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#without it i could not say that i could easily give up the people in my life
knmaskitten · 18 hours
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Messy ‹𝟹
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader.
Summary: You decide to accompany your father to his business party with all his boring-looking co-workers. Until you spot Nanami Kento and you’re not able to take your eyes off of him the whole evening.
warnings / tags: No use of y/n. Reader is in her twenties, a lot of slapping, creampie, praise and degradation kink, almost public sex?, mentions of the pill, unprotected p in v, oral (f recieving). VERY BADLY WRITTEN SMUT. Sorry if i forgot anything, tell me if that is the case !
notes: This was so self-indulgent. I'm really sorry if you read this I'm so bad at writing smut. This was not proof read so enjoy!
wc: 2,296.
minors dni, 18+ only !!
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It was a saturday night when your father randomly asked you to accompany him to one of his work parties. It made sense; your mother was on a trip visiting your grandma, and your dad surely loathed going alone to said gatherings. That did not mean it didn’t take you by surprise—this whole boring ordeal—but you loved your dad and ended up agreeing to be his company for the night.
So this is how you ended up at a party with people clad in work attire; ergo, you felt like you were sticking out like a sore thumb. You innocently picked a flowy white blouse and a black pleated skirt alongside a pair of Mary Jane shoes. Even so, you were not going to feel self-conscious over some stupidly boring outfits that only people who gave up on fun could pick. And also, your outfit was super cute.
“He is my boss, little one. He makes my life miserable.” Your dad whispered to you. You saw a man who could easily be an NPC. You chuckled a little bit, rolling your eyes. You couldn’t believe that a boring-looking man could make your dad’s life so difficult.
“So sorry to be you, dad.”
And then, in a sea full of grey and monotonous office workers, you saw him. Toned, tall and well-built. A blonde guy who could easily crush you between his fingers. It urged you to know who he was. He was no different than the others, dressed in caqui pants and a blouse that, to your surprise, was blue and not white like the other ones. It urged you to know who he was, as you slightly bit your lip when you analyzed him from top to bottom. The room felt a little bit more hot with him in it.
You panicked when you saw him approaching you. Did he see you? Did he notice how you looked at him? You were so out of it that you almost didn’t catch him and your dad exchanging greetings. You heard your name escape your dad’s lips, only to be followed by the guy’s voice. Your name sounded angelic coming from him. You had to force yourself to snap out of it.
“This is Nanami Kento, little one.” Your dad told you. “He works with me.”
“Hello, I guess my dad already introduced me.” You looked at him, this time intentionally, and extended your hand so you could feel at least his hands. He took your hand in his firmly and shook it. This left a tingling sensation on the palm of your hand.
The rest of the night, you couldn’t take your eyes off Nanami, It was as if he had a magnet glued to his torso. He drew you in; he looked so deliciously toned that you started to feel the need to see him without this much clothing. What could he be hiding behind his office worker clothes? Was the room always this hot? My god, he was going to make you collapse. 
For a really short moment, he connected his eyes to yours. Stoic as he was, he did not take his eyes off of yours, not once changing his collected expression. And you didn’t know if this was your delusion, your own imagination, but you swore he signaled you with his head and then walked off the crowded place. So, with your heart on your hands, you told your dad you needed to go to the bathroom and followed Nanami.
You caught a glimpse of blonde walking and taking a turn towards the office desks, so you hurriedly followed him. You saw him standing, giving you his broad and muscular back. You licked your lips before saying:
“Nanami-san, are you alright?” You innocently said.
He turned around to face you, looking at your body, unashamed. The curve of your hips, your plush tits, and your ass that was barely covered by your skirt. He slowly walked towards you, cornering you with the wall. You could feel how his chest rose with each breath he took.
“You’re such a little naughty girl. Looking at me all night long.” He clicked his tongue, disaprovingly. “Thought I wouldn’t notice those shamelessly pretty eyes?”
You quivered looking at him; you saw him starting to loosen up his tie, shaking his head in the process. Deciding it was best not to move a muscle, you gleefully decided to admire his movements. 
“Imma teach you to be respectful to your elders, pretty girl.”
He then put his hand in front of you; he looked to be asking for permission. You knew this meant you were tacitly agreeing to something bigger than just a single hand. And you wanted it so bad, so you gave him both your hands. Nanami very swiftly tied both of your hands behind your back with his tie.
“Pretty eyes wonder how they’ll look brimming with tears while you scream my name.” He whispered near your earlobe, nibbling at it. You shuddered, feeling something deep inside your core. He was going to get you wet with nothing, how pathetic of you. You wanted to touch him, to sink your hands into his neatly done hair, to squish his muscles, but you couldn’t.
Nanami brought his hands to your hips, squishing them tightly, while leaving a trail of wet kisses from your ear to the crook of your neck, he stopped there. With one of his hands, he revealed a little bit more of your collarbone and started leaving lovebites there, marking territory. Anybody who could see you will know that you were his.
“You’re so soft.” He mumbled in your skin, his hot breath making you quiver. He looked at you with hazel eyes, hungry, and then kissed you. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss; this was orchestrated, as if he were a director and you were his orchestra. You matched the kiss, it felt as if he was all you needed in your life. Lips clashing, he glued his body to yours, grabbing you by the hips. He explored.
He decided to explore your ass, squishing it hard once, twice, then slapping it. You moaned in between kisses, feeling how his hand pushed your skirt upwards to gain more access to your ass. His other hand went up, landing underneath your blouse and slowly going towards your breasts; he felt them, over your bra. You could feel how his digits applied different kinds of pressure to your sensitive area, how he placed two fingers in between one of your nipples.
“Nanami-san, ah” You moaned when he started playing with your nipple.
Nanami Kento looked like a cool, calm and collected type of guy, and he showed it in every single one of his movements. On the way he ruthlessly flickered and squished your nipple between his fingers, on how he casually stopped the kiss and looked at you—plush lips, pinkish cheeks, and big, lustful filled eyes. You huffed, trying to catch your breath. 
“You look so perfect like this.” He whispered, close to your face.
He started teasing you, touching the hem of your panties, tugging at them. He then pushed you towards a desk, urging you to sit on it. He positioned himself in between your legs and planted a chaste kiss on your covered pussy. You whined at this, feeling a heat rush deep into your core. You could feel it, you were getting wet. He did not make any comments; he just let out a faint chuckle, as if this amused him. Nanami decided to explore the plethora of reactions you could give him. He first felt your clit over your clothed folds, rubbing slow, delicious circles.
Arching your back, you purred a little moan. He then slapped your clit lightly, scolding you.
“Be quiet now, darling. We don’t want your daddy hearing us, don’t we?” 
He resumed his task, pushing your panties aside, he admired how wet you were. He teased you about it, your name escaping his lips in a degrading manner. This made your head feel fuzzy as he acknowledged that this was, in a way, something that couldn’t be discovered. For fucks sake, you were his coworker’s daughter and at least 8 or 6 years younger than him. You felt so lewd, so out of it. Your hands wanted to explore Nanami, to touch his abs and his well-toned chest. God, you hated being restrained, but at the same time, it elicited some kind of deep, twisted pleasure.
He kneeled down inches from your wet, dripping entrance. You caught him licking his lips, and then he pushed his face into you. Wet sucking sounds were all that could be heard, you tried your best not to be noisy, but it was hard, extremely hard. You felt how he used his tongue to lap at your clit, applying the right amount of preassure to send you to heaven. For him you taste sweet, like honey, and he was enjoying you.
He decided his tongue was not enough, so he used your wet arousal to coat his finger and pushed it into you, you moaned. He started thrusting, his moves deep and well-maneuvered, everything was exactly calculated to his liking. You felt how he was hitting that spongy point of yours, with his finger curled up. The little knot in your lower belly grew stronger by the minute; you were a hot mess. Soaked and messy, the squelching sounds and your whimpers echoed in the room, fogging your brain and clouding your senses. He made you feel mushy.
He increased his pace, knowing this would manage to get you on edge. You arched your back and started squirming.
“I’m going to cum soon, Nanami-san.” You gasped.
He started pumping his finger in and out more ruthlessly, inserting a second finger.His fingers felt tight they were thick and long, reaching perfectly every spot that needed his attention. You felt it before him, how your walls tightened around his fingers before you covered them with your juices, coming. He did not stop pumping, helping you through your high. 
He looked neat, as if none of this had an impact on him; you could only discern the hard bulge that grew in his pants. Nanami made eye contact with you, giving you a stern look, and afterwards, taking his glistening fingers to his mouth, tasting you once again.
“You taste as sweetly as you look.” He commented, wiping his fingers clean. “Look at you; I can’t believe you are doing such lewd stuff with your dad’s coworker. Such a naughty girl, might need a lesson or two.”
You whined, not replying to him. It really made you feel aroused by the way he spoke to you, how he treated you like you were the prettiest thing in the world, and then how he reminded you of how indecent it was what you were doing. He gave you a long kiss, in which you battled against his tongue, trying to win terrain in an already lost war.
After that, he decided it was time for you to have him because he unbuckled his pants and took out his length. You saw it sprung free and pushed your legs together expectantly, trying to ease your need. He was large and thick; he pumped his shaft twice, coating it with precum before he asked:
“Are you on the pill, darling?” He huffed.
“Yeah, please, hurry up.” You pleaded, needing him more than you have ever needed anyone in your life.
He gave you a quick slap to your tits, grabbing them roughly afterwards, flickering your nipples.
“You don’t tell me what to do.” He then added, looking directly into your eyes. “Imma stuff you full, sweetheart.” He then aligned with your entrance, entering in one swift motion, leaving you stuffed and flustered. This was nothing like his fingers; this felt a step further than heaven. Bliss was all that you could think of.
He was good, with each and every pump, he managed to undo you more, leaving you in chaos. He grabbed you by the hips with brute force, fiercely. You knew his fingers were going to leave marks on your soft skin. But it didn’t matter as long as he kept thrusting into you, you didn’t care.
You also knew that, after this, no man could ever satisfy you like he did. Nanami was going to leave you broken for everybody else. You could feel him stretching you out, deliciously, feeling the pang that came with him hitting the right spot. He felt your cunt starting to squeeze tightly around his cock, making him grunt.
“Gonna finish inside of you, angel.” He said, dangerously close to your ear. For the first time in the evening, you were able to see him worked up. Pearls of sweat pooled in his forehead, ruining the neatness of his hair, which was now sticking to his forehead.
And you felt your high coming and moaned in answer; you two were a symphony of grunts and whimpers, clouding the room with heat. And with one final sound and whine of his name, you came undone. Covering his cock with your juices. He didn’t stop, though, guiding you through your high and going into overestimulation. He pushed with more brute force into you, pushing you thighs upwards.
You felt his cock twitch and knew he was close. He increased his pace, smashing his hips into your ass, creating even more lustful sounds. After that, he came, saying your name in a grunt and filling you up with his cum. He gave you a kiss and pulled out.
And as if nothing had happened, he fixed his hair and pants and left you there, panting and gasping, messy.
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Thank you for reading <3
masterlist and more.
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stnaf-vn · 3 days
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Hello! I just played the stnaf demo last night and I absolutely adored it!! Friend is such a sweetheart (lol) and I wanna cuddle him so bad 😭💞 I have some questions about him too if that’s okay! I’m sorry if any of these have been asked before, I’m slowly working through all of the lore, but I’m definitely not quite caught up yet lmaoo - feel free to ignore any of the questions for any reason! :)
Question 1; Would friend still love SH/be a yandere if SH never came back to him? Would he give up on them or just never realize his feelings in the first place?
Question 2; I was a pretty ornery/bossy kid without many friends, partially because I didn’t reach out to others first (unless they were new in school [in which case I wanted to get to know a potential new friend and make them feel welcome] or if they were crying [I liked making others feel better/helping people and hated when people were upset]) and partially because I just didn’t take shit very well (I did NOT fw people who were rude to me and did not respond well to any perceived slight lol💀). Given that friend was fairly aloof with SH as a kid, and that SH obviously reached out first, I highly doubt that him and I would have gotten along. In the case that a SH was more like me, and he truly didn’t have anybody, what would he be like? Would he have found someone else to obsess over?
Question 2.5; Could friend become obsessed with SH as an adult? Or is the foundation of his obsession that SH was there for him as a child? So, if he didn’t receive any support/have a SH as a child, would he be truly alone?
Question 3; If SH had a lot of experience with clinical psychology/was a clinical psychologist/learned what they needed to know to help Friend, could they give him therapy to help him improve? What would it take to get him to understand what he’s doing is fucked up? How well would he respond to treatment if it’s from SH? If it’s from someone else?
Question 4; what are some things he’s bad at? Is there anything that, no matter how hard he tried, he just wouldn’t seem to be able to learn?
Question 5; how much would he be willing to change his dressing style for SH? Would he be willing to dress more masculine or feminine for them? More casual/formal clothes? Is there anything he’s completely unwilling to wear? All of this without removing his berets, ofc!
Again, I’m sorry if any of these questions have been asked before and I’m sorry if any of them were overly detailed/too much in any way akdjdjs — this is definitely a lot, so feel free to just ignore the ask entirely if you’d like! Take care of yourself and please only do what you’re comfortable with. Have a lovely day :)
Oh wow! Hello! Thank you for playing!! 1. I like to think he would! 2. Feel free to make your own stories and headcanons about how you and Friend met!/gen 2.5 That also would be interesting to see! His life would have been drastically different without you. 3. He'd decline it and say he was fine. 4. He is a very smart person and can pick up a lot of things easily. Although I'd say something he is bad at is trusting other people (other than you of course.) He's also bad at video games and isn't too technologically smart. 5. He would literally wear anything for you. No matter what it is. Except khaki shorts. And crocs.
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shima-draws · 3 months
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THAT right there, ladies and gentlemen, is a LOVE CONFESSION
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lvstharmony · 7 months
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​beyond grateful for the people that are surrounding me in my life, just as i am grateful for the people i’ve parted ways with, for without them, i would not be the person i am today.
#i have left so many people throughout my life#and#if someone would ask me if i’d regret any choice i’ve made i would say no#i regret hurting people yet i wouldn’t change a thing if i could#without the suffering the sacrifices and the lessons i would not be the person i am today that i can finally say i’m proud of#whenever i read the question “would you want to be your friend if you’d meet yourself?” deep down my answer was no#i was a good friend and i always tried my best to be there for everyone#but i was so blinded and overwhelmed by my pain that i tried so hard not to project on others that it was exactly the thing i’ve done#i was extremely caring sensitive loving and selfless but my ”bad“ traits were just as extreme#my emotions were so overwhelming that they were scattered all over the place that it didn’t allow me to have any control over them#i used to be so terrified of being alone. all i’ve felt was a great loneliness that was residing within me#until i’ve gathered the strength to leave an entire friendgroup with people that meant the world for me#they weren’t good for me anymore just as i wasn’t for them#since that day i’ve grown a lot i became a better and healthier version of myself#i learned how to be alone and to find the peace in it and in myself#all i’ve had was Allah swt. and He is all i will ever need.#without the hardships in terms of friendship i wouldn’t have been able to learn how to be alone and love and enjoy it#without it i could not say that i could easily give up the people in my life#i could if i had to bc i have Allah swt.#but i’ve learned how to choose and to choose the right people#i don’t need you and never will but i choose you bc i want you in my life and i think that makes it so much more special#i can finally say that i love the person i am today and can’t wait to see myself grow even more as the cycle of growing is never ending#I still have so much to learn and I will let it come to me with open arms#an open mind and an open heart#above all the most precious gift i’ve earned is to learn how to have tawakkul.#everything that happens every trial that is afflicted upon us has meaning#and it’s beautiful.#being able to pick out the khair in everything is the biggest blessing#alhamdulillah for the things that bruised my soul alhamdulillah for the things that mended it#alhamdulillah for everything bc truly; Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear.
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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alyakthedorklord · 11 months
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Batman the Playboy
Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.
The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.
Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“
Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”
Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”
Green Arrow: (offended noises)
Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”
Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”
However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)
So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”
Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”
Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”
———
Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.
GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”
Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”
Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”
Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”
GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”
Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.
Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”
Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”
Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”
Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”
Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”
Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️
“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”
Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!
The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.
And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.
(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)
Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.
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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 2:
Yandere Bully Gives You Rules to Follow
Part 1
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Blake, the school bully who often elicited terrified looks and sent people scurrying to safety, had for some reason claimed you as his.
"You're mine."
That phrase that Blake had growled to you kept replaying in your addled brain over and over.
You didn't exactly know what that meant. However, given your status as the school's resident nerd, you figured that you were meant to be his sole victim for relentless teasing and harassment.
Yet, there you were: Your hand trapped in a deathgrip from none other than Blake.
The rest of the student body cast disbelieving glances towards the two of you, many of them dropping their jaws in shock at the sight of the terrifying bully and the school nerd walking hand-in-hand.
"The fuck are you lookin' at?" Blake spat at some of them, momentarily letting go of your hand as he did so-- only to wrap a possessive, heavy arm around your shoulders.
The terrified glances from the fearful students flickered from Blake to you before diverting altogether.
Your face burned bright hot and the tiny voice in the back of your head told you to run as fast as you could. You totally would've too, had you not been trapped in the hold of the school bully.
You were too busy panicking on the inside to notice when Blake stopped at your locker, did your combo to unlock it, snatched your Pre-Cal textbook out of it (your first class), and led you towards class.
"Wait," you gasped when you finally put two and two together, "how did you know my--?"
"Give me your phone," Blake grunted as soon as the two of you were at your first period class. He stopped right near the door where the rest of the class could easily see you (and quite a few of the nosey ones were gawking), holding out his free hand expectantly.
Oh! This must've been it.
All Blake had really wanted was your phone.
You mentally berated him for being so weird and cryptic if all he'd wanted was a free phone; but you figured that going without a phone for a bit was leagues better than dealing with the school bully twenty-four/seven; hence, you practically thrusted it at the guy.
Blake ignored your eagerness, still keeping one arm secured around you, trapping you tightly against him. You could smell his body spray permeating your senses and the heat from his larger body was overbearing. In fact, thanks to the unwanted proximity, you could clearly see how Blake towered over you and just how muscled he was-- he could easily manhandle you all day if he wanted (and he seemed to REALLY want to lately).
Blake somehow knew your passcode (1-2-3-4) and began to mess around with your phone using his free hand. Seconds later, he handed it back to you.
Before you could ask what was up, Blake quickly leaned down and--
Out of instinct, you jerked back.
Blake frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line. "That's two," he huffed. "I'll be here when class gets out."
"Wh-why?" you couldn't help but ask.
Blake rolled his eyes at you. "So I can walk you to your next class," he grunted, again making it sound like it was obvious. "I'll see you soon, my angel."
With that, Blake gave you a gentle push towards the classroom as he disappeared among the crowd in the hallway.
Throughout class, you struggled to concentrate on the lecture. The whole time, your thoughts kept drifting back to the scary bully who wouldn't leave you alone. Plus, you were hyperaware of the all of the stares from the other students, hearing murmurings involving Blake and you.
Midway through class, your phone vibrated and you glanced at the notifications to see a rather long text from Blake:
My Angel, here's a set of rules that I expect you to follow:
You belong to me and only me
No talking to any other boys
I will drive you to and from school
I will escort you between classes
You will call me every night no later than 9 PM so I can say "Goodnight"
Every weekend you will stay over at my place
I get to hold you whenever I want
You better tell me if someone bothers you or tries to take you away from me so I can have a "chat" with them
I get at least one kiss per day
Tonight I want you to start calling me "Daddy"
Follow these rules and I promise that I will take good care of you.
But disobey these rules and I will punish you. And you're already at two out of three.
See you soon.
Love you.
The blood drained from your face as you read and re-read the text from Blake.
This had to be some sort of sick joke. The school bully had legit just said that he loved you over text. He was lying... right?
Images of his past victims flashing into your mind: black eyes, people getting the crap beat out of them, relentless tormenting, threats of violence and bodily harm-- just hearing the name "Blake" was enough to send shivers down your spine.
Yet, when you really thought about it, Blake never had bullied YOU specifically...
Your phone buzzed again with another notification, this one with an icon that you didn't recognize:
YAN-Tracker: The location tracking app that let's you keep an eye on those most precious to you...
A tracking app?!
That's what Blake had been doing on your phone, downloading some sort of tracking app?
Instinctively, you went to uninstall it, but as soon as you tried, a notification box popped up, requesting a passcode.
You tried to enter in yours, only to be dismayed that it wasn't the correct one.
Your heart raced in your chest as you mulled over all that had happened recently-- all of the signs pointing to a horrifying realization:
Blake, the school bully, wanted you. And he wanted you badly.
Without another word, you quietly got out of your desk (leaving your phone behind), and tip-toed out of class, praying that Blake wouldn't see you making your escape...
To be continued...
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @eoryn-shit @paninibit @evan-trand @psychicglitterdetective @springkuinn @vinivave
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sexlapis · 6 months
Text
[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS
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꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)
⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.
sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
⪩     ₊     🍪    ✧    ⁺
“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”
“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.
“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.
“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”
“is your name toji fushiguro?”
“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”
the woman simply stares at him.
“..alright then…”
the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”
“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”
TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH
YOUR CAREER
“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”
toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”
“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”
“hm.”
the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”
toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”
“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.
toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.
“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”
“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”
he looks at the examiner.
“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.
“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”
“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”
toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”
the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”
“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.
toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”
“would you consider yourself fit?”
“yep. ‘hundred percent.”
“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”
“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”
he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.
“he is being truthful..again.”
toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”
POP CULTURE
“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.
toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”
“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.
toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”
“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”
“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”
the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”
“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”
LOVE LIFE
toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.
“do you want to get married in the future?”
“yeah, yeah i do.”
the examiner nods.
“have you ever been in love?”
“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.
the examiner nods again.
“are you in love right now?”
toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”
the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”
“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.
“is there someone you’re in love with?”
“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”
“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.
toji sighs. “oh, brother…”
“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”
“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.
“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”
“christ…”
the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”
toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”
“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.
“are you in love with any of these people?”
toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”
“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”
“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”
“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”
toji grumbles.
౨ৎ
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tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000
a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥
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yinyuedijun · 20 days
Text
translation
Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)
5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.
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Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.
Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.
Katican.
Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.
When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.
Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.
But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.
You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.
Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.
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When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.
“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”
“You speak Avgin,” you argue.
“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”
“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”
Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.
You understand him well enough to know that.
“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”
You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.
“I’ll teach you my language as well?”
“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.
You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”
Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.
He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.
“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.
“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.
He hums. “Just one?”
“One per day.”
“Three.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Well, I am a businessman.”
You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.
“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”
“Deal.”
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Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.
It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.
Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.
He regrets it almost immediately.
When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.
“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.
“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”
Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?
But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.
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There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.
There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.
Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.
Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.
Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.
But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.
When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.
“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.
You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”
“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”
You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”
“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”
You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”
“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”
After all, he is the only Avgin left.
It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.
But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.
“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”
Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.
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Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.
But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—
SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE
The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.
He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.
So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.
“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.
“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.
“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”
“You've just reminded me how.”
“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.
“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.
“No, that's so boring.”
“Then let's do your language.”
You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.
“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.
“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”
“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”
You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.
“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”
You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”
And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.
And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.
But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.
SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.
He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—
As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.
His throat locks up.
“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”
He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.
“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”
“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”
He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”
“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”
Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.
“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.
It's a feeling he has to kill.
“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”
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This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.
The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.
If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?
“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”
You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.
Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.
You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.
But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—
Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.
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(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.
It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.
But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.
Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.
His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.
Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.
In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.
Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.
In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.
And he has you. Finally, he has you.
He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)
.
.
.
Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.
You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.
So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.
The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.
This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.
It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.
Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.
I'm sorry for always leaving you.
I'm sorry for making you cry.
I can't bear the thought of losing you.
Freedom would be too lonely without you.
I don't want to hurt you anymore.
I don't want to lie to you anymore.
I missed you.
I want you.
I need you.
I love you.
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end
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afterword
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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How’d they act if you called them pretty upon getting catch looking at them…
Dan Heng: blushes. Hard.
He’s not use to someone complimenting his looks as it’s not something he finds important.
‘Are you really that shameless to say such things aloud?’ He’d say while avoiding eye contact with you.
Dan Heng would act as though you just shouted this out loud in front a hoard of people, even though you didn’t.
He’s awkward when it comes to taking compliments aimed his way but his reaction is too fucking cute to ignore and will warrant another compliment his way, which will only serve in making his face brunt redder.
‘Shut up, please.’ He’d plead as he covers a hand over your eyes, feeling as though they’ve stared deeply into his soul and actually see him as a whole person and more. ‘You talk too much about things you don’t understand the first thing of.’
He’s probably going to get teased by March 7th after this and it’ll be used as blackmail, probably.
Give him a moment to breath and calm down before complimenting on how pretty he is because he will combust from how flustered he is.
Argenti: would probably start a compliment war in all honesty because how can you say he’s pretty without admitting that you are also quite a sight for sore eyes.
If you were to compliment his hair, he’d resort back with how even the stars put on their best performance within your presence.
He’s got such a way with words that can easily leave one flustered without even trying. He’d even wax poetry on the spot about how the light catches your eyes in a way similar to that of a kaleidoscope, bright, vibrant and above all breathtaking.
Argenti doesn’t hold back, will not hold back, and will not back down from letting you know just how ethereal you look to him.
He can do this all day, you however could not do this all day seeing how this man has unlimited ammunition when it came to complimenting the beauty of pretty much everything.
(I mean this is the same dude who complimented a plant. 🪴 I bet that plant blushed, we just didn’t see it bc who wouldn’t blush if a chivalrous red head complimented them?)
Welt: smiles softly as a light blush coated his cheeks.
He’s well kept for someone who’s in his 60/70/80’s And he deserves to be told as such!
(all I know is that he’s grandpa age from other ppl)
So when you do compliment him and call him pretty, this old man is going to thank you for such kind words and probably give you head pats as a reward.
He appreciates a kind compliment now and then.
‘Why thank you, I try my best to keep in good shape if I’m meant to keep up with all of you.’ He would say in response followed by a chuckle.
Welt is young at heart and knows that his body isn’t how it once was but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a restless spirit within an old man’s body. So when you compliment him, it only makes him feel good and warm on the inside.
Blade: doesn’t know how to take compliments.
He’s not use to it and doesn’t know how to react to it other than saying something along the lines of;
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’
Or just straight up. ‘No.’
And all the while his face is like this: 😐 or this 😒
It’s never one or the other, blade just doesn’t view himself worth the compliment, when the only things about him that people see most is that he’s a bad dude in a bad group doing bad things.
He doesn’t see why you’re wasting a kind, genuine compliment on someone whose entire body is riddled in ugly scars.
Blade is the type of person where you’d have to prove that your compliment is genuine or else he just won’t believe it.
Sampo: his ego is boosted to the max.
Well done you’ve made him even more insufferable.
He will smile that Cheshire smile of his and ask to hear what else about him you find appealing besides his pretty face.
You: your exposed hips, you slut-
However behind his cocky persona, he’s a giggly bitch who’s mentally kicking his feet and writing this interaction in his bubblegum pink diary with a glitter pen.
Sampo is deeply invested in what you thought about the rest of him but won’t let it show as he would consider it ‘out of character’ for himself. So he’ll continue to act the cocky and confident fool like he always does.
He’ll be the type to tease you about potentially killing him while internally screaming himself and telling other people that you find him pretty, much to your embarrassment.
‘You see them over there? Yeah they called ol’ Sampo pretty!’ He’d say to a random person while pointing towards you as you try to hide yourself behind a trash can…only for the trash can to grow arms and legs and walk off elsewhere.
Why were the arms and legs buff as fuck? What was their workout routine? You must know. now.
Sunday: takes the compliment in kind.
He looks like the type to get called handsome or pretty on the daily, so it’s nothing new to him but he’ll take the compliment nonetheless.
He’s probably the most calm out of the bunch when being called pretty, besides from maybe Welt.
He’s not bashful, he’s not overtly arrogant and he’s not in denial about it either. He just takes the compliment as it is and goes on about his day like any other.
Though people would take note on how he’s smiling brighter than usual. Your compliment would stay with him the entire day, as it serves as a reminder of his place within your heart and he’s secretly scheming on ways on how to stay within your heart.
Permanently.
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kenntolog · 15 days
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….. what if sukuna steals you’re phone while you’re scrolling on it and you magically pull a book out from behind your back because you predicted him to do that……
Bonus if he takes that too and closes it without a bookmark as he watches the smirk leave your face
an: hey anon!! sorry for the delay, hope u enjoy this :)) read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
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one thing that never fails to piss sukuna off if when people, specifically you, ignore him.
at first, whenever you start ignoring him — usually because he’s been too mean with his comments or behaviour towards you or has done something to make you really mad — his tactic is to just ignore you back. but that’s boring, sukuna gets bored so easily that he realises how pathetic he actually is. he even finds silence with you not boring. he could sleep on your chest at least.
so then, sukuna tries to woo you with affection; he kisses up your arms and call you his baby, his pretty girl and his one and only woman, he shoves his head between your arms and chest to kiss your face and not let you watch whatever the fuck you are watching on your phone(or reading, maybe even drawing). that usually is enough to melt the ice and say something resembling apologies.
if that doesn’t work, then it’s time for heavy artillery — he just takes your phone, throwing it away somewhere with no care and watches the way your unmoving features turn shocked and you finally talk to him(start complaining until he shuts you up with a kiss).
this time you seem to be prepared because when he takes your phone you pull out a damn book from under your pillow.
“what the hell?” sukuna curses at you, frowning when he notices the confident curve of your lips as you indulge yourself once again.
so after another period of silence he just rips the book out of your hand. at that you just stare at him, still stonefaced, just a curious brow raised.
that is until sukuna flips through the pages and closes the book quickly, letting the bookmark fall off somewhere, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of your smirk immediately disappearing.
“sukuna!”
he continues cackling like a maniac, clearly enjoying the bewilderment of your tone and happy that you finally talked to him.
“you’re such an ass,” you grumble, taking the book from him and frantically looking through pages to find the one you were reading last. “who even does that? that’s pure evil.”
he watches you with a sickly satisfied smile on his pleased face and takes the book away from once again, this time minding the bookmark you placed. sukuna wraps his arms around you tightly, bringing you to his chest.
“shouldn’t have ignored me for so long, loser, y’know i hate it.”
“that’s why i did it.”
“i will burn your book.”
you look up at him with a scared expression, suspecting that he might just really do that if you carry on, and he just continues smiling down at you like nothing happened. leaning down to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, sukuna finally feels you give into his touch, relaxing in his hold as you start rambling(complaining) about him being mean while he just dismisses everything you say, your soft voice lulling him to sleep.
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bedoballoons · 8 months
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Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}
I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}
CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!
(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.
He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.
So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..
He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.
"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.
"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.
𑁍༄Venti:
"I actually do have feelings for someone."
The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"
A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"
The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...
𑁍༄Freminet:
Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.
"Enough."
You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.
Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"
𑁍༄Aether:
Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.
He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.
Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.
Just. You.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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eldritchdreamss · 3 months
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Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?
One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.
For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.
“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.
After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.
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thef1diary · 3 months
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Little Big Fan | Three
— Little Big Race
Series Masterlist
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Usually, you had a hard time waking your daughter up, and unfortunately she got that habit from you. It was something your mother laughed at a lot whenever you told her about it. She would always say, "you were a troublesome child so now you have a troublesome child but she's cuter."
Today was a different story, Isabella was the one waking you up. "Mama, mama, mama, wake up, we have to see Maxy race today!" She jumped up and down on the bed even though you've tried to tell her not to.
Groaning, you peeked out the blanket to see the biggest toothy smile on your daughter's face and it should've been enough to wake you up. You looked over and saw the time, it was way too early for her to be this energetic. You still have no idea how she musters up so much energy in her little body.
"Bella, qualifying is seven hours away, let's sleep a little longer?" You asked and easily wrapped your arms around your little one. Covering her in the blanket, you hoped to at least get another hour of sleep.
It took her less than two minutes to fall back asleep in her mother's arms. That habit, was from her father who never had an issue of being unable to sleep quickly.
The hour passed by rather quickly, and this time Isabella woke up as soon as she felt you getting off the bed. The giddy excitement was still there and rightfully so but it was a little calmer than an hour ago.
Since you only had to order room service instead of cooking breakfast, the morning was a lot less stressful for you. As soon as Isabella was finished eating breakfast, she ran to her little suitcase and took out her outfit for the day.
Once you helped her change, your little girl was decked in a blue dress with red glittery clips in her hair according to her wishes, her reason being, "Maxy always wears red and blue."
Soon enough, you two were enroute towards the track. You had gotten your passes when you first checked in at the hotel because Max had dropped them off before you arrived.
It was simple enough finding your way towards the entrance, but it was a whole different story after. There were so many people, albeit less than outside, and they all looked like they knew where they were going.
Holding Isabella's hand tightly, you continued walking in hopes to figure out where you're supposed to go. "Where's Max, mama?" Your daughter asked but you didn't have an exact answer.
"Hopefully somewhere around here, angel." You contemplated calling him, unsure whether or not he'd be busy. But then again, if he is then he won't pickup so there was no harm in trying.
Keeping your gaze on Isabella, you called him. After two rings, he picked up, "Hi, I was just about to call you, are you here?" You could hear him panting on the other end as if he ran to pick up your call, but you decided not to comment on it.
"Yeah, I don't know exactly where we are though," He laughed on the other end, "it's okay, just describe the area and I'll come find you." 
You did as he instructed and Max was walking towards you within three minutes. However, he was not alone, there was another man in different coloured teamwear walking next to him. 
Isabella's smile grew when she spotted Max but since you were holding her hand, she couldn't run towards him. Max crouched down and held his hand up so Isabella could give him a high-five. 
The man standing next to him the same, and Isabella was mesmerized, gasping, "Daniel Ricciardo." She probably butchered the pronunciation of his surname but he didn't seem to mind.
Max shook his head, "no, Isabella, he's Daniel Avocado." The comment made Daniel burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in. 
The sound of your laugh directed Max's gaze towards you and once it was on you, it was stuck there. Even when Daniel nudged him and asked, "introductions?" 
A few seconds passed by without Max saying anything so to save him from further embarrassment, Daniel decided to take the liberty of introductions. Once you introduced yourself to him, Daniel had a knowing smile on his face. 
"So you're the one who's daughter ran away because of Max," he chuckled while your cheeks grew red in embarrassment, "unfortunately yes, how did you hear about that?" You asked, having an idea that Max probably told him.
But the answer Daniel gave you was surprising, "I've heard the story around ten times so far since someone keeps bringing you up in conversations." 
Max's eyes widened but you laughed, "is that so? Well Isabella hasn't stopped talking about Max either." 
You and Daniel collectively looked at Isabella who was still starstruck by not one but two drivers, the shock of being in the paddock finally catching up to her. Then the two of you looked at Max, who was also unusually quiet according to Daniel, and burst out laughing once again.
"Looks like both of them had too much to say and now it's not enough," Daniel commented and you agreed with a nod. "Your daughter is adorable by the way," he added to fill the silence and nudged Max harshly when you looked at her. 
"How about I show you around?" Max finally found his words, and you looked at him skeptically, "I don't want to take up your time if you have something else to do." 
"I've got some time, plus it would be very unfair if you came all the way here and I didn't spend time with you and Isabella." Max didn't wait for a response from you, instead turning his gaze towards your little one, "right?" 
Isabella gave him a sharp nod, and you couldn't help but smile as you saw the two interact. "Alright then, lead the way." 
It took him thirty minutes to show you around the paddock, but he mainly focused on the RedBull Energy Center, as that was where all the driver's guests could relax and enjoy some team catered meals.
Isabella asked him all sorts of questions, and Max even stopped for an extra minute to grab some noise cancelling earmuffs for her little ears. 
Your eyes widened when he placed them on her head, mentally cursing at the fact that out of all the things you could've forgotten, it was the headphones. Once again, before you could hide your expression, Max noticed it and muttered, "it's okay, that's why we have them here." 
He explained that since it was his home grand prix—something you didn't know until he mentioned it—most of the fans were rooting for him. 
Then, Max was approached by someone from his team, telling him that he was needed back in the garage. The rest of the day passed by quite fast. You watched qualifying from the hospitality as per Max's suggestions. 
As the session continued, you slowly understood some of the terminology, but it would still take a few more races to fully understand what is going on. On the other hand, Isabella clapped happily every time Max's RedBull passed by, and you even joined her after a few times. 
It is race day. You and Isabella were back in the paddock and this time you had figured out where to go. You were proud of yourself for navigating the area after only being shown around once. You reached later than you hoped due to the traffic, but fortunately, there was still a while before the race began.
Max had told you to meet him near the garages and when you neared them, you could see him speaking expressively to a small group of people. Based on their outfits, you knew they were drivers. The only one you remembered other than Max was Daniel, as you've met him yesterday. 
"Mama, walk faster," your daughter urged, her pace fastened as soon as she spotted Max, tugging you along. You were glad that she didn't leave your hand. 
"Maxy!" Your daughter cheered as soon as she was in hearing range of the drivers. They all collectively turned towards the noise, Max's face lighting up as soon as his gaze landed on you two. 
"Isabella!" Max cheered with the same amount of energy, and you let go of your daughter's hand so she could run up to him. 
He greeted you as well, taking a step closer to you and with a sheepish smile on his face he spoke, "I got something for her." Max said quietly enough so Isabella didn't hear him, since he wanted your approval first before he revealed his surprise. 
You nodded, encouraging him and with a big smile he placed a cap on Isabella's head, surprising her. She took it off to look at it and when she saw his driver's number on the cap, she gasped.
Then, she placed it back on her head and turned to look at you, "mama, look!" You chuckled, "very nice, what do you say, angel?" 
Isabella didn't think twice before hugging him, "thank you, thank you, thank you!" 
Max held out another cap for you, and before you could say anything he added, "I need everyone to know who you're cheering for." Deciding to tease him you responded, "what if I want to cheer for Daniel?" 
You saw his smile drop, making you break out into a smile to let him know you were just joking. You pointed to the number on the cap, "number 1 driver, yeah,” you stated, the implication of him being the number one driver both literally and figuratively was heard loud and clear.  
"Mama," Isabella grabbed your attention, pointing at the driver in a red suit that you've yet to be introduced to. "Lightning McQueen," she added, making the group of drivers around you laugh at her words. 
Charles pointed at himself, "me?" he looked at you for an answer and you nodded, "yeah, can you really blame her though, you're all decked out in red." 
As if you were lying, he looked down and then shrugged, "fair." 
Isabella was content with being the center of attention between the drivers that you now know the names of; Charles, Lando, Alex, and George.
Max pulled you aside. "I wanted to ask you this yesterday but we didn't have time. Do you think Isabella would like it if I let her sit inside my car?" 
Your mouth quite literally dropped open, and you had to blink a few times as if it would make you understand his words better. "Huh?" is all that left your mouth. 
"My car? Is she going to like it?" He asked again and you nodded, "she would love that, are you even allowed to do that?" 
He chuckled at your question, "it's my car, I think I can do anything I want with it." 
Before he could turn around to speak to Isabella, you reached for his hand to stop him, "Max, you have no idea how much this would mean to her." He nodded in understanding, "make sure to take lots of pictures." 
You heard her squeal in excitement as soon as Max asked the question, watching her eagerly nod. You followed them into the garage, heart warming at how Max held Isabella's hand the entire time. 
With the way Isabella hasn't stopped smiling, you would think her smile was permanently stuck on her face. You took loads of pictures, a few even with Max's helmet on her head that was way too big for her. 
Even the team principal, Christian Horner, stopped for a moment to look at the joy on both Isabella and Max's face. It would make one think that it was Max’s first time around a F1 car as well.
By the time the race started, Isabella's energy had significantly drained, but she remained awake for the entirety of the race. Watching the race from the garage unlocked a different joy on her face, and she would cheer when Max came into the pits for fresher tyres. 
As soon as her eyes drooped, something would occur in the race that would cause her to brighten up again. Max barely had to overtake as he started off in pole position, only needing to pass the other drivers after coming out of the pitlane. 
Just like Isabella, your eyes didn't waver away from the race despite how fast your heart was beating due to nervousness about the drivers' speeds. 
You knew they were the best of the best, very professional, but ever since you've gotten to know them personally, you couldn't help but worry for them. Especially Max. 
Turns out, you didn't have to worry too much as Max crossed the finish line first, winning the race in front of his home crowd. 
Everything after that was a blur. You just remember Christian leading you towards the crowd underneath the podium, ensuring that no one had the audacity to push or shove you. Isabella was safely in your arms, watching the celebrations with wide but sleepy eyes. 
As soon as she saw the trophy being handed to Max, she rested her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. 
Once the champagne was sprayed, you made your way through the crowd, walking towards the exit. Your daughter was sound asleep and you didn't want the noise waking her up and disturbing her much needed rest. 
Other than the one extra hour of rest in the morning, she hadn't taken any naps since she was mesmerized by everything around her. Now, since it was all over, all you focused on was getting back to the hotel. 
As soon as Isabella was comfortably in bed, you decided to take a shower to wash away all the built up and dried sweat. While you were busy, your phone rang with two calls, both from Max, that were inevitably sent to voicemail. 
After your shower, you ordered some food and turned on the tv in the other room. Around fifteen minutes went by before there was a knock on your door. Thinking it was room service with your dinner, you opened it without checking who it really was.
Max was stood on the other side, changed out of his race suit but still in a Redbull polo.
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moki-dokie · 6 months
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been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.
this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.
yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)
"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.
there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.
yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.
i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.
i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.
i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.
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tarotwithavi · 3 months
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The type of lover you deserve
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.
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Pile 1
Omg pile one I love your energy! So first things first you deserve someone who matches your energy. Like someone who understands you without even saying anything. Someone who can just look into your eyes and feel the depths of your heart. Someone who can protect and cherish your innocence. You're naive pile 1. You trust people easily and sometimes this leads you to people using you for their profit. You deserve someone who can protect you, someone who can cherish your innocence. Someone who won't taint your pure and sweet heart. Someone who won't tell you to change and be someone you're not. You deserve someone who won't tell you that you're too kind for this world and that you need to change yourself in order to survive. You deserve someone who'll let you be innocent and sweet. You deserve someone who'll be proud to have you in their life. You deserve someone who'll be sure about yourself. Someone who's ready to wife/husband you up without any doubt. You deserve someone who'll make your feel confident. I see that some of you may have daddy issues so you instantly like people who give off mature and responsible vibes. You deserve someone with whom you can share your deepest darkest secrets. Someone who won't judge you for liking things that you like, dressing the way you want to etc. you deserve someone who'll teach you new things without making you feel stupid. Someone who'll be patient with you. You deserve someone who knows how to handle their emotions, especially Anger because I see that you may have some kind of trauma revolving anger issues or people shouting and things breaking. I see that you guys had to grow up early, you had to be mature beyond your age, sometimes you feel like you missed out on so many things. So you deserve someone with whom your inner child can feel protected, secure and happy. You deserve someone who can give you the love you never got as a child. You guys could be born in June, March, November or August or these could be significant months for you.
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Pile 2
Welcome pile 2! The first message I'm getting is that someone of you could practice witchcraft or you could be interested in the occult. You could be interested in conspiracy theories or things that people do not talk about so openly. I also see that you could give off intimidating vibes. So you deserve someone who doesn't get scared easily. You deserve someone who has similar interests as you, probably someone with whom you can do witchy stuff. Pile 2 you deserve someone who understands your magic. Someone who believes in magic. Someone who is not too practical or logical like that type of practical person who doesn't believe in magik. Someone who can think outside the box. You deserve someone who learns, grows and adapts with time. You do not deserve someone who lives like an NPC. You deserve someone who matches your uniqueness, someone who is not afraid to let themselves shine. You deserve someone with whom you can travel to different places. I see that you are someone who likes taking risks so you deserve someone who has the same adventurous soul. You deserve someone who matches your freaky energy 😜 I see that you have a lot of stamina and deserve someone who matches your energy in bed. You're absolutely magical so you deserve someone who can handle your otherworldly energy. You deserve someone who can make your every wish come true. You deserve someone who is willing to put in the effort to be with you. You deserve someone who can offer you something in return. I see that you have been the type of person who does more than needed for others so you deserve someone who can spend money on you and spend time with you. You deserve someone who can show you how lovely it is to love and be loved. I also see that you deserve someone who can handle pain for some reason? Idk you deserve someone who won't feel pity for your backstory. You deserve someone who won't look at you with sympathy, instead you deserve someone who can challenge you because you love challenges. You could be an Earth or water sign, especially cancer, Pisces, Virgo and Capricorn.
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Pile 3
Whatsup! Pile 3! The first message I am picking upon is that you deserve someone who is willing to fight for your attention. you deserve someone who is ready to fight for your relationship. You deserve someone who does not give up easily. I see that sometimes you can be hard to love because you are always evolving, you are always changing, you are not the person you were a few months ago and some people cannot keep up with it. So you deserve someone who can keep up with your transformations, someone who will not stop loving you just because you have changed. You deserve someone who loves you for your soul, who loves you for your true self. you deserve someone who is willing to make things work. you deserve someone who wants stable long term commitment. you do not deserve somebody who is just looking for casual dating. I'm also picking up on the message that you deserve someone who treats you like a Queen. you deserve someone who gives you princess treatment and if your person is not willing to give you princess treatment then they might not be the one for you. You deserve someone who takes up on the traditional image of their gender, someone who is willing to provide and protect. I see that you romanticize old love, you romanticize when people used to write letters, were patient, and were ready to love. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve someone who treats your body like a temple, who worships your body. Someone who worships the ground you walk. Someone who puts you on a pedestal. You absolutely deserve to be treated like a queen. And let me make one thing clear: you'll only receive this treatment when you're willing to treat your person like a king. You deserve someone who is willing to learn new things for you, you deserve someone who is willing to change their perspective about things. You deserve someone who is also evolving and changing so you guys can keep up with each other.
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Pile 4
This is definitely my crazy pile 🤣 Hello pile 4! Welcome to your reading! You deserve someone who matches your weird energy like someone who is willing to be strange, loud and crazy with you. You deserve someone who is open and wholesome. I see that you do not give a buck about what people say and you just want to be your true self. You love spreading happiness and kindness. I am hearing “ she likes to give a smile to every stranger” . You should listen to “she's crazy but she's mine” . You're a walking representation of this song. You deserve someone who won't feel awkward by your energy, you deserve someone who does not feel threatened by the attention you attract. I see that you have a really unique energy that attracts a lot of attention wherever you go. You could be sitting there reading your book and people would still be looking at you like you are a star so you deserve somebody who does not feel insecure about the attention you attract. You deserve someone who is confident, you deserve someone who won't make you dim your light. You deserve someone who is just as crazy as you are , you deserve somebody who can match your vibe. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve somebody who is kind and humble because you are someone who likes spreading love around and you are someone who likes helping people. You do not like dishonest and ungrateful people. You deserve someone with whom you can help others. You deserve someone who is just as passionate about life as you are. You deserve an optimistic person. I see that you have gone through a lot of betrayals but you still choose to believe in love and happiness. You deserve an emotionally mature person, you deserve someone who feels their emotion and does not sabotage themselves. You deserve someone who loves children who loves working with children and animals. I see that you will be doing charity work with your future partner. You deserve someone who is interested in space, dinosaurs and random facts.
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