#[ IT'S BEEN A GOOD WHILE SINCE I READ ABOUT THEM ]

[aliceoseman]

s3 dealt with some more mature themes than s1&2 did, did you struggle with that in any way or did it feel like a natural development for the characters? especially since heartstopper has been praised specifically for being a "wholesome" show basically from the start, did you find it in any way daunting to write (more) sex and alcohol into the show?

(Upon reading this back, I have only talked about sex, not alcohol, very sorry!! Also this gets really off topic but this was the only question I received about sex in the show and I have a lot to say that I just didn't get asked about at all in any promo interviews, so... Here I shall word vomit!!)

Short answer: Yes, I struggled, but not with the writing of the story - just with the general discourse about sex/no sex in Heartstopper, since the beginning of the show.

Long answer:

It wasn't something I struggled with when writing the comic. I always knew that Heartstopper would get to that point - that it would grow up alongside the characters - but the general cultural view of the show as 'wholesome' vs. the criticism of it for being 'puritanical' and 'sexless' has definitely made me feel quite anxious about how these maturer elements would be interpreted by people in the show.

I never saw Heartstopper as 'wholesome' when I started creating the comic. The first chapter of the comic leads to a scene featuring assault, and the story deals heavily with mental health and bullying. The comic has swearing throughout. Whether the story was 'wholesome' was simply not a topic of discourse before the TV show released - I knew it was uplifting and optimistic, of course, but only in the same way that most YA romance stories are. So the public declaration of the Heartstopper show as 'wholesome' - as its defining characteristic and unique selling point - did take me by surprise. I'd had to remove the swearing from the story, but aside from that, I couldn't really understand what was different with the show compared to the comic, and why this was its defining feature. And then of course some of the conversation shifted to the fact that in S1 and S2, there's no sex.

This too confused me. I always felt the sexual attraction between N&C was obvious from the start, and sex itself was introduced into the story at the time I felt was right for the characters, with no real thought as to whether the audience would agree with me. People hardly ever pointed out the lack of sex in the comic - it's very, very normal for YA fiction romances to not feature sex, and in fact, it's actually pretty common for teen movies and shows to not feature sex, certainly when they skew towards younger teens as Heartstopper did in S1 and S2. But for some reason, when the Heartstopper show came around, people really, really noticed the lack of sex, and I was very surprised by that reaction. I wonder if it was because people weren't accustomed to that in queer TV, or if it was because people liked N&C so much as a couple and desperately wanted to see them take that step, or just because people felt it was broadly unrealistic for a teen couple to wait a little while before feeling ready to have sex. Perhaps it was all. But whatever it was, it caused some... outcry!

(I could go into arguments as to whether it is morally correct or generally realistic for N&C to wait before having sex in the story, but ultimately I think people's opinion on that varies heavily depending on their worldview and personal experience, and there's no right answer - people can like it or not like it and that's completely fine, not every tv show is for everyone - but the one thing I would say is that I think it shows young readers/viewers that it's OKAY to not be ready, and how to have that conversation with your partner, and I think that's a really, really good and helpful thing for young people)

Fortunately for those who were distressed by the lack of sex in the show, and for me who was anxious about all of that criticism, I'd been planning for the story to reach that stage pretty soon anyway. It honestly made me relieved that it was going to be introduced, if only to reassure people that I wasn't pretending sex doesn't exist or that I, as an asexual, was spreading some sort of anti-sex agenda (seemed to be a common refrain among those who find it particularly annoying that I'm ace). But mainly - I'd always known this would be a really important step in N&C's journey, and I wanted to do it justice, and I felt I had done so in the comic, but with the TV show came all of those opinions and discourse, so I was much more nervous about it and spent a lot of time during the writing process trying to figure out how people would feel about it. An impossible task, and before S3 released, I had no idea what the reaction would be.

In the end it was pretty anti-climactic - it got hyped up a bit too much in the early promo for S3, and then the general consensus was that the sex in the show was shown with a very light touch, and some people thought that was a good thing and others did not. And people still call the show sexless and puritanical, so it didn't really solve that issue. (I'm just not sure what those people really expected to happen - obviously they are not going to suddenly start fucking on screen in a show that's been previously marketed for the 12-16 age bracket, guys, let's use our brains here) Personally, I'm really proud of how that element of the story turned out. I think the scenes are really beautiful and feel totally right for the tone of the story, and have let the show mature without suddenly becoming an entirely different show.

This has been a long answer but I think what I'm trying to say is this: the 'mature' vs 'wholesome' scale of Heartstopper is something that has never been a topic of discourse for the comic. But it has been front and centre for the show, and certainly is something that has caught me off guard and caused me some anxiety, because I do see the criticism and it does hurt, and at times feels incredibly personal. But at the end of the day, I'm just telling a story, and the things that happen will happen at the time I feel is right for the characters. I just want to tell the story that I've set out to tell, and I intend to keep doing so until it is done.

If we get a S4, and indeed now that I am working on Vol 6, I am thinking much less about how the audience might react to the sex in the story, and am simply just writing/drawing what feels emotionally and dramatically right for the story and characters. And that feels much more creatively freeing!

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

This!

I love to sing. I’ve been singing on stage and at every opportunity since I was 5.

I have traveled the country to sing. I volunteered to be awake every day at 4am and not get home till midnight during the final week of a semester every year to do extra singing as a kid.

I’ve sang with opera companies and local theaters and ballet companies as a volunteer.

When I was the age I was doing this, my dad told me to do what I love for a living and I’ll never work a day in my life.

The thing is singing is work. A lot of it. And it’s hard work.

(There are some lucky people who could refuse to do a lot of the things I’m about to get into and still be successful professional singers, but I promise you, they are not the majority of musicians.)

Specifically, I hate reading sheet music. I can read it and I’m really good as sight reading. But I hate it.

I hate wearing makeup. The older you get, the more you’re expected to wear makeup.

I hate heels. And shaving. And a slew of other things you are expected to do all the time if you’re a singer as an adult female. Dresses and bras and spanks and UGH! No thank you.

And here’s another thing. I watched my older sister who also loves to sing pursue being an opera singer since the age of 13.

She worked a job as early as 14 to pay for her own piano lessons. She went to a fine arts high school and trained under one of the most prestigious soprano opera coaches in the world. She couldn’t get into a college of the same caliber, but studied music anyway.

I watched her bleach her hair to straw and then stop. Over eat and then starve herself with a scary diet. Worry about her makeup every damn day and wear heels around the house so she would be used to them. Fret over outfits being exactly what would be acceptable in her profession of choice to the point where she didn’t have clothes for clubbing with friends. She wore a pink sweater and white pencil skirt to go clubbing with a friend once. She looked like she was going to church.

She got her 1st degree in music education because she couldn’t audition for an opera company till she was 35, and then didn’t use it because she hated teaching children.

She proceeded to work retail and food service and hate it and be miserable and mean to everyone around her because of it.

She became so critical of MY singing and MY appearance because she assumed I’d follow her footsteps to being a professional singer. I couldn’t sing to myself while doing chores without her stopping me to tell me I’d done xyz wrong. I couldn’t buy and wear a dress for an event without her spending hours telling me why it was ugly and how I’d get raped in it. (Nevermind how many other people told me it looked lovely, that shit sticks in your head in a bad way.)

She tried to force me into a diet at 14. I was 5’5 and 130lbs soaking wet.

She called me lazy for not having to energy and drive to pay for my own piano lessons. Nevermind that my teenager level paycheck was going to pay for my own medical care.

I know she kept going back to school for music and was working on her doctorate at one point because our brother told me about it. I have no idea if she’s auditioned and been accepted by an opera company or not. I stopped talking to her over a decade ago because I couldn’t take her abuse anymore.

She took dad’s advice so literally that she worked herself into a terrible person. She was just as miserable as our dad who didn’t follow his dreams at all because of money if not more so.

I watched her doing these things to herself and others and by 14 I realized I did not want that for myself.

I tried a few different things. I thought I might be a lawyer or historian or even a teacher.

In the end, college was awful for me. I never finished despite getting a head start on it at 15. I worked retail jobs until I landed my current position.

I like it a lot. More importantly, I love the life it affords me.

I like the work. It’s fairly repetitive and easy to manage. It even is contributing to a cause I find to be important to bettering the world.

I like the people I work with. I get to work from home and watch tv while I work and have a cat on my lap. I almost never have to get dressed unless I have an in-person meeting. Virtual meetings? No one cares what I’m wearing as long as I’m fully clothed. I’m far from the only one who doesn’t shave or wear makeup despite it being a female dominated space. It’s LGBTQ+ friendly and is actually being ahead of the curve on inclusion in many respects (wild for being in a red state).

Sometimes I get paid to eat s’mores and go on scavenger hunts. My hours are flexible. I have almost 400 hours of saved up sick time I can use. My boss is human and accommodating for things like death in the family even though my family now is a found family.

My pay isn’t stellar because my job is “entry level” but it still pays better than most anything else I’m qualified for without a college degree.

And I can afford to sing.

I sing with 2 local choral ensembles regularly. One of them requires me to wear makeup and shave and wear costumes when we perform. One just wants me to wear all black and not smell bad.

I volunteer to sing with fellow alumni of the prestigious children’s choir I grew up with. Their appearance requirements are somewhere in between the other two.

And I love it because it’s for me. I could stop if one group or another ever stopped filling my cup. I don’t have to read sheet music daily or panic over auditions or spend every day working on pieces I hate.

It’s lovely, because I can still love it.

This isn’t to say you can’t love the grind.

One of my choral ensembles had a director (we recently lost her due to a move) who does singing, our specific kind of singing, for a living. She scrapes by financially with making learning tracks and teaching and coaching. Her travel schedule is crazy because the quartet she performs and competes with live all over the country and they perform and teach all over the world. She wears makeup all the time and cute clothes and is comfortable in heels and navigating stages without her glasses.

Unlike my sister, she’s happy doing these things, but it still looks exhausting.

I don’t want to have to live her schedule. I don’t have her energy levels and never have.

I value my peace and I want my music to be for me. Not a pay check. I want to be able to interpret music and put in artistry I like sometimes. But other times I’m perfectly happy just being part of the group that meets once a week.

Figure out if depending on your art to eat would make you hate it. If so, do something else that you like and can afford you the life and art you love.

I see a lot of people who tell young people–especially young people who are heading into college–that they should “do what they love.” And they’re right. You should do what you love.

But there’s a world of difference between doing what you love for you, and doing what you love for a paycheck. 

I went to undergrad for graphic design and 3-D design–art and more art, I usually say–and I loved it. You know what I didn’t love? Trying to collect my fees from clients. Trying to meet unrealistic, over-simplified or over-specific briefs from people who didn’t know what they were talking about. Coming home, having worked creatively all day, with no creative juice left for the things I wanted to do.

You know what I would tell you instead? Do something that you can be interested in, with people you like.

You don’t have to love it. Loving your work can be a lot, and it often means you have to live in your job 24/7. Some people can do that. Not everyone can, or should.  But if you can find work that’s interesting enough that it doesn’t feel tedious, and people you can enjoy spending your 9-5 with, and you can make money, that’s great! It means you can do the things you love for you.

I’m in law school now. It’s interesting work, and difficult, and I like doing it. I like how complicated it gets, and I like the stories it tells. But I don’t come home and read law journals for fun. I come home, and I sculpt, and I draw, and I paint, and I read. I do these things for me.

And I love it. 

[myownwholewildworld]

DARKEST DESIRES ― a Boston QZ!Joel oneshot

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: Boston QZ!Joel x f!reader. summary: you promised Joel something he's been thirsting after for a while ― your ass. so you decide to make good on said promise. a/n: am i sick? probably. undoubtedly, really. this is a sequel to A Dark Summon, but it can totally be read independently. this was prompted by this kind ask (love you, nonnie). also, do you remember that post about frankie morales saying "big stretch"? WELL, YEAH (sorry, meant to tag it but i lost it!). anyways, please heed the warnings! comments and reblogs appreciated to keep the thots thotting <3 take care! x warnings: 18+, mdni. sexual roleplay (cnc). mind the hefty age gap (reader is 19, joel is 56, oopsie). pet names (kiddo, daddy's girl, little girl, etc). sir/daddy kink. dom!joel, sub!reader (possibly some ddlg dynamics). slut shaming. unprotected piv. squirting. sleepy blowjob (consensual somno). breath play. sex toys (dildo, butt plug). mention of rimming. joel (the birthday boy) fucks your virginal ass, anal sex (faked painal). reader is a blank slate with no backstory, has hair. dual pov. no use of y/n. w/c: ~5.4k. divider by @\cafekitsune

You were so nervous, your hands were shaking with excitement.

Living in Boston’s QZ was not easy, and trading was even worse. Because you were young―just turned nineteen a couple of months ago―dealers tried to take advantage of you, asking for more than they would to other people. But you were smart and the moment you learnt that dropping Joel’s name in conversation would actually give you a discount, you used that tactic frequently.

Most people in Boston were too preoccupied with life to be gossiping about the age difference between Joel and you, but there were some that would scan you from head to toe several times with disdain. Some with jealousy, others with horror.

“She’s too young, could be his daughter.”

“He’s too old, bet he can’t keep up with her.”

“She’s too young, it’s indecent.”

“He’s too old, I’m sure that little girl can’t satisfy him like I would.”

“She’s too young, no wonder why she’s always cheating on him.”

“He’s too old, I don’t know what he’s seen in her.”

You had heard it all. And you couldn’t care less. Joel, on the other hand, was a bit more sensitive when people criticized you ― like a guard dog protecting its prey. The relationship between the two of you was private, except for the times that you would hook up with a random guy in an alley with Joel attentively spying on you from the shadows.

He liked to watch, and you liked being watched. In your eyes, it was a match made in heaven. It never went further than a hand job, and you never let them touch your pussy ― Joel was extremely possessive of her. He enjoyed the look on their stupid faces whenever you pulled away, leaving them dumbfounded in the brink of an orgasm, and you would run to him, all giddy and ready to finish him off right there and then.

It was lewd, obscene, but you loved it. And so did he. Joel had shown you a whole new world when he took your virginity almost a year ago. Since then, you had been insatiable, too eager to be fucked stupid by your old man. Your daddy.

Every day you would sneak out and come over to his place to be pumped full of his cum, to have him drill you until you forgot your name and your legs wouldn’t keep you upright. And then you would go back home, spent yet satisfied, with your pussy full to the brim and your panties drenched with your mixed arousal.

Today though you were planning on spending the night here. It was Joel’s birthday and you had planned a special surprise for him. One that had cost you, but the price was definitely worth it.

You knew how avid Joel was about fucking your ass ― he almost reminded you daily. He had been preparing you for when the time came, some mild anal play to get you going. Last night, as Joel ate your asshole out, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t postpone it anymore and today would be the day. What better present for Joel than your virginal ass?

So here you were, all naked and squeaky clean for him. You had draped a red ribbon around your waist. A big, scarlet bow laid low on the small of your back, making it obvious what his gift was. You also had a smaller parcel, all wrapped up with some old newspapers.

The moment you heard the front door creak, your heart jolted with anticipation and your stomach flipped. Turning around to face away from him, you dropped to your knees and leaned forward until your forehead rested on the floor and your knees touched your chest ― your ass on full display for him.

“Kiddo?” he called.

Joel’s brows furrowed deeper when he didn’t hear a reply. He knew you were here, your recognisable scent betraying your presence. Confused, he walked the small hallway and entered the living room.

His eyes immediately fell to where you were positioned, and a rush of hot blood coursed through his veins like liquid fire, all the way down to his groin. You had knelt and bent over, your perky ass up in the air for him to admire. A red bow topped your ass cheeks, the meaning of all this becoming instantly clear.

With a sly grin, Joel rubbed his palms together, taking a step forward.

“You’ve not forgotten about my birthday, have you, sugar?” he croaked, raspy and hoarse.

“No, sir, I haven’t,” you murmured, wiggling your ass a bit for him.

Joel groaned, the tension in his pants growing tighter, while he knelt behind you. The offer was irresistible, the way your flesh jiggled commended him to smack both of your buttocks. You whimpered, your back arching some more and your crack pulling further apart.

His fingers twitched with need, grabbing a handful of your meat. Joel was mesmerised by the view ― your puckered entrance so very inviting, and your beautiful seam glistening with slick right below.

Unable to refrain himself, his index dipped in the warmth of your damp pussy, tracing it entirely until the pad caught on your beating clit. You sighed heavily, melting under his digit.

“Why are you all wet already? Have you been playing with yourself?” he questioned, voice laced with lustful anger.

“Yes, sorry, sir. I was thinking about you, about what is gonna happen tonight, and… mhmm…” you hiccupped when he flicked your clit, “I did finger myself, but I didn’t come, I promise.”

Joel’s chest rumbled, frustrated. His orders were clear ― no touching yourself, nothing at all, even if you were horny. He wanted you needy and ready to take his cock when he came home from a rough day of patrol.

“How many fingers?” he barked, pinching your hooded clit between his index and middle fingers. You wailed in mild pain, your hips bucking up and away from his touch, but Joel didn’t release your thudding button.

“Just the one. Just the pinky, I swear. I know you like my pussy tight and unstretched, sir,” your sob transformed into a moan when his thumb found your trapped clit.

“Attagirl,” Joel rasped. “I don’t want your cunt all used and loose, you’re too young to feel like an old hag around my cock.” His thumb pressed tight circles on your pebbled nub before he removed his hand from your pussy. “I will let it slide. This one time.”

The warning in his tone made you nod vehemently, as you looked over your shoulder to him. Your bottom lip was trembling, your doe eyes pleading.

“Do you forgive me, sir?”

Joel gave you a stern look before he slapped your ass cheek, and you winced in response.

“I’ll think about it, kiddo,” he already had, but wouldn’t tell you yet.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind, sir?” a single tear skidded through your cheek, bottom lip still quivering.

Joel loved how easy you would tear up, you were a natural when it came to acting.

“There’s this one thing I have in mind,” Joel muttered, his thumb ghosting your butthole. “So clean, sugar. Can’t fucking wait to dive in.”

“I washed myself really well for you, sir. I used an enema too,” you whispered, averting your eyes shyly.

“So no messy sex?” Joel almost sounded disappointed, but he was just toying with you.

“No, I couldn’t, sir,” you bit down your bottom lip, eyes shut and the apples of your face burning with shame, when the pad of his thumb gently pressed the tight ring in your crack. “Oh…”

“You like that, don’t you? All this time denying me my right to fuck your ass, and now look at ya, begging to have your butthole impaled. Did rimming your tight ass yesterday change your mind?”

You shook your head yes eagerly and pushed your hips backwards until your ass was resting on his lap, thumb still stroking you right where you needed. You rubbed your buttocks against his jeans, your weeping seam sliding on his zipper.

“I-I loved it. I’m s-so ready now, sir,” you stuttered, pouting when he stood up.

“You poor little thing. Let’s break this seal then, shall we? But I need you to work me hard first.”

Joel moved towards the couch, and you followed him, walking on all fours behind him as if you were his little doggy. Next time, he would get you a collar and a leash, he thought as he sat down, and the old cushion gave way under him.

He coaxed his legs apart to make room for you between his thighs. You didn’t need any further instructions: you were already unbuckling his belt, your tiny hand dipping in his underwear to release his flaccid cock. His dick was still soft, just started to harden a few minutes ago.

Leaning forward, you pulled back the skin on his shaft and kissed the reddened tip. Then your tongue twirled around his cockhead, slurping sloppily as you bobbed your head down his length. Joel felt his dick growing harder, bigger in your warm mouth, and he groaned with satisfaction.

You loved how Joel’s soft cock would slowly stiffen between your lips, how his weight would grow heavier on your tongue as you sucked him off. Although you played to be submissive to him, this was a reminder of the actual power you held over him. Not only a reminder to yourself, but also to him. Despite being fifty-six, you were able to work Joel hard in a couple of minutes with the brush of your tongue and the seal of your plump lips. You were proud of it.

“What’s all this?” Joel asked as he leaned over, his chest pushing your throat further down on his now throbbing cock.

Your partner grabbed the box you had wrapped from the coffee table, along with the ashtray and a cigar you almost had to sell your soul for.

“Your other present, sir,” you managed to mumble, mouth full of his hard erection.

Your saliva skidded down his veiny shaft, pooling on the thick, dark curls at the base of his cock.

“I didn’t say stop. Keep sucking, kiddo,” his reproach scolded you, and quickly resumed your job.

You heard him lighting the cigar and then tearing the newspaper apart, while you took in as many inches as you could. Now that you had felt a few cocks on the palm of your hand, Joel’s had no rival. He was so gifted, and you felt lucky you were the one getting it all for yourself.

He’d been training you to swallow him whole, and practice made perfect. So after a couple more dives, your lips reached the base as the underside of his cock dragged easily along your tongue.

Your eyes welled up due to the strain and you suppressed the gag reflex, the fluttering of your throat around his girth making Joel moan. His left hand landed on the back of your head, pushing you down.

“Your mouth was made for me, sugar,” he praised you and you revelled in his compliment, swaying your hips sideways.

He placed the box on your back and opened it. You couldn’t see him but knew his face expression would light up with a sinful smirk.

Joel cackled and smacked one of your round globes, careful of not messing up the cute bow.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

Joel pulled you off his erection by tugging at your hair. By the way his brown eyes took you in, you had to be a pretty picture ― messy hair and makeup, swollen lips, your skin glistening from your nose down to your chin with his precum and your spit.

One of his hands was holding a small butt plug. It was made of black silicone, pointier and ridged. It had four inches of insertable length, and the diameter was one inch thick.

Joel let out a whistle.

“You traded for this?” you nodded, batting your eyelashes at him. “Good fucking girl.”

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips demanding and fierce. Your tangled tongues fought with each other, but Joel always won, subduing you quickly.

Both his hands roamed your bare body, rough calloused palms caressing your cold skin, which bristled under his touch. Joel traced your underboob, then suddenly pinched both of your taut nipples and pulled.

You flinched, a thunder of pain radiating from your tits all the way down to your pussy. Wet, sticky heat pooled between your thighs, clit pulsing and hole clenching around nothing. How could pain turn you on so fucking much?

“Move your pretty ass to the bedroom, kiddo,” Joel commanded.

Springing to your feet, you obeyed, leading the way to his bed. The room was dark and bare, with no personal items anywhere to be seen. Joel kept to himself, sharing little snippets of his life when he felt like it. You never pushed for information, knowing that he would open up at his own pace.

Putting on your best innocent gaze, you turned around to face him once you were at the foot of the bed.

“Can we play rough… daddy, please?” the term slipped from your tongue accidentally.

You covered your mouth at the realisation ― you’d never called him daddy, not out loud. In your mind you had done so several times, but you were not able to gauge how Joel would react if you did.

You were about to find out.

Joel growled at you, one broad hand wrapping around your throat ― his fingers dug on the sides of your neck. Tilting your chin up, you gasped, your hips lurching forward until they pressed against his erect dick.

“Who’s your daddy, kiddo?” Joel groaned, grazing your chin with his teeth.

“Y-you, daddy,” you replied, slowly understanding that despite his aggressive reaction, he actually liked it. “Joel Miller is my daddy.”

“Damn right I am,” he snarled like an animal. He hovered the anal plug over your mouth, “Open.” Joel slotted it between your lips. “Suck on it, daddy’s girl needs her pacifier for what’s to come. Don’t want the neighbours coming over to check if I’ve killed someone.”

When he turned you around and pushed you towards the bed, you knew the game was on. Your shins hit the metal bedframe; with another push from Joel on your shoulders, you fell face first on the unkempt bed.

“No, daddy, please, no,” you began whimpering around the plug, squirming as he sank a knee into the mattress.

Joel grabbed both of your wrists with the span of one broad hand and pressed them onto the small of your back. He tilted forward, his weeping glans gliding on your sticky slit a few times. He tapped your clit four times with his cockhead, the last tap harsher than the others, and then he stabbed your clenching hole.

You writhed under him, audibly crying now, when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. You forced tears to fall down your cheeks and mouthed a scream around the butt plug in your mouth.

“It hurts!” you feigned a painful wail, when in reality your pussy was fluttering around his gifted circumference with delight.

Joel groaned above you, buried down to the hilt, and placed his free hand on the back of your head. Then he pushed your skull down into the mattress, almost smothering you as you tried to gasp for air.

“Shut up, you bitch. Take it,” his hips snapped back, cock almost sliding out of your cunt, and then forced his way into your pussy again.

Your old man picked up a relentless pace, the nasty, sucking sound of your wetness reverberating in the room as Joel fucked you stupid, drilling you into the bed like a man possessed.

Joel freed your wrists for his left thumb to find your empty rimmed hole. He started stroking it slowly again, and you squeezed your sphincter at the touch. Unhurriedly, he worked your butthole until your muscles relaxed, then took the opportunity to ploddingly insert the first phalange in your ass.

Seeing stars behind your eyes, your hips involuntarily jerked up, swallowing the second phalange of his thumb. When Joel began pumping your tight ass with his digit, your pussy palpitated around his cock.

“You like that, don’tcha? Nasty, stupid little girl,” Joel groaned, his thrusts unforgiving whilst his thick finger twirled inside you.

You hummed loudly around the butt plug, feeling lightheaded and dizzy due to the lack of oxygen, but also to the intense pleasure, one you had not felt before.

“Mhm-mm-mhmmm-mhmmmmm,” the crescendo in your mumbling plea peaked, your lungs now burning.

Then Joel released his purchase on your hair, and your neck snapped back as you mouthed for air. Your heartrate spiked, even feeling it in your gums. Joel’s unabating shoves along with his devilish thumb finally sent you over the edge and you jumped off the cliff of your pleasure blindly. Your throbbing pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, the wave of your climax drowning you as Joel fucked you through it.

With toes curling, eyes glassy and drool falling off the corners of your busy mouth, all your muscles went suddenly limp. Your spent cunt still quivered around Joel’s dick, who hadn’t stopped jackhammering into you with renewed vigour.

Hastily, Joel pulled back and out of the heat of your tight pussy, digging up his thumb in the process too. One more second and he would have spilt inside. While he was sure he could have another erection, even at fifty-six, he rather not risk it.

His rough hand wrapped around his cockhead, reining in the need to come.

“Fuck, you almost got me there, sugar,” he cackled, running his hand down his face.

You didn’t reply. You were sprawled across his bedsheets like a fuck toy, your thighs still trembling with the aftershock of your orgasm. Joel was sure that even without the butt plug in your mouth, you would not have been able to string two coherent words together.

His lustful eyes lingered on the red bow crowning the swell of your buttocks. He was dying to untie it, to unwrap his most precious present and make good use of it. But first he needed you ready.

“Gimme that,” he uncurled his hand in front of your mouth, and you spat out the butt plug.

Standing firm behind you, he teased your pursed hole with the silicone tip. You stirred at the touch but were so out of tune with your own body, you didn’t fight him. He twisted the plug around, circling in your orifice. Slowly it went in, and when it bottomed out, your eyes snapped open, and you grizzled.

“Stay put,” he ordered you, stepping back.

Joel admired how the handle stuck out, peeking between your round globes. With a huff, he stroked his length as he walked towards the nightstand. Opened the drawer and pulled out your favourite pink dildo. It was slim and slightly curved ― you loved how the tip always hit the right spot inside your pussy.

He retraced his steps back to the foot of the bed and slid the toy between your clammy flaps, wetting it with your juices. You squirmed at the cold touch but relaxed when you realised what it was.

“Gonna have both holes full to the fucking brim, babydoll,” he mocked you sneeringly, wedging the dildo in your crying pussy until it snugly sat inside. “She’s so greedy.”

“Daddy, please, I can’t. I’m hurting,” you pleaded, sobbed even.

“I don’t fucking care. I’ll fuck your ass through the pain. A gift is a gift, kiddo,” he mumbled darkly.

Joel followed along and would not stop unless you said, “you piece of shit.” That was the agreement, the safe words you would use if you really started feeling insufferable pain. So far, you hadn’t spoken the words, giving him free rein to do with you as he pleased.

Looking at you with your perky ass up with the satin bow on top, a dildo in your weeping cunt and the butt plug poking out of your asshole, he knew himself a lucky bastard. How you fully trusted him, giving in to his darkest desires and coming up with your own. The last year had been a revelation for both of you ― you matched his freak so well.

To hell with what people thought, you were everything he had been looking for.

Fisting the base of his thudding cock, he slowly removed the anal plug, the pop sound enticing. Joel watched your open hole squeezing again until it puckered in your fold. He was mesmerised imagining how your walls would feel around him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, biting down his bottom lip.

Hypnotised, Joel pushed the plug back in your butt, slowly and steadily, watching eagerly how your rimmed entrance swallowed the beads.

“No, daddy, it hurts. Please, take it out,” you begged him with a small, breathless voice.

“Shut the fuck up,” he warned you.

With one hand he pumped the dildo, dragging the pointy tip along your anterior wall to hit the spongy spot of your pleasure, and the other performed similar motions with the butt plug.

You mewled like a kitten, your passion ringing in his ears like he was high on drugs. Seeing you like this, all pliable and surrendered, had him on the brink of coming ― teetering on the edge, precum sliding down his shaft.

When you started humping the bedsheets, causing friction in your unattended clit, Joel knew you were close to another climax. Feeling considerate, he let you chase your own high, both of his hands working the sex toys in your holes.

“I― Good fucking lord, I’m… com… I’m coming, daddy. C-can I…?” you asked for his permission, his chest swelling at your request.

“Yeah, kiddo. Come for daddy,” he rasped, feeling drunk on your ecstasy.

You finally let go again, your whole body quivering like a leaf falling off a tree. He saw your inner labia squeezing the dildo and for a second Joel regretted it wasn’t his cock ― how good it would feel to have your fluttering pussy hug him tight.

But he had to persevere. The gift was worth it.

As your body still adjusted to the aftermath, Joel pulled out the butt plug carefully. The toy slid out easily, and he watched again how your hole stretched back to its normal size.

Throwing the plug to one side on the bed, Joel untied the red, satin bow on your lower back with steady fingers, taking in the moment. He felt like a mayor inaugurating a new building, presenting it to the press. This building was only his to dilapidate. The ribbon fell through his fingers.

Joel slipped one hand between your thighs, caressing around the dildo to gather some of your slick and gently buttering it into your rimmed opening. You said nothing ― eyes shut and mouth agape, it was almost as if you were peacefully sleeping.

He repeated the process a few times, but felt it wasn’t enough. Bending down, he spat in your ass until his mouth was dry. Then positioned his weeping cock right in the fold of your ass and pressed your buttocks together to hump your butt crack. Again, you didn’t react, your drool pooling on the bedsheets.

“What a fucking sight,” he said under his breath, the tip of his girthy dick finally hitching in your asshole.

Slowly he pushed the glans in, then back out, then back in, testing the waters. You squirmed a little, your brows furrowing innocently and your nose scrunching.

“Biiiiig stretch, kiddo,” he managed to groan between gritted teeth, jaw painfully clenched as his cock finally burrowed in your puckered entrance.

That was when your glassy eyes snapped open, and both your hands fisted the bedsheets.

“DADDY!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

It was hot and tight inside, very soft too, sweat gathering on his brow in concentration. Your sphincter crushed his hard cock and Joel felt like losing control over his own actions.

Another piercing shriek from you brought him back, his hips slowly working your hole with his length. He was only halfway in, you still had a few inches to take.

“You pie― Ohhhh, ah, mhmm…” his hand was quick to find the pebbled nub in your slit, petting it gently, pressing tight circles.

The distraction worked, because soon enough his dick was fully sitting in your ass. Joel pulled back, then back in, guiding your movements by pressing his free hand on your belly, holding your waist up and moving you with him. His right ring and middle fingers stroked your pearly clit relentlessly ― you were melting again.

This was heaven. Fucking heaven, he thought. How the muscles in your ass contracted around him, making him feel woozy. How you keened. How he just knew your pussy was fluttering around your pink dildo. How your clit was extremely wet, his fingers almost slipping on your velvety skin, almost unable to catch on your button.

It wasn’t painful, it was extremely overwhelming. Your mind felt like a spongy cloud, completely blissed out. Your soul had literally left your body, that was how empty your brain was. You were so full ― the dildo cozily inside you, Joel’s girthy cock blasting your entrails without a pause. Having him fully seated in your asshole was the most euphoric experience you had ever lived ― your pulse adjusted to his, two hearts beating as one.

It was too much, but it could be even more. Slithering one hand between your body and the bed, you found the dildo. Slowly you rocked it in and out of your damp pussy ― when Joel pulled out, you pushed in.

Elated, little, pathetic sobs escaped your mouth ― real, blissful tears wetting your cheeks, whimpering as your puffy lips wolfed down the pink toy. Your clit felt on fucking fire, Joel’s fingers fondling it to a point where you thought you might actually die.

You were coming again ― Joel could fucking feel it in his bones. Only this time, you squirted all over him, the warm liquid running down his thighs like a cascade whilst your whole body quaked uncontrollably.

“Oh my! Daddy! DADDY!” you wailed as he fucked you through it, hips almost stuttering now. “I can feel you in my guts! OH, FUCKING HELL!”

That was fucking it. With a guttural groan, Joel finally came, thick, sticky ropes spilling in your ass, painting your walls white. For a minute, he kept on filling you with his cum, cock maddingly twitching inside you. He closed his eyes and heavily sighed, as if the biggest weight had been taken off his shoulders.

By the time he was done, Joel was heaving, his chest rising in quick succession. That had been the best sex he’d ever had, and he was no novice like you. God, even his legs were trembling with effort.

Joel smacked both your ass cheeks as you plummeted onto the bed, a stupid grin curling the corners of your sinful mouth. You rolled to your side to look at him ― a fucked-out expression, your eyes hazy, sweaty hair sticking to your face.

The way you lazily smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.

“That was… something else,” you whispered, half asleep, totally spent.

Joel couldn’t help but chortle.

“I told you, kiddo,” he said, manoeuvring you back onto your belly so he could watch his semen gushing out your ass. “Squeeze your butthole for me, babydoll. Get it all out.”

You obeyed, all his cum slowly trickling out until your ass was empty.

“Good girl,” he praised you.

He admired the view for a hot minute ― you were a dewy mess, tangled in his bedsheets, with the pink dildo still poking out your sweet pussy. So tight, he thought, your slick cunt wouldn’t release it even when he gently tugged at it. Joel didn’t have the heart to take such comfort away from you yet, so he left the dildo in.

Joel disappeared into the bathroom after that to shower quickly. Then grabbed some wet towels and went back to the bedroom, naked as you were, to find you soundly asleep in an odd position.

He cleaned you up ― first your sweaty face, then your upper body. Joel coaxed your legs apart and couldn’t resist the urge to bow down and press a sweet kiss to your clit, slowly extracting the dildo from your pussy.

You hummed in your sleep, jaw slack and snoring lightly.

“The best daddy’s girl one could ask for,” he purred before resuming the task of rubbing your cunt and your ass clean. Joel was extremely diligent with your hygiene and care.

There was a big puddle on his bedsheets, right where your pussy had been leaking all along. He’d deal with that in the morning, didn’t want to wake you up now ― you needed the rest.

Joel sauntered towards the living room, seizing the forgotten cigar and the ashtray. Then returned to bed, and dragged your body up the bed until your head was resting on his lap. You unconsciously nuzzled his soft dick, your hot breath fanning the thick curls at the base.

Joel raked his fingers through your hair as he took a puff, the cigar crackling.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, kiddo.”

In your sleep, you stirred ― your plump, cherry lips caressing his base. Joel’s head slacked back against the headboard as he smoked.

“Fuck,” he cursed himself, feeling his dick harden again.

You were giving him no option ― there was nothing worse than going to bed with a hard-on. Joel knew you wouldn’t want that for him.

His fingers left your scalp, took one more puff and placed the cigar down on the ashtray. Joel cupped your chin, tilting your head up and back, while his other hand guided the slick tip of his cock to your lips. The moment your mouth was in contact with his dick, instinctually you suckled on his pearly glans.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted, voice gravelly. “That’s it, be a good little girl for daddy.”

Joel gently rocked his hips under you, only the tip disappearing between your sinful lips ― he didn’t want to wake you, not when you looked like an angel right now.

This was a recurrent dream of yours. Most nights, you found yourself drifting away and thinking about your old man’s beautiful dick. It was soothing when you latched onto his glans, just like you were doing right now ― unbeknownst to you.

In your dream, your tongue pressed against the slit on his throbbing cockhead while your lips would seal around it to suck on it. Then his underside would slide along your tongue, kissing your palate gently. Sometimes you would stop, glans sitting warmly in your mouth, and the hand resting on his thigh would find the soft balls underneath to massage them delicately. Then your tongue would resume its petting.

Heat peaked inside your mouth, and that made you scowled slightly. Smacking your lips together, sleepily, you realised that there was something warm and sticky pooling in your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered open, still drowsy, and found Joel’s darkened ones. Your head was resting on his lap, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb stroked your chin. Sluggishly, you smiled at him, rubbing one eye with the back of your hand.

“Sorry to wake you,” he apologised before he took a drag of the cigar. “Swallow daddy’s gift, sugar.”

His words made you realise that what you had in your mouth was his cum. Your grin grew wider as the tasty seed of Joel slid down your throat. You liked it when he took what was his without asking.

“Attagirl. Now back to sleep, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime,” he commended you, and you nodded absentmindedly.

Nudging his dick and tucking your hands under his thigh, you pressed a soft kiss on his cockhead, then closed your eyes.

“Thank you,” you sighed contently, to both Joel and his dick.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Nuisance - Ryomen Sukuna ✧

Synopsis: *Human!Sukuna* While hanging out with your boyfriend, Ryomen, his little brother wanders out of his room.

*Not Proof Read*

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something about the King of Curses and this prompt came to mind. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I loved writing about baby Yuji. Also, something like this is in the works for Dad!Gojo and Son!Megumi.

Warnings:None

Word Count: 1.5k

You have been chilling in Ryomen’s room for hours now. Since it was a weekend and you both didn’t have any classes, you found yourself resting in his bed while he played relentlessly on his video game. You had been passing the time by scrolling on your phone, but it became so repetitive, you ultimately gave up on trying to find something interesting to watch. Stretching in Ryo’s bed, you let out a grunt and lifted yourself from his mattress. He didn’t seem to notice your movement as you got up and strolled behind him. He had his headphones on and occasionally he would blurt out some phrase that sounded like gibberish to you.

Quietly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, giving him a quick kiss to his cheek, but as you began to walk to the door, you were whipped around and stuck in between Ryomen’s legs. He had taken his headset off and stared up at you with questioning eyes,”Where are you going?” You smirked, leaning down and placing a slow kiss to his lips,”Just down stairs, I’m hungry.” He hummed to your words, kneading the flesh of the back of your thighs,”Can you bring me some water?” Nodding, you gave him one last kiss,”Of course.”

With that he let you go, not without slapping your ass on your way out. You flipped him off playfully, smiling as his deep chuckled echoed out. You headed down the hallway, humming a small song under your breath as you walked to the kitchen. When you first met Ryo, you were expecting his small home to be trashed and flooded with dirty dishes, but to your surprise it was quite the opposite. He had a comfortable two bedroom, one bathroom, house that was practically becoming your second home. You weren’t sure who told him that keeping a fresh home attracts a lady, but it definitely works. He had plenty of good-smelling candles and each section of the home was spotless.

You wandered into the kitchen, opening the cupboards to find his stockpile of snacks. Finally, you found a bag of chips and set them on the counter. Moving to his refrigerator, you smirked at the photo stuck to the front with a magnet. It showed you and Ryomen standing in front of a Christmas light show and you were kissing his cheek. He’s such a softie. Opening the fridge, you frowned at the scarce amount of options. Energy drinks,condiments,barely any sandwich meat and eggs. You really needed to go grocery shopping with him. Shockingly, he had bottled water in the bottom.

As you reached for it, you heard a door open in the back room and assumed Ryomen was finished with his game. You stood, turning with the water in hand, but the person behind you was not Ryomen at all. Well he did look exactly like him, just a lot younger. A little boy that shared Ryomen’s light pink hair and dark hazel eyes. He clearly had just woken up, because his hair was messy and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Looking up, his eyes shone in pure wonder,”Who are you?”

You giggled, bending down to meet his level, he couldn't be any older than five,”Hey little guy,” you cooed,”I’m Ryomen’s girlfriend. What’s your name?” He pointed to himself,”I’m Yuji,” then pointed back to you,”You’re the one my older brother keeps talking about.” You raised your brows in interest,”He does? Well what does he say?” The little boy beamed at your question,”He says you’re really pretty.”

You giggled at his words,”Aw, that’s sweet of him.” He nodded along, then let out a yawn. You tilted your head, very happy to be talking to Ryomen’s adorable little brother,”Did you just wake up?” He let out a cute ‘mhm’ and you glanced at the hallway,”How come Ryomen hasn’t told me anything about you?” He gave a small shrug,”I don’t know,” You stood to your full height and gestured to the hall,”Well do you wanna go say hi to him?”

He nodded excitedly and just as you were about to lead the way, Yuji lifted both of his hands, making a small grabbing motion. You were sure this boy was going to be the death of you. Not wanting to let him down, you grabbed under his armpit, and lifted him off the ground. Setting him on your hip, you examined his features,”Aren’t you the cutest thing.” You booped his nose and he let out a small giggle,”When Ryo told me about you, I knew you were a good person.”

You smiled,”Thank you Yuji, I think you’re a good person too.” You ruffled his fluffy hair and Yuji clung to your shoulder, hugging you tightly. He’s kinda like a koala. You carried the boy to Ryomen’s door, completely forgetting the items you were supposed to bring back. Turning the handle, you stood in the doorway, pausing to put a finger to your lips and face Yuji. He gave a nod of understanding and you faced Ryomen, who was still playing his game.

“Ryo,” You called, making the man pause his game and begin to turn in his chair. As he removed his headphones,he had a small smile on his face,”I was wondering when you would get back-“ His smile dropped at the sight before him,”Where do you find him?” You rolled your eyes, setting the boy down,”You’re acting like he’s a stray.” Yuji ran right to his brother and climbed onto his lap. While Ryomen looks upset, he still allowed Yuji to stand on his thigh and stare in awe at his game’s visuals.

“He was supposed to be sleeping.” Ryomen claimed, you nodded,”Yeah, he walked out when I was grabbing the stuff and said some things.” He raised a brow, glancing at his little brother,”Like what?” There was a bit of annoyance in his tone, but you walked over, waving his suspension away,”Nothing bad, but how come I’ve never heard of this cutie?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms,”He’s anything but cute. His face is so annoying.” You raised a brow,”You guys have the exact same face.” He rolled his eyes,”Quit lying.” You giggled quietly, loving how moody the man was. Ryomen poked the boy's side, making him squeal,”I have told you about him, he’s just never around when you’re here.” You frowned,”Aw, that means I won’t be able to see him often.” Ryomen sighed,”Our parents are off on vacation and they didn’t want to pay for a babysitter so they dropped him off here,”

Yuji climbed down from Ryomen’s legs and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to the floor,”But what about during the weekdays? You don’t leave him here do you?” Ryomen gave you an unimpressed look,”No. of course I don’t. There’s a preschool close to here and I just drop him off before I go to class.” You hummed to his words, liking his response,”You’re pretty responsible Ryo.”

“Obviously. He’s my little brother.” You looked up at him with a small pout as Yuji played with your hair curiously. Ryomen scrunched his face,”Don’t look at me like that.” He motioned to the little boy who was crawling into your lap,”Our mom would kill me if I didn’t take care of that nuisance.” You gasped, collecting Yuji in your arms protectively,”He is not a nuisance. He’s a little angel.”

The man shook his head, turning back to his game,”Maybe to you.” You glared at the back of Ryomen’s head, then turned down to the boy in your arms,”He’s just jealous Yuji.” Though Ryomen acted like he didn’t care, he side-eyed the two of you, smiling to himself as you continued to entertain his younger brother.

The day carried on, sun falling past the horizon and that night you all had pasta, much to Yuji’s request. You all got ready for bed, letting Yuji use your moisturizer as he watched you in amazement. Ryomen picked up his brother once you were finished with your routine and the two of you walked to Yuji’s room. Unfortunately, when Ryomen opened the door, Yuji let out a pitiful whine and nuzzled himself closer into Ryomen’s chest. Your eyebrows crease and you pet his hair comfortingly.

Your boyfriend exhaled,walking into the room,”Come on Yuji, you gotta go to bed.” He let out a sound of disagreement and moved from his arms, reaching out for yours. Folding instantly, you took him from his brother, smiling as the little boy cuddled you. Ryomen stood there, a disappointed look on his face as he watched Yuji. You held him tightly, staring at Ryo with pleading eyes,”Please can he stay with us?”

His brow furrowed, but he ultimately gave into your puppy eyes,”Fine, but just this once. Never again.” You walked over, kissing him softly,”Thank you, Ryo.” It wasn’t a shocker when Yuji slept in your guy's bed, sleeping peacefully between your bodies.

[heyftinally]

I specifically want to elaborate on this part:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

As someone who has spent a LOT of time and effort on the nitty-gritty of quoting others in professional documents, I feel like I have a pretty good foundation on which to speak about this.

As a general rule, you want to directly quote the speaker as much as possible.

First and foremost, this is because you don't want to put words in their mouth or misrepresent what they said, as that's dishonest on your part as the interviewer/writer/etc, and harms your credibility. Remember the "Coolsville sucks" meme? Yeah, don't be that person. Quotes should be full and verbatim as much as possible, because anything else presents the possibility that you aren't accurately or fully representing what the speaker said.

The second reason is because when you re-word someone else's quote, you inherently inject your own biases into the new version you create. What that means is, consciously or unconsciously, you are influencing the way readers perceive what was said. This is bad because at best, you're speaking over the person who's quote you re-worded. At worst, you're manipulating your readers to think as you do, regardless of what the original quote said.

When presenting a quote from someone else, your job is to communicate as clearly as possible the speaker's original statement and intention. If giving the direct quote is not possible, careful paraphrasing is vital.

If I say "Sara James then went on to express her dissatisfaction with the pay she received", what would you assume the original quote is?

It could be "Yeah, I found out I was only getting paid ⅓ as much as my costar, even though I have 40% more screen time and I did almost all of my own stunts, so needless to say I'm not happy and I've been talking to my team."

But it could ALSO be "I was surprised when I found out what we were all getting paid. Not to sound like a total nepo baby or anything, but normally the projects I do pay more, y'know? But then I found out that the reason pay was lower for everyone - not just me - was because production was donating a whole bunch of money to the local children's hospital since we filmed in the lot next door. Which I thought was really cool of them! Like, obviously the hospital doesn't get much say in the filming, so I thought it was really cool of production to give back as, like, a thank you. Plus we got to go visit the kids, which was just amazing!"

TECHNICALLY in both of these, you could argue that displeasure about pay IS mentioned - but the specifics of the situation are entirely lost in the oversimplified paraphrasing, and THAT is why changing direct quotes can be dangerous.

So, yeah. I just wanted to elaborate on that particular point because it's one I covered *heavily* while in college. How you quote someone is important.

":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"

Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.

Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.

The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.

Here is the harm they are causing:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.

The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.

These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.

To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.

It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.

Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.

On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.

AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.

And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.

An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.

[taeyongdoyoung]

that's a warning

summary: your professor's age is not a problem to you. and neither is his dark secret... pairing: professor!chan x uni student!reader genre: dark academia, vampire!au, smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), mentions of toxic friend, descriptions of blood, kissing, biting, eating out, blowjob, daddy kink (who's surprised?), ddlg implied, size kink, unprotected sex, forbidden relationship, insecurities, danger kink author's note: this is based on a dream i had + inspired by railway, obviously. read at your own risk 🥵 too many references to the song's lyrics in bold, sawrryyy word count: 3k

The moment you set your eyes on Professor Bang, you know that you need to have him. You've never felt an attraction so intense, so overpowering, so sinister in its obsession. You are willing to go to any lengths to get close to him. Even if it kills you.

It starts off innocent, almost childlike. The way you stay after his lectures to ask him silly questions (you know the answers to) about the homework. Sometimes you ask him about the location of other lecture halls (even though you've been to them hundreds of times). Sometimes you go to his office hours just to be alone with him (even though you are perfectly confident in understanding the study material).

At first, Chan accepts your incessant flood of questions with an easy-going smile. If he's being honest with himself, he likes the attention. It's been a while since someone's been that interested in talking to him. Especially someone so…young. Most students usually avoid his intense stare. He's been told it's far too intimidating. He tries to be welcoming to everyone but he's not sure he's doing a good job.

But as the semester nears its end, his patience wears thin. You always get full marks on your assignments and quizzes so he doesn't understand why you are constantly asking for his "help". And he's certain you know your way around the university better than any other student. You're always on time and your homework is flawless 100% of the time. So, he really doesn't get it. Are you messing with him? Is it funny to you to joke around with a poor old lonely professor?

Chan's decided he's had enough. And this time, when you catch him alone after the lecture, he's going to confront you.

"Cut the act," Professor Bang scolds you directly. "I know you know the answer to that question. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what, Professor Bang?" you ask innocently, while batting your eyelashes.

"Pretending you're dumb. It's obvious you're a top student, so why are you always asking me stuff?" he grunts and pins you down with his intense gaze you're so addicted to.

Hell, you've never felt more terrified. It excites you.

"Don't you know already?" you mumble quietly. You want to look away but you're trapped in his beautiful dark eyes. So you don't.

"Is it fun, messing with an old man like me, huh? Is it some stupid college dare?" Chan asks, his insecurities getting the worst of him.

"You're not old," you insist passionately. "There's no dare. I just…like you."

"You…like me?" he repeats in disbelief.

You nod furiously, trying to convince him of your sincerity.

"But…why?"

"What do you mean why? You're so smart and handsome and sometimes even cute. I like…how you explain stuff like you don't think anyone is dumb, you're so patient and…warm."

Huh. Warm? It's been a while since someone's used that word to describe him, Chan thought.

"You do realize we could both get in trouble if…" he can't even believe he's even considering this. "If we were to…pursue something outside of the university walls?"

Fuck it, he said it.

"I know. I won't tell anyone, I promise," you are desperately grasping at straws as you find yourself so close to the one thing you've ever wanted more than anything.

Professor Bang shakes his head.

"I'm not asking you to keep it a complete secret. Just…if you choose to share it with people, be careful who you trust."

"I understand, Professor, I'll be careful," you promise.

"And…call me Chris or Chan or something," he shrugs. "When it's just us two."

God. It's really happening.

"Let me take you out to a restaurant," he offers suddenly. "Tomorrow evening?"

"That sounds amazing!" you grin excitedly.

Your first date with Chan arrives and you are so happy you feel like you could die. You don't wanna jinx things so soon and don't tell anyone where you're going.

"You look stunning," he compliments your dress as he pulls a chair out for you.

"Thank you so much, Chris," you smile and take a seat. "You look absolutely dashing, as always."

He chuckles but doesn't respond rightaway.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just…I don't hear that much. Especially not from beautiful young women such as yourself."

"You're surely joking?" you frown. "Anyone would kill to be in my shoes right now."

"You're too kind," Chan replies, not seeming to believe your words and you decide to drop the subject. For now. "What would you like to drink?"

"Hmm…maybe some red wine?"

"Good choice," he smirks. "And food?"

"I'm really into pasta these days!" you squeal with excitement.

Chris orders for the two of you, making your heart flutter for the hundredth time. He's just…so dependable.

Till the food arrives, you busy yourselves with getting to know each other better. Outside of the university walls, it turns out you are both passionate about things other than academic endeavours. And with each glass of red, it becomes easier to share stuff about yourself with him.

As the evening nears its natural conclusion, Chan insists on paying the bill for the food and drinks.

"Now I feel bad," you pout adorably, clinging onto his arm for support, because all the wine made your legs slightly unstable. "Let's go for coffee!"

"I don't…really drink coffee," Chris confesses shyly.

"Tea, then! Please, I don't want to go home just yet. This night is so perfect, I don't want it to end."

"Okay, okay," he agrees easily.

You lead the way to one of your favourite cafés. This time, you excitedly pay for the warm beverages.

"It's snowing outside!" you marvel at the pretty snowflakes falling, illuminated by the street lights.

"Good thing we're all cozy and inside, then," Chan chuckles.

"Yeah…" you smile softly. "I really like you, Chan," you admit.

"I know, you said that a couple of times," he shakes his head, amused.

"Yes, but…you didn't say anything. Do you like me, too?" you inquire self-consciously.

"I do like you. You're very clever and funny and obviously super pretty."

"Really?" you blink furiously to stop yourself from tearing up. You don't get to hear something like that by someone you admire so much. Someone who inspires you to be as diligent and hard-working as him. Scratch that. You don't get to hear words like that very often. It sometimes strikes you how badly you need to be acknowledged for your efforts.

"You must know that."

"No, actually, I don't," you smile sadly. "But it's really nice of you to say it. True or not."

Chan stretches his hand out across the table to hold yours.

"Hey. It's true, okay?"

"Guess I'll stick around to find out, yeah? And maybe I'll help you believe it, too," you suggest.

"Maybe. I'd really like that."

And stick around you do. The next semester, Chan is no longer your Professor, so you don't have to worry so much about getting in trouble with the university's authorities. Eventually, as things start becoming more serious, you decide to share the news about your boyfriend's identity with a few of your closest friends.

Luckily, most of them are super supportive and happy about your relationship. They tell you that you've looked happier recently and are pleased to finally know the reason. There is one friend, however, who is completely against.

"I don't approve. You can't date him," she outright says.

"Can't? Excuse me?" you become aggravated. You've had some fights in the past, situations when she's been jealous of you hanging out with other friends and has done some toxic stuff behind your back. So, her reaction doesn't come as a complete surprise. But still, it sucks that she hasn't outgrown this kind of pettiness.

"He's like…too old for you. And the fact he was your Professor is just…gross."

"How can you say that? You've never even met him."

"Then, let me meet him."

"Why would you meet him if you've already made up your mind?"

"To make sure he's worthy of you, duh."

"That's my call to make. Not yours."

And with that, you leave. This is just…too much. Later, you talk to another friend about this situation to get a second opinion.

"Nah, fuck her. I mean, it's your relationship, she can't dictate how you feel or who you're seeing romantically."

"Right? That's exactly what I've been thinking."

"It sucks that she said those stuff but maybe you're better off," your other friend shrugs.

"Yeah…For the time being, I'll distance myself from her. If she starts acting like an adult, only then will I consider letting her back in."

"That's totally valid," your friend agrees. "Take your time and look after your mental health."

"Thank you so much. I knew you'd get it."

"Always!"

Soon after that, you hang out at Chan's place and you decide to talk talk to him about the falling-out with that toxic friend.

"Well, technically, I am too old for you."

"The fuck you are! Are you taking her side?" you cry out passionately.

"Hell, no! I'm just saying…you could find any college guy your age and…"

"No, shut up, Chris!" you shake your head, refusing to entertain such an idea. "I don't want anyone but you!"

"But I'm dangerous for you," Chan sighs. But you can't believe that. He's been nothing but kind and accepting in the short time you've known each other.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"You'd think I'm crazy if I told you," he grins somewhat devilishly. "It'd be better if I showed you instead. But then, I'd have to kill you."

"W-what?" you stammer, his behaviour totally unlike the gentle guy you're used to seeing.

Suddenly, Chris grabs your wrist and starts pulling you somewhere.

"W-where are we g-going?" you ask helplessly but he doesn't respond. He's too strong to fight him back so you just try to keep up with his speed and follow him down the stairs and into the basement. Where you'll find answers to questions you didn't even know you were supposed to be asking.

When he unlocks the door, you are greeted with red. A lot of it.

"What is all this?"

"Come on, sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than that," Chris chuckles.

"It's…blood banks," you state the obvious, feeling dumber than ever.

"Wow, you don't say," Chris replies sarcastically.

"Why…why do you have all this blood in your basement? Is it like a…kink thing?!" you gasp in shock.

"No, darling, it's not a kink thing," he laughs, the idea incredibly amusing. "Take a guess."

"Are you a serial killer?" you try to think of a logical explanation.

"You're too realistic," Chris sighs. "Think…something you never thought possible."

"You're…a vampire!" you exclaim triumphantly.

"Bingo," he confirms unenthusiastically. "So, your friend was correct to worry. I am too old for you. And bad for you. I never should have let this go so far."

You shake your head.

"N-no, she's not right," you disagree. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" Chris tilts your chin up, facing you directly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to restrain myself from sucking your blood dry?"

You gulp nervously but refuse to believe he'd actually do that. Especially considering he hasn't done so already…

"Why did you become a Professor surrounded by so many humans if self-control is so hard for you?" you push back cleverly.

"It's never been a problem for me to control my thirst. Until you."

"Then, why did you let me get so close?" you inquire.

"Because I was weak…And lonely. I shouldn't have let you in."

Your eyes tear up with emotion.

"Are you saying you'd be happier without me?"

"Happier?" Chris scoffs. "No, I wouldn't be happier. But you would be safer without me."

"Fuck that," you argue. "I am safe when it's just you and me. Knowing you're a vampire changes nothing about how I feel about you."

"Then, you're even more insane than I am," Chris sighs, unable to deny the growing tension between you two.

You kiss him roughly to prove him right, digging your fingers into his soft hair. He kisses you back just as hungrily, incapable of letting you go.

Yes, he may be dangerous for you. But so are you. Willingly pursuing him, not running away from him despite knowing the truth.

He grabs your hair and pulls back, exposing your neck.

"Last chance to get out of here. That's a warning," Chris whispers darkly.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you grin, completely trusting him.

Even if he was your Professor, even if he is way older than you than you initially thought, even if he is a blood-sucking predator, there is no one else you'd trust so unconditionally, so irrevocably.

"What if I hurt you?" he asks, a hint of worry making his dark eyes glow with warmth.

"You couldn't," you insist and close your eyes, tilting your neck. "You can bite me, if you want."

"You're crazy," Chris repeats.

"I trust you," you speak your thoughts out loud.

And this is his breaking point. He attacks your neck with his sharp fangs, not wanting to hold back any longer. The bite stings but in such a sweet way you would be happy to go, if this was your fate…As he drinks from you, you weakly wrap your hands around his neck for support, needing him to ground you. Just as badly as he needed one taste from your delicious blood. If your blood is what Chris needs for survival, then he will surely be your undoing.

Somehow, against all reason, Chan manages to detach his fangs from your neck.

"Fuck," he caresses your neck, smearing the blood all over your porcelain skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you murmur dazedly. "I'm okay."

He holds you close, kissing your cheeks and trying to clean up the mess he made.

"Let's get out of here," Chan suggests and lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the coziness of his place.

"I don't mind," you reassure him. "You being a vampire, that is. I love every part about you. I love...you."

"You…love me?" Chan gasps in surprise.

"I do, I love you," you say once again for good measure.

He doesn't say anything, just kisses you again in disbelief. You hug him tightly, finding so much comfort in his arms. Whatever you've heard about vampires doesn't apply to Chan. He's radiating so much warmth you feel you could burn.

"Hold on tight," he warns and you grip the headboard top rail for dear life, as Chan makes sure to show you blood is not the only thing he's interested in drinking.

As he laps up your juices greedily, you find yourself on the verge of losing your sanity. Your hands give out and you let go of the bed's railings and opt for burying your fingers into his curls once more for support.

"Chris, please, please," you cry out, not even sure what you're begging for. For him to stop? For sweet release? It doesn't matter, as long as he stays with you.

Soon enough, your prayers are answered and you start seeing stars floating in the middle of the room.

"Did I kill you already?" he laughs upon seeing your reaction.

"Try harder," you tease him, even though you are already so gone.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Chris shrugs.

He takes off his jeans and stuffs your mouth full with his giant cock. You try to babble something but it's no use and your helplessness only turns him on more. You hug the back of his knees and let him fuck your throat as he pleases, even though you don't have much of a choice in the matter. Your vision is cloudy with tears and you can't even ask for mercy as his cum starts flooding your mouth. If you thought him drinking your blood was overwhelming, this is on a whole 'nother level of dizzying.

Once he's done using and abusing your throat, he pulls his cock out, smirking at you from above.

"You okay, sweetheart? Still alive?"

"Y-yes, d-daddy," you manage to croak out weakly.

Chris shakes his head in amusement upon hearing the sudden title.

"Then, I guess Daddy's gonna have to give ya a rough ride so you'll forget your own name, huh? How does that sound?"

"More, please," you plead desperately and he makes good on his promise.

He enters you without another warning and you can't keep your screams inside.

"G-god, y-yes," you moan.

"God isn't in this room, darling," Chris cackles maniacally. "The devil, however…"

You kiss him again because he's talking so much your brain can't keep up.

"S-so b-big," you cry.

"Yeah? Too big for my little girl?" he teases you.

"N-no. P-perfect. You're perfect," you insist stubbornly.

Chris fucks into you with supernatural stamina and you are grateful for that because even though you want to, you aren't able of keeping pace with him. Instead, you are happy to just hold onto him and focusing all your energy into…well, not passing out. You're so wet for him that his enormous size slides in and out easily, satisfying both of you with the intensity of the feeling. At last, you cum together, overwhelmed by the passion and affection you feel for each other.

He collapses on top of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. You welcome his weight like he's a giant blanket, comforting you.

"Don't wanna let go of you," Chan murmurs cutely.

You stroke his hair once more with a gentle touch. How is this man who has so many more years of experience still such a cute boy, desperate for tenderness?

"Then, don't. I'm all yours to keep," you chuckle weakly.

"That wouldn't be very productive to our academic future," Chan complains.

"It's okay. I feel like we've both earned a little break," you point out.

"From university? Sure. But when it comes to us two…I need no break. No brakes."

"Nicely said," you giggle, ready for another round on this train that never sleeps.

The End

[yuyusbabygirl]

Strikes and Spares (18+)

pairing: bad boy!yunho x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

content warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI, fluff, oral (fem receiving), yunho is whipped for reader

summary: you were minding your own business when your small town's bad boy came up and just declared he was picking you up for a date

Yunho was standing by his locker when you walked into school that morning. He watched as you opened your locker which was close to his own and took out your books. The look on his face wasn’t his usual scowl of annoyance that everybody in school knows and fears. Instead his eyes softened when he saw you and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red.

San was watching him and knew immediately who showed up by Yunho’s reaction. It had been like this since freshman year. He had to suppress a snicker at Yunho’s lovesick expression. He had always found it hilarious. The school’s bad boy who regularly got into fights, skipped class (except the ones he had with you, of course) and had gotten his first tattoo with 16 was hopelessly in love with a sweet innocent nerd. The best part? You had no clue.

Yunho was snapped out of his thoughts when San nudged his shoulder

“When are you going to stop staring at Y/N and simply talk to her?” San asked him.

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been staring at her like a hopeless fool since freshman year and now it’s our senior year and you have not once asked her out,” San chuckled.

“Shut up,” Yunho grumbled and slammed his locker shut. He knew San was right. But you were… intimidating. He realized how that sounded coming from him but it wasn’t just how pretty you were and how you didn’t seem to be scared of him, it was also just something about you. He knew everyone saw you as a sweet and innocent good girl because you got good grades and liked to dress in feminine clothes but he saw how you suppressed your smile when someone made a dirty or dark joke, he saw the kind of books you read when you thought no one would notice, he saw what music you listened to. And then there was the fact that you always smiled at him despite his reputation because you were so fucking polite. And what does he do? He chokes. Every time. Like a goddamn loser.

He watched as you closed your locker and prepared to go to class. Fuck it. It’s now or never.

Yunho walked over to you which surprised San who thought Yunho was going to creepily stare at you like he always does.

He reached you just when you started walking. “Hey.”

Great going, Yunho. That was the most lame greeting ever, he thought to himself.

You were just about to go to your first class when you heard someone talking to you. You looked up and saw Yunho standing in front of you. You had to look up quite a bit because of the height difference.

“Hey”, you greeted him back and wondered why he was talking to you. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

He put his hands in his pocket, trying to seem relaxed. “What class do you have next?” he asked you. His tone was softer than his usual tone and he could feel the curious stares from the other students around you. Along with the usual downcast looks in case he snapped at them.

“I have English next,” you grab your bag, ready to walk to class.

He grabs your bag from you and puts it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you,” he just states and starts walking with you to your class, ignoring your confused look and the hushed whispers around you as to why he was being nice to you.

You hurried along after him as he just started walking. You were incredibly confused why he suddenly talked to you and was now carrying your bag for you while walking you to class. You knew who Yunho was. He and his friends were the school’s bad boys which frankly you thought was a cliché title. But then again you lived in a smaller town and he does get into fights. It was maybe also the fact that he wore all black and always glared at people. Again, small town stuff. You honestly didn’t mind much. You had always found him attractive but you didn’t think he even knew your name. Both of you had different circles. He was always with his friends, smoking and you had even heard of them vandalizing stuff. Meanwhile you stuck to your two friends you had since freshman year, liked to stay inside and read and got good grades. The likelihood of him knowing you was small. So you thought.

He walked alongside you in the hallway and you noticed people moving out of your way while giving you curious stares. Great. You hated it when people stared at you.

You reached your classroom and he quickly moved to hold the door open for you. You gave him a confused look and walked into the classroom. Yunho put your bag down at your desk and you were so confused by his behavior you didn’t even question how he knew where you sat as he wasn’t in this class.

He turned to you and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he states and walks off.

You nod before realizing what he said.

“Wait- what? For what? Yunho!” you called after him but he just waved and walked to his own classroom. You sat down at your desk, still confused what exactly just happened. You decided to brush it off and simply focus on class.

Meanwhile, Yunho was freaking out internally. He just did that. He finally had the courage to make a move on you, the girl he’s been crushing on since the first day of freshman year. He sat down in his own class, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest. San who sat beside him gave him a questioning look but Yunho simply gave him a grin.

During the day you started to forget about what Yunho said that morning, brushing it off as a joke. He had not talked to you after and you were sure he didn’t even know where you lived. You simply went home and changed out of your skirt into a pair of jeans to take your dog on a walk.

While you walked you passed your elderly neighbor.

“Oh Y/N dear, how are you, sweet girl? Such a sweet girl as always, taking your dog on a walk. And I heard you got a good grade on that exam. Your mother must be so proud,” she chirped.

You smiled at her, internally wishing you could just keep walking. It wasn’t that she was unpleasant but she, like everybody else, assumed that because you did well in school you were sweet and innocent. Sure, you were polite and you liked to study. But innocent is not a word you would use to describe yourself except for the fact that your real life sexual experience was limited. The only people who knew what kind of books you read were your two friends and they regularly blushed when you gave them a recap of a book you recently read. You also liked alternative things and clothes but you were too shy to actually wear it. Nevermind the fact that alternative clothes can be expensive. So you stuck to your skirts and dresses, which you also liked but you were dying to experiment more. Truthfully, you were scared to do so. You knew how people talked in a small town and you just wanted to get this senior year over with before you went to college.

When you got back home you had completely forgotten about Yunho and his comment so you went up to your room and did your homework while listening to some true crime podcast.

At 6:50pm, Yunho parked his car outside your house. He knew he was early but he was nervous. He had this whole date planned out and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being late. He walked up to your porch and rang your doorbell. While he waited, he smoothed down one of his nicer black shirts and ran a hand through his hair.

You opened the door and gave him a confused look. “Yunho? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?” you asked him.

“I told you I’d pick you up at 7. Are you ready to go?” he chuckled at your expression, ignoring the other question. So maybe he had followed you one or five times. Sue him.

“You were serious?” you asked him incredulously. You noticed he was dressed casual in black jeans and a black shirt but you could tell it was one of his nicer ones as this one didn’t have any car grease stains on it. Not that you knew what his shirts looked like.

“Of course I was serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned at you and took in your appearance. He loved seeing you in your casual jeans and sweater. The sweater paws you had nearly undid him.

“I didn’t think you even knew where I lived. And I’m not dressed for going out,” you looked down at your jeans.

He chuckled and waved you off, “nonsense, you’re dressed perfectly. Come on.”

Still confused, you put on shoes and grabbed your purse. He opened his passenger door for you and waited until you were buckled up before getting into the driver’s seat. He looked over at you while he started his car and the sight of you finally sitting in his car on the way to a date with him made him as giddy as it made him nervous.

While he drove his hand itched to reach over and grab your thigh but he had to remind himself that this is a first date.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned as you looked over at him, trying not to look at his veiny hand gripping the steering wheel.  

He just grinned at you, “It’s a surprise.”

You huffed slightly but let him continue. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, you liked being prepared for things but you were trying to let loose a bit.

Yunho parked the car and as you looked outside you could see the neon sign of the local bowling alley. Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Yunho was out of the car and opened your door for you, holding his hand out for you.

You put your hand in his and Yunho’s skin tingles from the skin contact. He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk inside, going to the front desk to pick out your shoes. You told the clerk your shoe size and after getting your shoes Yunho led you to a bowling lane, putting his hand on your lower back.

“Have you ever been bowling before?” he asked while he put your names into the computer.

“Uh.. like once or twice?” you replied while tying your shoes.

“That’s okay, I can teach you,” Yunho smiled at you and you were once again taken off guard by how sweet he was being.

He gave you a bowling ball, one he knew would be too heavy for you. He chuckled when he saw your arms buckle under the weight.

“Looks like I have to help you,” he teased you and came up behind you, his chest nearly pressing into your back while he helped you hold the ball. You stood in front of the lane, feeling his body heat as he towered over you from behind.

He leaned in to speak softly into your ear, “Focus on the pins and try to throw the ball as close to the middle as you can. Don’t worry about the speed for now.”

You tried to focus on what he was saying, you really did, but his low voice in your ear, his hands helping you hold the ball and the scent of his cologne made you a bit dizzy.

Yunho himself was not faring any better. He was using this as an excuse to touch you but he had not anticipated that it would feel so overwhelming to finally have you this close. He could smell your perfume and the realization that you were so much smaller than him sent his thoughts into a spiral.

Together you threw the ball and six out of the nine pins fell down. The fluttering in your stomach got stronger as you felt Yunho peck your cheek, chaste kiss on your now burning skin.

“Very good. Now you can throw again.”

He let you go for only a moment before he came back with another ball and put it in your hands. His hands didn’t let go of yours as he stepped closer to your back again and walked forwards with you. He leaned down to your ear and whispered instructions to you, which fell on deaf ears, his warm breath hitting your ear and neck nearly making you drop the ball. You managed to compose yourself long enough to throw the ball again with his help.

Two out of the remaining pins fell down and you felt your feet leave the ground as Yunho picked you up and spun you around, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He reluctantly put you back down and you turned to face him, your flushed cheeks tugging at his heart.

Fuck, he was so whipped for you.

He could hear San’s laughter in his mind as the thought this.

His hands shifted from around your waist to your hips as he looked down at you.

“Seems like you’ll lose, Jeong,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“Awfully cocky for a beginner, princess,” he smirked down at you. “You sure you wanna test that?”

“Well, you’d have to let me go to actually do your turn,” you quip.

He raised a brow at you and chuckled, “You think I can’t do that with you in my arms? Watch and learn, princess. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing you to his chest and dragged you along with him while he picked up a bowling ball and then walked forward to throw. Your arms wrapped around his waist so that you wouldn’t fall, your feet dragging over the floor.

“Hold tight, tiny,” he chuckled and leaned forward to throw the ball, tilting you back. All pins fell down and he laughed as he tilted you upright again. He smiled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes. The urge to kiss was almost too strong to resist but he knew he had to. He wanted to do this right and not rush it. But fuck, you were making it hard with your eyes staring up at him, your body still pressed to his, the lipgloss on your lips looking so sweet.

He took a step back, his hands shifting to your hips again. The thumping in your chest took a moment to calm down as you both continued the game, with Yunho winning, of course.

After you both finished your drinks and put your own shoes back on, he grabbed your hand in his and walked with you to the front desk to return the shoes. He couldn’t deny that he felt pride being seen with you, holding your hand in public. He had thought of this since freshman year, watching you from afar, always wondering if you’d ever go for someone like him. Now, three years later he was finally on a date with you and, not to toot his own horn, but it was going quite well.

He lead you outside and you both slowly walked to his car. Once you reached it, he used his grip on your hand to turn you to him. You looked up at him, unsure of what to do now. You hadn’t been on many dates but you really did want him to kiss you. Your tongue swept over your lips for a second, his eyes following the movement.

“Fuck, I can’t…” he muttered and you didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant by that when you felt his hand cup your cheek. He leaned down and kissed you. Softly at first, relishing in the soft gasp you let out. His lips moved over yours, his hand caressing your cheek. You gripped his shirt, needing to hold onto something so you wouldn’t do something embarrassing like stumble or squeak. His tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance.

He was right. Your lipgloss is the sweetest thing he ever tasted. At least until you opened your mouth and his tongue dove into your mouth. He grunted and pushed you against the side of his car, the hand that was on your cheek going up to tangle in your hair.

One of your hands moved up to his shoulder, holding onto him as you felt his tongue move against yours. You could still taste the soda on him that he had earlier and, shit, it was the best thing you ever tasted and you didn’t want this kiss to end.

He used the grip on your hair to tug your head back, biting slightly at your lip. The moan you let out reverberated in his head and he desperately wanted to hear more. He thanked heaven, hell and whatever the fuck was in between that the parking lot was deserted because there was no way he could hold back the growl that left him as he felt your hand on his nape, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, slightly breathless, his eyes dark as he took in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. That godforsaken lipgloss smeared.

“You know what this means, right? You’re my girl now,” he declared, his voice rough with barely held back desire.

You couldn’t deny that your thighs clenched at his words but you still said “No.”

His grip on your hair tightened.

“No?” he challenged.

“Ask me.”

You could tell he didn’t expect that. He looked genuinely confused at your statement.

“You declared you were picking me up for a date and I didn’t mind. But you need to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you tried to keep your voice steady. You actually didn’t mind his assertiveness but you still wanted to make him work for it.

You could see the shift in his eyes and how smile got a little bit darker, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Will you be my girlfriend, tiny?” he asked you, pressing closer to you.

“Yes,” you swallowed, this time not being able to keep your voice from breaking.

“Good girl.”

His lips crashed to yours again, pulling your hair and swallowing your moan. He pulled back before he could get carried away but your whine had him twitching in his jeans.

“I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted.

“Yunho,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to but, fuck, baby… can I taste you?” he asked and he was ready to beg if that’s what it took. Your small nod was all he needed to open the door to the backseat of his car and push you inside. He climbed over you, pulling the door closed.

His lips found yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair. His self-control was hanging by a thread at this point, finally having you under him, being able to call you his.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you…” he mumbled against your lips.

A small whimper escaped your lips and you pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, running your hands along his shoulder blades. You felt him grab one of your thighs and wrap it around his waist. The bulge pressing against you felt bigger than you expected and had you clenching around nothing.

Could you…? No, fuck… not on the first date.

Yunho’s fingers slipped under your sweater, barely grazing your stomach. He felt your muscles twitch under his touch, making him chuckle against your lips. In one swift move he pulled your sweater up over your head and discarded it onto the floor of his car. His eyes found your breasts, covered by a black bra with a little bow in the middle. A little present just for him.

His focus shifted back to your face as he felt you grab at his arms. He leaned back down and began trailing kisses from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Your pulse was racing, matching his own. He felt like he could drown in the scent of your perfume if you let him. His teeth sank into the skin on your neck, where he made sure to leave a hickey. He wanted people to know the girl everyone believes to be so pure belonged to him, the guy who regularly got into fights.

“Yunho,” you whined into his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he grunted into your ear. His fingers found the button of your jeans, slightly trembling with anticipation. Once he had opened your jeans, he looked up at you with a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Use your words, tiny,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whined.

He smirked at the neediness in your voice and began to pull your jeans down your legs. He threw them to the front seat of his car, his hands grabbing the underside of your thighs and spreading your legs to make room for his shoulders.

You felt slightly embarrassed that your panties did not match your bra but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Take your bra off for me,” he commanded, looking up at you from between your thighs and you couldn’t help but obey him.

His lips parted as your boobs were revealed to him. He leaned up, his mouth finding your nipple and gave it a flick with his tongue. You arched up into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He growled and his hands fisting the waistband of your panties until you heard the rip of fabric. You looked down and saw him pocket the ruined panties, now completely bare before him. He shifted himself back down between your legs, both thrown over his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” his voice was dark and heavy with desire. He ran a finger up your slit to your clit, a light teasing touch. He let out a moan and dove down to lick a stripe between your folds, closing his eyes at the taste. There was no way he could ever stop, no way he could ever let you go now. One of his hands held down your hips as you twitched underneath his ministrations.

One hand grabbed at his hair while the other flew up to hold onto the door of his car. You tried to keep your moans down but the feel of his tongue dipping into you made it impossible. Your thighs tightened around his head but it didn’t stop him, if anything it made him more eager to have you fall apart on his tongue. You looked down and saw his eyes looking up at you, watching your every reaction. He sucked at your clit and you pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, the vibrations of his voice making everything feel more intense. It had been a while since someone touched you and it was never this good so you could already tell you weren’t going to last long.

Yunho trailed one hand up to your breast, a finger rubbing softly over your nipple while his tongue alternated between flicking your clit and lapping at your entrance. Every whine and moan fueled his desire for you, wanting to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wanted. He could tell you were close when your thighs shook around his head. He focused his tongue on your clit and pressed a hand down on your stomach.

The pressure on your stomach and the relentless stimulation of your clit and nipple had you coming in seconds. Your fingers pulled at his hair while you moaned his name. Your thighs crushed his head but he didn’t let up. As overstimulation set in, your other hand also flew to his hair and you tried to push him away while you whined.

“Too much, please, Yunho, please…” you whimpered, words barely coherent.

He took pity and pulled his mouth off, licking his lips. His face shone with your juices and despite basically grinding on his face a minute ago you blushed.

He chuckled softly as he saw your flustered expression and slowly crawled up to your face, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him and it made your stomach flutter in need again. He pulled away and you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly while brushing your hair away from your face.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. He continued running his fingers through your hair, covering your body with his to keep you from getting cold. He helped you put your bra and sweater back on when you stopped him.

“Wait, what about you?” you questioned, looking up at him.

“You think I’m gonna taste the girl of my dreams and not cum in my pants?” he replied, his voice rough. He saw your eyes drop down to the front of his jeans, your cheeks burning red.

“So don’t worry about me, tiny. I wanted to make you feel good,” he reassured you.

He helped you put your jeans back on, minus your panties that he ripped and stole. Once you had buttoned your jeans, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. He let out a surprised moan and pulled you closer. His lips left yours reluctantly.

“Let’s get you home before your mom kills me,” he chuckled.

[nyoomfruits]

Landoscar + book

"I think Norris might be into you," Logan whispers, holding up his own book to hide behind.

Oscar looks up from the pages and books spread out in front of him. Lando's sitting a few tables over, reading a book. "Right. And why do you think that?" Oscar whispers back. At the table next to Lando, a girl glares at them. He ignores her.

"He keeps looking over here," Logan says.

"So? Maybe he really wants our table," Oscar says. It is a really good table. Best spot in the library, near the windows so you get some natural light, but never where the sun gets in your eyes. Tucked away in the corner enough to give some privacy while also still being able to overlook the rest of the room. And close to the section Oscar needs the most, so. Perfect.

"You're the only person who's weird about your table selection," Logan says.

Oscar really doubts that. "Maybe he's into you."

"Please," Logans rolls his eyes. "I just winked at him and he frowned. I'm not the one he's after."

Oscar glances over again. Lando hasn't looked up since they started this conversation, so all Oscar can see are his artfully touseld curls, the way his fingers splay the sides of the book. Oscar can't see his face, but he can imagine what it looks like, brows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his mouth. Oscar's been watching him, pining after him, long enough to know. "He's not into me."

"Okay," Logan says. "Sure." And then, with the biggest, shit eating grin on his face. "Then why has he been reading his book upside down the whole time?"

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL — chapter two

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: minimal swearing

themes: fluff, angst, little jealousy

word count: 6.1k

a/n: oh my goodness i’m in love with this chapter! i’m obsessed with this concept and them in general, so so cute my babies fr 🫶 please lemme know how u like it, feedback, etc. also if u wanna be on the tag list, tell me please! enjoy reading my lovelies 𝜗𝜚

the familiar ringtone echoes in azzi’s quiet room, pulling her from her consuming thoughts. she swipes to answer the facetime, and there was paige, her face glowing on the screen. her blonde hair was thrown in a messy ponytail, with a couple strands left loose, framing her face.

“hey!” azzi smiles in the phone, “i was wondering if you’d call.”

“sorry, practice ran longer than usual,” paige explains, her heart quickening at the sight of the brunette.

“typical. you need a break, p,” azzi says, voice laced with concern.

“nah, it’s all good. coach just wants to push me ‘til i reach my ‘full potential,’” she quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes playfully.

“you’re already the best, though,” azzi notes, scrunching her eyebrows downward.

paige tries furiously to fight off her blush, quickly covering her cheeks with her palms. “you’re the best, az.”

azzi simply rolls her eyes at the comment— she attempts to ignore the swirling feeling erupting in her stomach, unsure what they mean.

“i miss hanging out so much,” azzi whispers, leaning herself back against her bed. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more,” paige replies, sharing a similar look of longing.

“how long has it been since we’ve seen each other? like, seven months?” azzi asks, prompting her elbows up.

paige nods as she pulls her lips into a straight line. she doesn’t let azzi know how much she thinks about her, how much she desperately wishes she was near every moment of every day. god, she would do anything to be close to her favorite person right about now.

the two girls continue their conversation, filled with collective laughter and buzzing energy radiating off them. amy, paige’s mother, peaks her head in her daughter’s room, observing paige throw her head back, chuckling at something azzi had said moments prior. she silently smiles to herself— she’s never seen paige like this before, being so consumed by a person, let alone her so called best friend. she automatically knew there was something more, something paige wouldn’t allow herself to admit.

when paige and azzi eventually end the facetime, after talking for about three hours back and forth, paige immediately knows what she needs to do. she pushes herself up off her bed, rushing out of her dark room, jogging until she reaches her mother’s room, where amy is sitting peacefully, with a book in her hands.

“mom,” paige says, “i need to ask you something.”

amy adverts her eyes to her daughter, who’s practically bubbling with anticipation. “what is it, paige?”

“before you say no, please just know it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world,” the blonde pleads, “i was wondering if maybe.. i could go visit azzi.”

amy turns her knowing smirk away from her daughter with her book, which she eventually closes and sets down in her lap. “and when would you do that?”

“i don’t know, preferably really soon.”

amy takes a moment to carefully consider paige’s words, yet she already knows her answer. for months, all paige would talk about is azzi. how talented she is at basketball, stories she shared on facetime, how much she misses hanging out with her— how much she misses her, in general.

the corner of amy’s lips tug into a small grin, already anticipating her daughter’s reaction. “i guess that’s fine.”

the young girl lets out a squeal before running up to her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“we need to discuss the details first,” amy reminds her while she pats her back.

“of course! but i don’t wanna tell azzi— i was thinking kinda like a surprise visit,” paige replies, eyes sparkling with excitement.

as she pulls away, amy catches the light in her daughter’s eyes— an unmistakable blend of pure joy and determination. “that sounds fun. when do you want to go?”

“maybe next weekend, if that’s okay with you? and azzi’s parents, duh,” paige suggests, eagerly.

the lingering smirk on amy’s face widens, the warmth of paige’s enthusiasm wrapping around her. “alright, that’s fine by me. i’ll give katie a text.”

paige plops a kiss on her mother’s cheek to indicate how grateful she is. “thank you so much, mom. i’m so excited.”

“i know you are,” amy glances at the blonde.

as paige walks out of the room, amy watches her with a mix of affection and a touch of nostalgia, realizing how important this trip is for her daughter. how important azzi is to her. she knows it’s more than just a visit; it’s filled with friendship, growth, and a chance for something deeper to blossom.

several days pass, yet paige’s excitement to visit azzi only heightens. she can hardly believe she’s going to be with azzi in a matter of days, counting down the hours like a child waiting for a holiday.

every minute feels charged with anticipation. she’s been spending her evenings planning out the trip, jotting down all the things her and azzi could do together— basketball drills, movie nights, anything, really, as long as they’re by each other’s sides.

luckily, days prior, azzi’s parents were kind enough to agree, allowing paige into their home for a couple of days.

as the day of her departure approaches, paige packs up her bag, triple-checking to avoid leaving anything behind she might need. she grabs her bathroom necessitates— skincare products, toothbrush, floss, toothpaste— as well as a couple of causal, cozy outfits. she also stuffs in some smaller items, like her phone charger, deodorant, wallet, body spray.

once paige is all packed and ready to go, amy grabs her car keys, preparing to make the drive to the airport. no matter how many times amy suggested she comes with her, paige insisted she goes by herself— wanting to experience traveling alone for the first time.

paige slugs her duffel over her shoulder, slowly making her way out of the house and into the car. she pulls on her seatbelt, eager to feel the thrill of independence, but also eager to see her best friend for the first time in months.

the drive to the airport feels like it lasts forever, her anticipation growing beyond limits. however, she relishes every moment, imagining azzi’s face when she sees her.

“are you positive you don’t want me to go with you?” amy questions her daughter, throwing a swift glance her way.

paige nods lightly, “yeah, mom, i’m sure. i need to travel alone eventually.”

“i understand that, but you’re only 16, paige. it’s dangerous,” amy notes, concern laced in her tone.

“people my age fly by themselves all the time— it’s no big deal.”

amy lets out a soft sigh, “alright, if you say so. but please be careful, and stay with them the entire time— no funny business.”

paige rolls her eyes, “mom, i’m literally going there just for azzi. why would i leave?”

amy shrugs, “i don’t know, but you’re a teenager, who knows what y’all do.”

paige chuckles, a grin appearing on her face, “it’ll be good, trust me.”

the two grow silent, listening to the rhythmic beat of the music playing from the radio. paige’s gaze lingers on the window as her imagination runs free. she can’t wait to be close to azzi— to hug her, feel her warmth against her own frame. more importantly, she can’t wait to simply talk with her, in person. azzi seems to get paige, to understand her, better than anyone else in her life. she understands how she’s feeling— she even lets her rant on and on, listening to every word of her nonsense. paige and azzi’s friendship made them think so similarly, basically the same people at this point. the two practically live in each other’s skin with how well they know one another.

regardless of being long distance, paige and azzi’s friendship has remained well in tact. they facetime everyday, talking for hours on end, or until one of them falls asleep on call. each conversation they have feels like a lifeline, bridging the gap between their separate lives.

as the car finally rolls closer to the destination, paige feels a rush of energy and nerves. she can’t help but think what if things are different? she shakes her head, dismissing her doubts. deep down, she’s confident their bond will remain strong even after not seeing each other for months.

“are you ready to go?” amy asks, glancing over at her daughter once she parks the car.

“more than ready,” paige smiles, voice filled with determination.

the mother and daughter pair stroll into the airport, paige with her duffel bag loosely in her grip, and amy walking alongside her.

paige’s mother helps her get through security and everything she might require help for, and before she knows it, it’s time to board the plane.

“remember to call me as soon as you land,” amy squints her eyes, a hint of motherly concern in her tone.

paige playfully rolls her eyes back, “you know i will,” she assures her, “thanks, mom.”

with a final hug, paige steps out of her mother’s tight hold, gathers her belongings and begins walking over to the appropriate gate. the airport is bustling with activity, people going in and out at a rapid pace. yet, all paige can think about is azzi.

she boards the plane with no issues and eventually gets situated and comfortable in her seat. luckily, she has a window spot with nobody sitting directly next to her.

as the aircraft takes off, she gazes out the window, watching the ground fade away beneath her. she tries her best to contain her excitement, but the thought of being with azzi only fuels it further.

the few hours paige is on the plane, she takes the time to relax, watch a movie or two, and eventually heads to sleep peacefully. however, shortly after falling asleep, she stirs awake at a sudden shake of the plane.

she takes a deep, steady breath as the plane carefully lands at its designated runway. she feels a rush of relief crash over her once she realizes she’s made it safely to virginia. the sound of seatbelts unbuckling and the conversations of passengers fills the previous silence of the plane. she takes a moment to gather her things, heart racing as she is getting closer and closer to seeing her best friend.

paige takes the time to give a quick call to her mother, assuring her she’s alright and has made it to virginia safely.

with her heavy duffel thrown over the shoulder of the blonde, she scans the crowd, looking for the familiar faces of azzi’s parents, katie and tim. just as she spots tim, he waves enthusiastically, a wide smile plastered on his face. they previously agreed to come pick her up, which made paige feel much more welcomed.

“hey paige,” katie tilts her head, observing the young girl who continues to radiate eagerness.

“hello mrs. fudd,” paige lips turn up, nerves still swirling in her stomach.

katie gives her a soft, fast hug around her shoulders, “please call me katie, you know this.”

paige lets out a small laugh, “right, sorry.”

tim and paige exchange a quick hug as well, welcoming one another. “how’ve you been, kiddo?”

paige shrugs, “pretty good. basketball is really crazy right now.”

“ah, same for azzi. poor girl barely has any time for anything outside of basketball,” katie notes.

“i know, she’s told me like a thousand times,” paige chuckles at the memory of azzi ranting on and on about her practices.

tim and katie share a knowing look, subtle smiles on their lips. the three walk through security, then off to their parked car outside. tim takes the drivers seat, while katie positions herself in the passenger spot. jose, azzi’s brother, is seated on the right side in the back, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, clearly bored out of his mind. paige takes the seat next to him on the left, and gently setting her bag at her feet.

“hey jose,” she says.

“what’s up,” jose looks up, a smile on his face.

a comfortable silence hangs in the car as they travel down the road. finally, katie speaks up. “azzi’s going to be so happy about this.”

“i sure hope so,” paige says, “i know i am.”

azzi’s parents laugh, glancing at one another once more. “she’s been talking about wanting to see you so much, i’m glad it’s finally happening.”

paige’s eyebrows shoot up, “she talks about me?”

katie looks at the blonde in the rear view mirror, “practically everyday, paige.”

“it’s so annoying— always going on and on about paige this, and paige that. she’s like, obsessed with you, i swear,” jose adds, breaking his silence.

katie gives her son a look as paige’s eyes widen. she figures he’s kidding— there’s no way azzi is obsessed with her, even though paige definitely is.

“actually?” paige whispers, eyeing the young boy.

jose nods rapidly, a flick of annoyance on his face. paige feels her cheeks redden at the thought, although she is still unbelieving.

the car comes to stop, indicating they’ve arrived at the fudd home. paige’s heart pounds in her heart, her purse quickening at an abnormal rate. she swings open the car door, flinging her stuffed bag over her shoulders once more.

“i’m so excited for her reaction,” tim laughs, eyes crinkling.

“me too,” paige says through her wide grin.

katie unlocks and opens the front door, revealing an unusual silence. paige scans the room, looking for her favorite curly headed brunette. she gently sets down her duffel next to the empty couch, still questioning where azzi is.

“she’s probably in her room,” katie speaks up.

paige nods, slowly inching down the hallway before reaching a door labeled ‘azzi.’ she smiles, because it’s just so azzi.

she opens the door quietly, heart racing once again. inside, the room is dimly lit, fairy lights casting a warm glow. paige takes a moment to admire the chaos— books piled high, notes scattered across her desk.

looking to the left, her eyes finally lock on the familiar face of her best friend, who’s currently engrossed in a novel with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, not bothering to look up. paige smirks at the sight of azzi like this.

“you’re such a nerd,” paige says, eventually announcing her presence.

azzi looks up and is immediately taken aback. her lips part as shock washes over here, not quite understanding how paige is here, in her house, in her room.

not wasting a moment, azzi throws her book down, allowing her blanket to flow to the ground. she rushes paige, yanking her into her embrace— her arms wrap tightly around her back, squeezing the life out of her, trying to convince herself this isn’t some sort of sick dream.

“how are you here?” azzi murmurs against the blonde’s frame, who’s holding her equally as tight.

“my mom agreed to let me come here, after i practically begged,” paige laughs, casually adjusting her hand to be placed on the small of azzi’s back, “your parents picked me up from the airport.”

azzi nuzzles her face against the crook of paige’s neck, “i missed you so bad.”

paige’s smile only grows, stepping back until both she and azzi are sitting on her bed, still wrapped in each others warmth. azzi couldn’t get enough of paige, her best friend, being so close like they haven’t seen one another in months.

“i missed you, az.”

the two girls finally pull away, settling in a comfortable silence, the weight of being separated still hanging in the air.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” azzi whispers, eyes roaming the blonde’s face.

“me either,” paige whispers back, holding eye contact.

a moment goes by with the pair just looking at each other— paige can’t seem to find a singular flaw in the entirety of azzi’s face. she’s one of the most stunning girls she’s ever laid eyes on. the way her brown curls hang around her face perfectly, to her cute dark brown eyes full of admiration. she could stare at azzi for hours.

paige clears her throat, breaking the moment before it becomes too heavy. “so, what do you wanna do?” she asks, a look of longing still apparent on her expression.

“um..” she takes a moment to think, trying to get her mind off the blonde in front of her, “we can watch a movie?”

“that sounds nice,” paige nods, agreeing with the idea.

the two girls make themselves comfortable on azzi’s messy bed— azzi lays closer to the wall, while paige lays out besides her, not quite touching the younger girl.

paige and azzi settle on one of their favorites, the parent trap. paige lets out a soft yawn, trying to keep her exhaustion at bay— she doesn’t want to go to bed yet, considering how little she’s talked with azzi so far.

throughout the course of the movie, the girls make small talk, discussing their favorite parts of the movie and basketball related things. paige brings up an nba game, to which azzi rolls her eyes, not caring if it isn’t about steph curry.

“azzi, paige, dinner is ready!” katie yells from down the hall.

the pair is slow to get up, eventually pulling themselves from their positions on azzi’s comfortable bed. they make their way down the hall, fingers nearly brushing, but paige pulls away before any touch can occur— it’s not that she doesn’t want to, she does— it’s the fear that prevents paige from pushing for anything further.

azzi’s family, including paige, find their designated spots at the dinner table. paige naturally sits next to azzi, scooting her chair slightly closer to her best friend.

as they eat, barely any conversations develop, as they are solely focused on the food in front of them. it isn’t until tim speaks up does the silence break.

“so paige, any boyfriends we should know about?” he questions before taking another bite of food.

paige coughs, choking on her food at his sudden question. paige glances at the brunette next to her, who is shy to meet her gaze.

“um, no— no boyfriend for me,” paige politely smiles, quickly turning her attention back to her plate.

azzi shifts in her spot, adjusting her legs quietly. paige lets out a jagged breath, noticing the growing, slightly awkward silence.

“azzi has a boyfriend,” jon, one of azzi’s brother, smirks.

paige feels her heart skip a beat at his comment— she’s never thought to ask azzi about her love life, it simply was never a conversation they ever had.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi defends, throwing her younger brother a look. her lips pull into a line as she squirms in her seat.

paige’s gaze drag over azzi’s frame, her curiosity growing to an excessive amount. azzi briefly meets the blonde’s line of sight, a flash of vulnerability passing between them.

“really?” paige whispers, trying to keep her tone light despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “i didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

azzi fidgets, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness swirling in her face. “it’s not serious or anything… we’re just hanging out,” she explains, her voice a bit quieter than usual.

as the meal wraps up, and the conversation flows between azzi and her family, paige can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. azzi has a boyfriend— well, a boy she’s hanging out with. she watches azzi laugh with her brothers, only intensifying the longing in her chest.

eventually, paige and azzi head back into azzi’s room; paige makes sure to widen their distance as the feeling from earlier still suffocates her. once inside, the familiar comfort settles around them again, but it feels different now, filled with unspoken words.

azzi flops on her bed, pulling a blanket, one of many, around her shoulders. “i’m so glad you’re here,” she says softly.

“me too,” paige murmurs, avoiding any sort of eye contact with the brunette.

a moment of silence stretches between them, the conversation from the dining table still making an impact. eventually, azzi breaks it, looking more serious than before. “is something wrong?”

paige looks at the ground, feeling embarrassed to be so upset over such a small thing. why is this having an effect on her? they’re best friends, not anything more.

“why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend?” paige looks up, a hint of sadness in her tone.

“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi repeats, but continues, “i don’t know, though. it’s nothing serious, so i figured it wasn’t really important.”

paige takes some time to digest azzi’s words. not long after does she reply, “i understand. i don’t think i’d tell you if i was seeing someone either.”

azzi’s lips scrunch, although she understands where the older girl is coming from. relationships, dating, any kind of love talk was unusual for them.

“what’s his name?” paige asks, trying to avoid anymore silence between them.

“jayden,” azzi smirks, eyes twinkling in the glow of light.

paige hums, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “jayden, huh? sounds… nice.”

azzi notices the slight tremor in paige’s voice, “yeah, he’s cool, i guess. we just hang out, like i said.”

“just hang out,” paige echoes, her mind racing with what that could entail. she bites her lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotion swelling within her. “what does that mean?”

azzi breaks eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “we talk, go to the mall, things like that,” she replies, her voice trailing off.

paige swallows hard, the weight of azzi’s words settling in, “but you like him?”

azzi hesitates, her fingers twist the fabric of the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “i mean.. maybe a little? i’m not in love with him, or anything.”

paige nods slowly, but the pit in her stomach doesn’t ease. “i see.”

more silence stretches between the two girls, unsure what to say next.

“are you… okay?” azzi asks, noticing paige’s change in mood.

paige flicks her head to look at azzi, “yeah, sorry— it just caught me off guard, y’know.”

azzi nods, understanding where she’s coming from. “i get that,” she whispers.

azzi turns back on the movie they were previously watching before getting interrupted for dinner, making herself more comfortable on her bed. paige lays out on a beanbag, not bothering to share the bed with the younger girl.

they watch the parent trap quietly, not wanting to force any conversation. eventually, night rolls around and the movie ends, the soft glow of the screen flickering out. azzi yawns and stretches, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“wanna call it a night?” she says, glancing at the clock.

paige nods, though she feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of leaving the comfort of their time together. “yeah, that sounds good.”

azzi smiles gently before gesturing to the empty space next to her on the bed. “you can come over here. there’s plenty of room, and much more comfortable than the beanbag.”

paige hesitates, wondering if the tension from their previous conversation still hangs. “you sure?”

“of course,” azzi assures her, her voice light and genuine.

with a sigh of relief, paige moves off the beanbag and shuffles over to the bed, where azzi lays fully under the covers. she settles in besides azzi, the warmth of her friend’s presence instantly soothing her. they lie side by side, yet the distance between the girls is evident.

paige adjusts her position, allowing herself to face azzi, although she’s turned towards the wall. she stares at the back of azzi’s head, thoughts still consuming her. her mind goes back and forth, wondering why it matters that azzi’s talking to a boy. she’s her friend, why does she care?

she tries to convince herself it’s something else, a reason that doesn’t involve any sort of feelings towards the girl in front of her. she takes a deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of azzi’s shoulders instead. yet the truth lingers, unacknowledged and nagging.

paige stirs away, eyes pulling apart ever so slightly, just enough to glimpse at the brunette laying peacefully asleep next to her. it remains dark, telling paige it’s the middle of the night.

the older girl realizes the distance between them has shortened, making azzi only inches apart from herself. their legs are twisted together, while her hand is loosely on her forearm.

feeling bold, trying to ignore the speed of her pulse, paige gently intertwines her fingers with azzi’s. an innocent act of affection that feels natural— considering they’ve done it countless times before— yet it’s filled with more tension than before.

azzi shifts slightly, a light sigh escaping her lips, but she doesn’t fully wake. instead, she instinctively squeezes paige’s hand, a sleepy smile on her face.

paige swears she feels her heart skip a beat. “az,” she whispers, but azzi only moves closer, nuzzling deeper in her pillow.

with a gentle smirk, paige rubs her thumbs against azzi’s hand, feeling a comforting warmth spread between them. it feels perfect, their shared moment— paige tries desperately to ignore how much she enjoys touching azzi, regardless of how little holding her hand is.

as the world outside fades away, nothing but the sound of azzi’s soft breathing in the air, paige allows herself to relax, drifting off to sleep with a new sense of peace, knowing that they’re connected, even in the dark.

two days pass with paige staying with azzi, enjoying her company and wishing she could stay with her, forever. the laughter they share throughout the day and the quiet moments spent talking about whatever comes to mind, each day filled with a new layer of intimacy and admiration for the other. they walk hand in hand, convincing themselves every pair of friends casually do it, while they steal glances at each other, lingering just a minute too long.

as the third and final day of paige’s stay settles in, paige curls up in a blanket, positioned on azzi’s bed— the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light through the window. azzi has been unusually quiet the entire day, lost in her own consuming thoughts. paige sensed it ever since earlier, but hasn’t questioned her about it— as she drifts asleep, she silently hopes her best friend is doing alright.

around midnight, the soft sound of rustling pulls paige from her dreams. she painfully opens her eyes to see azzi crawling through the window, eyes red with tear stained cheeks. “azzi?” she whispers, her heart racing as she sits up, becoming highly alert.

azzi looks up, her eyes wide and glistening with fresh tears, “i’m sorry—“ she begins, voice shaky, “sorry for waking you.”

paige quickly moves until she reaches the brunette, pulling her down to sit on the bed, facing her. “what’s wrong, az? where were you?”

“i went to see jayden… he said he wanted to see me,” azzi whispers, shame laced in her voice, “he tried to kiss me and i panicked, so i pulled away. after that he kept saying mean things, like how he never liked me, how i’m not even pretty…”

paige swears she hears her own heart crack at the vulnerability of azzi’s words. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around azzi, pulling her close in a comforting manner. “i’m so sorry, az,” she mutters softly, feeling her friend’s body against hers, “you deserve to be treated so much better than that.”

azzi’s shoulders tremble as she leans further into paige’s grip, already feeling better with paige’s presence near. “i don’t know why i’m crying, i didn’t even like him that much. it’s just the things he kept saying…” she continues, letting out a small hiccup.

paige rubs her hand back and forth on azzi’s back, trying to soothe the girl. with this doing, azzi grows too consumed in how good it feels to be in the arms of paige.

paige pulls back slightly, just enough to view her face. “you are so special, azzi. please don’t let some boy make you feel any different.” with that, she leans in and kisses azzi’s forehead, her hands coming up to cradle her face. she drags her lips down to her cheeks, covering every inch of her face with soft, featherlike kisses. azzi’s heart lunges in her chest, feeling her pulse heighten with every kiss paige plants on her tear-stained face. when she places a final, longer kiss along her jaw, she looks up, “and for the record, he’s wrong for saying you’re not pretty. you’re fucking perfect, az.”

she sniffles, a small smile breaking through her now fading sadness.

when paige pulls away, azzi’s lips apart, wearing a hint of shock in her expression. her eyes roam the familiar blue ones that she loves all too much as tension hangs between them.

“please don’t leave tomorrow,” azzi shuts her eyes, dread of paige’s departure now overpowering her thoughts. she leans her head to touch paige’s shoulder, as her hands find their way to the blonde’s waist.

paige leans into the touch of the younger girl, not willing to admit how much she loves the feel of azzi’s hands on her body. “trust me, i don’t want to,” she replies quietly, her pulse racing at their closeness.

“then stay,” azzi attempts a smile, “stay here, with me. stay forever if you want.”

“you know i want to,” paige whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.

azzi searches paige’s eyes, lost in her bright blue irises. her gaze drops to her lips for a brief moment, before meeting her eyes once more. paige shallows, feeling the tension fuel between them. before the blonde has time to react, azzi leans forward, connecting their lips in a soft, tender kiss. paige kisses her back, soaking up and savoring every second azzi’s lips are on hers.

the kiss dies out when azzi slowly, hesitantly pulls away, regardless of her brain screaming to continue. she takes her grip off paige’s waist, looking down nervously— did she screw everything up?

paige notices azzi’s face, clearly racked with anxiety. “it’s okay, az.” she gives her arm one last squeeze before the two girls crawl back into bed, creating some distance to avoid any further tension.

azzi soon drifts off, sleep overtaking her body after wearing herself out from all her crying. paige, however, lets her mind run free, questioning and worrying if something as little as a kiss they shared has the potential to ruin their friendship. will things change between them?

paige forces her eyes shut, trying to focus her energy on getting some rest. those attempts are useless, though— paige barely gets any sleep that night.

the morning arrives slowly for paige, considering the little amount of sleep she got throughout the night. sunlight creeps through the window, casting a gentle glow in the room. she blinks, adjusting her eyes to the light. realization that today is the day— the day she leaves azzi— sets in, making her breath hitch in her throat.

sitting up, paige glances at azzi, still soundlessly sleeping, her hair tousled in a such a perfect way. for a moment, paige allows herself to savor the sight, the way her best friend looks so serene, completely at ease.

with a heavy heart, paige gently nudges azzi. “hey, sleepyhead,” she whispers, keeping her voice light.

azzi stirs, blinking sleepily at paige. “what time is it?” she mumbles.

“eight in the morning,” paige replies, forcing a smile despite the tightening in her chest. “i have to pack.”

azzi eventually sits up, the remnants of last night’s emotions washing over her. she shifts, feeling the awkward tension arrive in the air. “you’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

“yeah. i wish i didn’t have to,” paige nods, shallowing hard.

azzi bites her lip, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “me too, p.”

paige lets out a quiet sigh, trying to hold her heart from crushing in her chest.

paige spends the next few minutes silently packing up her duffel, wishing to god for one more day, here— with azzi, her azzi. she stuffs her toiletries into the pockets, alongside the outfits she previously packed. azzi watches, mentally preparing herself to watch her best friend leave, again.

“do you want help?” azzi asks.

paige shakes her head, trying to maintain her focus and continue packing. “no, i’ve got it. thanks though,” she answers.

as paige zips up her bag, the room feels suffocatingly quiet with all the unspoken words around them. “i hate this,” azzi whispers, voice thick. “i really don’t want you to go.”

paige turns to face her, the sight of azzi’s vulnerable side striking a chord deep within her. “neither do i,” she says, stepping closer, “it’s alright— i’ll come back eventually.”

“promise?” azzi’s eyes search paige’s, looking for the reassurance she so desperately needs.

“i promise, az,” paige says firmly, tone full of sincerity.

paige finishes up packing her bag, trying to drag her thoughts from overwhelming her brain completely. katie starts up the car as paige throws her duffel in, reality crashing down on her hard. azzi decides to join her for the car ride to the airport, wanting to stay with paige as long as she possibly can. the two girls climb into the backseat together, the tension in the air palpable.

as they drive towards the airport, the city flashing by, yet paige feels as if the time has slowed. her gaze trails azzi’s figure, who’s staring out the window, lost in thought. “you okay?” paige nudges her softly.

azzi shrugs, “it feels too real now,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

“i know,” paige sighs, equally as quiet. she reaches for azzi’s hand, giving it a squeeze, capturing everything she wishes she could say.

they arrive at the airport— paige’s stomach curls just looking at the large doors, awaiting her entrance.

katie parks the car and the three step out into the chilling air, not bothering to make discussion. they roam into the airport; the sound of travelers and announcements fill the atmosphere, but all paige can focus on is azzi— azzi, who she’ll be leaving in a matter of minutes.

“let’s get you checked in,” katie suggests.

as they walk towards the terminal area of the airport, paige keeps the brunette closer, grabbing onto her arm to avoid loosing her in the crowd of people.

after successfully checking in, the moments of paige and azzi are limited. paige glances at her, her heart beating faster and faster. “i wish i could take you with me.”

“me too,” azzi whispers, attempting to smile at the blonde.

a couple of minutes pass with paige and azzi remaining close in distance, dreading the announcement of her broading. when it later comes, paige arises from her seat, as does azzi.

paige doesn’t wait to pull her friend into her arms, wrapping them around her frame. azzi clutches onto paige as if she’ll never see her again, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing she could stay like this forever— in paige’s arms, surrounded by her warmth.

they pull back, hands continuing to explore each others bodies in a friendly manner. paige’s blue eyes meet azzi’s brown ones, sharing a look of unspoken affection— fear, love, and an undeniable connection.

“i’ll miss you so much,” azzi reminds her, eyebrows pinching down.

“i’ll miss you more,” paige smiles, ignoring the knot in her stomach. “love you, az.”

azzi’s breath hitches in her throat, “i love you too,” she mutters, leaning in to place a long kiss on her cheek, cupping the back of her head for support.

paige turns, eyes finally tearing away from azzi as she begins walking to her gate. she glances back, finding azzi still watching her leave, looking as sad as she feels. she offers a wave and a small smile, in a way to let her know she’ll be back, when the time is right.

paige immediately pulls out her phone, not waiting a moment to text azzi.

just landed. i miss you already. can’t wait to see you again, she texts.

the response is quick: missing you loads more. facetime when you get home?

the corners of paige’s lips quirk up— obviously, she replies, excitement bubbling through her.

with a smile, paige tucks her phone away, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. she knows she won’t be seeing azzi for a while— months, maybe more— but she knows their connection, their friendship can withstand the distance between them.

[amozon28]

#YES YES YES#like i already LOVED this part the fact he used it and was angry enough to do so while knowing exactly what it feels like was already so#good. reading a discussion about it by one of the writers makes it even better#one thing i love about callum as a hero is that the 'if i kill them/do this to them then ill be the same as them!' doesnt apply to him#if its warranted in the moment and done to protect those he loves most/himself. then hell fuckin do it. even when it comes to dark magic#hell do everything he can to avoid it but still will if needed#and also sometimes he does stuff cuz hes just so pissed off and done. good for him. i love heros who have a genuinely good amazing heart#and morally good and love to be goofy but also arent afraid to get dirty and mean if its needed in a fight#or if theyre insanely defensive of those they hold most near and dear. which is 100% callum#i know i may be saying stuff wrong about him. im not a creator for the show. but i have been watching it since 2019 and the only fictional#character in any media who i adore more than him at this point is rayla. so.#also its late. and adhd brain go brrrr. so. excuse the rambling#((also i have to say idk if yall do it intentionally but i SWEAR that lad has adhd he has SO MANY symptoms. its like looking in a damn#mirrors sometimes cuz like 'haha i do that.' had an itch in the back of my brain as to why something stuck out about him for years that#felt like 🤝 then i realized in the last like year or 2 that he has a lot of adhd s/s. especially in arc2. and like recognizes like and all#that. i dont care if its confirmed its just stuck out to me for a while and multiple others in the fandom with it agree. so. idk. dont mind#me im just rambling))#anyway cool scene i LOVED this moment. especially how when claudia tried to electrocute him and he deflected it then looked at her for a#second like 'oh REALLY?' and then immediately did this spell. knowing full well the agony is causes. and hearing the screams of agony from#rayla too. the love of his life. with that driving him up the wall to become feral#yeah. was shocked by this but it also slaps so severely. thank you for your service

Honestly one of the coolest moments in the season was the Claudia vs Callum mage fight. It was quick and instense and showed how far Callum has come, how he matched Claudia spell for spell, and that he wasnt afraid to be ruthless, using the same freezing water/blood spell used to torture him and rayla back in s5

[windcarvedlyre]

I've been following @druidposting's DR2 playthrough on discord and we just had a really good discussion about DR's Closing Arguments. Specifically the way the murderer is depicted as grey and featureless, which until now I found a bit annoying.

In Danganronpa it's repeatedly the case that we don't have the full picture until the talking actually stops- which always goes beyond the end of the trial. We generally vote first and come to understand what the murderer's actual motive was, sometimes filling in important pieces of the timeline in the process, afterwards.

But none of that matters for the killing game because characters' emotions aren't directly relevant to who was the 'blackened'- the only thing that matters to Monokuma- so it comes out afterwards and does nothing to change their execution. It doesn't matter how sympathetic they are (basically everyone) or whether other people share responsibility for the situation (eg. Hanamura, Pekoyama, Momota) or whether they intended to murder at all (Nanami). They objectively pulled the trigger and nothing else matters. Nothing about them as a person matters.

The Closing Argument mechanic might illustrate that problem- literally. They're a dramatic, conclusive summary of the entire case... constructed before the vote even happens, before we know if we're actually right, and they're missing something really important:

The actual perpetrator.

We quite literally don't even begin to see the real person behind the crime, any real exploration of their mental state, anything besides the cold, hard facts of the murder that are necessary to convict them, until the comic finishes and the protagonist makes their final accusation- replacing the grey figure with their real appearance in a shot that's often intensely emotional.

And these comics lack crucial parts of the case's timeline and sometimes important parts of the very scenes they depict that we only find out about afterwards. And those are what we know; characters may die with some pieces of the truth and prevent us from ever learning them. These aren't objective depictions of the murder, they're the protagonist's subjective attempt to connect the facts they have. A join-the-dots portrait of someone with missing dots and no colour.

Even characters' expressions may not match how they truly feel, with the grey placeholder potentially looking way more confident and sinister than they were in reality. Pasting Falter's commentary here since they put it well.

For obvious reasons this could especially be a problem for characters that die before the trial- the ones we never get a post-vote testimony from. DR1 chapter 4 really highlighted that in the way Asahina's huge misinterpretation of Oogami's feelings took up a lot of the post-trial discussion, only for Monokuma to reveal Oogami's real suicide note and recontextualise everything.

It might really be a problem for how Komaeda's depicted in DR2 chapter 5. While he isn't greyed out, we get panel after panel where he's either level-headed or maniacally evil, and even the depictions of his self-torture and death don't humanise him:

But we know that his real feelings were more complicated than that. We have his actual corpse to compare the last page to.

He died afraid.

If we approach the comic as Hinata's mental image of him instead of reality, he died without anyone truly understanding him. He was alarming, very hard to relate to, actively fought against people doing so, ensured even the killer didn't watch him die, and the survivors couldn't begin to understand his motive until a chapter later. The Closing Argument reflects that.

Early in DR1 Togami calls out the rest of his class for judging others by their own standards. However, he, too, is doing this, maybe more so than many other characters; his inability to view other people through anything but the cold, brutal logic of the killing game bites him in the ass in chapter 4. In DR2 chapter 2 voting without a good understanding of Pekoyama's motive or Kuzuryuu's involvement nearly got everyone killed. Komaeda's a walking embodiment of the problems with flattening people into caricatures and not empathising with them, suffered from people doing that back to him, and his case- the Closing Argument for which turned everyone else into grey placeholders- was impossible to solve with objective facts. It was only survivable because the survivors cooperated and one person tried to analyse things the way he would.

The games have always been a critique of the justice system and Japanese society and push us to care about others as individuals, not reduce them to- and judge their right to exist by- something they've done or their net impact on society. There are always consequences when someone neglects to do that, and the above might be yet another way the games explore that theme.

[princesssarahblog]

bad habits - series - part 1

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!fem!reader

jj is your sweet boyfriend, but he has bad habits that lead you both to quarrels and misunderstandings

warnin: angst (happy ending) the reader is jealous of jj to kiara, a bit of a nervous reader, short!reader and wears high heels (sorry), smoking, drinking alcohol, quarrels and misunderstandings, shouting, separation for a while and then reunion

author notes: I don't know english very well, so I use a translator. I always write everything with a small letter and a small font because I feel comfortable that way

It was night. you was in your room at home. you was taking care of your feet, applying creams and ointments and then covering them with a plasters. you does this almost every night because you always wears heels because of your short stature. your window was open, you wasn't expecting anyone. but someone will definitely arrive

when you finished caring for your feet, you grabbed a book and decided to read it while sitting on the windowsill. you didn't want to sleep yet

a few minutes later, jj was walking down the streets, making his way towards your house. his hand was stuffed with cigarettes, hoping this would be the night he could finally talk to you after the last few days, he had been trying and trying to approach you but you had been very distant. a sigh came from his lips as he lit a cigarette, he could probably sneak into your room through the window. he stood outside the window, looking in, hoping you would notice him

turning his head to the right, he saw you herself. you was reading a book on the windowsill, he decided to scare you by grabbing your fragile shoulders and pressing you to himself.

you opened your eyes and looked at him in shock

"jj! you-"

but, you are shut up and a soft kiss is left on your lips, causing you to blush a little.

"hello to you too, baby" - the blond boy said with that beautiful smile that you love so much.

"ugh, you smoked.." you said with disgust, turning away to get some fresh air. you hates it when he smokes or drinks weed or alcohol, you was worried about his health.. especially since he comes home beaten up every day, because either kooks or his father do it

he sat next to you on the windowsill and placed his head on your shoulder. but you pulled away when he leaned in. this made him sigh. It was hard to talk to you lately cause you always had a bad reaction. "sorry" he mumbled

jj really didn't want to bother you, but since he was now so close to you, he could see the plasters on your feet and the scars that were starting to form. he felt really worried about you. because he knew how bad you would get when you was stressed out. "are you okay?" he asked cautiously.

"now yes" you suddenly grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and threw them out the window.

now you was happy, you knew that it was hard for him to buy cigarettes and that made you happy. you didn't want your boyfriend's health to get worse

jj's eyebrows furrowed as you threw his cigarettes out the window, causing him to sigh. he really needed them right now to calm his nerves, "hey! I needed those!" he complained.

"agh, you smoked weed with kiara again?" - you frowned when you smelled the weed on him. you were friends with kiara of course, but.. sometimes she got on your nerves.

「you was honestly jealous of jj for her」

this made jj look away from you. he didn't want to admit that part because he knew you'd freak out again.

"so what if I did?" he mumbled under his breath while getting a good look at her. he could see in your eyes you was jealous.

"you know, then you better go away. go back to kiara, to anyone. smoke, drink, do whatever the hell you want! i'm tired of this!"

you raised your voice, and distanced yourself from him again.

「you needed time」

jj's eyes widened when you raised your voice and got up. this is exactly what he tried to avoid, fighting with you. but every time, he somehow managed to do it.

"no, no, don't be like that.. please" he mumbled and grabbed your wrist so that you couldn't run off. he had difficulty saying words like "please" and his mischievous and cheerful character had completely disappeared.

"I'm sorry.. I.. I, we need time. I think.. it's best for us. please, you need to go." you softened and your gaze became more gentle, you looked up at jj with that warm and gentle look you always had on him. you raised your hand slightly, gesturing with it.

jj's gaze was heavy, he looked at you with seriousness on his face. when he is serious, he can seem scary. but, he will never hurt you. he nodded and left through the window, giving you one last look and disappeared into the night.

「you need time」

[lucygraysboy]

“sugar pie,” the cowboy echoes with a laugh, thinking they should put that on the posters. billy the kid, known also as sugar pie. “i guess that explains it all. sundance! did you hear that?” he playfully calls out, glancing over his shoulder towards the white horse who seems to be ignoring him completely, munching on some grass spiced with wildflowers. “you better eat your veggies or you’re gonna shrink.” obviously, that’s not how it works, but since her theory makes little sense to begin with, why shouldn’t he add to it? “that’s insane, right? what kind of fairytale is it? and the woman that he marries? she claims to be the one who saved him from drowning just ‘cause she found him on the beach. but the mermaid saved him.” the author of that story must have been drunk while writing it, labeling it as a book for children. “that’s what i’ve been thinkin’, too. he was only a pretender. real princes don’t act like that.” eyes gleaming with amusement when lucy gray seems to be just as appalled by the plot twist as he is, he finds it comforting, knowing they can relate. “alright, but you be careful.” he reluctantly lowers her down, making sure she can reach the bottom of the lake with her feet and stand comfortably before letting go. “oh, i get to be the ship, too? alright, i’ll name her… the ranger. and i’ll be prince,” he hesitates for a moment, trying to come up with a good, suitable name, thinking about all the other books that his ma used to read him and all the fictional princes, “tristan.” like the one from tristan and isolde. “rainmist is a beautiful name. rainmist and tristan,” he muses in approval, stifling a grin and clearing his throat as he gets into character, too. “oh, no! the rocks! the rocks are too big! how could we not see them? we’re gonna crash!” billy calls out, struggling to refrain from laughing. his problems non-existent. it seems as though they were the only two people in the world. “we’re gonna crash!” he takes a deep breath and dives under the surface, arms outstretched to locate lucy gray. his fingertips brush against her leg and he gently bumps into her belly, making sure not to actually knock her over. 

“i promise, sugar pie.” lucy gray happily speaks, patting his chest gently. finding it adorable of him. “i know it, i guess i didn’t eat as much of veggies as you.” soft laughter escapes her, knowing all that comes down to genes. he must have had a tall dad or mom, she wonders which. “what?? the prince marries someone else?” shocked— she didn’t expect to hear that at all, what a plot twist to the story she didn’t even see coming. “he wasn’t a true prince at all, then.” quite the opposite to her. “alright, you be the pirate prince and i’m the mermaid with a hurt tail fin. who jumps in an’ saves me,” the brunette agrees, grinning in amusement. “that’s terrible, that poor girl deserved better. not did one thing happen bad, but a million more and she watched the love of her life marry someone else before dissolving into foam. heartbreakin’.” she’d like to have a word with that author, that wasn’t even necessary. what’s wrong with him or her? “i’ll hop off your back now before you go in too far…” lucy gray instructs, letting her legs go from his waist, “you swim by me and then you bump into me. you can be the ship first. then you’ll be a prince once i need savin’.” she grins, slipping into the water waist deep where she can still feel the ground. then she sits down, water coming up to her chin now, “i’m a mermaid named rainmist, brushing my hair.” getting into character, brushing her fingers through her locks. putting her feet together, splashing her ‘tail fin’. “out here, enjoying this warm almost summer day.” humming a song, waiting for ship billy to come by and knock her off her pretend rock.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-seven of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim keeps kissing Bernard just as easy and appreciative as he slides another fingertip lightly along Kon’s rim all slick and warm, and Kon realizes he must’ve grabbed the lube again at some point. He didn’t really–notice, before. It feels . . . it’s good, and his body opens right up for it the same as the last two. Feels–feels warm, and a little bit tight, and like just enough of a stretch to notice. Feels full, and like he’s doing something right; doing just what Tim wants him to be doing; being just what Tim wants him to be. 

He concentrates on that, and not the part of him that wants to get kissed like that by somebody again. 

“I think actually getting Timmed might be worse,” Bernard half-mutters, and Tim laughs, and Kon’s chest tightens up in a weird way. 

He likes how they feel around him; inside him and against him and wrapping him all up. He likes how they kiss each other, and how Bernard makes Tim laugh like that, and how they look in cute couples’ selfies together, and just how happy and easy Tim gets whenever Bernard comes up in conversation. Really likes how their heartbeats sound together. Likes it all. 

It just hurts a little right now, for some reason. 

Kon doesn’t . . . he doesn’t get what about that’s . . . 

“Kon,” Tim says, stroking his free hand up his ribs, and Kon’s whole head all reorients from top to bottom, just like every time Tim ever says a single thing to him at all, and especially every time Tim says his name. “Do you remember what you asked for?” 

Kon . . . frowns, a little, and can’t . . . he asked for something? 

“Dun . . . dunno,” he manages to mumble, and Tim’s fingers stroke up inside him and between them and Bernard’s cock he really–he really– 

It must be the pink K, he thinks a little bit vaguely. Like–it must be, right? That he wants specifically cock right now, and wants specifically cock this fucking bad. He doesn’t wanna get out of Bernard’s lap at all, even with Tim’s fingers inside him again too. And like–there’s being invulnerable enough to make it easier to take cock and there’s, like–obsessing over wanting cock, which is definitely not the same thing. 

But, like–he does always get real into the girls he fucks too, and specifically real into their cunts, so . . . like, it’s the same theory, right? He always wants to take his time and go back to them again and again; eat them out and fuck them as many times as they’re willing to let him and even stay inside them even after they’ve both come, sometimes, and . . . 

So it’s just–it’s the same thing as that, right? Just–reversed, or whatever. Just the other way around. 

. . . well, that’d definitely explain how hard it’s been to stop thinking about sucking Tim off again. 

He wonders if–like, if he could maybe spend as long doing that as he’s spent eating out some of the girls he’s slept with. Like, definitely not as long as he could with Cassie or anybody else on that level of endurance and invulnerability, and definitely not as long as Cass was nice enough to let him, especially since Tim’s not gonna be able to come as many times as a girl anyway, but maybe . . . maybe if he takes his time about it, he could get somewhere a little closer to how long Anita’d rode his face the last time they'd fucked around or the couple of times Cissie’d told him to just stay under her desk in her dorm through her midday break while she’d done the reading for her afternoon class. 

He wonders if Tim would let him under his desk, if . . .

[absofckinglutelys]

what is grief? ; lighter x gn! reader

author's note: happiest birthday to my baby Lighter! This is a birthday gift from me to you! I am posting just in time before his birthday ends in my timezone, so this fic may have some grammar mistakes and I apologize for that. But my brainrot when I saw Lighter's birthday art has returned and I just had to write a fic in just one sitting inspired by his bday art. This is an interpretation of the art, and I have shaped it to what I thought could be possible.

warnings for subtle hints of Lighter's trust events! sprinkle in survivor's guilt and you have a traumatized man.

this fic is also a continuation of this fic that i have posted before, so i recommend reading it first before reading.

enjoy!

----------

“Researcher!” You full on bodily flinched when that familiar nickname only the people in the Outer Ring called you. You fumbled your notes in your hands as Caesar yelled through the quiet space of your camp. You checked the time on your watch, 11:41 a.m. It wasn't even near the time where you were supposed to be picked up to return back to Blazewood.

You sighed to yourself before turning to look at the approaching figure of the soon-to-be leader of the Sons of Calydon.

“Caesar.” You greeted plainly, still a little spooked by her sudden call. Her grin was wide and bright like the sun in the background, you narrowed your eyes at her, silently staring at her (not so unusual) cheery self.

“You're early.” You stated, watching as she shifted her feet in excitement. “Big Daddy's busy again?”

“He's busy alright.” Caesar says cheerfully, you furrowed your brows at her in confusion.

“Researcher~ Don't you know what day it is?” Caesar's mood slightly dampened at your lack of enthusiasm, you only gave her a deadpan look.

“Care to tell me what's gotten you excited?” You asked as you shuffled your notes to make it more organized.

“Y'know Lighter right?” Caesar asked.

“Of course I know him, Caesar. We've been roommates for a while now.” You sighed.

“Well, since you've been roommates for so long, you should know it's his birthday today.” Caesar huffed, you looked up from your notes in surprise.

“It's December 27th right?” You blinked at her as Caesar sighed. “It is. You two are practically living together, how do you not know this?”

You cleared your throat as heat traveled to your face, you looked away in embarrassment as you mumbled out, “Well, he's not really the most talkative person…”

“To make up for it,” Caesar announced, grabbing you by your arm to drag you to her bike. “You're helping us plan the party!”

—

The Sons of Calydon were good with most things, mainly, getting the job done.

But the one thing they were not good at was subtlety.

Point A being...

“Happy Birthday!” The Sons of Calydon exclaimed as the lights turned on and confetti sprinkled across the room. Standing in the doorway was the man of the hour, with not a single hint of surprise on his face, with Big Daddy chuckling behind him.

The Sons of Calydon surrounded him, mostly complaining of his lack of a reaction (Caesar, Billy and Burnice). You meanwhile sat lazily by the lights since it was your job turning it on when the pair stepped through.

You snickered under your breath, you already told them they weren't being subtle to what they were planning, but they were convinced Lighter would be caught off guard. Guess they were majorly disappointed.

The party dragged on as the Sons of Calydon adorned cheap party hats and convinced Lighter to blow out the candles, you volunteered yourself to take the pictures. Snapping every second to savor the moment.

Everyone settled down to eat, with Burnice handing out the Nitro-Fuel. You have no doubt everyone will be drunk well into the night.

You huffed out a sigh as Billy animatedly talked about one thing or another as you slowly drank from your cup of Nitro-Fuel. Everyone was either becoming drunk or tipsy, someone must've turned up the music to some popular hip song as everyone shouted over the music.

The drink brought the warmth to fight off the chill of the night, so you excused yourself to escape the noise.

You walked out of the building that held the new guy's birthday party. Now that you can actually hear your own thoughts and don't have anyone drunkenly screaming into your ear, You weren't as drunk as you thought you'd be.

So you weren't surprised to see the new guy leaning against his bike, far away from his own party.

You had half the mind to just walk away, leave the guy alone and walk off into the night. Maybe go back to your research and organize.

But you thought back to what Caesar said. You have been living together for a while now, and you haven't had the slightest clue who Lighter actually was. You didn't really try, the guy looked like he wanted to be left alone.

Just as you were about to turn away from his silhouette and back to your research, you hesitated. You turned back to him.

It wasn't fair to assume, friendship was a two way street after all.

You sighed to yourself, before stuffing your hands into your pockets, psyching yourself up to talk to the guy.

“You're not at your party.” You started as the new guy turned to you. You cringed to yourself at the blunt statement, you tried to make up for it as you approached him, “The others really wanted to surprise you with a party.”

You stood a little aways from him, hands still in your pockets as Lighter observed you.

You hummed at the very eyes that were hidden behind shades almost all the time, now looking at you. You have to admit, the guy had pretty eyes.

You cleared your throat as embarrassment ran through you, okay where the hell did that come from?

“Just not in the mood I guess..” Lighter mumbled out as he looked away from you. You stared at him for a few seconds, noting the lack of shades and his hand fidgeting with the chain of dog tags he always carries around with him. You decided to walk slowly before stopping right in front of him.

The two of you shared a moment of silence, while it wasn't uncomfortable, it was unsure. Unsure how to start a conversation, unsure how to breach the subject. Your eyes continued to travel to Lighter and the dog tags clutched in his hands. You weren't stupid, you know what it meant.

Just as you were finding topics to bring up just so you can actually talk to the guy, Lighter beat you to it, “You've… been researching the Hollows for a while now right?” He asked so quietly, you had to strain your ears just to hear him. You looked at him with a question in mind, but decided not to ask it. “I have.” You answered.

“Any progress?” Lighter asked, you have no idea if he was genuinely curious or was asking for the sake of a conversation.

“Not… really…” You sighed to yourself, thinking back to the Old Capital and the lives lost. You closed your eyes to hide the grief and the regret that was surely present.

The silence was deafening between you two, you were already regretting talking to him as it dragged on. You puffed out an exhale, the Outer Ring’s night air was growing colder by the second.

“Have you ever lost anyone, Researcher?” Lighter softly asked. You looked back at him in surprise, not expecting for someone so guarded to ask such a vulnerable question.

But Lighter wasn't even looking at you, instead, his attention was back to his dog tags. Eye lashes kissing his skin as he continued to look down.

You bit your lip, thinking back to the screams of the innocent and the pleas of mercy. You closed your eyes as their scornful faces appeared in your mind.

“I did.” You answered plainly, observing the man who was deep in thought.

Another bout of silence before Lighter finally looked at you, eyes swimming with a question he was desperate to have answered. “Yet you still have that drive in you.”

You blinked at him, now that he wasn't focusing solely on the metal in his hands, you looked at his flushed cheeks and his slurred words. You felt the tension in your muscles relax as you softly looked at him.

“You still have that– determination. To do what you do, how the hell do you do it?” Lighter asked, voice not above a whisper. You haven't seen a man so broken down, and you didn't expect the man to be someone like Lighter. Who stood tall at the face of adversities, someone who faced the world and fought back.

You feel like you were looking into a mirror.

“I lost people.” You admitted, shifting to stand beside him as you looked up at the night sky. The moon was full tonight and the galaxy away from this planet was visible this far deep into the Outer Ring, no light or air pollution to hinder the sight.

“But, lingering on grief won't fix anything.” You felt Lighter's gaze stare intently at you, despite his apparent tipsiness, the guy still has his focus.

“I feel… guilty in a way I can't explain. And I want to fix that, but I've learned that feeling guilty will only hinder me from what's really important.” You continued. You have no idea why you were admitting this to the guy who you haven't even talked to one on one without the Sons of Calydon present. Was it the Nitro-Fuel? The tipsiness? The added frustration and stress? Or is it because Lighter understands?

You let out a quiet chuckle, amused by the absurdity of it all, but Lighter continued to look at you, with a hint of something in his gaze.

“I guess I've learned that, I don't need to just… grieve. I need to live because that's what they would have wanted, for me to live.” You said, emotions swimming in your gaze, but you haven't noticed his stare yet as you looked down.

“I mean, I've lost them, yes. But their loss isn't the end, I will always miss them. I will. But I know that, I can't just stay grieving forever, right?” You rambled, not noticing Lighter leaning further in your space.

You fell silent as you looked at the sand beneath your shoes, parting your lips as a sigh escapes you. But you felt no heavy weight in your chest, only a feeling as light as a feather. Were you so drunk that you rambled to the guy whom you don't know much about?

But you smiled nonetheless, the feeling freeing as a bird fluttered in your chest, you looked back at the night sky with its dark blues and grey clouds.

“So what is grief, if not love preservering?” You looked back at the man beside you, before falling silent at his focused gaze on you. He didn't look tipsy or drunk, he just looked��� amazed.

A warmth crawled into your collar as you processed Lighter's gaze on you, you cleared your throat and looked away. Mentally reprimanding yourself from becoming so sidetracked that you rambled to Lighter.

Just as you tried to compose yourself, Lighter silently stared at you with his lips parting in surprise. Lighter thought for a moment, he looked at the dog tags in his hands, running his thumb through the luster before he smiled to himself.

“I guess it is love preserving, huh?” Lighter mumbled as he put the dog tags around his neck, hiding it within the folds of his red scarf and settling it on his chest.

You looked at him in surprise as the man stood to his full height.

You cleared your throat as Lighter turned his attention back to you.

“Are you going back to the party?” You asked, pointing with your eyes as you looked between Lighter and the old diner where the party was being held.

Lighter was silent as he looked between you and the party, with its loud music and probably drunk partygoers.

Lighter hummed as an idea popped in his head, “I was thinking of driving around.”

You tilted your head at him as he looked at you, his eyes were a pretty shade of green with a hint of red. What a unique eye color.

“Do you wanna… join me?” Lighter hesitantly offered, you blinked at him in surprise. This time, you observed the party in the background and then back at the man before you.

Go back to the noisy ass party and it's drunk party goers or take a ride with Lighter?

Well, Caesar did say to get to know the guy better.

But there was one problem, “I don't, uh, exactly have a bike, man.” You said pointedly.

Lighter seemed to pause in thought before he shrugged, “You can ride with me then. If you still want to, of course.”

You looked at the man with surprise as he pulled out his shades from his pocket to put it on. You were going to miss that green.

You silently reprimanded yourself for that line of thought, you weren't that drunk, right? You don't feel drunk or even tipsy, so where the hell did these sudden thoughts come from?

“Well, if you don't mind.” You tried to feign an air of nonchalance, but ultimately failed as the once stoic man in front of you let out a small chuckle, “I'll make sure to take care of you, Researcher.”

[ellie722]

Sevika headcanonsᯓᡣ𐭩

𐙚 Hello!! This is not my usual type of post,and I’m not used to sharing the stuff I write for myself with others but my friend convinced me to!

𐙚 Warnings: None,just lots of fluff! I’m not sure what setting this would be in,but I guess you could count it as canon if nothing went wrong..?

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who literally DEVOURS books day by day,like one day you would get her a book she really wanted and the next day she’s yapping about how amazing the ending was,she didn’t have bad eyesight before but since she’s doesn’t drink as much she finds herself with nothing to do so she starts reading,something she always wanted to do,and after reading so much,day and night,her eyesight started to get damaged,it’s not just the books also the age and the stuff she’d been exposed to while working for Silco.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who still has all her old clothes,all her teenage stuff is packed away in the wardrobe and sometimes she takes them out to remind herself what once was.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who actually likes it better without the heavy metal arm,of course when she out and about she has no choice but to wear it,thugs are lurking around the corner everywhere,but when she gets home the first thing she does(after throwing her boots off) is detach her arm and throw it somewhere in the living room corner. She’s actually pretty good with her balance and can do almost everything with only one hand,of course the stuff she can’t do she’ll ask you for help.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who has a pickup she stole from a music shop years ago,it still works and surprisingly well,after a while when you get bored of all of her jazz and sappy music she let’s you play your own shit on it,your vinyl collection isnt that big but she appreciates your taste.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s not as neat and tidy as she could be,she tries her best,but folding clothes with one hand is pretty hard,so she just shoves them in her closet,and moping and vacuuming is pretty hard too,so she gets herself one of those ting vacuums that work themselves,she trips over it a few time but gets used to it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who’s eyes sparkle in the dark,majestically so. She doesn’t know how it happens or that it even happened before you pointed it out,she said it probably something to do with the moonlight and becaus her eyes are grey,but it’s so beautiful. Also kinda scary when you get up to get a glass of water and Sevika comes after you all quiet and when you spot her you have a little heart attack seeing those two big sparkles.

ᝰ.ᐟ Sevika who journals because she’s scared of age catching up to her. She writes down every little thought about you,and all the loving moments she has with you along,she also writes reviews about the books she reads in there,it’s not like anyone reads them.. but she enjoys writing her opinions somewhere.

Sevika who actually starts enjoying life alongside you. 😽