#A controversial dish you say?

[samadhifired]

Sooo I just realised a thing, had to google something to make sure it won't be an issue and apparently, this is a thing?!

[sodacowboy]

they should make a sharing a chore with your mother experience that doesn’t make me want to turn into the shrimp from shark tale

[xwiredearbuds2014x]

Lowkey tired of hearing about love languages

[theladygazingatemptiness]

not to be dramatic but. for the last couple of months I've been feeling like my body isn't truly mine

[kooyabooya]

HIERARCHY

m reader x dahyun // 9k words

(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)

“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.” 

“Perfect. Send her up.” 

It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place. 

“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”  

-

It’s as simple as it sounds: 

She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action. 

And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.

This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless. 

“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?” 

Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves. 

“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.” 

“Meaning what, sir?” 

Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing: 

“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale). 

“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.” 

Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long. 

“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?” 

“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.” 

“What about them?” 

“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.” 

Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion. 

She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.” 

“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.” 

“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?” 

Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student. 

But you’re not. 

The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room. 

You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed. 

“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.” 

And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week. 

She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows. 

“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.” 

The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face. 

At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky. 

You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done. 

“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.” 

“What!?” 

“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.” 

“That’s what this is about?” 

“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge. 

“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.” 

You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response. 

“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.” 

Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you. 

“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.” 

You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her. 

“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.

Her brows crunch in response to the title. 

“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.” 

She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips. 

Still no answer from her as of this second. 

“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.” 

Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal. 

“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-” 

“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.” 

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is it…just the one?” 

“Just the one.” 

Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t. 

“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.” 

Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year. 

“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.” 

“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-” 

“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.” 

“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?” 

Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”

“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.” 

She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow. 

Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on,  “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?” 

Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–

“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I told you. No.” 

“Really now?” 

“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders. 

Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place. 

Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point. 

“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.” 

She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing  her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy. 

Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly. 

Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders. 

A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate. 

“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”

Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark. 

“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.” 

She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?

So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.” 

It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands. 

“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.” 

A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too- 

“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-” 

“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.” 

This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too. 

“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-” 

You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her. 

Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing. 

“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.” 

It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before. 

Because her act is rapidly deteriorating. 

“Sir, I don’t follow-” 

“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”

“And how would you suggest that, Superior?” 

“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.” 

You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”

“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips. 

“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?” 

She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you. 

“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts. 

There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head. 

“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.” 

“Good.” With a sigh of relief,  a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward. 

This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into. 

You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and- 

“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?” 

You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her. 

“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven. 

“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.” 

She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.” 

“And that is?” She asks, naively. 

There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches. 

“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips. 

Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit. 

“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.” 

Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit. 

You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?” 

She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell. 

“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point. 

A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust. 

“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?” 

“What-” 

Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement. 

Strike one. 

Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk. 

“Superior, ah-” 

“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.” 

“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-” 

Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two. 

“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.” 

“Sir, please. I just need to-” 

You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.  

What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured: 

There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well. 

“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?” 

She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head. 

“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.” 

A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.” 

“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin. 

“Y-yes sir, I-” 

And another. 

“I’m not convinced yet.” 

Then another strike. 

“F-fuck sir-” 

One more hit to bring the tally up to seven. 

“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.  

Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?” 

She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.” 

You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin. 

“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again. 

“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-” 

She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass. 

You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.” 

“What do you mean, Superio–” 

Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more. 

“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”

“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.” 

“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?” 

“Absolu-” 

The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning. 

“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.” 

“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.” 

Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-” 

“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her. 

Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises. 

But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching. 

“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-” 

“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.” 

She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone. 

“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?” 

There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different. 

But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time. 

“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.” 

She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability. 

“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.” 

“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.” 

A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well. 

“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base. 

“Oh, my fucking-” 

A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust. 

Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more. 

The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever. 

“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-” 

“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.” 

“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.” 

You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier. 

She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-” 

Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around. 

A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.” 

She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it. 

“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?” 

She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.” 

You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it. 

Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her. 

“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement. 

It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-

“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off. 

“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does. 

Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash. 

One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens. 

“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.

“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless. 

A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?” 

Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal. 

You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon. 

“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.” 

She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before. 

“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.” 

An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about. 

“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.” 

Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.

“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.” 

She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.” 

[inzuinzudesu]

Please zoom in to see small Kakashi! 😭 He kinda disappeared 😭😭😭

Text translation: "Infinite Tsukuyomi" (無限月読)

Drew these in mid-July - when I started doing digital again actually 🤔

Took inspo from the Balut - a street food in my country; I hear a lot of people are grossed out by it?? Don't know if this is controversial, but I personally love the dish. Essentially grew up with it after all!

Wanted to draw something that feels a bit creepy but still has a sense of mysticality to it???

Meh, don't know if the feeling got across or not

I thought since Halloween is coming up, might as well post this haha

About the process of drawing these!

These were very fun to draw! I messed around a lot with photoshop to achieve this glowy dusty effect?? From the brushes to the blending options, and maaan the filter gallery 😭😭 Such fun tools to play with.

The main brush I used to achieve the dusty effect is called "KYLE Bonus Chunky Charcoal", in the Kyle Dry Media brush set. If you can, I recommend checking it out! There are definitely other ways to achieve this sort of effect, though. You can probably just use some sort of scatter texture brush and it'd work just fine. Studying is all about trying things out, right? This is like my first experiment with this type of effect, and I was happy at the time. Now looking back, these could most definitely turn out better, no? I really went overboard with just the effect and forgot everything else. The blood and the plate looks horrible man. If you look closely, you can see the sketch lines haha! I got lazy!

Also, for Obito's pose, I relied heavily on a reference I found on pinterest 😭 I wish I'd changed the pose more tbh, it looks really boring.

And I gotta say, these just look underwhelming in this smaller size. Like reaaaaaally underwhelming. Would love to show you the big version, but oh well! 😭😭😭

Brain vomit time!

I love the prospect (??? is that the right word) of Obito being all god-like and powerful after Tsukuyomi, having control over everybody's dream worlds?? And like he jumps from dream to dream, but stops at Kakashi's and picks it apart???? Observing and tormenting Kakashi with his childhood form that has both sharingan???????

Kakashi would probably be confused with Obito's appearance at first, asking questions like "What are you up to this time, Obito?", but then wouldn't receive any answers??? Like little man would just stare at him creepily, and Kakashi would push this to the back of his mind for a while???

Umm below is the technical stuff, I guess??

My headcanon is that the time span in the dream world is the same as the real world. Meaning, 30 years in the dream world feel incredibly real, with no gap of memories. It's essentially a different timeline. Whether this makes sense or not, who knows haha!

Let's talk about the dream events and how they affect Kakashi! Due to Sakumo and team Minato still living, this Kakashi probably wouldn't be as lax nor sad as in canon?? The relationships and personalities would be different huh???? I'm having a headache thinking about this, so let's just say that: 1. Sakumo lived because the villagers weren't as harsh, but the animosity still remained. Kakashi still developed this obsession with rules, but he doesn't blame his dad as much. 2. Kannabi happened, Kakashi was given the sharingan, along with Obito's ninja way. Team Minato thought that Obito died for a while, but Obito is 'rescued' by Madara, same as canon. 3. Rin would still be targeted by Madara, but Obito came in time to help with the situation, blocking Kakashi's chidori from connecting with Rin's chest, but also knocking Kakashi away. Then, a Mist enemy took advantage of the situation to attack Kakashi, injuring him gravely, to the point where everybody thought he died. With this, Obito activated his Mangekyou and exploded on the Mist enemies, killing them all. Meanwhile, Rin tried to heal Kakashi, just barely saving him. As Obito had dealt with the enemies, there was no need to rush back to the village, and the Sanbi wouldn't be released till then. And so, they waited for Minato to come and help with Rin's seal. (About Obito's Mangekyou activating with Kakashi's death - would that be too far-fetched? My reasoning is that Obito would think that it was his fault Kakashi died, because it was Obito who knocked Kakashi away into the enemy, no?) 4. Because there's no one to become 'Madara' now that Obito came back to the village, Naruto is born, Minato and Kushina live.

5. The Uchiha massacre doesn't happen.

(Everything is incredibly convenient, because I don't have the brain power to make it otherwise, please help 😭😭) -> In conclusion, this Kakashi resembles the Kakashi of the real world, but less depressed and self-destructive??? He loves his living comrades. My man still has a massive obsession (more like crush lol) with Obito by the way, just like in canon. He just doesn't show it.

-> About Obito of the dream world (I'mma call him Dreambito), he is all sunshine and brightness, but he exhibits some dark thoughts and deep rage from time to time due to the residual effects of Madara's seal on his heart. The seal has been removed though. And he has this obsession with Kakashi's safety, as he almost pushed him to his death once, albeit accidentally.

-> I was debating whether to just start this dream world at the point where Obito got crushed, or to start it at the beginning of Kakashi's life. In the end, I went with the latter, cuz ya know, I like the idea of Kakashi living through a whole life all over again, just to finally come to the realization that it's all a dream. Does that make any sense at all??

Obito (child form - 13) first appears in front of Kakashi at the start of the Naruto series, when Kakashi has officially become the teacher of team 7. (Let's not change this okay, my brain would fry haha I'm not gonna deny that the idea of Obito and Kakashi becoming co-teachers of team 7 isn't incredibly fun though)

After the first encounter with this child Obito, Kakashi begins to have flashes of memories from the real world, and he hallucinates about people's deaths - mostly about the members of team Minato. This young Obito is always in the corner of his vision, most of the time silent, sometimes saying things like "You trash" to Kakashi whenever he encounters Rin, who is whole and grown up in this world.

Kakashi exhibits more destructive behaviors as this goes on, the line between the dream events and the real events slowly blurring. He takes more dangerous solo missions out of the village, and shows strong signs of PTSD, just like in canon.

The two Obitos would contrast each other?? Like Dreambito would be all concerned with Kakashi's decline in health (both mental and physical) and goes to confront and comfort him, many times over because that's how it is with them??? Dreambito might even move in with Kakashi, being the obsessive and protective Uchiha that he is. Meanwhile young Obito would be an absolute asshole, saying all these horrible things to poison Kakashi's mind haha

At this point, Dreambito'd be in the last stage on the journey of becoming Hokage, gaining the all the trust from the Uchiha clan, the village elders and the villagers as a whole. I don't know about Rin, though? Should she be romantically involved with Dreambito or no? Would Kakashi dream that??

I think Kakashi's dream would somewhat focus more on Dreambito being happy and satisfied, to be honest. I know there's Sakumo and team Minato as a whole, but as a degenerate shipper, I love the obsession between them🥺

I don't think Obito would directly interfere with what Kakashi is dreaming about, i.e. changing Dreambito's behavior, or like the political situation of the villages (?). But he would most definitely insert himself in Kakashi's psyche, no? Mess it up real good.

Kakashi would slowly realize that he is living a dream world, after all the flashes of memories that Obito generates in his mind. He would most definitely deny it at first though, I think? And then it would reach a point where Kakashi remembers everything from the real world, but he has also lived through 30 something years of the dream world, meaning he'd be in his 60s?? Does that make sense or no?

And so, while Kakashi now knows that everything is a dream, his feelings for everybody in the dream are real. If that's the case, is it really that important anymore that he escapes the Tsukuyomi? Can this dream world really be called fake at this point? Is there even anything in the real world for him to return to?

What's to say 'the real world' isn't a dream at this point?

-> Kakashi would completely close in on himself after this. He still does things that he would normally do, but it'd be all an act. He would feel completely isolated.

-> Dreambito would notice and confront him again, now that they live in the same house??? Kakashi would like say everything is fine and try to act more convincingly, but Dreambito would still know something's wrong????

-> Obito is observing from afar, who knows what his motivation is at this point.

Because this is Kakashi's dream world, I suppose he would have the power to change this world to his will, now that he's aware? This is like a lucid dream situation???

The people in the dream have their own will up until this point, but Kakashi can somewhat change their behavior if he really wants to, whether it's subconsciously or not??? Example: He can probably will Dreambito to kiss him or something lol

So on and so forth!

Man, I'm having waaay too much fun imagining the pain. There are probably like a thousand things that doesn't make sense haha! I do wonder how this sort of storyline should end though, does anybody have any ideas? Personally, I prefer slow burn with a (sort of) happy ending, but ya know, angst all the way is good too! I can't write, but I love thinking about all the things that could happen 😭😭 English isn't my first language, so this might have felt weird to read at some point haha

If anybody wants to develop this, please feel free to do so! And if you've read this far, thank you for reading this absolute brain vomit of mine! I love to yap, as you can tell haha Have a good day!

[idiotgojo]

Jjk men and how good they're at cooking

Oh this is so 😭🔥🤪💥💳

#1 Nanami! Like as if you didn't already guess. Bro is a house husband. Even though he's agreed to split chores he always offers to cook for even if it isn't his turn. He's always searching for new recipes to enjoy and is experimental not only in bed 🥰

#2 Satoru! Listen i know this might be controversial but hear me out, gege did say gojo is good at everything he tries. So maybe after a few failed attempts he's running that kitchen like a five star Michelin chef. Never does the dishes.

#3 Megumi! Tsumiki and him were left alone a lot when gojo was away on missions. I'm sure he picked up a few good cooking skills along with Tsumiki.

#4 Geto! Girl dad. Of course he's doing his best for his little girls. He specialises in breakfasts only don't ask me why.

#5 Choso! Probably has never stepped into a kitchen, but would be enthusiastic enough to learn if he was offered to be taught. Would gradually get better at it. Loves taste test!

#6 Toji! He trie(d)s™

#7 Yuji! Would unintentionally burn down the kitchen

#8 Sukuna! Would intentionally burn down the kitchen

[satoruzip]

jjk men as your boyfriend <3

Satoru would be the type of boyfriend who spends a bunch of money on you. Every time you look at a piece of clothing, it’s in your closet the next day. You’ll mention something you wanted but couldn’t afford, and Satoru made sure you got it. You started feeling a bit bad at some point because he was buying you so many things. “Toru..this is really sweet, but I didn’t need all this. Maybe lay off on the gifts for a bit.” you’d snicker. “How longs a bit?” he would say smiling. Holidays were absolutely ridiculous. Even after begging Satoru to calm down with the crazy displays, he still spoiled the hell out of you. I think Toru would be more of a hugger and cuddler. He’s always latching on to you and slipping between your arms.

Nanami would be such a gentleman. Opening doors for you, zipping up your dresses, and helping you put on your shoes, even if you didn’t ask. He would take you out to fancy dinners, and when you weren’t feeling that, you two would sit on the balcony and eat a dish he prepared for you. He definitely pays most of the time but doesn’t mind if you decide you want to treat him. He’s so sweet and constantly makes sure you’re comfortable. “Those heels aren’t bothering you, honey?” “Are you sure you don’t want my jacket?” He’s just so perfect and is a wonderful boyfriend. Nanami loves kisses. Even a simple kiss to the forehead makes his day and he especially loves it when you kiss his cheek before he leaves for work.

A bit controversial, but I think Sukuna would be a good boyfriend…he’s a little crazy and very blunt, but I feel he can be sweet in his own way. Your favorite dishes are always prepared by Uraume for dinner, just as you like them. Sukuna is overprotective and views you as “his.” He constantly asks where you're going and why you’d do something without him. in public, he stands behind and glares at everyone who even looks remotely in your direction. He compliments you sometimes, too. “Why don’t you wear that dress every day?” “Your hair is different.” Very strange but so cute! I also feel like he would love holding your hand. He pretends he hates it, but loves the feeling of your hands in his.

a/n- sorry this is so late school is kicking my ass :( i’m so grateful for all the love on my previous works and hope you all enjoy this ! this was very fun to write so lmk if you guys want more. it’s a bit of a long one but i love it <3 requests are always open ^^

[rowretro]

YANDERE ENHYPEN REACTION:

You try the orange peel theory on them.

✧taglist: @httpsrinrin

✧warnings: toxic/yandere themes, mentions of harassment

✧synopsis: Yandere Enhypen as your boyfriend. You recently saw a few videos on tik tok about the orange peel theory so you decided to try it on him, curious about his reaction...

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

✧LEE HEESEUNG✧

The male frowned, seeing you record on your phone, heck he was curious. You weren't the type to often post anyways. However, when you asked him to get you an orange the male was even more confused. "I thought you hated oranges-" Heeseung pointed out as the girl looked up at him "I know, but now I'm craving them" the girl said as Heeseung shrugged.

Heeseung peeled an easy peel orange for her and gave it, as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You need anything else princess?" he asked as the girl shook her head, smiling up at him. "Hol up... are you recording this? why?" The male asked as she stopped recording the video "It was... just a tik tok trend-" she said as the male sighed.

✧PARK JONGSEONG✧

Jay would do anything to spoil you and you know it. Yet being locked in this great big mansion does have you feeling bored sometimes, so you decided to try this trend with him "Jay~" You called as the male ignored you "Baby~" you called again as he turned to you with a smile "what can I do you for pretty princess~" Jay said with a smile as the girl giggled.

"Can I have some oranges?" the girl asked as jay immediately got 2 oranges, peeling them and separating them onto a dish, making a heart shape. "You could've asked for something other than oranges- I'm a good cook you know- let me spoil you with my food~" The male said as he gave her the oranges. The girl smiled, hugging him.

✧SIM JAEYUN✧

The male knew exactly what you were up to. Please. Him and Niki spend so much time on tik tok, they've come across this videos a few times, so it's no surprise to him when you ask. He feels a little betrayed by the fact that you're testing him, but he didn't dwell on it knowing he could use this so called test against you. Heck he even put the fruit bowl near you.

"Babe can you hand me an orange?" you ask as Jake frowns, acting oh so believably "uh sure?" he says, taking an orange and peeling it for you "Here, need anything else?" he asked as the girl just hugged him. "Why are you recording this... hold on is this a test???" he asks as the phone finishes recording. Oh how he looked so upset and betrayed. You were buying every second of it, and he loved that because now he can be even more manipulative.

✧PARK SUNGHOON✧

Sunghoon was there when you saw the video. You were watching a Rebal D youtube video where he reacted to things that seemed so wild. Heck he saw how you reacted to the videos that were shown. So it was no surprise that you'd try it on him. The man was already making something in the kitchen when you started recording at the dining table.

"Babe can you gimme an orange?" you asked as Sunghoon frowned "but- I'm making us one of them fancy orange drinks, yk the orange creme dream or whatever it is-" Sunghoon asked as the girl blinked. "If you really want one then I can give you one, but that orange won't taste as good as what I'm making... you know I'm telling the truth I have experience as a barsita-" Sunghoon added as you snickerred, taking his drink instead.

✧KIM SUNOO✧

You were going to see the brand new saw movie because you heard it was pretty controversial, people had thrown up at the theatre during the movie. But Sunoo was taking a little while getting ready, hence you thought it'd be the perfect time to test a theory. It's pretty ironic actually, given that you fell in love with him after he murderred the man that harassed you and kidnapped you to force you into being his love. So yes very healthy.

"Babe can u gimme an orange?" you asked as Sunoo stared at you with wide eyes "You want to eat an orange. before we go to the theatres. to watch the newest saw movie. where sm people threw up when watching it???" he asked as you grinned "You think I'll be scared and throw up babe? Horror movies are our thing- just gimme an orange~" you pouted as the male shrugged, peeling an orange and handing it to you.

✧YANG JUNGWON✧

Like Heeseung and Sunoo, Jungwon was completely clueless about your little tik tok plan so it was all pretty wholesome. You hid your phone and started recording "Babe can you gimme an orange?" you ask as Jungwon narrowed his eyes at you "Do you want the peely one or the cutting one?" he asks "The one that peels please~" you respond as he goes to the kitchen.

He comes back later with a peeled orange in his hand "bon apetite~" he said with a smile as he gave you the orange. Smiling, you kissed his lips "I- can you kiss me again on the same place please?... I'll get you another o-" You cut him off with yet another kiss, to which he smiles. Heck when he saw the video appear on his following page he just smiled knowing everyone knew that you are his,

✧NISHIMURA RIKI✧

As mentioned before, Riki and Jake do so many tik toks together, and the male knows about every tik tok video you've ever watched or liked, some of them even being edits of other idols, but he let you off the hook. When he saw you secretly record, he smirked, he never bought any oranges for a while so if anything she'd look stupid. "Babeee~ can u gimme an orange?" the girl asked as Riki turned to her. He was going to just say there are no oranges, see that little pout on your face because you tik tok plan failed.

However... you just looked so fucking cute. "We don't have any oranges babe... but if your hungry... I'll take you out for dinner instead" he said. You immediately got up, and ignored your phone, running upstairs "I'M GONNA GET DRESSED LETS WEAR MATCHY HOODIES!" You screamed as you ran to get dressed. Riki rarely took you out because he hates exposing you to other people who may steal you from him... But seeing how excited you got, he couldn't help but chuckle "So fucking cute" he snickerred.

[midnightscramble]

unsure if you’ve already been asked this or it’s planned but would love to see a part 3 for good luck, maid! if you’re open to it 😆 not picky about what’s in the plot but might be cool to get a situation that forces either one to confess their attractions to each other ☺️

Good Luck, Maid! Part 3 (Violet Bridgeton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: I only write based on requests left in my inbox, this is the first formal request, and thank goodness for it, I was itching to write more for Violet! Thanks for the detailed ask (if it's not to your liking feel free to request again, don't be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet implores a friend to find out the circumstances around Y/n's previous employment. Y/n and Violet have another accidental meeting late at night. Violet's feelings manifest.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, touch starved Violet, fingering (Violet receiving), technically they do it in public, period typical homophobia, brief discussion of skewed power dynamics, no Beta read

Lady Danbury had been quick to agree to Violet's request for tea, and by midday they sat across from each other in the Danbury estate's drawing room.

After the exchange of usual pleasantries and talk of bubbling gossip around the Ton, Lady Danbury had surmised the true purpose of their meeting. "I take it you are ready to discuss the unspeakable?" Palming her cane in one hand and delicately bringing the teacup to her lips, Agatha raised her eyebrows in her usual prompting fashion.

Violet suddenly went to stand. Wringing her hands together she walked towards the piano, admiring the vase of flowers which sat upon it. She nervously rearranged them and cleared her throat, "Yes, it seems as though I have developed uh, how do I phrase this..." Violet turned to look at her. Patient as ever, Lady Danbury raised her chin and let a soft smile grace her lips.

"I have developed feelings for a member of my staff."

Lady Danbury threw her head back and cackled in response, "By the way you were behaving, I had thought you were going to say you had developed feelings for a criminal of some kind. To have feelings for a member of staff, while frowned upon publicly, is surprisingly common. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Dear." It never ceased to surprise her the shame that Violet Bridgerton would inflict upon herself for being like the rest of high society.

Inhaling through her nose and feeling her eyes start to sting, Violet lowered her gaze to the ground, "And if these feelings were criminal, then what, Agatha?"

Humming, Lady Danbury pondered the question. "You are no criminal, Violet..." She put her teacup on it's dish. Sitting forward with both hands on her cane, she motioned for Violet to sit on the couch across from her.

Violet sat and smoothed her dress as Lady Danbury openly stared at her. "Violet, do you mean to tell me that you are experiencing a liking of the fairer sex?"

By instinct, Violet opened her mouth to deny such a notion and then swallowed the words before they could escape, and instead answered with a simple "Yes." The woman across from her lent back in consideration. Briefly, they sat in silence.

"You are right. In this country, if you were to even speak of such things, it would be reprehensible by the law. However... in this house, such is not the case," she reached forward and grabbed Violet's hand, "You are no criminal to me, Violet, regardless of what society may say."

Choking on a sob, Violet covered her mouth with her free hand. "Thank you, Agatha. You have no idea how dear you are to me," she sniffled and tried to collect herself, "I was worried you would not find me suitable for your company once I told you."

Releasing her grip on Violet's, Lady Danbury spoke light heartedly "Nonsense. You may worry no more. Now, tell me, who has caught your eye?" Violet chuckled lightly, of course the woman would not be concerned with the controversy of the matter at hand, always more keen to hear the details of romance.

"Eloise's maid, we had to let go of mine, and Miss Y/n replaced her" Her cheeks tinted pink as she continued, "Just last night we had an encounter in the kitchen. I was restless and wandering and there she was. We spoke and it was as if we really saw each other. By the way she looked at me, it was almost as if she could see through me."

"And you are sure she was not looking through your night dress?" Lady Danbury laughed at Violet's Gasp.

"Oh Agatha, you are terrible," Violet swatted at Lady Danbury and they fell into a fit of laughter.

Once they regained composure Lady Danbury wondered out loud, "You seem quite taken with her, and with such haste, how is that possible?" Violet nodded in understanding, she had been wondering the same thing herself.

"I can't be sure, I find myself thinking of her frequently. It has become undeniable. In fact, I find myself concerned with her well being..." Violet looked imploringly at her friend, "Particularly her past."

Narrowing her eyes at Violet's words, Lady Danbury felt a smugness settle within her. She knew that Violet was tempting her with a challenge, and oh, how she loved to play games. But of course, this was mostly to help quell Violet's anxieties, not flex her own societal prowess.

"What do you know of her already"

...

The sun had set in the Ton by the time Violet returned home. The chilled night air prompted the fireplaces to be lit and extra blankets to be spread across beds. Although satisfied with her day and comforted by the support of her friend, Violet was still buzzing with anxious energy.

Knowing she would be tired the next day if she did not seek rest soon, she decided to brave the cold wood floors with bare feet in an effort to get to the study. She would read herself to exhaustion if she had to. Descending the grand stairs she squinted through the darkness, overhearing giggles coming from another corridor. Focusing, she made the voices out to be Hyacinth and Gregory, no doubt snooping through the letters that Colin had sent Anthony about his travels. She smiled softly, and listened to their childish joy, until the sound of the study door creaking open forced her to veer down the opposing hallway.

Colliding with something, she gasped. Strong hands gripped her waist, and they tumbled towards the wall as her own hands landed upon lean shoulders. Y/n pulled Violet flush against her, in an effort to keep them both from falling. With a shaky release of breath and heart beating out of her chest, Violet's eyes flickered across Y/n's face.

As Y/n went to move away, Violet's grip tightened, her fingers flexing into the material of Y/n's uniform as she steadied herself. Her heartbeat had slowed slightly, but not settled as the excitement of their position dawned upon her.

The woman's eyes took in the pink dusting of Violet's cheeks and quickly dilating pupils. Violet's hands shook as she slid them across Y/n's shoulders and toward her neck. With bated breath she waited for a response of any kind. Would Y/n push her off, tell her she was as bad as the Lord she worked for before, and leave the Ton in fear of Violet ruining her? Before her thoughts could spiral anymore, she felt Y/n's hold on her waist loosen and her hands migrated up towards the sides of her breast, stopping before making contact. With the slightest of pressure on her ribcage, she was guided backwards a few inches until she was pressed against the wall.

Shooting forward, she brought their mouths together. Every thing she had imagined in no way measured up to the soft caress of Y/n's lips against her own. With one hand she cradled the side of Y/n's face, smoothing the apple of her cheek with her thumb as she tried to commit the very feel of the woman to her memory. Her other hand grasped at her neck like an anchor.

With greater confidence, Y/n snaked her hand inward and cusped the woman's breast, causing Violet to release a gasp into the kiss. She slowly swiped her tongue across Violet's lower lip and gently prodded into her mouth. Y/n ran her thumb over Violet's raised nipple, feeling it tighten at her ministrations.

Despite the cold night air, Violet's skin was hot to the touch and the all too familiar warmth of arousal grew in her lower belly. Her legs clenched together in need as she tried to relieve the aching. Once Y/n noticed Violet's squirming she broke the kiss and lowered herself slightly to lick and suck at Violet's neck. Perfectly positioned as to not break contact, Y/n dropped her hands to Violet's legs. Through the soft fabric of her nighty, Y/n felt her way from the outside of Violet's leg to the inner crease of where they strongly pressed together. She swiftly parted them with force, filling the space with her own leg. Violet sighed heavily and let her head thud against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. Not allowing the woman a moment of reprieve, Y/n's hands wrapped around her waist and forced her upon her leg. Violet's hips involuntarily bucked at the first contact, and a hearty moan clawed its way out of her throat.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, she dropped her forehead to Y/n's shoulder and breathed heavily. She could feel the slick of her arousal cling to her night dress at the point where Y/n's leg pressed into her. She could hardly believe herself, rutting into the other woman like a wild animal, out in the open, with only the protection of darkness. She flushed at her own indecency. Y/n tugged on her nightgown, causing her breasts to become exposed. Her head shot up as she quickly searched the hall, it was useless, the pitch black of night was thicker than tar. Lips enclosed around her nipple, licking softly at the peak and then tugging it sharply with teeth. She yelped and immediately bit into Y/n's shoulder to quiet herself. Breathing through her nose, she felt Y/n's fingertips drag the bottom of her nightgown up towards her. With great anticipation, she felt Y/n gently remove her leg from between her thighs and continue the slow drag of fabric upwards.

She raised her head and met the other woman's eyes, "Please, touch me, I-" Y/n's hand cupped her radiating sex and she ground the heal of her palm into the Violet's clit and traced the opening of her lips. Not knowing what to do with herself, she laid soft kisses on the column of Y/n throat, mewling slightly as Y/n's fingers entered her wetness. Her eyes shut as Y/n rhythmically entered her, her own clenching creating a delectable drag when Y/n removed her fingers.

"Ohh, please, Y/n please," Violet begged in a whisper. She whimpered as Y/n's pace increased and her fingers started to curl into her as if she were searching for something. And indeed she was, Y/n felt for the spongy texture of her walls and ran her finger tips against it with pressure. Violet nearly choked at the sensation, even with all her experiences with Edmund, she had never felt such delight. Her legs closed, as if she were worried Y/n would suddenly remove herself. Violet's mind became hazy as she lost herself in their love making. She could feel Y/n everywhere, Y/n's mouth had consumed her entirely, her long fingers had graced her insides, and she was sure that the woman had somehow penetrated her mind.

Her hips began to stutter and Y/n could tell she was close. She watched Violet's face contort in pleasure as she played her like an instrument and listened for the beautiful music she emitted. Her gasps and whines were enough encouragement for Y/n to double her efforts and add another finger. Violet's back arched and Y/n could feel her walls quake with her release. Slowing her ministrations, she continued to guide her through the entirety of her completion.

Once she was sure Violet had finished, Y/n gently removed her fingers but kept one hand flush with her still pulsing sex and the other moved hair out of her face. Violet looked at her owlishly, face burning from the activity. She looked something out of the paintings that her and Lady Danbury had par-oozed the day she admitted her desperation for touch; breasts proudly displayed and nipples now raised by the cool air, skin reddened with arousal and hair tousled from the friction of the wall.

"We should go to my room, and talk," Violet offered breathlessly.

...

Back in the safety of her room, Violet offered Y/n a nightgown to change into. Sitting on the bed, she watched as Y/n undressed in front of her. All the bravado she had moments ago vanished, and she sat on her hands to keep herself from reaching out. When the other woman finished changing, Violet opened the bed invitingly, "Since I have no obligations tomorrow and you are the only one permitted to enter my room, you can stay the night and we will be unbothered." She smiled softly and Y/n smiled back.

Her heart fluttered with contentment as Y/n climbed into bed and opened her arms to the other woman. With her head laid on Y/n's chest, Violet released a deep breath as she settled. Her eyes began to close in relaxation until a thought crossed her mind, "was that your first time with a woman?"

"No," Violets chest tightened and her heart picked up as she listened intently, "The last house I worked for, the Lady and I became close..." Their earlier conversation came to the forefront of Violet's mind as this new information clicked into place. It was not a Lord per say who had misused Y/n, but a Lady. A Lady who Y/n undoubtedly got caught with and thus came the termination of her employment.

Her hand went to Y/n's, "It is quite a miracle you are here today," Violet thanked her guardian angels for bringing Y/n safely to her. Of all the things that could have happened to Y/n, for her to only lose a job rather than her head was an act of divine intervention.

"It is, it really is. I heard that the Lord of the house had actually passed recently, and now there are only three people who know this secret, including you and I." Violet hummed, her eyes slipped closed and right before sleep took her an offhanded thought drifted through her mind, she vindictively wished that number would be reduced to two.

...

Violet and Y/n awoke as a knock sounded on Violet's door. Startled, Y/n leapt out of bed, ducked towards the ground and shimmied underneath it. Violet's heart raced as she dawned a robe and opened it just a crack.

Before her stood Hyacinth with a letter in hand, "Mama, you have been asleep all day," she drawled, "I know you haven't been sleeping well, however I figured you should sleep no longer as we have received word," the young girl shoved the letter towards her mother, "that Colin and Penelope will be returning from their honeymoon this afternoon."

"Oh, thank you Hyacinth-"

"And I took it upon myself to invite the Featheringtons over to celebrate their arrival. It is rather perfect timing, Eloise and Francesca are yet to leave so we will have ample conversation. I have alerted the staff of all preparations needed, don't worry a thing Mama," She leaned forward and kissed her mom on the cheek before skipping off. Violet scoffed and closed her door.

"It turns out I do have obligations." The women laughed at Hyacinth's behavior. Y/n got out from under the bed, and immediately started to arrange Violet's outfit for the day.

...

Calling hour arrived and Lady Danbury swiftly made her way through the long halls of the Bridgerton estate. Her heels struck menacingly against the wood floors. The butler guiding her to the drawing room felt as though if he did not keep pace with her, she would strike him with her cane.

“Lady Bridgerton you have a caller, the fine Lady Danbury is here.”

“Let her right in, thank you.” Violet stood from the couch and clasped her hands in front of her. She was sure her friend would have quite the shock when she told her of last night’s tryst with Y/n. The moment Lady Danbury had crossed the threshold, Violet could tell the woman was eager to speak.

“Violet, thank goodness I have caught you alone. I found out about your...friend's previous employment.” Violet cocked her head to the side, she had such a blissful morning with Y/n that she had nearly forgotten about the wild goose chase she had sent Lady Danbury on.

"Oh, what did you discover."

"She was working for the-" a footman cleared his throat as he entered the drawing room.

"My Lady, the Featheringtons have arrived." He announced. Violet nodded and waited for him to exit before resuming the conversation.

"You were saying Agatha?"

"Well that’s just it. The Featheringtons."

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: A Tragic Romance

King: gosh joanne sure has been trending a while on twitter King: like, for almost a week straight Poe: oo Poe: er Poe: that's King: yeah that's not good Poe: that's very bad Poe: i don't think it's healthy Poe: it does things to you

Vladmir Nabokov: ok i got a story Nabokov: but i'm only gonna tell it if you all promise not to be mad at me Poe: we promise Nabokov: you promise? Nabokov: you all have to say it Poe: we all promise King: sure we promise Barker: promise Nabokov: swear i

Vladimir Nabokov: ok this is the story of the guy who raised his own child bride Piers Anthony: why would you say something so controversial and yet so brave

King: wow jeez um Nabokov: but before you all get mad at me Nabokov: keep in mind that the narrator is unreliable King: i dunno this really seems kinda... Nabokov: unreliable, goddamnit! unreliable!

King: wow this story seems pretty out there King: and you endorse this kind of thing? Nabokov: unreliable, dammit! i said unreliable! King: cuz i don't think we can approve of this Nabokov: oh my GOD

Nabokov: you had a baby clown gangbang King: WHOA now you're taking that scene WAY out of context vladimir and you know it

Nabokov: you all can't understand this! this is REAL literature JK Rowling: exactly Nabokov: see? she gets it Rowling: a beautifully tragic love ssstory Nabokov: yes a bea Nabokov: Nabokov: what

Rowling: yeah i thought it was a wonderful love ssstory King: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Rowling: why are you looking at me like that? Rowling: iss it becausse you hate women?

Rowling: i know i know, you're all thinking Rowling: a romance between a middle aged man and a child?? Rowling: but don't worry! Rowling: they're both their assssigned at birth genderss Rowling: sso it'ss all ok

Rowling: humbert humbert ssufferss greatly in the purssuit of romance sso when lolita sstartss looking elssewhere for attention, humbert will carry her off on a desperate cross-country misadventure all in the name of love Rowling: in National Lampoon's Cross State Line Vacation

VC Andrews: i don't think that's much of a romance Rowling: oh yeah??? well what would YOU know? Andrews: funny you should ask Andrews: i do have some ideas about that

VC Andrews: [singing] i have a secret recipe Andrews: concocted with much skill Andrews: and once you've tried my special dish Andrews: you'll Andrews: never Andrews: get Andrews: your Andrews: filllll Andrews: TAKEEEEEE Andrews: ten terrific blood relatives...

Rowling: tell them, vladmir, it's a romance right? Nabokov: no it's about how i heard these scientists taught an ape to draw Rowling: Rowling: Rowling:

Nabokov: ironically the ape only drew the bars of its prison Nabokov: makes you think Poe: i have no sympathy Poe: that ape can rot for all i care Barker: yeah edgar has strong feelings about apes Poe: ROT, i say

[friendlyneighborhoodamara]

Can't sleep so I'm gonna talk about Akane Tendo's reputation among fans. It's no secret I'm an Akane fan, and I'm glad that the fandom seems to be kinder to her today than in the past. In light of this, I'd like to address some of the common arguments people make or used to make against her.

For reference, a significant chunk of the humor in Ranma 1/2 involves Ranma, often intentionally, pissing Akane off, to the point that she hits him really, really hard. This is a pretty common comedic trope in shonen anime prior to like...I wanna say the 2010s? (I never watched Naruto since it looked bad but I am pretty sure that's Sakura and Naruto's dynamic.) Anyways, while I joined the fandom recently, I have learned that when the show came over to America in the early 90s, Akane was SUPER controversial for treating Ranma like this, with her critics calling her a violent domestic abuser and misandrist, and her reputation has only really recovered recently.

Now, if the "girl character beats up boy character in fit of rage" trope is something that isn't your taste in comedy, then it's not your taste in comedy. However, it's important to keep in mind qualifiers for Akane's behavior. Akane at the start of the series has been harassed by boys at her school who want to beat her up and force her to date them, leading to her having a justifiably poor perception of men and boys. Her hating boys and seeing the worst in them is very different from a man hating women due to patriarchal expectations, and even then she treats boys who are nice to her like Ryoga well.

Honestly, the only area where her dislike of boys gets kinda like morally problematic in my view is if you interpret Ranma as a trans girl: while I joked in an earlier post that Akane is a TERF, one could argue that, albeit unintentionally, Akane's negative reaction to seeing Ranma naked in her bathtub (even if accidentally) and then calling him/her a pervert plays on transphobic rhetoric against letting trans women use the women's restrooms like we're supposed to. (Humorously, most of the people mad at Akane seem to be, ah...not exactly fond of trans!Ranma headcanons, but I digress.) If other trans girls or our allies don't find the slapstick funny for that reason, fair enough, but I don't feel bothered by it given how most of the time Ranma gets hit it's for being legitimately rude and again the violence is very unrealistic.

Admittedly, if Ranma 1/2 had a more serious tone and grounded level of violence, Akane hitting Ranma would be abusive. But in the series, martial artists can walk off stuff like being crushed by a boulder, so Akane beating Ranma up by kicking him/her 50 feet into the sky because she thought he/she was trying to feel her up is not so much like domestic abuse and more akin to a wife giving her husband a light dope slap. Remember, much of the violence in this series is basically just that of a Tom and Jerry cartoon, albeit with an early Dragon Ball aesthetic. Furthermore, Ranma - as much as I love him/her as a character - is usually the instigator, with the wiki even having a list of the cruel nicknames he/she gives her, so it's not as if her actions are unwarranted:

There is, per some people, a gendered component to this discussion, that if the genders were flipped, this wouldn't be funny since Ranma doesn't hit Akane. Now, firstly, if you're a man and a 35-year-old anime not having a boy beat up a girl enough is your worst experience with "sexism", well...get over it. Secondly, in terms of wider media, men commit violence against women that is framed for laughs all the time (ex.: Miroku in Inuyasha, another Rumiko Takahashi series, is a male character where his running gag involves him groping women, which is a more realistic form of violence than anything Akane dishes out), so the notion that it's only women who hurt men in media for laughs is untrue. Thirdly, the notion that hitting Ranma is viewed as okay because "he's a boy" is dubious since he does canonically turn into a girl and Akane hits Ranma regardless of gende, and despite his claims to the contrary he/she doesn't really hate being a girl as much as he/she claims. As a concession, I will note that especially in the past some writers can be reluctant to show slapstick against women, but this is more due to internalized misogyny and viewing women as weak and needing protection. Personally, even assuming that Akane was a boy and Ranma was wholly a girl, I'd have no problem with the slapstick since it's clearly goofy and unrealistic.

Anyways, I'd like to conclude by saying (1) I am glad that I joined the fandom at a time when Akane is being perceived more and more fairly as a flawed but generally pretty nice and hilarious character who has a good deal of pathos despite the clearly slapstick-y nature of the series, and (2) thanks for reading this long, very sincere post.

[jam3sacaster]

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on ‘ya.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by my sweet @harveysgirl101 🩷 / A budding pop star already caught in controversy, you reluctantly accept an offer to appear on Declan…

18+ FANFIC / Smut mention, angsty, intense chemistry. Reader character aged at 21. 🫶🏽

“Marvellous. Thank you.” You beam towards the young Corinium producer, sporting the most impressive mullet. Graciously accepting a bubbling champagne flute, you took a large gulp and stared at yourself in the dressing room mirror. Golden tanned skin, peroxide blonde hair preened into tremendous hoops and the most terrifyingly intimidating outfit — a black latex dress that hugged your voluptuous figure, ruby red lipstick and hooped earrings so large they resembled satellite dishes. “An hour ‘till showtime. Take some time to relax.” The young man informed you, to which you took another painful swig of champagne and nodded in response.

-

Confidently striding through Corinium’s orange-adorned hallways, the man that would be tearing you to shreds in approximately fifty-eight minutes turned a corner, completely indulged in his notes of preparation. “Oh Declan, hello.” You articulate, running a hand across the taut rubber of your dress. “My God, it’s not fancy dress, ya’ do know that?” The Irishman sniggered, his gaze not quite meeting yours. Unsurprising, you didn’t find his vitriolic criticism amusing. “I did hope, Mr O’Hara, that tonight’s interview would be one of personal gain, me to clear my name and boost my career and you to boost your… whatever you call this.” You quickly retorted, folding silken arms together across your chest. Declan raised a hazelnut eyebrow — more so in admiration at your counter-attack than vexation.

“My interviews aren’t to boost anyone’s careers, sweetheart. You can take one step out of line, look behind your shoulder and think no one’s watching. But I’ll have seen. And that’s when I strike.” He snapped, pointing a finger at you in an almost accusatory manner. You’re sure that any other individual being reprimanded by Declan in this way would’ve taken a rather harsh gulp of embarrassment, but you were too quick-witted to let it phase you. Instead, you take a hold of his finger, pushing it back towards him. “That’s the talk of a man that’s either not getting any at home, or has a very small penis.” Snickering heartily as you quip.

This one hit close to home — first remark, not second, he can assure you. It had been a few months now since Maud had packed her bags for London. Not that it made much difference. She was too busy pining after Rupert Campbell-Black to notice something as simple as the colour of his socks, let alone to have sex with him. “God, ‘ya are as fuckin’ insufferable as they say ‘ya are.” Declan tuts towards you, bringing his stack of documents to his face and flicking his eyes over a headline. “Excuse me, miss? Makeup are ready for you.” The mulleted producer softly mutters. Presenting him with a gentle nod, you begin to walk past Declan, but stop momentarily, whispering into his ear, “If you are sexually repressed, Mr O’Hara, you know where to find me. I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride.”

-

Nonchalantly peeling a strip of leather from the makeup artists decaying chair, you breathed in the cloying dust of the mattifying powder being swept across your nose. The makeup artist was a dowdy woman — sunflower-yellow skirt clashing with an emerald green jumper. Closing your eyes as she brushed a rather fetching violet eyeshadow across your lids, you heard the door open. A gentle voice exchanged with the artist, and the door promptly shut again. “Thought I’d better get her out of here before ‘ya lamped her. Are ‘ya actually allowed to be on ya’ own with makeup artists anymore?” The irritating Irishman spoke from behind you. Keeping your eyes closed and grunting out a deep exhale, you could only wish you’d have lit a cigarette before round two.

“Are you actually allowed to be on your own with me in here? Don’t think Lord Baddingham would be too pleased at you threatening his guests.” You mutter, opening your eyes only to very quickly light your much-desired cigarette, taking an elongated puff, and clamping your eyes shut again. “Closing ya’ eyes won’t make me go away. I won’t leave ya’ alone.” He speaks again, ignoring your pathetic jibe. “Like an irritating rash.” You retort, mumbling. Declan couldn’t help but smirk. Maud’s insults towards him were cruel — mean-spirited, intended to humiliate him. Yours, however, were different. You came back at him so quickly, and with such vigour, that he felt he had almost met his match.

Stretching his calloused hand toward the door handle, he spun on his heels and paused momentarily. “I don’t have a small cock, by the way.” Declan titters, prompting you to open your eyes and glare at him with huge, glimmering eyes. “Shame. I was hoping a man so intimidatingly sexy would have one downside, at least.” Raising your leg up as you speak, admiring your frighteningly tall stiletto and revealing to Declan your lack of underwear. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on ‘ya.” He huffed, focused entirely on the sight of your exposed cunt. “In the interview… or now?” You tease, standing from your chair and taking another puff of your cigarette. Without looking back, Declan reached behind him to lock the door.

[balkanradfem]

So, if you all remember the broken-bones lady and the horrible male, I still visit them pretty often! The woman is still recovering, and there's a lot of chores she can't do, I come by to do her shopping, cleaning, moving things around, and sometimes meal prep.

However, a week ago when I went I had ended up in an argument with the horrible male. I wanted to write about it, but the subject was so controversial I got scared that half of you would get mad at me, so I gave up on sharing it. But during that argument, I crossed the line of what a woman is allowed to say to a male, and I said something that then let him know I find myself smarter than him (which I do), and this shocked and infuriated him. He started to openly despise me.

Since then he couldn't look at me or talk to me, he would avert his eyes away from me, and sometimes criticize me on completely inane stuff (you're making too much noise putting the dishes away). I didn't mind that he finally openly hates me, because at least that's honest.

However today I went over to clean, and things took a different turn. I happened to miss a spot while cleaning, and the woman told me he demanded for me to come back and clean it – and I did, happily, saying something like 'oh I didn't see that!' while being perfectly friendly and happy to fix it. I was alone in the room with him. He started on me then. He told me I was being careless, doing worse job every time. That this was only one of my many mistakes and she, his wife, was just too polite to call me out on it. But he would call me out on it every time.

I just laughed him off and said something along the lines of 'Yeah the older I am the more I suck at this! :) you can tell me if I do something wrong sure!' because I refuse to be unnerved by the bullshit criticism, I didn't particularly care if I did a bad job because missing a spot on the floor is so non-consequential – and I immediately fixed it.

But I was starting to feel uncomfortable in there, and I noticed he waited to be alone in a room with me in order to start on me, and I thought, I'm gonna snitch on him. I'm gonna subtly tell his wife what he did. And I went to her with a smile saying 'Hey your husband is mad at me because I do such a bad job! He told me I'm getting worse and making so many mistakes, and you're just too polite to say so.' and she was stunned and then told me the part I didn't know – he intentionally left some trash in the corner under the curtain where I wouldn't see it, in order for me to miss it, so he could call me out on it! And I'm realizing then, that this was a setup, he wanted to get a chance to berate me, and knew I would miss that spot – because it's a place where vacuum cleaner can't reach, so I only clean it every other time, and this time I didn't.

She then told me that it's not about me, he's lately short and difficult with everyone, even she is having problems with him. She explained to me that it's not his fault, it's just that he's sick and she doesn't know what to do. She begged me not to be mad at him.

And I reassured her not to worry, stroked her back as she told me teary eyed about how she struggles to deal with him almost every day. I was pained by the fact that this woman is in an abusive marriage right now and the only thing she's worried about is the opinion of outsiders, of me. It was more serious than I thought, I thought he just hated me, but he hated her too. And she was heartbroken. She insisted he used to be a good m*n, that this was not 'the real him'.

I decided to be more cautious, and to consult with her before saying anything to him at any point, because if I set him off, it's likely she'll be paying the price for it. This became a hostage situation so fast! A moment earlier I was just annoyed that he's hateful to me, but now I have to worry about what he's going to do to his own wife if I dare to argue with him.

I'm again, so tired of the world males have built where they can just do this, and I can't do anything to stop it, or to even say what I want to say without worrying what's going to happen next. That's an insane way to be expected to live! I want to move away from this city and live in nature so badly right now, where I don't have to be involved in this kind of horror. Death to all males who take their shit out on their wives.

[mtkay13]

Gonna post TWO hoboxus today because I CAN! (still desperately trying to catch up with my twitter posts LOL help I'm terrible at this)

From a meme based on art by KOTTERI, the author of Veil (among amazing other things). Find them on twitter @_K0TTERl_!

More musing below, as per usual! (Be ready it's a LONG one again)

I really hesitated with how I wanted to do this. The original had this gorgeous red poster that seemed like a perfect fit for WKX:

(@_K0TTERl_)

Either I went for the imagery of ZZS wistfully gazing upon the mysterious and eccentric WKX, which would definitely have been more aesthetic and undeniably fitting, or I went the semi-humorous route of channelling the "WKX fell for that ugly hobo and his gorgeous shoulder blades" meme-ified side of their dynamic.

Well, clearly that's where I ended up going, but I feel like explaining a bit.

For me, this picture was three-folds:

First part is the meme; it's kind of funny, kind of ridiculous, and sets the tone of what TYK starts off as; rather absurd, with its reasonable dose of dark humor, and the (at first seemingly improbable) meeting and love story between a silly dying hobo and a strange, suspicious, hedonistic gentleman. It felt thematically appropriate for TYK to twist the original image and put the obviously uglier one on the poster since TYK relies heavily on genre subversion to begin with.

Secondly, there is WKX. So, controversial opinion (/jk) but I don't think WKX was necessarily convinced or even really thought that ZZS was "a beauty" underneath his alleged mask. It was probably a mix of various feelings and teasing/provoking which lead to this joke. First, everything he expresses throughout the book and in extra 4; the fascination for this man who seemed too hide great strength and was of no known identity--who was probably more than what he seemed.

(I'm gonna push it just a little bit ((but isn't that the fun of literary interpretation)), but the "beauty under the mask" is not only physical. It could be a way to say, I think that beneath your raunchy, ridiculous attitude, beneath your gross appearance, beneath the pretense that you're a nobody, that you're a peasant, you're probably someone of great importance and great accomplishments, someone much stronger than you pretend to be--someone like me, perhaps, even. The shoulder blades references are, besides of course WKX *actually* noticing them, the observation of how ZZS moves, of how agile his body is, etc...)

Anyway-- the entire point of this intro is to say that to me, this isn't actually referring to that whole side of their dynamic (or not entirely), but rather to that passage that I am STILL OBSESSED WITH where Wen Kexing recognizes ZZS just from the way he's sitting in a restaurant, and that makes him feel things not entirely positive:

Zhou Zishu stepped into an inn alone. He chose a seat by a window, ordered a few side dishes and a jug of mulled rice wine, and drank it slowly while soaking in the sunshine. As soon as Wen Kexing walked in, he saw Zhou Zishu from behind. He didn’t know why, but he thought that this view was quite special—he could always pick it out of a crowd. Zhou Zishu did not sit with his back straight. Most of the time, he lounged indolently at an angle that looked exceptionally comfortable. Wen Kexing thought that it seemed as though nothing weighed on him; seeing him was enough to ease the heart. Wen Kexing unconsciously halted his steps. He stared at Zhou Zishu’s relaxed silhouette for a while, with no trace of an expression in his face or eyes. His heart swelled with some strange feeling—strange, in that it was no feeling at all. He felt as though this man was mocking him with this wordless posture; he who rushed around for one thing or another, who was burdened with so many cares, yet obstinately put on a devil-may-care persona. Zhou Xu—as carefree as duckweed, he thought, with a body like willow catkins. In all the world, with its boundless perspectives, where could you find someone who walked their path alone and never allowed anything to trouble them? Yet he was not apathetic—he had his joy, his anger, his sorrow—and they came in a flash as quickly as they went. Within the blink of an eye, he had forgotten it already.

(Tian Ya Ke, chapter 18, TL by Lianzi) (have I quoted this already??? If not I should have I love this passage so much)

AND THEN QUOTING ANOTHER PASSAGE (LOL), TL by me this time:

From the moment he'd noticed his shoulderblades, felt this rush of excitement, to when he'd started liking who Zhou Zishu was, when he'd thought——so this is the Commander of Tian Chuang. Suddenly, he'd felt as if he'd met his other self. Both of them, lone wolves caught in a hunter's trap, struggling for freedom to no avail, until they had resolved to coldly gnawing off their own legs in the end. He'd felt compelled to follow him around, watched him, until he suddenly realised—if Zhou Zishu could live like this, then surely, so could he?

(Full passage in this other post LOL)

So yes, THIS. Those two things. That's it. Need I say more? HAH OF COURSE I DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO (help)

More seriously--the way WKX is captivated by ZZS' apparent carefreeness and freedom, all the different feelings (or absence thereof, as he puts it, which I interpret as so distant from what he's used to feel that it almost feels like nothing at all) is what I was going for here.... By not showing his face at all LMAO

The envy, the frustration--the impression of being mocked, but also the longing, how it inspired him to follow along and try to be free like he was.

-cough- yes, so that was point 2 out of 3.

Now lastly, about ZZS himself and my representation of him as hoboxu. I think (?) I've written enough about him that I think I can keep this succint. I love how priest often makes a point of expliciting, in the book, how he's so often smiling, and how he's always incredibly energetic in the morning, as if the night of pain had never happened. I like to think that hoboxu is both a carricature of a ridiculous character that ZZS has fun embodying---but also a liberated expression of his deeper self.

WKX feels like he's mocking him, but ZZS is also mocking himself relentlessly, when he feels like the outside resembles the inside finally, when he feels ridiculous in these new robes, when he allows himself the most outrageous behavior---and then there's mocking life itself, mocking jianghu, mocking everything that he nonetheless deeply cherishes. It's almost... gently mocking, affectionate mocking of everything because his own life has become a joke yet he's still going to enjoy it to the fullest--drinking to his heart's content, rolling in the mud and visiting touristy sites (or so he intended).

In the end... the world is still in his own hands. He chose everything, chose the way he lived, the way he (would have) died and still has the power to dissappear at will--but he stays. Stays and endures what he pretends annoys him, because he can't help himself, because he's ridiculous and is aware of it and may as well have some fun while being so.

I can't seem to ever have enough of this, of this vibe. I wanted to have him laugh at and with WKX, at and with the people seeing him, at and with himself, at and with the narrative.

SO YEAH HAH THATS HUM THAT'S IT. You know what they say, it's only a fun meme if there's an essay behind it (noone says that help 😭😭😭😭)

I hope you had fun reading it and have a nice weeked 🤪

[pononoin]

style parenting headcanons NOW 🫵

UGAAGH I LOVE THE DOMESTIC STANKY, THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!!

I'm not much for really thinking or sharing my headcanons but here's a few!!!

1. Kyle is called Abba (father/dad in Hebrew) while Stan is called daddy

2. Stan dominates himself and thinks he is the "fun dad" of the two, simply because he is less strict than Kyle on certain things (like allowing the kids to buy the occasional snack or candy when they go shopping)

3. Kyle does not believe he is strict, he is simply more careful and less clueless than Stan in certain things and certainly has more authority and strength in saying "No" or reprimanding the children for some bad action (Stan does not like to scold much)

4. Stan is quite overprotective and is always terrified that the kids will grow up in the surreal hostility of South Park

5. Stan cried both times he first saw the children, both pictures of Stan with the newborns are of him cradling them and his eyes red with tears, he was just so happy and had so many feelings at the same time

6. Sometimes they are the type of parent that when asked a question both respond "I don't know, ask dad/abba" creating an endless loop

7. Kyle realized that he called the kids "bubbies/bubbalah" most of the time without realizing it

8. Stan's biggest fear about becoming a father was that somehow, he would turn into Randy. That's why he always tries twice as hard to be a good father

9. Stan's soft belly is the best place for naps (for everyone, even Kyle) so everyone sleeps snuggled up to him on the couch and Stan loves it, he’s a family size teddy bear!!

10. They both take turns for cooking and washing dirty dishes, Kyle usually uses cookbooks because he gets better at following specific instructions and Stan simply likes to experiment

11. Stan is quite a handyman! Most things in the house were built by Stan or repaired by him (he only gets a little jealous when Kyle calls for outside professionals)

And not to be #controversial but, boymom Kyle and Girldad Stan, thank you 🙏🏻