty in Michael but is likely pained by his brother’s self-destructive choices.

How Lucifer sees Raphael as a chrysanthemum is interesting, the significance of the flower means strong bonds and a feeling of joy, and the warm color which resembles the sun means that Raphael should have been a bright and warm person like the flower is but the meaning of the "unrequited love" and how Raphael got misplaced affection, and instead of dealing with it in a non-destructive way, Raphael choose to rampage from the grief and the unjust feelings. It is basically what it could have been and what it becomes.

In some cases, it is a good thing to just simply observe the beauty of it all, but is it right to just only watch from afar as the "beautiful flowers", that lack the proper nurturing and care they want, beings he loves so much destroy everything around them and is also ruining themselves? He could cut off their roots and pick them out to prevent further damage but he didn't (since he is the closest to God, I wouldn't put it past him to pick up some habits and worldview from his Father, and perhaps, God also view the angels like how Lucifer does).

Interesting how he can see a bit of himself in MC, but the feeling of superiority is strong in the "pity" part when he talks about the devils. Like yes, he does love his nobles but he also pities them, and idk what to tell you besides that Lucifer kind of treats the devils like stray dogs or cats he found cute and pitiful and adopted them. Not saying that he's not at least, somewhat compassionate, but I think a part of him sees himself as a higher being than the devils like how other angels did.

I believe the small blue flowers are Forget-me-not, the shape and petals are pretty close to real life.

With the track record, we got and how Lucifer uses flowers as a stand-in for how he sees his brothers, and this flower, to me at least, is unlike how the other three in how it represents their characters, this flower is like something Lucifer sees to remember his dead brother by. Forget-me-not, outside of tragic romance, is a flower that often connects with death and lost (ex: In Newfoundland, it represents those who fell in World War I; In Armenia, it’s a symbol for the Armenian Genocide Centennial; It’s the symbol for International Missing Children’s Day; The Alzheimer’s Society uses forget-me-nots as a symbol for memory loss and to raise awareness for the disease).

Now, why am I focusing on the flower of all things instead of the fact that one of his brothers is dead? Well, because flowers not only tell a person's traits and personality, they also tell stories. According to Forget-me-not's legend and lore:

The first one describes a German knight who was strolling with his lady along the banks of the Danube River. The lady saw pretty blue flowers—but they’d been pulled loose by the river’s flow and were about to disappear downstream. She wanted to save the flowers, so her chivalrous knight jumped into the water. He couldn’t fight the strong current, so he tossed the flowers onto the bank, and as he was carried out to sea, he called out, vergiss mein nicht, which is German for “forget me not.”

Another legend says that the German knight didn’t leap into the river after the flowers, but rather bent to pick some for his lady when the weight of his armor caused him to topple into the water—and then he called out “Forget me not” as he was swept away. A separate German tale says the name was chosen when God was naming flowers. This one was the last, and the flower cried out, “Forget me not, O Lord,” to which God pronounced, “That shall be your name!”

The knight could be the dead brother in this situation, and I think that he and Lucifer were close when they were young, and Lucifer probably got interested in something or wanted to save something, his brother tried to help but ended up dead by an accident. Or he could be alive or in a limbo where no one could remember him except Lucifer. And I saw someone make a theory on this, here:

Apparently, he is the only light theme enemy, and given how he looks? He could be the brother but even I don't have a concrete reasoning as to why besides his appearance and power, and how he hides himself behind other angels in the presentation art and in battle. Though he would likely appear more in the future.

#whb #what in hell is bad #wordsvomit notes #whb lucifer #this is just my opinions #and I just yap a lot so if you disagree it totally cool #i'm glad we have different thoughts #also if I somehow make sense to you then thank you :D

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emhm · 2 days

Text

Coffee? Please?

Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.

[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]

I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.

-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.

-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]

-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.

-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.

-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.

-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]

Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.

I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.

But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.

But anything helps.

I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.

I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

My Paypal is attached to this old email address - [email protected]

I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory

I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf

And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-

"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."

I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.

-Doc

#please help #eclipse meets his match #emhm #patchworklaboratory

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shinshandholder · 1 day

Text

i think way too often about nicky's conversation with neil about love ("exy can't hold you up, and it won't make you a stronger or better person. sooner or later you're going to have to let someone in".) and how it's relevant at so many points of the trilogy, how it ties to neil's fears and how it always leads him to andrew. there are so many instances of it… just to name a few:

when neil is telling andrew about his past (kind of), and andrew takes it like a champ: "neil didn't know how to feel about that. he should be relieved, because it meant andrew might be done asking him questions, but it went deeper than that. he wondered for a moment if andrew could handle the entire truth so calmly, but that was too dangerous and stupid to consider".

after neil accepts andrew's offer to protect him: "andrew didn't bulge beneath his weight. he was something solid to lean against, something violent and fierce and unmoving. neil couldn't remember what it felt like to have someone hold him up. it was terrifying and liberating all at once".

after the conversation with nicky: "neil wouldn't wish his mess on anyone else. except he'd already started sharing that burden, albeit unwillingly. he'd divided his secrets between kevin and andrew. kevin reacted the way neil expected everyone would to the truth: with a horrified demand that neil leave immediately. andrew, though, nodded in the face of it and told neil to stay. he stood his ground when neil asked him for murder and gave him a key to their house".

when he opens up about his past AND SHOWS HIM HIS SCARS. "with so many people watching, neil couldn't lift his shirt. he did the next best thing and dragged one of andrew's hands under the hem. he pressed andrew's palm to the ugly scarring across his abdomen."

when he picks up andrew from rehab: "they'd been apart for seven weeks but neil keenly remembered why he'd stayed. he remembered this unyielding, unquestioning weight that could hold him and all of his problems up without breaking a sweat. for the first time in months he could finally breathe again. it was such a relief it was frightening; neil hadn't meant to lean on andrew so much."

when his reaction to the conversation with wymack about being captain is to call andrew: "neil felt a half-second from losing his mind, but then andrew said his name and neil's thoughts ground to a startled halt. he was belatedly aware of his hand at his ear and his finger clenched tight around his phone. he didn't remember pulling it from his pocket or making the decisino to dial out."

JUST. "it's always been 'lie' and 'hide' and 'disappear'. i've never belonged anywhere or had the right to call anything my own. but coach gave me keys to the court, and you told me to stay. you gave me a key and called it home."

"letting someone in meant trusting them not to stab me in the back when terrible people came looking for me. i was too afraid to risk it, so it was easier to be alone and not think about it. but i trust you".

when they're making out and andrew lets him put his hands on his hair: "it wasn't much, but it was a desperate relief having something to hold onto. maybe that low rush in his gut was from being trusted enough to reach out at all".

the fact that he stopped running away and realized he wanted to be someone who stays and fights for his loved ones. "I didn't say anything then because I knew I'd look out for only me when the world went to hell. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you."

#of couse it's also about the found family i would never ignore how much their bond helped him but yk #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg

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pisspilled-drinkmaxxer · 2 days

Text

On the topic of

Urgency vs Desperation

I've been sharing a lot about Omorashi with my partner lately as I sort of delve back into holding and it has me thinking about the different between urgency and desperation, or at least how I categorize them.

Here's my best attempt to make sense of it

Urgent feelings happen earlier in the hold and keep going throughout. It's that signal to your brain to hurry hurry hurry and get somewhere to piss. It's irrational and frantic and fast paced. Urgency gets worse, and becomes more problematic later in the hold, it can be increased with the sound of water, the sight of a toilet, or even just simple words, the breeze, anything.

-I also think urgency causes more leaks.-

Meanwhile, I use Desperation as a marker for physical need. Desperation is the constant state of struggle during a hold. For me, about a liter in and I can guarantee I'm going to be Desperate. It may not be very urgent, but I can feel the fullness in a way where I know I really really need to pee. Desperation gets worse too, obviously 😈, it makes you feel more like you can't walk or breath or stand fully upright. Desperation makes you feel totally paralyzed and brings tears to your eyes.

When added to higher urgency, they're as much at war as they are one in the same.

I love high desperation and low urgency holds the most because I can feel absolutely laden and like my bladder weighs a ton and still be able to do tasks that press and torment it and then raise the urgency with water or sound or walking into the bathroom and just feel the pressure mounting until I feel absolutely heady with it all.... But I'm wondering about other people and what y'all prefer?

🤷🏾‍♀️✨🥃

#omorashi #piss desperation #bathroom control #bursting bladder #bladder filling #bladder kink

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batsplat · 3 days

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It's a thing I already knew but all your beautiful analysis really made obvious (to me) how much of a grudge holder vale is. That man is never letting it go he's gonna hold his grudges into his grave

you know, I do think this is an interesting issue, because I'm not sure this is true of all his grudges. just sticking here with the grudges he accumulated in his capacity as a competitor, rather than just his general approach to life or whatever... how you judge this will kinda depend on how you feel about the 'reconciliation' he's experienced with some of his rivals - and whether you read the whole thing as sincere or not. now, personally I reckon he still dislikes biaggi, but also you are allowed to just dislike people so I'll give him a pass for that. some of the others, I'm a little more convinced by the whole reconciliation schtick

let's get valentino's take:

interesting that he mentions those three together, isn't it? and like, he's still not messaging biaggi or inviting him to his home - "even with max" kind of tells you all you need to know - but the other two? they said some proper nasty things to each other over the years!! I mean, the casey rivalry, there's some remarks from both sides where quite frankly I think I would struggle just a touch to get over it

I don't know, obviously this could all be pr stuff, but I kind of feel like... y'know, why bother? it's 2022, you're retired, who gives a fuck? sure it's a good look to be all magnanimous, sure it can be a bit of a way of twisting in the knife to the guys left in the cold, but also, who would care if you don't play nice? I think especially with jorge, you surely don't need to do all that, inviting him to your home and dancing with him... (which, again, some of the spats those two had...) and with the casey rivalry, if there's one guy who's still hung up about what happened between the pair of them, it's obviously casey (speaking of blokes who can hold a grudge). maybe this is giving valentino too much credit, but personally I buy it's more or less sincere. there's nothing to really indicate he's still particularly bothered by any of their past disagreements - he's basically going for the 'all's fair in love and motorcycle racing' approach. he knows he was an asshole, he accepts they were assholes too, whatever, that's how these things work. he's generally a fan of drama in rivalries, unsurprisingly, and he was happy enough to contribute his fair share - but he does see it as fundamentally being part of the game

to point out the obvious, check out who he's left out: sete and marc. that's where he can't let go of the grudges... because it's not about the offence itself as much as it is about the betrayal. this is the thing with valentino, right, it's about what kind of bond you had with him. if you weren't his friend in the first place and then piss him off as a rival then, y'know, whatever. obviously he's going to be vicious in trying to get back at you, but also he's really not going to waste his time feeling too aggrieved by it. I mean, think about how all the bullshit between him and casey dropped off sharply post-2012... from valentino's end anyway. think about how jorge and valentino pretty quickly got on again whenever they weren't fighting for supremacy within yamaha. they weren't friends in the first place, then they were enemies for competitive reasons for a while there, then it's over and valentino is basically happy enough to call it bygones

but... if it's a certain kind of bond you had with him and then you wrong him... that little mental list of all his past grievances, all your past transgressions, that's where it comes in. that's where he ices you out. denies you any emotional warmth. ensures that any interaction going forward is conducted entirely on his terms. where even any public 'reconciliation' won't truly be sincere.... or, certainly he's not going to forget what happened. if something else happens... it's like you've always got the potential of triggering this lingering resentment, in a way, where all that past stuff is still primed and ready to be called upon. he certainly doesn't just let it go

or, as he puts it in his autobiography:

Biaggi and I never talk to each other. I mean, we've never had a real conversation, anything that's lasted more than the requisite time to insult each other or put each other down, in the nastiest way possible. In any case, I don't hate him. It's true, we've never been friends, but hatred is something different, and that's too serious a word to describe our relationship. Far too serious. No, we have a reciprocal antipathy. No doubt this is a result of what we do for a living and the fact that we both want to win every single time. And perhaps it's also a function of the fact that we have very different personalities and very different ways of seeing things. Still, I don't think this means we hate each other, as some journalists have written. I think I could feel hatred for someone, but only for someone far worse than anything Biaggi has done. For example, if I were betrayed by a friend, then, yes, I could hate him. But Biaggi will never betray my friendship for the simple reason that we are not, and never have been, friends. Our relationship is very clear: we compete on the track - outside the track, each goes his own way. You could say we detest each other cordially.

... I mean. he said it, not me. and given this book was first published in '05... biaggi can't betray his friendship because they were never friends... I'm not saying he's thinking about sete, but it has to at least be a possibility, right? he's talking about one rivalry here and refusing to even mention the other... and the one he's refusing to mention is the one where he was friends with the other bloke. I don't know, maybe that's reading too much into it! and anyway, even if this passage wasn't really about sete, it's obviously still revealing. "detest each other cordially" is essentially what he was doing with casey and jorge (or from his point of view in any case, not entirely sure they'd agree with that). the grudge comes when he feels let down by you... and then, yes, he'll never let it go

of course, he's willing to set aside his grievances for a while if there's sufficient motivation for him to do so. in 2009, when he had so definitively won that rivalry with sete, why bother kicking up a fuss? in 2016, quite frankly it was just too much, and it was getting to the point where it was obviously hurting him too. on the one hand there was the media furore that had been going on non-stop since sepang, on the other hand it was also hurting his own approach to racing. there's reports from the time how visibly aggrieved he still was in the first few races of the season, and it took until they got back to europe for him to... y'know, have fun again. it's not sustainable to be walking around with a constant dark cloud over your head and broadcasting burning resentment towards your two main rivals. certainly not for someone like valentino - he needs to be having fun! the slight rapprochement needed to happen, in a way, because otherwise those years would have been even worse for everyone involved. but that doesn't actually translate to forgetting any of those grudges. this is about convenience more than anything else

goes to show, really... most of the time he doesn't take these things personally. I talked about it a bit in this post, how maybe it's also something that changed over time for him: the question of whether he was willing to develop these kinds of bonds in the first place with competitors... because he does possess a certain level of self-awareness in terms of what these kinds of rivalries are like and what they do to interpersonal relationships. ideally, you don't want to be hurt by a friend like that, right? better not to have that kind of emotional attachment with your competitors in the first place. how unfortunate it'd be if all those years after sete the circumstances aligned for him to see a competitor as something like a friend again... because, after all, those are the only people who could betray him. those are the only people where he thinks he could truly hate them

#this response kinda got away from me a little bit but I wrestled it to a stop before it really went on a tangent #we were this close to a sepang 2016 sidebar #anyway listen I restricted this to how he conducts himself *in competition* for a reason so y'know. I do think it's a difference #ugh this is tied very closely to another post in my drafts that ideally I'd link to but one of these has to be posted first so #anitalianfrie #valentino rossi #rosquez #kinda maybe #//#4693 #sg15 #i do frequently think about casey messaging valentino about his daughter btw....... kills me a little #but also again when I get to the casey thesis this is like a big pillar of it - this slight disconnect within casey #he was still slagging off valentino the rider on a 4hr podcast like a year after he's sending him a bunch of messages about his daughter #he's still slagging off valentino THIS YEAR. they're very funny to me. I can buy valentino can separate these things out #but casey? very interesting of him #I think it's actually kinda notable how little valentino has relitigated past grievances post retirement when compared to his rivals #With One Notable Exception. I do feel like at a certain point of fame and success you should try and be above this kind of thing #but I mean there is a universe where valentino is calling casey weak for laguna or whatever in 2024

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 2 days

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Uwaa! I'm loving your Dantalian headcanon!

I can see him, Eligos, Paimon and Orias going shopping together? TT-TT) we need the cutiepies of Hell gathered! Nilfheim and Lost Paradise where you at!?

Meanwhile, Dong-gyun from Avisos can be considered a cutiepie but he isn't in their level yet so he holds all their shopping bags;;;

I could see it go something like this

*On their special group chat*

Dantalian: ELIGOOOOOOOS

Dantalian: Dad told me that we have to go to this really important event but all my clothes are fetish outfits :(

Dantalian: The festival has a decency policy!!!! The people at Paradise Lost are insane!

Eligos: I've actually got a brand new collection in partnership with Paimon and Orias

Dantalian: Ok, I know Paimon, but who tf id Orias?

Eligos: He's a beauty guru! He's quite popular on [NOT TRADEMARKED VIDEO SHARING WEBSITE]

Eligos: you should look him up

Dantalian: That's a new one

Dantalian: I don't think I have it yet, let me go whine to my dad about it.

Eligos: Tell His Majesty Asmodeus to pay his taxes!!!

Eligos: Sorry, Bimet stole my phone UnU

Eligos: I'll just add Paimon and Orias here

_Paimon and Orias got added to the group chat_

Dantalian: Orias's a little bitch

Orias: And who might I have the pleasure of being insulted by?

Dantalian: ELIGOS WHY ARE THERE RANDOM PEOPLE IN THE GROUP CHAT!

Paimon: Hiiiiii, your highness Dantaliaaaaaaan

Dantalian: Paimon as well!

Eligos: You should get to know them as well since they all contribute to my newer collections

Orias: Dantalian? Don't you remember me sweetie? We used to hang out when you were younger?

Dantalian: I have never heard of you in my whole life

Orias: :)

Paimon: So, your highnesssss! I heard you're going to your first balllll

Dantalian: It's a sort of very formal festival

Dantalian: And we can't wear my usual attire

Dantalian: To understand how bad it is, my dad took out the 17th century suit ToT

Dantalian: Imagine being alive during the 17th century

Orias: ...

Paimon: What colour would you like the costume to beeeee?

Dantalian: Red, duh

Orias: I have the red costume at my place. It needed a bit of sewing and adding some extra ditails

Dantalian: Eligos, why could you take care of it?

Eligos: I've used all of the angel feathers in Tartaros for a new dress for MC.

Orias: And I have plentiful

Paimon: And Orias stole iiiiit

Orias: You're so funny Paimon.

Orias: Little ol me, going around stealing? Never

Dantalian: Wait, arent you the guy that tried to kill Leviathan!?

Orias: I have no idea what you're talking about

Dantalian: And everyone in Hades haaaaaates you. They would sometimes complain to me whenever you arrived back in the country

Orias: Your memory must be quite faulty. Everyone in Hades loves me

Dantalian: Except 99% of the population

Orias: You're so lucky you're part of the monarchy

Dantalian: Why? Come kill me right now, dipshit. What, are you too scared? Give me all you got

Orias: Now you're just asking for it

Dantalian: Orias don't you fucking there show up or I'm snitching you - King Asmodeus

Dantalian: Please sent the suit at the adress of the castle of Abaddon and make sure it is in pristine condition. Eligos, I already sent the money for it. Please stop contacting my son, he's grounded. - King Asmodeus

*This chat was terminated*

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb dantalian #whb asmodeus #whb eligos #whb paimon #whb orias #for the first time on this blog

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thepalerimitation · 18 hours

Text

Let Me See Some Hands:

Why SydCarmy is the most controversial dish served on the Bear

When the Bear came out, I didn’t watch it. The most I heard, it was a show about line cooks and it had the guy from Shameless. I wasn’t interested, I’m a self proclaimed cooking snob and wanted to see a tv show that had a little more flair in cooking.

But then it was 9 pm, and I was bored.

BAM!

I watched both seasons in a week.

I was obsessed, I was absorbed, and I was deeply and truly in love. The show captured everything gritty and everything beautiful with both hands and threw them into a pan to sear at high heat. It was sexy, it was hideous, and it was mind blowing.

Then the age old question.

What’s going on with those two?

Sydney Adamu, the raw ambition and talent to Carmy Berzatto’s genius and finesse. They’re well matched in the nonstop heat of the kitchen, with an easy dynamic that snags on their jagged edges like fabric on a nail.

In the first season, they’re awkward and magnetic, drifting together and falling apart, shattering and putting the pieces back together. By the second season, they’re starting to click. They dress the same, they finish each other’s sentences, and they argue like people who have known each other for twenty years.

So yes, I did pose that particularly debase question.

Can men and women be friends?

It’s a question that gets thrown in front of the runaway train. It’s the conversation-ender and argument-starter. It’s dynamite. It’s catnip.

The warning signs were there. Shots that focused for a beat too long on him looking at her, or her looking at him. Her embarrassingly admitting he made her favorite dish of all time. Their sign language communication. The season two conflict as a girlfriend was thrown in the mix with Sydney flatly saying “I need your focus, I can’t share, I’m sorry.” I’ll admit, I’ve made more out of less.

But what’s the counter argument?

Well, for one, the girlfriend. Claire (no last name), a nurse and childhood friend who approaches him at a grocery store. She asks for his number, he gives her a fake one. She finds his number anyways and calls him.

Yeah…

There’s some moral arguments. As coworkers, a romantic relationship would be inappropriate. As partners in the restaurants, a romantic relationship could fracture the Bear. Then there’s the purist argument. It’s a cooking show about found family! Let it be that. Romance doesn’t have to be in everything.

“Well gee, which do you think people are pro or anti SydCarmy?”

Well I can tell you why I’m pro.

To me, romance doesn’t demand satisfaction. There’s no need for boyfriend/girlfriend hand holding and playful arguments about doing the dishes. I’d like a kiss, but I’ll take a heated conversation in the walk-in and longing glance.

They’re young and crazy, and HR violations can shove it.

But I also think romance has killed some excellent plots.

Platonic representation is important, especially male-female relationships. I think a lot of platonic relationships are fetishized in media or misinterpreted to add intrigue or interest to audiences.

But can Syd and Carmy be friends?

The short answer?

Who Cares?

The long answer?

Whatever Storer’s design for the show, whether he moves forward in the unclear relationship between Syd and Carmy or buckles down on either platonic or romantic, he’s definitely won.

The show has buzz. It’s got attention and heat.

You hate the romance, so you watch it to prove it’s not there. You love the romance, so you watch it to prove it IS there. You’re curious because every news site talks about it, so you just have to watch it.

Even I’ll admit, I’ve rewatched it and stayed hooked to prove my little delusion. (And because it’s beautifully acted, but who cares about that).

So whether you’re pro or against, just remember:

There is no controversy that wasn’t first stirred up by a clever strategist.

#the bear commentary #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney

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milliesfishes · 2 days

Note

Hi!!! I love ur writing! I was wondering if u could write when for some reason reader and billy break up but maybe its a misunderstanding or he did something but they break up but end up getting back together? No rush!!

you and billy break up (then get back together) fem reader x billy the kid warning: reader has loss of appetite/has a hard time eating for a period of time

Billy knew that it was hard to be with him.

He knew that being the sweetheart of an outlaw had more than its fair share of difficulties. People talked about such a sweet girl being with such a hardened man, and it took a toll on you. You weren't ashamed to be seen with him in public, but he was always keeping an eye out, wary of the judgmental stares and not so subtle whispers.

Because he knew he didn't deserve you. You were such an angel to him, a sweetheart in every sense of the word. So, he doted on you, spoiled you the best he could. With kisses, cuddles, sweet words, little gifts he'd bring you from the places he came and went. Because he loved you, more than anything. And he was overly concerned with what he thought you needed to have.

Which is why he'd come to the conclusion he was at now, standing in front of you in a dimly lit barn, hat literally in hand.

You were crying, your eyes hopeless as you looked up at him. He felt awful seeing you like this, felt awful that he'd made you cry when you hadn't even done anything wrong.

"I’m sorry baby,” he whispered, his expression somber.

“Why?” you asked quietly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “What happened…what did I do-“

“Nothing.” He cut you off, dropping his hat and going to you. His hands came to your cheeks. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. You’re perfect, angel.”

“Then why?” Your words were pathetic in tone, desperate.

He sighed, looking down at you sadly. “I ain’t no good for ya darlin’.”

“I don’t care,” you pleaded, holding his wrists. “I love you. I don’t wanna live without you.”

“Baby…” he tilted his head, eyes somber. “I love ya too. Love ya more than my guns. But I can’t do this to ya…’s hard on ya.”

“No it’s not,” you insisted.

“Ya don’t know what you’re sayin’ darlin’,” he shook his head, the weight of all he’d seen in his voice. “One ‘o these days they’re gonna find me ‘n string me up by the neck from the nearest tree. Your heart’s too pure. Can’t put ya through that.”

“There’s no guarantee of that,” you pleaded, tugging on his shirt. “Billy.”

“Sweetheart…” he shook his head firmly and you could see he wasn’t budging.

And so you dissolved into tears.

“‘M sorry baby…’m so sorry,” he brought you to his chest, pressing your face to his chest. “Baby.”

You shook your head, pulling away from his arms, not wanting him to comfort you, not wanting him to see you like this. “Do-on’t.” Your voice broke in the middle of the word, collapsing in a sob.

Billy looked helpless. “Sweetheart?”

You shook your head, turning your back, folding your arms around yourself and whispering, “Just go.”

He felt a little stab in his chest. Unable to do anything else, he nodded, picking up his hat. Before he shut the door behind him, he said, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

And then he was gone.

You pined for him. The only thing you could think of was Billy. Your mood was noticed by your father, who was confused at it. You were usually so happy and vibrant. He didn’t know you’d been seeing Billy of course, or anything that had transpired between you two.

After about three weeks of this, your father sent you out with a few of your friends. He gave you a little money, telling you to get something nice. You knew he was trying to make you smile, so you did, albeit a little sadly.

Your friends were lively, chattering eagerly as they walked arm in arm with you. They were trying to cheer you up, you knew, but you remained solemn, forcing smiles to make them feel better.

They went inside a shop, and you lingered outside, hoping they wouldn’t notice. Luckily for you, they didn’t, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You leaned against the wall, your head resting against the wood as you looked out at the square. It was bustling as usual, with people coming and going all over the place. You were numb to the energy of it all, a cloudy haze coming over you as you simply watched.

In the three weeks since he'd ended things you hadn't heard a wink from him. You'd avoided town as not to see him, and all but barricaded yourself in your bedroom. You figured the distance would make it easier, but in truth it only made you miss him more.

You didn't sleep. You were hardly eating. It was a miserable existence, missing him.

Looking back at the shop door, you wondered what on earth was taking your friends so long. Or maybe they'd only been in a few minutes. Time was irrelevant to you these days.

"Darlin'?"

Your head turned, and there he was. Tall dark and handsome. Gun at his hip. He looked concerned, but you'd grown so used to that look on people's faces that you hardly batted an eye.

"Billy." You offered him a tired smile.

He looked just short of stunned. You knew you didn't look well, but by the look on his face you would have guessed you were close to death. "Ya doin' okay?"

Shrugging unhelpfully, you said, "Fine."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Ya look a long way from fine, pretty."

You pursed your lips and shook your head tiredly. "I don't know what you want me to say." Reaching your hand up, your fingers found the end of your hair, pulled into a loose braid. "It's been hard."

"'S been hard f'me too," he said softly, looking as though he wanted to reach for you. "Sweetheart...I'm gonna ask ya 'gain 'n this time you're gonna be straight with me. Are ya doin' okay?"

It was no feat to see that you weren't, but you felt as though he could see the extent of it. He'd always been able to see you so clearly. Billy had only said a few words to you for the first time in weeks, and yet his presence disarmed you. You bit your bottom lip, not wanting to cry in front of him. You'd already done so much crying. So instead of speaking, you simply shook your head.

"Thought so," he said gruffly, moving closer to you. He lifted your chin to look into your eyes, studying your face. "You been eatin' at all honey? Sleepin'?"

Your silence told him everything he needed to know. Instead of waiting for a verbal answer, he nodded and held out his other hand. "C'mon, we're gonna go get ya somethin' to eat."

"No," you shook your head, drawing back from him. "It's okay Billy. I don't..." You didn't want to be a burden. For some reason it embarrassed you, having to be taken care of like a child. Having to be coaxed to eat. It all made you feel unexplainably guilty.

Billy knew his girl, knew you well enough to understand you didn't want to be coddled. At least, not right now. So instead, he kept his hand held out for you. "Why don't we go for a walk, hm? Just you and me."

You hesitated, looking at his hand. It was tempting. You'd missed him so much. On the other hand, he was the one who'd hurt you. Besides, "I can't leave my friends."

"I'll have ya back soon. It'll be alright," he reassured you.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were so earnest, so caring. He nodded, giving you a small smile of encouragement and flexing his hand.

So, you took his hand, and let him guide you. He kissed your fingers, and the two of you walked side by side outside of town. You knew where he was taking you- your special place for when you were feeling overwhelmed or upset. It was the top of a hill, where a tree growing peaches sprouted tall and wide.

Billy sat you down, and set himself beside you, leaning against the trunk. His hand was still holding yours. He looked over at you, just watching you for a moment. Then he ventured to speak. "How've ya been?"

You knew you couldn't lie to him. "It's been really hard," you whispered, looking at the ground.

His brows were knitted, eyes soft as he looked at you like you were disappearing. "You haven't been eatin', have ya?"

Shaking your head, you refused to look at him. Though your appetite had disappeared not of your own volition, you still felt ashamed.

"We gotta get ya somethin'," he squeezed your hand. "Can't have ya wastin' away."

"I can't," you nearly choked out. "I haven't been hungry for so long."

Billy exhaled softly, nodding. Then he looked up at the tree, at the heavy fruit hanging from the branches. "Could ya eat one of these, honey?"

You shrugged hopelessly. He stood up briefly, picking a peach from a low branch. Sitting down beside you, he held it out. "Try it."

The peach was perfect; plump and round and rosy. Any other time it would have tempted you, but you could only stare at it now, willing yourself to want it.

Seeing that you weren't going to just eat it on your own, Billy took a bite himself. "We'll share it. Just try a bite f' me, yeah? It's good."

You looked from him to the peach, your mind running. Maybe just a bite wouldn't hurt? So hesitantly, you took the peach and held it up, looking at him again.

He nodded, giving you a smile. "Go on pretty."

Your teeth sunk into the peach; the juice sweet on your tongue. The fuzzy skin was a comforting texture, and you swallowed your bite. Almost as soon as you did, your stomach growled lightly, accepting the bite and wanting more. Your eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down your cheek.

Immediately, Billy gathered you in his arms, hugging you close and kissing your hair. "Atta girl...ya did so good...know that was hard...'m so proud of ya..."

You turned in his arms, burrowing into his chest, where you knew it was safe. You'd missed everything about this, missed everything about him.

He rocked you back and forth. "Ya think ya can do another for me? Just a little bite?" Billy took the peach from you and took his own bite.

Nodding, you sat up and did as he asked. The two of you passed the peach back and forth, until there was nothing, but a pit left. You stayed in his arms long after you were done, just savoring the feeling of his arms around you.

He kissed your forehead, arms around your collarbone holding you against his chest. You whispered, "I missed you so bad."

"I know," he breathed, his cheek on the top of your head. "Missed ya too."

The truth of that statement hung in the air. You were both miserable without each other. And you knew he wanted you back, but his thoughts about himself were holding him back.

"I don't care if you think you're going to hurt me," you turned a little to look at him. "You're not a bad man."

He shook his head, exasperated. "Baby-"

"Would a bad man be holding me?" you asked, cutting him off before he could say what you knew he was going to say. "Would a bad man have cared that I haven't eaten or slept very much?"

Billy was quiet, just looking down at you. Finally, he said, "Guess not."

"No. A bad man wouldn't," you said quietly.

He sighed, shaking his head, but a tiny smile found its way to his lips. "You're a stubborn girl."

"I wish you wouldn't make me be," you countered, and he laughed lightly. Then your face turned serious. "Don't you ever do what you did again. I missed you so bad...it was like I couldn't breathe."

"I'm sorry angel," he said softly, his hand finding its way to your hair. "Second I left I knew I shouldn'ta done it. Been hurtin' too. Need my baby."

You nodded, turning in his arms so your stomachs were pressed together, your arms wrapping around him. He cuddled you close, holding you late into the afternoon. Right then he knew leaving you would hurt you worse than anything he thought he'd bring your way. So right then he vowed to focus on what he had control over. He couldn't manage whether or not a bounty was on his head, but he could choose to keep you close.

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