#I was extremely alone in a lot of my experiences

[brainscrems]

I think saying, “trans men can and do experience male privilege” is an extremely overbroad statement. Self identity does not directly determine one’s own oppression. For example. I’m a bearded butch trans woman who’s not on estrogen in stem. Because of that, and other factors, I simply don’t really experience misogyny bc those around me still read me as male. That is to say that who experiences what oppression is not a simple matter of identity, it is a matter of how society perceives you. Some trans men, such as yourself, experience male privilege, while I know many others that don’t. I experience male privilege as a trans woman, though I also know it is NOT the case in the vast majority of cases. I also know other trans women in my position who do experience quite a lot of misogyny. Likewise, I know plenty of trans men who’ve dealt heavily with misogyny in stem. Privilege is not a cut and dry, “you have it or you don’t”, situation. It exists across a wide spectrum and is certainly not defined by identity. I can say similar thing about my experiences being a white jew who gets hit pretty heavily from white supremacy as hegemony, while still very much having other aspects of white privilege.

If we try and classify privilege as a black and white binary of “x has it, y doesn’t” we will always fail because there are always exceptions and any framework of social change that does not account for the experiences of those people will inevitably leave them behind. Privilege in nearly everything is conditional on two things. The identity category one is perceived as having by others, as well as how well one fits the role assigned. Bringing jewishness into this again as an analogous situation, I can say that the differences in how I’m treated come down not simply to people knowing I’m jewish, but people seeing me as a jew. These are two vastly different things. I can tell white goyim that I’m a jew and they won’t care, because they don’t see a difference. But if I, say, practice my holidays as loudly as they practice theirs, discuss about how being jewish has affected my life in terms of systemic oppression, refuse to celebrate theirs bc I don’t feel like celebrating the holidays of a religion that’s killed uncountable numbers if my people, or do anything else that challenges their perception of me as just another white christian by a different name, all that goes away. Then I’m just another kike.

I’ve had the inverse experience as a trans woman. Where my fellow women experience misogyny from certain people, even ones who gender me correctly, that I don’t. It’s because they may consciously know I’m a woman and change their language, but I don’t hit any of the boxes of woman for them, so I don’t face their misogyny. Any TERFS who might read this and try to use it as an argument can fuck right off. Most trans women get hit as hard by misogyny cis woman do, if not harder due to extra scrutiny. My exception does not demonstrate the rule. My exception is to demonstrate there are no rules at all. That there is no way to categorize who experiences oppression based on their personal identity alone, but we must consider how the world sees us, even against our will, in the equation as well.

things that happened to me when i was a woman in STEM:

an advisor humiliated me in front of an entire lab group because of a call I made in his place when he wouldn't reply to my e-mails for months

he later delegated part of my master's thesis work to a 19-year old male undergrad without my approval

a male scientist at a NASA conference looked me up and down and asked when i was graduating and if i was open to a job at his company. right before inquiring what my ethnicity was because i "looked exotic"

a random male member of the public began talking over me and my female advisor, an oceanographer with a pHD and decades of experience, saying he knew more about oceanography than us

things that have happened to me since becoming a man in STEM:

being asked consistently for advice on projects despite being completely new to a position

male colleagues approaching me to drop candid information regarding our partners / higher ups that I was not privy to before

lenience toward my work in a way I haven't experienced before. incredible understanding when I need to take time off to care for my family.

conference rooms go silent when I start talking. no side chatter. I get a baseline level of attention and focus from people that's very unfamiliar and genuinely difficult for me to wrap my head around.

like. yes some PI's will still be assholes regardless of the gender of their subordinates but, I've lived this transition. misogyny in STEM is killing women's careers, and trans men can and do experience male privilege.

[panicloser]

Something I want to give Shauna credit for is the resilience she had after Jackie died. Like Melissa was right when she said that.

As someone who has a friend that I have know since childhood, I want to say if I was in Shauna's shoes and I lost that Jackie at all out there, let alone in a way where I felt like it was MY fault that I'm never gonna see them again, I would honest to god be like "y'know what, you guys hungry? I volunteer as tribute! Cuz I'm done here clearly 😃". And this happened while she has zero access to any kind of support except for teenagers who don't know how to help and only one authority figure who also doesn't know how to help. So I think she's extremely resilient for not only keeping herself alive after that experience BUT ALSO playing a significant part in helping the entire group stay alive!! Like they trusted with a lot of responsibility. If that was me I would have given the butcher role to someone else or something I would have been so done I would barely care if the whole cabin burned down but she kept doing it!! And let's not forget that she also did all of that while she was PREGNANT which takes a significant physical and emotional toll on a person, like hello??!

And if you wanna argue that she was able to do all that because she's a completely selfish person, even if I agreed, I don't care either way because maybe you need to be a selfish person to survive that. Shauna's very impressive actually, maybe it's just because I can't handle strong emotions of any kind, but I think she's fucking strong as fuck for that

[sideprince]

I resent getting dragged into the discourse but it's wild to me that there are people out there who read the HP books and laud Harry for being brave and having a big heart and redeeming the wizarding world with his unusually great ability to love, yet can't comprehend how he could learn to appreciate Snape's sacrifice.

I'm very specifically thinking of the fact that Harry watches Snape die. Snape, who is lying on the floor, gripping Harry's robes, and whose eyes Harry is looking into and seeing the life leave. I don't understand how people can humanize some fictional characters and treat them as if they were real and completely dehumanize another. Not even for Snape's sake, but for Harry's sake, do these people not understand what it is to watch someone die? What's the expectation, that the Capacity For Love Posterchild protagonist steps out of character and doesn't care about the guy he watches bleed out and die suffering because you, as a reader, don't like him?

Which is it? Does Harry have a huge capacity to love or not? Pick a lane. Either you value this character trait in Harry or you don't. But you have to take or leave everything it comes with, otherwise you're a hypocrite. Or maybe illiterate.

I just don't GET it.

[cravesunconditionallove]

Forgive my rant here, I can get wordy when I'm passionate about a topic :)

[Mild TW here for mentions of institutional abuse and explanations of brainwashing and trauma bonding.]

People talk a lot about trauma bonds and Stockholm Syndrome (which are one in the same), but I'm not sure I've ever seen a truly accurate representation—I talk as a survivor of brainwashing/coercive control and other various flavors of physical/psychological/emotional abuse in an institutional setting, for a year and a half. I became attached to my abuser(s).

Trauma bonding often thrives in situations where you're already isolated, emotionally fragile, and looking for guidance or care. Trauma bonds mimic attachment bonds, but are built on fear, shame, and intermittent positive reinforcement. They can feel as strong or even stronger than healthy bonds because of the emotional extremes involved.

At least in my experience:

You get attached to the people who hurt you, ESPECIALLY if they drop bits of validation or love here and there between the abuse and erosion of your self-confidence and attacks on your self-concept. It's like a lifeline; it's fully intentional. You begin to crave their care, maybe even their abuse, like a drug. Sometimes, you devolve into thinking, "any attention is good attention."

The small crumbs of approval or recognition can feel intensely rewarding in contexts where rejection, humiliation, or criticism is the norm. Their unpredictability keeps you tethered to them, always on your toes, hoping for positive reinforcement.

This is especially strengthened if the person is an authority figure (like my abuser was), in contexts where their approval is quite literally necessary, where you're literally dependent on them for everything—of course you'd want to do anything to make them like you.

You begin to believe them—you DO deserve the pain. You're fundamentally flawed, you're the one in the wrong. You also think that if you could just placate them, they'd stop being so bad to you. If you could just try harder, do it right, finally be what they want, it would be better. You'd do anything to get on their good side. You need it.

It's far from rational, but you have to understand, the brain does a lot of seemingly strange things to cope with traumatic environments. When your brain views the trauma as an existential threat, and you have to choose between staying sane and your identity? Well, there goes your identity.

I can't put a finger on why exactly I wanted my abuser's approval so bad, it was never a single, distinct, or tangible reason. It was and still is very confusing to me. I didn't consciously try to think this way—I just so strongly felt if I could just finally do what she wanted, be the obedient little thing she tried so hard to mold me into (and succeeded), she'd leave me alone (she did not). I started to wish to be punished by her, because if I got punished, in a twisted way it would garner her approval.

Something I also didn't consciously do—but realized later on—is that I put a lot of her into my interrogator character, their similarities are likely due to the fact that Bella's story is basically a bunch of my trauma responses in a trench coat.

My abuser was as evil as one can get without her physically harming another human being. Everything about her just screamed "wrong." Her smiles were predatory, calculated, fake. If you'd sharpened her teeth, it would have fit her character. I half thought that one day she was going to start seeping black ooze, as if her awfulness could reach a point where it breached containment. She was creepy, a sadist, someone who made it her goal to make me miserable. She enjoyed seeing me scared, hurt, begging. She was always so eerily calm, because she had to poise herself as the rational one. Because she was a therapist, she knew well how to weaponize her knowledge to break me. I trusted her, I was fifteen and still naive. Adults know best, right?

She used that trust against me.

It makes me sad to think about it, sometimes. I was not her first victim, nor was I her last. It's been a a good chunk of time since this all originally happened, and I can talk about it now and still feel okay. However, I'm still undoing the damage done, and will be for years to come.

Anyways, I hope this adds a bit of context to the topic of brainwashing/Stockholm Syndrome.

Whumpees do not love their whumpers, they've just developed Stockholm syndrome!

[painfully-unoriginal]

2 this day i still see ppl saying any fan art or even official art w dan genuinely smiling is out of character. u dont kno him like i do

[bpd4bpd]

anyone else's lack of emotional permanence contributes a LOT to their imposter syndrome?? i know its a bit paradoxical since thats literally a symptom of bpd AND adhd but my silly self likes to grasp at any straws i can to "proof" im faking

[te4k3ttle]

Extremely burnt out unable to draw anything when I have both free time and shit ton of ideas hardest battles for the most already tired soldiers

[thalwri]

I HATE YOU, BUT I LOVE YOU!

synopsis: your friends think caleb's got a bit of an obsession over you since he's always by your side. what they don't know is that you're equally as obsessed. and you'll go to very extreme lengths to ensure everyone knows that he is yours.

warnings: porn no plot, heavy smut, shower sex, orgasm denial, inappropriate evol usage, body worship, making a sex tape, biting, marking (with lipstick and a few hickeys), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, needy!caleb, possessive!reader, unhinged!reader, basically, you're matching each others freak. a lot.

wc: 2,4k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“you’re mine, caleb,” your whispers pierced his ears like a sharpened knife– the most stimulating sound he had heard in days. “mine. mine to touch, mine to post, mine to please and be pleased by. mine.”

he could only nod, and so he did. frantically and heated with need for you. for access to adore you. 

you had found him in the shower, muscular back turned to you. he had returned home in silence, almost plagued by his own thoughts. though you were deafened by your own mind too. the only difference was that you were infuriated.

you had seen some of his colleagues post pictures of him with them at his annual dinner with the fleet. the captions were provocative at the least, rumbling with desires to touch him in ways only you could, to have privileges only you owned.

they didn’t know him like you did. they didn’t experience everything you two had gone through together. 

so it was only fair for you to remind him of that fact. and show the world that he was only for you.

“i’ll burn and bury anyone who talks to you or even looks at you.” your eyes trailed down from his eyes to his swollen and bite-bruised lips to his neck adorned with fresh love bites. “i should keep you by my side, yeah?”

“yeah, you should,” caleb could only hold himself from getting giddy by this new sight of dominance. he’d rarely seen you behave this intensely with him and he wasn’t afraid to see more.

your hand gripped his, feeling the instantaneous surge of his evol resonating to you. before the surge could fade, with the flick of a wrist, you forced caleb to his knees. the gravity surrounded him alone to keep him at your feet, at your mercy.

he often got a kick at using his evol on you but for the tables to turn like this? he’d cum on the spot. his cock twitched, reddened and swollen by your refusal to give him the attention he needed.

“c-come on,” a loud whine flowed from the depths of his throat. he had been moaning and whining without you even having to touch him. you were feeding off his delicious noises, feeling as though he was egging you on to paint him in your lipstick kisses.

“please, i won’t even let them near me,” his lips found your thigh, pressing wet breathless kisses onto your skin in worship and reverence. “i’ll push them as far as possible and only open my space to you.”

“yeah?” you kneeled down to straddle him, holding his face in your hands. his eyes were swollen from the tears shed by you teasing him to the point where it hurt so much. he just had to beg for you, grovel, and whine. all of it.

“they’d even see that i’m yours.” he panted, lips curving into that beautiful smile you loved. the same smile you hated to see him give to others. he leaned to kiss your skin, peppering your flesh with light nibbles and bites, marking his affections and desire for you.

“we could record it,” his breathless sighs warmed up your dampened neck. “me declaring my heart is yours and broadcasting it for the world to see.”

a short giggle left your lips before you plopped down on his hips, completely filling yourself with his twitching cock. caleb’s eyes– brimming with tears of impatient need– rolled straight back into his head both agonised and delighted by how concerningly tight your pussy was– almost sucking him of everything he had. 

your hips slowly rocked back and forth allowing your nectar to leak out of you and lubricate him for easier movement between you. though you wouldn’t have had a problem with the roughness. 

“maybe i should take a picture of me riding you.” you deepened your grinding to emphasise your point. “i’ll crop out your face, to protect your reputation of course.”

caleb quickly shook his head in a daze– eyes clouded with lust and excitement. was he enjoying this?

“let– let them. let ‘em see me,” he forced a smile to stretch his swollen lips. that was the only thing keeping him from moaning loud enough for the fleet kilometres above to hear. “let ‘em know how weak you make me.”

the slick wetness from you and the now cold shower water kept his grips on your hips painfully tense to the point of indenting bruises. you could just feel his heavy sacks rubbing against your entrance as you squeezed your walls around his girth. every vein, every throb, every single divine twitch did not go unnoticed. 

it was boiling hot. the shower was off and yet the glass walls got so foggy so quickly. your hips slowly dragged up as you adjusted yourself to bounce on his length before you slowly dropped down and up and down in a broken rhythm. 

you so desperate to chase your high and feel him paint your insides, so horny for caleb that it pissed you off even more. and yet, through all that anger, you couldn’t help but adore and admire him beneath you. he looked so serene, so beautiful. how could you not love him?

feeling his cock effortlessly slide in and out of you hitting those delicious sensitive spots felt like pure ecstasy for you. your ass jiggled and clapped as it bounced, slapping his thighs and huge balls, screaming into the deafening silence of the afternoon. 

you caught your lower lip between your teeth to hold off the overwhelming urge to cum all over him at that very moment. just a bit longer. you had to torture him a little bit longer.

“you’re the only one for me,” caleb whined almost like he read the thought directly from your mind. a wide grin graced your pretty, flushed, cock-addicted face as he repeated himself over and over for you to hear and understand him clearly.

“i’m yours. yours. yours.’m gonna prove it any way you need me to.”

and a devilish idea struck your mind mid-bounce. you paused and slowed your pace to grind on his hips, curling his cock deep into you with no chance of him leaving your tight grip– not to mention your soaked pussy (as per usual) had a death grip on him.

you reached to the abandoned towel outside the shower and pulled out your phone, swiftly opening the camera app. caleb’s eyes slowly widened as he realised exactly what you were doing. he exhaled a laugh in disbelief and intrigue as you set the phone down to show you both in the frame without your faces being exposed. 

your finger hovered over the button to record and your grinds came to a halt. your eyes bore into his with complete sternness. “do you want this?”

he didn’t even hesitate. “yeah. show them who i belong to, baby.”

a ring sounded in the bathroom, and your hips returned to its torturous work. you planted your hands over his plump chest and squeezed to feel that muscular, soft flesh. your thumbs brushed over his nipples as drips of sweat and water pebbled from them, drawing a long moan from his lips.

“f-fuck,” he panted. he’d never experience a feeling like that before. they felt so sensitive and sore and yet the pain translated to pure pleasure by the time it reached his cock. it leaked globs of precum deep within you as your tantalising grinds picked up speed and friction.

your lips found their way to the shell of his ear and a wet swipe of your tongue sent shivers down his spine. you were so dominant today. and he was enjoying perhaps a little too much.

“i want you to be louder,” you hissed, nibbling the soft flesh of his ear lobe. “you know you can be.”

“‘m gonna need you to make things rougher for me,” the soft mounds of your pretty ass were caught in his grip, being fondled and massaged as he egged you on, using his strength to lift you up bit by bit until you could plop back down on his cock.

the mere sound of it made him groan, bowing his head to restrain himself. having his hands so comfy on your ass was divine, such a privilege. he pulled you higher and higher until your moans turned to cries. 

his leaky cockhead continuously pounded your spongy, sensitive point, throwing you into a frenzy. your rhythm became erratic, breath laboured and ragged. lines of red scratches marked his torso, victim of your nails painted the exact same colour as his reddened tip. 

your personal nicknames ran from caleb’s lips in a slur, connecting the syllables as if it were a lengthy poem he was reciting to you. his tongue lulled out, dripping strings of his saliva onto your bare chest, creating a sticky mess on you as your tiddies slapped against each other– colliding and changing shape like a malleable pair of heavenly flesh. he couldn’t keep his eyes off them, calling them his favourite melons in his mind– a perverted thought and description, but that was the least of the nasty thoughts he had of you.

“please– oh my god!” his moans quickly turned into whimpers. you couldn’t help but giggle. he was just too cute. 

his tongue ran up your collarbones to your neck until they tickled the corner of your lips to pull you into a lascivious kiss, tongues swirling and dancing in pursuit of getting closer than their bodies could allow. he was addicted to you. he wasn’t afraid to say it with relentless pride.

to be able to please that sweet cunny of yours with his cock, to be able to love and adore you, to live alongside you, that was all the pleasures he had of being yours. and he refused to trade it for anything else. nobody would ever be worth as much as you were to him.

you are his everything.

caleb swiftly lifted you up into his arms, almost using his evol before he remembered you were being recorded together. you yelped as he swung you both around so that you leaned against the wall, back warmed in place of his position. 

he sat on his knees, still holding you by your hips to align his cockhead with your dripping opening. in tempted arousal, he lifted you up to hook your legs on his shoulders, leaving only your ass and legs in view of the frame and his head completely concealed in between.

his hot tongue swiped up and down your folds, teasing its entrance into your hole. teasing you. he relished in your hitched cries and groans, you cursing him and demanding he stop teasing you. somehow it just got him harder that he already was. 

but because he loved you, he conceded and buried his face into your pussy. his nose nudged and tickled your sensitive bud while his tongue explored the mixed taste of his precum and your sweet nectar all stored in your pussy. the flavours blended perfectly. 

his loud, obnoxious slurps and his head occasionally shaking side to side brought you to a tremble, finally drawing that sweet climax out of you with a cute cry.

“ca– cale– oh fuck!” his name almost slipped out of your lips before you could restrain yourself. caleb moaned into your pussy before quickly pulling away to guide you back down to his hips, instantly dropping you onto his cock.

it slipped in so smoothly yet so roughly, sending every sensory signal in you screaming in alarm. too much, too much, my god, too much. 

caleb gripped your ass, kneading his fingers into your flesh, and pounded his hips right up into you. you hiccuped with each thrust, losing composure and falling deeper and deeper into your cockdrunk daze.

“too- too fast–“

“uh-uh,” he breathlessly moaned in your ear, rolling his hips faster and harder into you, so desperate to fill you with his seed. to claim you as you claim him. “you can take it.”

a deep groan rumbled in you making you grip the base of his neck with your hand, slowly squeezing until he gasped– and yet his psychotically fast pace never faltered. 

“i’m sure you can take– fuck– this– mmh– pussy too, huh?” your walls intuitively tightened around his thick, pistoning cock matching the hold you had on his neck. “this is the only pussy you’d worship, yeah?”

“the– only– one.” he gasped as he choked out his words. you were tempted to call him a good boy. despite the overwhelming entanglement of overstimulation and pure delight that caleb fucking you through and straight past your orgasm gave you, you were just so insatiably greedy for more.

“you wanna cum, yeah?” you crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck. you thought you had begun to taste a new degree of pleasure with caleb in that very position. 

“wanna make you cum again,” he said. a loud smack! resonated as a delicious sting spread around your ass cheek. “mmh, wanna cum in you so fucking bad.”

“then do it.”

and that he did. almost like it was on command– with a final harsh thrust, hot ribbons painted your walls like paint falling right onto the canvas. it was so hot, and creamy that the sting of his heat left you in near shambles.

there was just so much spilling into you that it spurted out of your pussy with each slowing jut of his hips. his mouth mumbled on, rambling i love you, i love you, i love you like a prayer and oath. even as he pulled out, cum still spurted out of his slit, painting the shower walls white with lust and satisfaction while the recording still ran, abandoned by both of you.

“you think you can let those people prance around you while knowing i am all you need?” choked gasps fill the air as your grip on his neck tightens. “no caleb. you don’t have that right.”

he merely nodded with a smile. “ ‘m all yours, my love. my eyes, my heart, my body, and my soul are only for you.”

now, caleb has experienced a great many terrifying things in his lifetime. a great many things. but you? you were an endless galaxy he would spend eternity exploring. all your complexities and charms just waiting for him to perceive. 

your peers had believed he was insane. clingy. obsessed. but they didn’t know you could be much, much, worse. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

a/n: I've been listening to too much Tyler, the Creator. Also, this was inspired by one of @/cruxifixe 's works on tiktok

[helianthus-tarot]

RELATIONSHIP: Your main challenge in forming relationships + advice

This applies to both platonic and romantic relationships. I also included some advice 💗 Keep in mind, it's a spectrum: some of you probably experience these problems only mildly and occasionally, some of you may seriously have these problems, some of you may not have any problems. You can also ask about your person if you want, as in, their challenges in forming relationships.

I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes your challenge in maintaining relationships! There are other 100+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon so definitely check it out! ✨💗❤️

Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here

Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

Like my readings? Tip here!

PILE 1 

Your main challenge in forming relationships and advice: Ace of Pentacles Rx, 10 of Swords, 10 of Wands, 4 of Swords, Death. Justice, The Star. 

I feel like you just... don’t want to form relationships. A lot of you find forming relationships a burden, like something that is more trouble than it’s worth, something that only leads to problems and stress and a lot of work / effort that might go nowhere or that could end up pointless. There is this heavy, jaded, exhausted energy coming from you with regard to relationships. This attitude might have been influenced by your past experiences with people. Some of you have had enough of it. Some of you feel like you have experienced and seen the worst in people, their dark sides and vices, and it just feels all-around burdensome. Because to form relationships, you feel like you have to go through those stages of ascertaining whether you can trust this person or not, what their flaws are and how these might affect you, and so on and so forth. So you just overall feel kinda reluctant to initiate, to bother.   

If you read this reading, then either you’re curious or you do have the desire to form relationships. And if it’s the latter, what makes it difficult for you to form relationships—besides your own reluctance and exhaustion—it's also because you take relationships extremely seriously. You think and consider a lot of things; even before a relationship starts, you have considered how it might end, you have thought about A to Z. Many of you are overthinkers, some of you are just the type of people who take things seriously.

So it's heavy from the very beginning for you, which just adds to the cycle of your avoidance and reluctance in forming relationships. Some of you may also be the one who rejects people before people can reject you; or you reject yourself on behalf of those people (you believing that there’s no way you guys are compatible, so you make that decision alone without the other person’s input and stopping the connection or not being that responsive when people want to form something with you).  

Some of you are reluctant to form relationships because of fear of betrayal and being hurt; there are some kinds of past ghosts that are haunting you here. Some of you restrain from connecting and forming relationships with people because you think your past is simply too heavy to share with people, people wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t be able to connect with you because of it, so you just don’t bother, you keep to yourself. Some of you prefer to watch from the sidelines, observing people and their relationships instead of actively participating. This whole thing kinda makes you feel alone and distant from people. Some of you have gotten used to that solitariness, so you might be okay or you might say you are okay, but the solitariness probably didn’t start by choice. 

The advice for you is to embrace not knowing. It’s not that you shouldn’t take things seriously; some of your principles have value in them, you’re right about some things and you are encouraged to follow your boundaries and your wisdom. But it’s also perhaps better if you let go of that heavy energy from the past that makes you think too hard and too deeply about these things, that makes you worry and try to foresee the possible end of your connections. You are asked to surrender more to the flow of life. Less controlling and more experiencing. If you think your past is simply too heavy for people, let people decide that, they can make their own decision. Relationships require two or more people to work; so do your part, and let them do their part; make your decision and let them make their decision.  

And if they reject you, or if they can’t handle that part of you, if a relationship doesn’t work, learn to trust that Life will lead you somewhere better, to people who can accept you the way you need them to. You may not know who matches you well if you don’t try at all, the Universe may not be able to send the right people to you if you don’t bother at all. So if you want a relationship, put effort into forming them.

Things may not work out, but it doesn’t mean your effort is useless or wasteful, each ‘failure’ or each time things not working out, believe that you are being redirected to a better path forward—further and further.  Sometimes we take detours in life, sometimes we stop by somewhere and meet some people before each of us continues on our journey. Don’t worry too much about being hurt; trust that you are smart enough to discern connections that have value for you and ones that don’t. And trust that you’ll be okay even if it doesn’t turn out the way you initially wanted it to. 

You may want to be balanced in your approach, though. I’m not telling you to throw yourself into a life of a socialite and make a connection with everyone you meet. Justice here feels more deliberate, it is careful, it is principled, it is knowing, it is fair. You know what relationships you like, what can be good for you; those are the relationships that you are encouraged to give a chance to. Be deliberate about it, then let go. Put effort, then surrender and let things flow, let things come to be. Balance. If it doesn’t work out, figure out what went wrong, then try again. Hold the gentle optimism of The Star, its calm openness and trust in the workings of Life in your approach to relationships. 

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What are your main challenges in maintaining relationships? Are there differences? 🤔📝 I also included advice! There are other 100+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon, do check it out! ✨💞

PILE 2 

Your main challenge in forming relationships and advice: 10 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Judgment, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Swords. Strength, King of Pentacles. 

You got three similar cards as the previous pile, so if you’re also attracted to Pile 1, this is probably why. The difference between your pile and the previous pile, is that in your pile, there’s more intention or desire to form relationships. You do want to form relationships. It’s just that, you usually seek to build long-term, secure, significant relationships. There's nothing wrong with that; but in this kind of world where a lot of people have fleeting interactions and behave more like rest stops with each other, it can be difficult for you to form the type of relationships that you want. 

What I meant by ‘rest stops’ is that social interactions and relationships these days are more like you are just stopping at a rest stop before you move on with your journey, instead of building something long-term or lasting. And because you want something of value—something that will stay in your life, an actual relationship instead of just fleeting social interactions or acquaintanceships—there’s this contrast with how some parts of the world behave. 

Which can make you feel a bit alienated. Some of you may feel withdrawn. This is like someone who wants a marriage but they exist in a community that practice casual sex and don't think about marriage at all. I’m not saying either of those is wrong, but they’re just different. There’s this mismatch of needs and goals, and this mismatch leads to your difficulty in forming relationships. Because while you may seek something more lasting with someone, that person may not; regardless of what their true reason is, it can make you feel down about it when you realise they don’t have the same goal and intention.

Some of you may feel depressed, especially if you have put effort into forming and nurturing a relationship, but it’s not being reciprocated, the relationship just doesn’t form, for whatever reason. Some of you may also internalise this as your fault, or your lack of value / worth, or something along these lines; you might have put effort into introspecting as to why it happened to you, and what you did ‘wrong’, what wasn’t enough, what you didn’t understand, etc. This may have kept happening to some of you, despite your effort to form relationships. 

When we look at the advice cards, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You are not doing this wrong. Some of you may come into connections quite intensely, as in, you genuinely seem like you want a connection to stay and you put effort into it right from the very beginning, but this can push away the people who are more comfortable with easy-going interactions and relationships that develop ‘naturally’ (without much effort). I’m not saying your approach is wrong, but your approach may work and may not work with some people. So just keep that in mind. There are specific people who match you, and there are people who don’t. That’s just how it is.  

The cards are telling you to hold on to your principles and your standard, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting long-term relationships that add value in your life, so stand by that desire. Live your life with integrity and by your own principles. But remember to be gentle with yourself if things don’t work out, if you realise the other person doesn't seek the same thing you do; just calmly state your boundary and continue being who you are and don’t internalise that rejection. There’s value in your standard; it works for you, it fulfils you, it keeps you feeling safe and secure, you know what you need, there’s no reason to sacrifice it if you don’t want to, just because people want something more casual and fleeting from you. Keep being who you are, the right people will see that and be drawn to you.

Some of you may want to drop your defence a little though; you may be a bit too strong and intense about seeking what you want, the problem is some of you may have looked down on other people while you do this; as if other people are less or inferior for wanting something more casual or wanting something different. So just be careful of using your pride in your standard as a defence against the negative feelings you feel when people reject you. Because if you come into a situation acting like you’re more high-quality than other people, it doesn’t really make you look good.

Just take it easy, be soft and firm about your needs and desires if people approach you. If people reject you, then take it in stride, don’t lose your cool, and no need to reassert your stance. You know the way some people respond when they feel rejected? For example, they upload a public status vaguely addressing a specific situation / person saying “oh I don’t need low quality connections anyway”. That doesn’t look nice especially when people know they react that way because they feel rejected. Avoid doing things like that. 

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What are your main challenges in maintaining relationships? Are there differences? 🤔📝 I also included advice! There are other 100+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon, do check it out! ✨💞

PILE 3 

Your main challenge in forming relationships and advice: Knight of Pentacles Rx, 4 of Swords Rx, The Hermit, 9 of Pentacles, Queen of Cups. 6 of Pentacles, King of Wands. 

There’s back-and-forth energy here. It feels like a lot of you don’t really know what type of relationships that you want, or you haven’t really decided, or you are confused, or there’s something here that doesn’t feel that grounded and clear and committed. It feels like sometimes you want relationships, sometimes you don’t; sometimes you act like you do welcome relationships into your life, but then you disappear and go off doing who knows what lol.

A lot of you are independent. Some of you are solitary, meaning that you like spending time alone and you are used to spending time alone. You may also give off that vibe, like you don’t need or want relationships. Sometimes, not only you give off that vibe, you act like it, you act in a way that does not help you form relationships with people; for example, you distance yourself, you don’t stop and chat with people, instead you just do your own thing, you interact with people warmly but then you don’t start anything with them anymore for weeks despite meeting each other every day. It feels like that. It feels like sometimes you are there, sometimes you are not, most of the time you are not.  

Some people can sense that you are warm, or you have the ability to give yourself emotionally to other people, that you can interact with people just fine and you can connect with them just fine, but it’s like there’s not much long-term effort being put into it. Some of you don’t try hard to form relationships in your life. Some of you may participate in fleeting social interactions more than you actually put effort into forming long-term connections with people. So naturally it can make it difficult for you to form relationships. Some of you rely on Fate too much, like “eh, if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out”, yet you may have not put much effort to make it work to begin with.

People who chose this pile are probably people who have more acquaintances than actual friendships. Some of you are introvert; you may not socialise much, or you may not even have many acquaintances; the social interactions you have with people are very brief or surface-level. For some of you, there’s emotional connection between you and people you interact with, but at the same time it feels like there’s still a barrier, some kind of distance, some kind of solitariness that is difficult to breach or pierce through for relationships that are more substantial to form and develop. 

For some of you, I think you may also be kinda picky with whom you interact or form relationships. You may choose your friends well; you choose who you want to have more interactions with and with whom you prefer to keep it brief. For some of you, there are a lot of thoughts that you put into it; you just know what type of people you can get along with and who you can’t. You may also have a side to you that is more philosophical and deeper and cerebral, which you don’t often show to people for some reason, despite the fact that this part of you is very integral or important to who you are.

So when you don’t share or show something so integral to your identity or personality, it can make it difficult for you to form lasting emotional connection with another person, simply because they can’t see you for who you are and you end up not feeling like you connect well with them. You may feel like there’s always a part of you that feels distant from people, which people cannot relate to or cannot reach. You want people to reach that part of you but at the same time you may not act like it. 

Advice for you is to decide what type of relationships you want if you haven’t decided yet, be purposeful about this. And once you have decided, seek those out and put effort into them. Grow them. Nurture them. Give to the other person / people. Meet them halfway, don’t leave them hanging. Steer the situation or the connection in the direction where it can grow; for example, this is a simple example, answering their questions in a way that they can comment on your answers instead of just saying “yes” or “no” that can immediately end the conversation.

Make plans with them, offer them something that can allow them to be more integrated or more involved in your life. It’s like playing football; you kick the ball and then they kick the ball back to you. Actively give yourself to the relationships. For those of you who are independent, who are used to living a solitary life; giving yourself to another person regardless whether it’s a friendship or a romantic relationship may be a bit difficult. You have to be involved and be willing to start a give-and-take dynamic with people. You may also need to be more consistent with giving; some of you are quite sporadic in your approach so this may need to change if you want to form relationships.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What are your main challenges in maintaining relationships? Are there differences? 🤔📝 I also included advice! There are other 100+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon, do check it out! ✨💞

PILE 4 

Your main challenge in forming relationships and advice: 7 of Cups Rx, Ace of Cups Rx, The Magician, Strength, Ace of Swords. 3 of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune. 

I don’t think you have problems forming relationships; I think your issue is probably that you are quick to drop relationships the moment they don’t fit your idea, or visualisation, or the moment they don’t look exactly how you want them to look right away. Some of you have high standards, and you seek people who fit these standards exactly the way you want them. Some of you are just waiting for your manifestations, while not interacting meaningfully with anything / anyone else.  

There’s curiosity here; so you have enough openness to interact with people, this can keep conversations going, you may seem or are genuinely interested in the other person. It’s just that you may expect to see the other person’s authentic self quickly through these interactions, and this may not happen, simply because some people take time to open up; so whatever they show you in these moments may not be who they truly are, but you make decisions based on these moments.

A lot of you also probably seek intellectual connections; but again, some people may not be that open that fast, so they may seem intellectually incompatible with you when in reality they may actually be compatible, they just don’t show themselves as early as you do. I’m not saying you are wrong, we should make decisions based on what is clear, however, you may go about this quite fast, like you don’t have much patience to wait and linger and let people unfold. You can move on or just drop people and move to the next interesting person / thing.  

For some of you, you are interested in people as concepts, instead of being interested in the emotional aspect of relationships; people are interesting intellectually to you, some people may pick up on this and may be emotionally restrained as a result; they could feel like you’re treating them like an experiment subject (I’m not saying you do, it’s just that some people may put up some walls when they realise the other person is trying to figure them out without being fully emotionally invested in them). Some of you find it very easy to form relationships, that this kinda makes you slack a bit at times; you don’t put much effort and you don’t care if you lose a connection because you know another opportunity / connection will appear.  

Some of you are interesting people, talented and skilful, you stand out because of your skills and who you are; so you naturally attract people, which adds to this ‘carelessness’ that you have with regard to forming relationships. Others of you use your skills and talents to attract people, you don’t give much of your emotional self to people, you contribute more cerebrally, intellectually; the issue here is relationships may require emotional connection and investment. So while you can form relationship through shared interests at first, it disintegrates right after because you don’t follow it up with much emotional investment. Basically, relationships can form but they don’t properly form, like a shape that comes into being then immediately disintegrates the next second, and repeats. 

Advice for you is to put effort into forming relationships but at the same time, let them develop. There should be balance. Some people take time to unfold; so let them unfold, take it easy, slowly build upon the connection in a grounded and practical way. For example, there’s no need to have a deep conversation right off the bat; you can start with a conversation every few days, and then gradually getting deeper and more frequent. Be patient with the flow, be patient with people, be patient with Life and yourself when things don’t work out exactly the way you want it to be at the time you want it to.

There should be a give and take between you and the other person; there’s something you should contribute and there’s something that they should contribute in building this connection. Make plans with people, include them in your life. For those of you who are just waiting for your manifestations, all I can say is that sometimes other relationships are important too, they can lead you to your manifestations. The thing about people is that they connect you to more people or more opportunities. Manifestations can happen through people, especially if it’s a relationship that you are trying to manifest.     

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What are your main challenges in maintaining relationships? Are there differences? 🤔📝 I also included advice! There are other 100+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon, do check it out! ✨💞

[anniflamma]

AnniFlamma, we all love your fanart and animatics of Epic: The Musical, please don't let a few shitty people demotivate when 100x those people love and adore the stuff you make, along with all other animators!

Stay safe and take care, we will always be here and I can't seem to repeat this enough but we love your art

Thank you and everyone for reaching out to me. I will be honest with you all that what happened did upset me a lot, but I am very lucky to have people to go to for support. I will even blame some of them for making me cry, my friends, I mean, because if I am upset and if someone asks me if I am okay, I just break down. 😅 But I used our little server as a ground to vent, and right now I feel much better now.

But I will still be honest that I meant what I said that my interest in making Epic fan content has reduced a lot. I still love Epic, and I still really want to do the whole Ithaca saga, but I have also realized that posting content about it has caused me to feel anxious.

An example is when I finished The Challenge animatic, I felt an extreme wave of anxiety when I was going to press the upload button. And the worst thing? My anxiety confirmed the fears. I have gotten tiktok comments saying that I am a freak for drawing Penelope nude despite it being in a non-sexual way. Apparently, I have to be constantly reminded that female bodies are icky and the world hates women. Aaaaaaand then to get hit by that TikTok video of thousands of people shitting on me, Duvetbox, Gigi, Mircy, Neal, and so many more…

If you have noticed, I have posted less, all types of content for Epic. I don’t do my headcanons anymore, I never wrote that full review of Epic, I feel less keen on drawing fanart, let alone joking about shipping here online. I remember when I made a joke about shipping Aphrodite and Athea because they were the only female characters interacting with each other (ignoring Hera), and then I took it as a critique that Epic failed the Bechdel test. After that, I got plenty of anonymous messages about how I am an evil person for shipping those two goddesses… Just say that you don’t know what the Bechdel test is and block me... 😑

I also hate how my first negative experience with the Epic fandom was pure homophobia toward my Bible animatics. Like, they used negative language toward gay people to tell me to make Epic content instead. There is this weird obsession where people expect me and other artists to only do one thing, which is Epic, and if we dare to do something else, we get punished or infantilized, like we didn’t have any say when Casper commissioned us for Stories of Styx. Don’t get me started on how fucking awful people were to Casper and Teagan….

I hate how people easily tell others things, only for them to unquestionably believe everything said about me. Like the amount of "Anni made Ody/Circe porn, uwaaaa!!" And then, the moment someone questions them and forces them to realize I never made such a thing, they double down and say that I shouldn't have made Circe nude in the original animatic "cuz female bodies are icky" or the classic "Well, I haven’t seen the porn video, but someone told me it existed, so I’m going to believe it exsits." Like, you could tell these people that the sky is green, and they would believe you.

Then there’s that whole "Anni supports rape" or "Anni felt bad for the suitors and wanted Penelope to get raped" insanity. Those quotes stems from ppl was crashing out when I made a post criticizing Epic’s way of addressing the topic of rape. In that post, I was suggesting that I would like the story better if Odysseus were actually morally ambiguous when killing the suitors. How could anyone even think Ody was in the wrong for killing the suitors because he wanted to protect Penelope? How can he be a monster after that? I don’t know, I support a husband protecting his wife from gang rapists, but I guess that was the worst thing for me to ever say, huh? Like, how dare I criticize their almighty Jorge…

It’s insane that I have an easier time handling hateful Christians compared to TikTok Epic fans. 😅

Oh well... I’ve had so many bad experiences with the TikTok Epic fandom over the past two years. And eventually, you just want to log off.

I’m thinking of stopping posting Epic content at all on TikTok as a first step. If TikTok Epic fans hate my fanart that much, then I’ll do them the favor of never seeing it from my account. I will, however, continue posting my Bible animatics there. And if I continue working on my Hold Them Down animatic and if I ever finish it… I will only be active here on Tumblr and on YouTube.

And so, at this moment, I will take a pause from Epic. It probably won’t be that long because, despite everything, I love that musical. But I also have to remind myself that, despite there being so many negative remarks toward not only me but the other artists, there is a lot of love from you actual fans. I have about 138K subscribers on YouTube. That’s 138K individuals who love my work so much that they want to see more of it. THAT IS TOTALY INSANE! And I will never forget that! And I am so thankful for all of you and your support. Thank you and I love you guys! 💕

I’m also planning on making a better-formulated post about this another day. All of this is just me ranting and want to take a short break, focusing on something else.... Maybe... Venice the musical? 😅

[genderqueerdykes]

if you are a trans man or masc, masculine nonbinary, genderqueer, genderfluid or other gender non conforming identity, masc gay, a bear, a butch, stud, or boi, or other masculine queer person and don't feel welcome in any queer spaces, you're not alone.

the communities both irl and online have become EXTREMELY hostile toward mascs and men to the point of straight up excluding us and changing their wording to justify their violent exclusion. from renaming nonbinary spaces to "femme & them" and "she+" spaces, to telling men & mascs that they would "Scare" the women and "nonbinary" folks just by being there, as if masculinity and manhood are inherently traumatizing to be around.

masculine and male nonbinary folks have it so hard- most nonbinary spaces are almost definitely women's spaces who also conflate womanhood with nonbinaryhood, and often times just view nonbinary people as confused women. we are not inherently traumatizing to be around: masc enbies need places to go. we are still nonbinary and still trans and still queer for fucks' sake

nonbinary has never and will never mean femme or woman-adjacent inherently. nonbinary means what it means: people who don't or refuse to adhere to the gender binary, regardless of what side it is. masculinity is included in this, femininity is not the only way to be nonbinary.

masc queers do not have to bend over backwards to try to be more feminine and thus "less threatening" in order to have places to go. that's dysphoric and just inaccurate to a lot of queer folks' identity and presentation. it blows my mind because it makes no sense, anyway, even within the gay community, hypermasculinity has been present and even sought after by some people who find it very attractive, twunks, hunks, bears... but between the periods in queer history people started viewing masc gay leathermen and kinksters as the ones who were responsible for spreading AIDS and thus removing them from pride parades,

AND the lesbian separatism moment picking up to remove butches & male & masc lesbians from lesbian spaces identity, paving the way for modern rdical femniism, we've only entered a downhill landslide of hating men and mascs and ultimately trying to erase us from the queer community entirely.

the queer community is not the "women & femmes community". the queer experience is broad and vast, it includes a wide variety of masculine and male experiences, as well as genderfluid, multigender, completely ungendered and other gendered experiences. the lesbian, trans, bisexual, nonbinary, gay and general queer communities aren't the "safe place to hide from men & mascs community" like estranged rdfems and terfpilled trans folk like to tell you they are.

this is the QUEER community and it includes ALL forms of queerness, masc, femme, butch, male, neutral, bigender, neutral, and all. he/shes and he/hims and he/theys and he/its and so on are just as much of a part of this communities as she/hers and they/thems. you can't cast a blanket of "inherently abusive" over all men and mascs and one of "inherently abused/incapable of being abusive" over all women and femmes because that just traps you in a fantasy land that doesn't exist AND it prevents mascs and men from getting the help, resources and community they NEED.

men & mascs are hurt and abused by women & femmes every day and we refuse to speak about them because we live under a white cisheteronormal patriarchy and have complaints about how that functions. the complaints are legitimate but assuming that all men and mascs are oppressing all women and femmes and that women can never be oppressive is a false as hell narrative that actively damages people.

enough is enough. this mindset is hurting people. it's leaving masc and male queers to be estranged, harmed and even dead. i care about you if you're being affected by this mentality and these behaviors. you deserve community, safety, and a sense of belonging, you do belong, even if we struggle to form our own spaces due to unjust hatred. we will do our best to band together and keep each other safe. we must

[quarterlifekitty]

About to clean my depression+sickness room(I've been sick since the 28th) and it's got me thinking Thots. How would the boys react to you letting certain things slip while they're on deployment? Maybe because you can't seem to do much without them😗

Gaz mostly feels bad— because he’s left you to be all alone while you’re sick and in your feelings. He wants so bad to be everything you need, but he can’t be due to the nature of his work. So he’ll get a head start on cleaning up while he sends you to shower, just to refresh yourself and decompress. He’ll fix up some water and a snack for you, too.

However bad you think you have let it get… there have been times that Soap has let it get even worse. Like, there was a period in his life where he got a desk from ikea, it was missing a single piece, but instead of going to the store to get a replacement the box just sat against his wall for maybe 3 years. So there’s no judgement from him. He’ll come back, you’ll put your heads together to break down the tasks in bite sized chunks, and everything will be fine.

Ghost can’t bring himself to be upset because even the messy parts of you, of living with you— they just prove how alive you are, to him. When he lived by himself there was hardly any decoration. No messes because he didn’t own enough shit to make a mess with. No place felt lived in. It was sterile. So while he feels bad that you feel bad, he would much rather have your messes than no mess in his life at all.

Price is tending to you first and foremost— especially if you’re ill. He loves you, but he has his doubts that you’ve cared for yourself to his standard (he’s a control freak). So he’ll tuck you up in bed after a bath with lots of drinks to choose from on the bedside table and some medicine before he gets cracking with the cleaning. And because he’s a freak, all that just gives him a power trip and makes him feel great.

Fucked up headcanon time. I think König kinda fucking enjoys cleaning. He just likes to experiment with different methods and different orders of operation to find the most optimal technique and timing. So he really doesn’t mind doing however much cleaning on your behalf— won’t even mention it. To him, you do more than enough just by being around and being yourself.

Nikolai, much like Price, will first set about fussing over you to the extreme before anything else can be done. I also think he has a big enough place, combined with his workload and time spent in the hanger/garage, that he occasionally hires people to clean, maybe once a month or so. So he’s not terribly worried about any mess, just about your wellness.

[hanniebaeee]

Code Love

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!!

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff

Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.

a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭

It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.

He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.

“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”

“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.

God, why was he like this?

That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?

“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”

Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”

You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.

Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.

Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.

---

“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.

Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.

Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”

“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”

“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.

“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”

“You’re hopeless.”

---

The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”

“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.

You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.

When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.

“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.

You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.

Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.

But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.

“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”

“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”

“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.

“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”

---

The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.

But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.

Great. Now you were cold and flustered.

“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.

“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.

He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.

“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.

“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”

“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”

You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?

“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”

“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”

Before he could answer, the door swung open.

“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”

You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.

Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”

“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.

“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.

“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”

“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”

It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.

Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.

You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.

“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”

Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.

You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.

You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.

“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.

You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.

You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.

He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.

---

You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”

He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”

“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.

“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.

He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.

Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.

You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.

You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.

So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.

---

The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.

“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”

You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.

“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.

What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.

Your Jinnie?

Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”

You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.

“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.

You shook your head, refusing to face him.

“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.

“Please don't say that, of course I care-”

“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”

You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.

And then you felt it.

Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”

“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”

“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”

“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”

Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.

He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.

“You... you love me?”

“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.

You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”

His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)

You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.

You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.

His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.

You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".

“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”

The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.

“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.

Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.

“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”

Well, you couldn't agree more.

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. ���Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[birdyisthewordyy]

Hello!!! I've been reading your MW posts lately and I honestly love the way you write. I was wondering if I could make a request on how the crew would react if they received a random tickle attack.

(preferably by the reader)

a/n: hello nonny!! This is sooo sweet thank you so much :D always glad to make people happy with my work!!

Tulpar crew reacting to receiving a random tickle attack

Curly

Let’s be honest

He would be the one tickling you probably

But on the rare occasion you catch him off guard he will bust out laughing

Has the deepest manliest laugh too

Like you’re lowkey giving him goo goo eyes because of how beautiful he sounds

“You little ratbag!!”

Chases you around

The other crew members are like ???

Why are they giggling and chasing each other like little kids

Definitely gets you back

And shows no mercy either

You were weak…

But he will not be

You’re crying by the end of it

Don’t mess with the Curly monster

Jimmy

Oh god

If you can even touch him it’s a good day

Let alone tickle this man

If you by some miracle manage to spring a tickle attack on him he’ll be disgusted let’s be real

“The fuck are you doing? Quit it!!”

He’s actually extremely ticklish though

Has an evil villain laugh

Straight up like “muahahaha”

Hearing him laugh extended your lifespan by 20 years though

Truly healing experience

He will punch you to get you off of him

“Fuck off. Don’t do that again.”

Finds himself smiling after though

He’s not sure why

He hated that

Or did he…..

Daisuke

You and Daisuke already prank each other all the time

You are constantly getting into mischief with each other

So of course you hit him with a tickle attack

Has the goofiest laugh

“HeheheHAUGH HAUGH HAUGH”

Begs for mercy dramatically

You barely even did anything

Extremely ticklish

He will also get you back

Has one of those long sticks with the finger on it

Pokes you with it

Also loves to tickle you just randomly in general

He thinks your laugh is adorable

If you’re not ticklish he’ll still try

He is a man on a mission

Swansea

Swansea?

Ticklish?

Maybe when he was like 20

This old man is too tired to giggle at your antics

“Kid I lost all feeling in my neck when I was 40”

“Then how are you standing?”

“…shut up.”

He will eventually crack and let out a chuckle

Not because it tickles

Because your earnest efforts are cute

Pats your head

“Go run along and do something else, yeah?”

Doesn’t get you back but thinks about it

He likes your laugh a lot

Anya

Please god do not spring it on her

She will scream in terror

If done right she will giggle

And she also has a very funny giggle

Penny from that one scene in TAWOG

Reminds her of when she was a little kid

Used to love being tickled

Would ask her parents to tickle her all the time

She doesn’t want to get you back because “that’d be mean”

She understands other people don’t like it most of the time

Bonus she loves your jokes

Bad jokes in general just make her laugh

“If you can make her laugh and giggle, you can make that booty shake and jiggle”

“HEEEEEELP”

She says help out loud

Me too girl me too

[postmoe]

x You're My Antonym x

Yandere Alhaitham x Reader x Yandere Anaxagoras

no because this was supposed to be a 900 word one shot idea but now it's like 10,000. not really proof read.

power-play, unprofessional behaviour, teacher and student, fem reader, non-con, belittling, coercion

I used this for the interaction where Alhaitham is helping you with practicing your oral.

.

Most people leave the classes by the second term, there's a few reasons that build up over time but, if you asked any of the students who leave it can be narrowed down to one common factor: the teachers.

Alhaitham, the professor of Haravatat. He makes it known that he doesn't want to be here, even though he could leave any time. He says it's up to the students if they want to succeed, only pushing them to show basic etiquette in class. However, his nihilistic nature and harsh grading turns a lot of people away. He's not all that bad, though, he's even stayed behind when you've come after class to ask him questions. Don't even try to bring up work when he's out of the classroom, though.

Anaxagoras, the professor of Nousporist. He is a lot stricter than Alhaitham, and when in the classroom follows closely to the rule, 'Silence is Golden'. You get one warning before you're thrown out of the classroom. This man will question everything, even the philosophy students get fed up with him. Unless you provide 100% evidence, then your argument is void.

You're powering through their courses with a rigorous determination. Haravatat, the study of semiotics, taking sign systems from history to determine anything from anthropological to logical and sociological dimensions. You can piece together the very interesting discovery of ancient human civilisation! Nousporist is a perfect partner to this course, focusing more on experiments and research, seeking to uncover fundamental truths about life and existence through scrupulous scientific inquiry. You can even decipher the world of the Gods!

But holy shit, are you exhausted. You work a late-night shift at a 24/7 convenience store, only to come to school and study your brain to mush with little time to relax. It's an exhausting life, but you think about how it'll all be worth it once you graduate.

When it comes to these classes, you know your grades aren't the highest, perhaps only slightly above average on a good day. So, you rely on being an ideal student in the classroom, getting on the professor's good side by staying out of their way and only participating when necessary.

Except today, you seem to be a little... "Haah," your little squeak of a yawn has everyone looking back at you from your spot in the middle. You didn't mean to, you tried to make it silent. With am apprehensive look, you meet your gaze with a nonchalant Anaxagoras and quietly whisper, "'M sorry."

He seems to think over a response to you, deciding in the end to go back to teaching, probably because you never make a disturbance. You do your best to listen, shaking your head whenever the visage of the whiteboard starts to blur. As you feel your mind drifting off, your arm falling to the desk as it can no longer support your head, you think about how nice Professor Anaxagoras' voice really is. Like an asmr lulling you to sleep.

It doesn't help that his class was at the end of the day, when your exhaustion hits its peak. By the time you open your eyes you notice the low light of the setting sun. Confused, you sit up, your mouth dry and your hair fuzzy. No other students are in the room, leaving you alone with your professor.

At you rising, he gives you some time to collect your bearings before placing his pen down from marking papers, regarding you, "Finally awake, I see. Funny, I didn't think you of all people found my class boring."

Desperately, you lick your lips to dispel any dryness you could, "N-No! I love your class, Professor Anaxagoras, I'm super, extremely, exceedingly sorry!!"

He tilts his head to the side, the default line of his mouth tilting downwards slightly, "I was joking. I've noticed for the past few weeks that you've been getting more and more tired. Is everything okay? Even Alhaitham has expressed his concerns to me, wondering if I was the one putting you through such stress, the lout."

"I wouldn't say lout," a familiar and similarly cool voice speaks from the doorway, "Aggression isn't my usual problem solver."

"Oh? Then perhaps something like 'insipid' or 'sanctimonious' is a better fit."

Alhaitham huffs out the bare minimum of a laugh, "I believe 'sanctimonious' would be better suited to you, Professor Anaxa."

"Anaxagoras."

He turns his attention to you now, walking to the edge of the steps leading up the rows of seats, stopping and crossing his arms over his broad chest, "You've been spacing out more often, and the bags under your eyes are deeper. What's got you so stressed? Is it the covering material?"

Your cheeks gently blossom at being called out, your body shifting in your seat as you avoid eye contact. To have both of your professors worried about you sends a wave of admiration through your heart. Not only are they great (albeit firm) teachers, but, they also care for their students. "I'm really sorry if I've disturbed both of you. I've had to pick up more shifts at work because my rent is increasing so, I haven't had much time to rest."

"You don't live on campus?" Anaxagoras inquires, raising his eyebrow in question.

You shake your head, "I could only afford the starter tuition fees, not the campus bundle. I live in an apartment with cheaper rent. Even as it's going up, it's still below what they charge here."

Alhaitham nods in understanding, "This is one of the most expensive schools, even with government help."

"Yeah, but, I know that's not an excuse. I'll try harder, I promise," you say, gathering your things and packing them in your bag. As you step down to Alhaitham, you pull out a few pieces of paper and hand it to him, "Here are the picture comparisons I got from the museum, Professor."

With that, you leave the room, Anaxa already at Alhaitham's shoulder and peering at the documents. It was you at the Ancient Cultural Museum, comparing your body to humans of the past. You were wearing revealing clothing to get the best out of the angles.

Your thighs squeezed into tight shorts, collating the length of your legs to those of homo floresiensis. Another picture of you with one arm stretched, belly showing in your flimsy singlet, between gigantopithecus blacki and King Kong at 7.6 metres.

Anaxa hums lowly, standing back to eye him, "That's not very professional."

Alhaitham agrees, "I know. It seems more of an 'entertainment show' than a proper museum."

The other professor rolls his eyes, walking back to his desk, "You know what I am talking about. If the directors found out then you'd be in more trouble than just expulsion from the akademia."

He crosses his broad arms over his chest, papers carefully held between his fingers and thumb, "Aren't you a director?"

"You don't seem so worried about me saying anything."

"Please, I know you favour her as well. I'm not the only creep here."

At this, Anaxa smiles snidely, "Ah, well, then my ultimatum won't be so shocking. As long as you're willing to share your favourite student's 'private' homework, then I'm more than happy to keep this on the - how is it? - DL."

"Pfft," he looks down to one of the pictures, your foot side-by-side to the re-imagined soles of a slave from Ancient Egypt. Next to it, your pretty-painted toes idly sit by chipped nails. Did you paint your toes just for this photoshoot? Cute girl. "Would you like to take pictures now or shall I photocopy them at home?"

...

You didn't think your grades were that bad... Over the past couple of weeks, both Professor Anaxagoras and Professor Alhaitham have been wanting to keep you after class to help you catch up, even offering to invite you into their homes during the days they weren't working.

It seems you should have taken up on their offers as you review over your marks from the most recent short exam. Most of the students around you were already groaning, but, you usually at least make it slightly above average. This is a fail by all means.

You make eye contact with your professor and immediately look away. You can already tell Anaxa will want to see you after class, you don't need to acknowledge it right now. With a sigh, you check the time, seeing it's two more minutes until the end of class, and thirty minutes before you start your shift.

As soon as the clock ticks, he dismisses everyone. You obediently wait until everyone leaves before making your way to the front. He has his arms crossed, looking down on you like the peasant you are. You think he's going to be mad, instead, he only sighs like a let-down parent, "I thought you said you were going to be better."

There's nothing else you can say that's not repeating what you've already told him, so you stick with a non-committed, "I'm sorry."

"If you were truly sorry then you'd be taking up my offer to personally help you."

"I can't miss work," you say, exhausted from both the excessive hours and constant arguments with not one, but two, of your teachers. Your eyes shift to the clock above him, "In fact, I have to go-"

Heavy footsteps come through the door, a purposeful interruption made by Alhaitham. He takes his place beside you, his hand coming to your shoulder and squeezing, "You're going to call in sick, your grades depend on it."

You furrow your eyebrows, mouth opening to interject but Anaxa won't let you, "I agree. Any costs lost will be made up for by myself and Mr. Alhaitham here."

A sputtering sound passes your lips before you can say, "No?? I can't just do that-"

"As long as we don't tell anyone then I don't see why not," Anaxa says, somewhat smug, "I am one of the directors, after all, it's a lot easier for me to hide things."

You look to Alhaitham, "You could lose your job."

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"Well, no-"

"Perfect, let's go to Mr. Anaxa's-"

"Anaxagoras."

"- house and get dinner on the way."

He takes your bag for you, the two of them walking towards the door and ignoring any more protests from you. Anaxa brushes back his ponytail, "Of course it's my house. Why, is yours not good enough?"

"Yours is bigger," Alhaitham shrugs, "At least, wasn't that your argument?"

"I suppose," he acknowledges, and it occurs to you that they've been conniving with themselves about this without your awareness.

It then hits you that you have heard rumours about his 'home' and were sure they were true, "Don't you live on campus?"

He turns his head over his shoulder and smirks, "For those long nights of research, I do have quite the homely office. However, I also own a comfortable space elsewhere."

...

Your boss sent you a frowny face text before accepting your sudden timetable shift. 'A mean case of gastro; couldn't even sit through class.'

Chinese was a tasty and easy take away dinner, getting lots of different boxes to share between the three of you. Then, you started heading into the main city, the bright lights a treat for your eyes as your usual apartment was shadowed by night with only a flickering lamp outside.

You drive into an underground car park, following diligently as you pile into a spacious elevator. He presses a number that says '74' and swipes a key card, your heart beats wilder at the prospect of a beautiful, night view.

Higher and higher you climb, until the doors open to a high-ceiling, expansive apartment. Alhaitham and Anaxa make their way to the lounge room area, placing their books and bags on a large, round, low table between the couch and the tv. From the table, Anaxa picks up a remote, and instead of pointing it to the television like you assumed, he pushes a button and the darkness of the windows seem to panel into a clear view of the city lights.

You walk over in awe, mouth agape, dinner hanging from your hands and forgotten about as you stare into the distance. Few buildings rivalled the height you were on, the entire city on display for your eyes alone. It felt surreal to be so high, so above everyone. Looking down, you saw specks of cars and people, none the wiser to your presence.

It's only when the bags are taken do you look away. Anaxa has slipped the handles over his fingers, while Alhaitham rummages the kitchen for cutlery and plates. You watch them work together, "Have you been here before, Professor Alhaitham?"

He returns with stacked plates and an arrangement of cutlery, setting them down and shaking his head, "No, I haven't."

Anaxa huffs, taking a seat on the floor, "Oh, really? I couldn't tell with how easily you made yourself at home."

Sitting opposite him, Alhaitham returns, "I'm just trying to help. Don't worry, I'll let you do all the washing up."

Feeling a little awkward, you sit at what could be considered the 'end' of the circular table, between your two professors. You take out the most recent material, opening your books and pencil case, preparing any text books, all while they serve up piles of food onto plates.

. You've barely touched your dinner, your head hurting as you go over the highlighted material in the book. "A-Are you sure we spoke about this in class? I was sure we left on page 107."

Alhaitham covers the words with his palm, making you take a break from the confusing sentences and looking up at him. Instantly, your head feels less strained from staring so long at the bright, white pages. He waits until you relax your shoulders, "We finished on 117. You just fell asleep at 107."

On the other side of you, Anaxa is going over your notes, circling the more important information and adding comments of his own. You hear him sigh and cross out something entirely, shifting your eyes to see a whole paragraph angrily scribbled out. He mutters, "When did I ever say this? Now you're making things up."

Your pencil drops from your fingers as you gape at him, "No???" You look closer to see what he was talking about, "We did talk about it, you were bringing up something that was like 'Nature's Endless Experiment', I remember those words."

Alhaitham raised his hand, "That was my class, it was a small off-topic discussion."

A long groan is all that comes from you, your forehead hitting the table as you collapse. You don't move when you feel them moving away the excessive books and pens you've littered the area with, opting to just rest your weary mind.

You tilt your head and grab your fork, poking at the rice and mumbling, "Why are you even having off-topic discussions? Don't you hate going over time..."

You squint when he juts a finger to your forehead, "Don't blame others for your mistakes."

Anaxa clears his throat, leaning back and closing his eye as he relaxes, "I think we have done enough tonight. You're at least up to date with the current material so you should be good for class again on Monday."

"Thank you so much," you say, taking a mouthful of food, "I really appreciate this, you're both the best professors ever. Could I please get the address so I can figure out a way home?"

You whimper when Professor Anaxagoras taps you on the head with the end of a wooden ruler, "Do not talk with your mouth full. Do I have to teach you basic life skills on top of everything else?"

Alhaitham scoots closer, taking the fork from your hand and impaling a soy-soaked bean before placing it to your lips, "At this point we may as well adopt you."

You bite the bean and yank your head away, eating the vegetable, "I am an adult, you know."

"Could've fooled me." They both say, at the same time, their monotonous tones making you feel like you've just stepped into an alternate reality.

Rolling your eyes, you take the fork back before your professor can get any more food on it, "So, about me getting home-"

Anaxa cuts in, standing up and taking his plate to the kitchen, "It's fine, you can stay here tonight."

"What? No, I can't do that," you gasp, eyeing him to see if this was another one of his 'jokes'.

He rinses the plate and then puts it in the dishwasher, "Do you have prior obligations at home? A pet, perhaps."

You snort, "As if I could afford that."

"Then I don't see the issue," he states, leaning against the island counter and folding his arms, "I'll get your bedroom sorted. We can study again tomorrow."

Incredulously, you look to Alhaitham, "Can you please talk some sense into him?"

He shrugs once again, lazily looking over to him, "I don't see an issue. Comfortable bed, good sleep. You could use the rest."

"I have to work tomorrow."

Of course, Anaxa has an excuse for that, "Gastro symptoms can last up to 72 hours. Just tell them you're still not well."

"But-"

"I'd just do as he says," Alhaitham starts collecting the rest of your stationary and packs it all away, placing the bag beside you, "Wouldn't you rather finally have a moment to sleep in and rejuvenate?"

It really does sound nice... Not having to set an alarm, to have a shower that runs just hot water and not switching to cold every other minute. You wonder how soft the sheets are, and maybe, just maybe, he has a mattress cover for extra comfort?

Finally, you relent, shoulders sagging, "I guess... If you're okay with it- ouch!"

Anaxa had made his way over during your consideration, now flicking you in the forehead and gazing down in annoyance, "I wouldn't have pushed it if I wasn't sure."

Rubbing your now sore spot, you look to Alhaitham and ask, "Are you staying, too?"

He shakes his head, "No, I have to get home. I'll come back tomorrow with lunch, I doubt Professor Anaxa has any food here."

"Just non-perishables," he replies, eye twitching at the disrespect from his colleague, "Now, get out of my house."

As he stands, he places his hand on your head and ruffles your hair, "At least he nice with you. See you tomorrow."

You bid your goodbyes, watching as he leaves down the elevator. Anaxa collects the remaining dishes, and you move to help but he stops you, "It's fine, you finish up. He's just too lazy to do anything."

It's all too easy to oblige, now that you weren't focused on studying anymore, your stomach has the stage for attention. As you consume your meal, you wonder to their likeness and how familiar they are with each other, "Are you and Professor Alhaitham good friends, Professor Anaxagoras?"

He huffs at the thought, returning with a fresh glass of water for you both and sitting down, "Our courses align somewhat and we're in the same wing. We've only really started talking more since you've been involved."

There's a happy feeling to think you might be the reason for a blooming friendship. You hold your head up proudly, "Maybe me being bad right now isn't such a bad thing? Once I leave, you guys might be besties!"

You watch his eyes lower to the table, mouth quirking downwards. It's only a moment later that he replies over the rim of his cup, "I highly doubt it. Neither of us have much of a reason to interact."

It's not something you push, if it happens it happens, and if not well, no skin off your back.

The shower is absolutely divine, the pressure perfect and the steam filling up the bathroom before being sent to through the vent was much nicer than being suffocated in your tiny apartment; you could only shower with the door open to let it out. Your professor generously lends you a shirt to wear to bed, the material certainly something fancy and comfortable. Ugh, don't even get you started on the bed, the king-sized mattress giving you ample room to roll about and the pillows delightfully suffocating you.

You were so comfortable from the night that you didn't wake up until you heard the murmurs of Alhaitham in the home. Sleepily and clumsily, you rush out of the room to show that you're awake, feeling bad for sleeping in so late. Your hair is a messy, you know that, fingers tearing away the worst of the knots. You don't focus on your exposed legs, the cheeks of your arse hanging out, you just wipe the sleep from your eyes and stare at them blearily.

They go silent, letting you apologise, calming your anxiety. You needed the rest, they don't mind. With a smile, you tell them you're going to get dressed and brush your teeth, leaving the two men alone.

As they look to each other, Anaxa smiles and holds his hands out innocently, "I didn't have any larger shirts."

It's not true, they both know that. Alhaitham replies honestly, "I'm not complaining."

...

"Do I have to stand here like this?" You ask, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling of being on display before your professor. Alhaitham was sitting nonchalantly on the chair, leaning back with his legs crossed and one arm over the backrest, holding a copy of your oral.

Both of your professors have said that dressing nicer would help with confidence and motivation. They also made an offhanded comment about seeing you something in an outfit more girly, as it would be such a difference. You decided to give it a shot, the cute, ruffled skirt and white blouse had heads turning, probably because you normally go for comfort when it comes to studying.

You were so close that the tip of his shoe is lightly grazing the underside of your skirt. He raises an eyebrow, silently questioning what you meant. You shift again, holding your papers tighter, "When we're presenting, we're not normally this close and..." and you think he can see up your skirt if he gets any lower on the chair.

Alhaitham holds his hand out as if providing evidence, "I have to make it uneasy somehow. Presenting to an entire room is one thing, in front of me alone is hardly scary. By providing such close proximity, it makes your overthink. It's also working."

"R-Right," you bring the papers back to your front, ignoring the way his gentle kicking was moving your clothes. You take a deep breath continue, "In more simple terms, we can look to smoke as an example-"

"-Eye contact," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him, "You will lose points if you stare down the whole time."

Gods, this really is embarrassing. You make sure to only look at your paper sparingly, "Smoke is the written word, an utterance, for a sign of fire. Though looking into the object, it is best thought as whatever is being signified, the object to which the written word is attached to - the fire being indicated by the smoke. Then, there's the interpretant, wAh!"

You step back suddenly, face red as you use one hand to hold your skirt down. He had suddenly kicked hard, your skirt flying up and showing off your girly panties with a tiny bow on the front. "Not that I'm one to talk, but, your monologuing is dragging on."

He's not going to acknowledge that? Is he embarrassed too? Apparently not since he reaches forward and tugs you so that your standing with one of his knees between your thighs. Your eyes shift to the doors, half expecting it to fling open, "Wh-what're you doing...?"

"Spicing things up. How am I meant to grade you if I'm falling asleep through the whole thing? Keep talking."

The lump in your throat is swallowed down. Your hands start to shake a bit at the way his thumbs slowly circle the jut of your hips. "The inerp-interpretant - haa, w-wait!"

You're cut off by his knees rolling up and into your pussy, igniting a throbbing in your clit at the motion. His grip is tight, you can't step away. You think to yell but how humiliating would it be to have someone walk in on the teacher's pet being tended to by their admired professor. The grip on your hips is also painful, would he hurt you more if you made a sound?

He's so focused on rolling his knee into you that he isn't even looking at your face. You tentatively reach out, tapping his shoulder, "P-Professor, this is really inappropriate."

Now, he darts his eyes to yours, tilting his head to the side, "Oh? You come to my classroom wearing a skirt so small, and now it's inappropriate?"

Your cheeks redden at him turning it on you and you tug at the bottom to try and cover more of your skin, which only drags his attention back to your plump thighs and what's in between, "The lady at the store said this was super girly. You and Professor Anaxagoras said- Ah!"

His large palm had slapped against your left butt cheek, fingers grabbing moulding your flesh beneath the skirt, "What have we said about pushing the blame onto others? In the end of the day, you chose to comply." Alhaitham leans in, inhaling your scent, the light and sweet perfume you had sprayed so many hours before, "And what a good girl you are for doing so."

You squeal as he pushes you to your knees, his foot pressing against your crotch and one of his hands gathering up what he can of your hair and holding you in place. Scared, doe-like eyes gaze up at him, your papers crinkled in your hands, "I don't understand..." He's never acted like this, he was always so kind and helping towards you.

Dread fills you when he starts to grope his growing cock, he watches your expression with an intense interest, "I think... we can change the parameters of your oral since you're struggling so much. Why don't we try something more practical?"

Trying to keep your composure, you flatten the papers beneath you as you witness him manoeuvre his pants to free his cock. It springs forth and your breathing goes faster, tears finally collecting in your eyes, begging to be let go, "I-I don't know how to do this, either."

Surely he sees how distraught you are. Surely he relents at your naivete over this.

He doesn't.

He brings you forwards and pushes your cheek against the hot skin of his cock. Alhaitham smiles down at you, a wicked glint in his eyes, "Is that so? Well, luckily you have your favourite professor here to teach you." His legs spread a little wider, allowing more room for your head to rest in the groove of his thigh and dick, "Let's start by giving it some gentle kisses. Just like you would a lover."

Are you really going to do this? What else can you do, though, he has you by a stronghold. When he pushes you against his shaft, you finally comply, though you barely pucker your lips. It was more of a pathetic touch, eyes averted to the side since closing them only stains the picture of his member in your mind.

"Hmm, I won't be too harsh since it's your first time. Why don't we try with your tongue out? Lick it, melt the outside with your saliva, soften it up so you can swallow it good," he orders, holding the side steady so you can lick him easier.

He moves your head by your hair, forcing you to move your tongue up and down the length. You groan in disgust when he makes you pay attention to the head, his precum that had pearled on the top now spreading on your taste buds. At your little noise, he pushes the toes of his shoe against your sex, still clothed, and moves it slowly in an up-down motion.

A low whistle leaves him at your defiant gaze, mouth blocked by the tip of his cock, eyes glaring up. "I'm more into obedient students but," he pauses to lick his lips, "I don't mind this side of you either."

Alhaitham allows you to pull away, gasping for a breath of fresh air and not one that's tainted by the heady smell of his cock. You push against the edge of the seat but he won't let you go farther, yanking you back into submission. More tears now stream down your face, angry and hurt, "Please, I don't want to do this anymore."

Now masturbating in front of you, he hums a little sigh of pleasure, "Don't you know the saying? 'The bell doesn't release you, I do'. You don't get to leave my classroom until I say you can." You cry as his hand releases your hair and slips his fingers through the strands, now holding the back of your head still so he can angle his cock to your lips, "If you bite me, I'll get you pregnant."

The shock of his threat is enough to keep you incapacitated until he reaches the back of your throat. Immediately, you hold his thighs tight, fingers digging into his pants while he moves your fair from your face so he can get a better visage of you choking on his cock. You make pitiable gagging sounds, feeling his long dick slide back and forth on your tongue, the muscle having no idea what to do as pulling back choked your more but laying flat made you taste him worse.

"Fffuuck," he hisses, and it's the first time you've heard him swear. The schlicking sound of his cock in your mouth was so loud, such a turn on for him. You're whining from the ache of his girth after a while, coughing whenever he gave you the mildest of breaks. He would switch it up sometimes, aiming for the inside of your cheek just so he could watch the bulge of his penis in your mouth, saliva and precum pouring from your lips like the fountain of a whore. Back down to the back of your throat he goes, holding there until your flailing stilled, visage going white at the edges. A second later and he pulls out once more, gently caressing your cheeks and squishing them as he coos, "Good fucking girl. Better at using your head for this than study. This is the last stretch."

It hurt your heart to hear that, even from the man who is assaulting you now. You've spent so much time, money, effort, and so much more on trying to be the best you can. All of it was worth something, and now, it feels like it's reduced to nothing. Being told by your professor who had been teaching you for the better part of a year... You're past your refund date.

He's moving with an animalistic jolt of his hips, hardly separating from your mouth. His breathing is harder, faster, matching the pace he uses in your throat. You're scrunching your eyes shut, holding your breath, ignoring the way his hand won't stop patting back your hair until he's cumming load after load down your restricting throat. Alhaitham makes sure to burn this memory into his retina, thumb wiping at the tears in the corner of your eye, "Good girl... Good girl, (Y/n). Swallow it, for your professor."

You can't contain it all, the remnants of his semen dripping from your mouth as it comes back up. When he eventually removes his softening cock from your mouth, you retch and couch what little you couldn't swallow. Alhaitham is kind enough to offer his water bottle, and you're not proud enough to say no.

Except, as you reach for the plastic, he suddenly pulls away and grabs your wrist. The bottle is between his knees so he can hold you tenderly, kissing you with a lustful passion. It's only when he pulls away does he give you the water bottle.

You're too busy to even think about what he's doing, kneeling in a puddle of the mess created, letting the water flow down your front. The tinkering of metal is heard, you think he's doing up his pants.

You're wrong.

Once you finally finish the bottle, he leaves you no time to react and pulls your arms behind your back, securing the with his belt. If there's one thing you couldn't say about Alhaitham, it's that he's unfit. The man trains, and you suppose for someone who has had to track the desert and tackle forests for his job, you'd have to have a good physique. Struggling is useless, you only gasp in confusion and exhaustion, "W-Wait, what are you doing? I did what you wanted!"

His face is back to it's nonchalant self, cheeks showing minimal sign of the event that just occurred. You watch in horror as he undoes his green necktie, slipping it over his head before properly untying it, "I got a good idea of how you perform an oral. Now, it's my time. How are you going to learn if your professor doesn't demonstrate?"

"Hold on!" You kick, his arms hooking under your knees and lifting you up to carry you to his desk. Once he's laid you upon it, he yanks you forward so he can makeshift the tie into a gag for you. You shake your head in any direction, "No, stop! I don't want that-"

Of course, you wouldn't get what you wanted. It's secure enough, your arms successfully restrained. His desk chair is a lot nicer, bigger, comfier, and higher. When he sits, he's at the perfect height to drape your legs over his shoulders and breathe on your dampened panties. You make eye contact with him, unable to kick him effectively to stop, pleading with your eyes despite it being no use earlier.

He gives you a poor attempt at a smile, slipping your pretty, bow adorned panties down your legs, ducking under them and plucking them from your ankle. Your professor makes a show of pocketing them for later. The way his eyes devour the sight of your pussy has you cringing in on yourself, always been self-conscious of this intimate part of you.

Alhaitham seems to have a different opinion, no look of disgust, only impatient desire. "So beautiful, so natural," he moans into your thigh, kissing you tenderly before licking a hot, long stripe from your small taint, over your labia, across your clit and the top of your slit. It felt surreal, your cunny clenching in unwanted desire.

Fractured moans and sounds slip past the gag, fingers clenching and releasing with every jolt of stimulation. You wonder if he's practiced before, watched a tutorial, or if you're just that uncultured that this feels too good to be happening on your poor slit. His tongue is slow and savouring, lightly entering your hole before twirling back and around the outside of your lips. One of his hands, that have been holding your thighs tightly to his head, move to gently tickle the entrance of your vagina so he can focus on suckling and playing with your budding clit.

You're so dazed, eyes blearily looking to the high ceiling as you have nothing else to focus on but the delightful tingle in your belly. A heavy breath comes from Alhaitham, the man gazing you with heavy, lidded eyes to see your expression. Drool and cum still trickle from the corner of your lips, a drying trail down your collar bone and staining your blouse. His other hand is moving to his cock now, the slow, clicking sound making you lazily move your eyes to see what he was up to now. He smiles at you, kissing your engorged sex, "Truly a masterpiece to be studied. I could draw these wonderful sounds out of you all day."

His hand and mouth switch up, his thumb now taking your slick clit and swiping over it in ever-changing movements. Now, his mouth was back to making out with your labia, tongue swirling at the opening of your pussy and stimulating barely a centimetre in your walls. It's a teasing motion that feels gratifying when he delves his tongue deeper and harder into you. You moan lengthily, arching your hips into his mouth and fingers. He waits, teasing you again, only pushing into your clit when his tongue makes for that intrusive movement. He only does it a few more times until he's open mouth tongue-fucking you through your climax, pussy gripping him and hips suffocating him as tears streak down your face from the pleasure.

It was too much, too good, too stressful to even think about as you ride out your orgasm on your professor's face. He's in no hurry to leave you, taking his time to lap up your creamy ejaculate, hand hitting harder against his navel until he's pulling back, standing, and cumming all over your wet and exposed cunt, watching your body jerk from the sudden hit of fluid on your sensitive parts, even getting on your skirt and blouse. You're still teary eyes and vulnerable when he takes out his phone to snap a few pictures, hand slowly easing his cock down, "I've never seen anything so beautiful. You'll be fine if I keep these for me, right?"

You don't make a move to acknowledge him, 'letting' him take photos isn't the right, though you weren't making an effort to roll off the table either. Once he's done, he lifts you up, sitting on the desk and holding you with his arm steady around your back. He's showing you something on his phone; the pictures he just snapped.

A low chuckle comes from him when you move your head to the side to not see them, eyes slamming shut. He does something, and then the next time you open your eyes, there's a chat with Professor Anaxa and your photos in the message bubble, waiting to be sent. Wide eyes look to Alhaitham, shaking your head erratically. He hums in thought, "Then you'll be good, right? You wouldn't want such a renowned man to know what you look like defiled and sex-satisfied. Get what I'm saying?"

Of course, you nod. It already feel painful to have one person you looked up to do this, you don't want to extend that disgust onto someone else, especially your Nousporist professor. To have to look him in the eye after knowing he knows what your lower half looks like, what your post-orgasm face looks like, what you being covered in cum looks like.

"Perfect," he puts his phone in his pocket and unties the gag in your mouth, spittle and drool trailing away as he pulls it out. Next, he unlatches the belt and replaces it back around his waist. You sit quietly on the desk, letting him do what he needs to do, clean up the mess you both created, feed you water because even if you could take it yourself, you wouldn't. He swings your bag over his shoulder and loops his arm through yours, "Let's get you home, I'll drive you."

It's silent, save for the humming of the vehicle, he doesn't even turn the radio on but you're savouring the silence. You don't want to hear songs about sex, or rock 'n roll, or love stories, you just want to watch the sun set and the street lights turn on in the quiet of your mind.

Alhaitham pulls up the gutter of your apartment, reaching to place your bag in your lap and patting your hair, "Get a good sleep. We can talk more about your passing grades another day."

You could lash out at him, scream and shout and then run into your home and lock the door. Maybe throw a punch or two. Ah, but that would also be considered being bad, probably, and then those pictures go everywhere and... You're too exhausted to do anything anyway. You just unclip your belt and leave.

After spending a lot of time at Professor Anaxa's house, using hot water and getting a good diet, you really do lament the times you go home. Especially now, when you wish for scalding hot water and all you can sit in is the shitty pressure of 'just warm'. Well, you do like the smallness of it all, little spaces where you can curl up and pretend you don't exist.

...

4 days pass where you've been sick and away from classes. Funnily enough, Alhaitham hasn't tried to get your attention. There have, however, been a few attempts to reach out from Professor Anaxagoras. You sent a professional email detailing you weren't well, only missing one day where you couldn't be bothered to bring up the email tab and copy your message.

He texts you again today, and you finally eat something more than the crust of bread. You're nibbling some biscuit you had in the cupboard when your phone vibrates:

Professor Anaxagoras: Are you free today? You should come over. If you're sick, it's fine, I don't mind risking my health.

Maybe... Maybe it wouldn't be bad to see him. You could talk to him, and maybe you'll feel better having someone you trust to be around, maybe you'll confess everything and ask for advice, maybe you'll have a breakdown- maybe, maybe maybe maybe maybe:

Professor Anaxagoras: (Y/n), what's going on?

Okay. You trust him, he's been a great mentor to you, and you need to shower and get out of the house. Besides, this biscuits are stale. You reply:

You: Good morning, Professor Anaxagoras. Will it be just us there?

He replies immediately:

Professor Anaxagoras: Yes, just you and I. Would you like me to invite Professor Alhaitham?

You: No... I'd prefer it to be just us, thanks.

Professor Anaxagoras: Shall I pick you up in half an hour?

You: That would be helpful, thank you.

He gives you a time and you react to it, leaving your position leaning on the counter and making your way to the bathroom. You really need to scrub the dead skin off your body, you should feel better once you get dressed and ready.

. The car ride today was a lot nicer than the previous one, specifically because it wasn't with your abuser. But, also, being in the sun and having the radio on low, Professor Anaxa absentmindedly telling you about classes and some of the students being ridiculously stupid. He relaxes his shoulders when you crack a smile.

It must be obvious you're not sick. You look sickly, sure, but that goes without saying when you spend four days lying in the same position without food or sunlight. You wish you could've found your lip balm before you left, cracked lips dry from dehydration.

Stepping into his apartment is like a breath of fresh air. It's bright, clean, open, and you feel like you can breathe again. Things fall into place like your study days, slipping your shoes off at the door, bringing your bag to the low, lounge room table, and then awkwardly standing there until he tells you what to do next.

Today, he brings over a cup of water for you both and motions for you to take a seat on the couch. You do, Anaxa sitting beside you with just enough space so he can have his body turned to you. He holds the glass with two hands, looking to the water in deep thought before finally making eye contact, "I must admit, my main reason for bringing you here is because I am worried about your absence. At first I thought perhaps your illness wasn't being taken care of properly. However, when you asked for it to be just us... Has something happened between you and Alhaitham?"

Ah, he's so smart. Of course he is, he's one of the smartest people in the world. No one leaves for four days, not after all the hard work you've been putting into this, and then asks to be alone out of the blue; especially since it was obvious you admired both of your professors equally.

Admired, being the key word.

But Professor Anaxa here would be different than the Professor Anaxa you had in your head on the day of the incident. At that time, you could only think of him looking down on you, seeing you as less of a scholar and more of a common whore. You didn't dress girly today, aiming for comfortable pants, a t-shirt and a jumper for the comfort of the long sleeves. Telling him will be okay, he won't think you're asking for attention. You can't make eye contact now, so you relent with looking at a frayed strand on the cushion of the couch, "Has Alhaitham said anything to you?"

He lets out an airy laugh, "No prefix to his name? My, it must be bad. No, I haven't heard much from him, only that he received the same email as I."

You nod to that, not surprised that he wouldn't own up to such a thing, which only proves how much worse it is since he knows it's just that bad. "Well, five days ago, he offered to help me practice my oral skills..."

Anaxa waits patiently for you say your piece, and you only make it to the skirt flip from his foot before you suddenly hiccup from sudden tears. You didn't even think you were about to cry, it was so random that you were surprised. He stands then, making his way to the kitchen, "I think this is a conversation best had over a warm drink. What would you like, sweetheart?"

It is nicer to cradle something warm as you explain stuff. You find it difficult to go into detail, briefing a lot of it to 'his foot pressed here' and 'he kissed me with tongue'. He went down on you, masturbated and *insert a hand flick here* on you, he forced you to use your mouth on him. It was out of whack, but it made sense, you got what you wanted out.

By the end of it, your speech was slow and your eyes were tired from crying. He pulls you in to lean your head on his shoulder, caressing your back in a hug, "That arsehole. He didn't say anything to me about it."

"I don't know what to do..." You admit, nuzzling into his shoulder, eyes closing and you falling deeper into his embrace.

He hushes you, his other hand coming to sweetly stroke your head, "Leave it all to me now, love. I'll take care of that brute."

How embarrassing you feel, to unload all of this onto him and fall asleep in his arms.

.

"I thought we agreed ..... wait until she finishes the year?"

"..... too long, besides you ..... set up."

When you awaken next, you hear two sets of voices coming into your hearing, a small crack in the door making it easier for your hazy mind to make out. One was Professor Anaxa, the other was definitely Alhaitham. You wonder if he showed up randomly, Anaxa trying to kick him out for you, then it would be best if you hid yourself until he's gone.

Except, as you try to pull your arms towards you to help yourself up, you notice that they only go so far before being halted beside your head. Feeling takes its time to return, basic motor function even longer as you finally lift yourself into a sitting position and see that your wrists are parallel, facing inwards, cuffed by a thick, black, padded cuffs with a thin, black box tucked underneath for a key. A long chain trails above the headboard and into the mouth of a roaring, lion head - peering underneath shows it can be lessened and tightened at will.

Betrayal is the worst feeling, or perhaps the grief of losing the person you thought you knew. You've had to experience it twice in one week now, and it seems you're the only one mourning the loss of your relationships. They both enter the room, not shocked at you being awake and chained up, just neutral like it's another day in class.

Alhaitham is the first to speak to you, "How're you feeling?"

You obviously ignore him, looking to his companion for answers, "Did you drug me? While I was trusting you no less!" Not that it would make drugging you any better, though it does sound worse somehow.

Anaxa pinches the bridge of his nose, as if this is an inconvenience for him, "It wasn't supposed to go this way. If someone kept it in his pants, then you would have actually had a chance to finish the year. Instead, you're doting haravatat professor over here let his dick lead."

Alhaitham chortles, coming to stand beside him, "You certainly went silent about it when you say the pictures. Don't think I didn't notice the stiffy in your jeans."

"Even so," he turns to him, angrily, "You should have told me sooner, instead I had to take drastic action on the spot."

His hands motion to you, chained up to the bed. You flex your toes, the drug still taking its time to leave your system, "But why do any of this? I thought you said I was a good student."

Anaxa sits on the edge of the bed, as though being closer to you will help you ease your anxieties, "Yes, you are. I am still hopeful you will join me on exhibitions and such in the future. For now, however, you still need a bit of... training."

"Training?"

"Well, you're obviously going to run to the police if we let you go," Alhaitham says, matter-of-fact, "And you're dreams of running your own crew are really cute. It's just, Anaxa and I, we think you'd be better suited as an assistant or motivational support. Something closer to us."

You can't believe your ears, "I would have been honoured to work with either of you - with both of you! There was no need to go to this length."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alhaitham shakes his head, walking around the bed and dividing your attention, taking a seat on the other side. You couldn't move either way, both men an equal distance currently. He slides his hand across the covers and to your thigh, no amount of shifting able to escape his grippy hand, "We see how you look at us, like a fatherly mentor. Is it so bad you're someone we want to fuck? You'd never spread these pretty legs otherwise."

The disgust rolls off you in waves. Looking to Anaxa only confirms what he says, the man leaning over to push your hair from your face and relaxing his hand on the top of your head, "Really, it's an honour. I wouldn't put in so much risk for just any person. And we'll give you a much better life."

You shake his hand off of you, "I didn't work this hard to be kidnapped." With a little less aggression, you take a deep breath and try and a more practical approach, "Professor Anaxagoras, Professor Alhaitham, I think we all may have come to some confusion and misunderstanding."

Alhaitham purses his lips, pulling his hand away and saying after a moment of contemplation, "You should really try her throat. It's nice and tight; warm too."

"You-"

"Yes," Anaxa agrees to his insinuation, "It seems just going straight for it is the best course of action. Show her how serious we are rather than let her think she has any other choices." He then glares towards the other, "I get to use her pussy first. You had your fun, now it's my turn to choose."

Your teeth feel like they were about to crack with how hard you were gritting them, "You fucking bastards-!"

"Fine with me," Alhaitham shrugs, and the get to work stripping your flailing body. He holds you up after peeling your shirt above your head and leaving it to hand on the chain, unclasping your bra and holding your torso down by the waist while Anaxa easily slips your pants and underwear off.

You squeal when Alhaitham runs a finger over your nipple, the hardened peak sensitive to the airy room and new touch. Anaxa kneels between your thighs, gripping them hard to gain your attention, "Hey, focus on me now. It's my time."

The foreplay is nothing short of ruined, though it's to be assumed the main goal right now was your obedience and defeat. His fingers tentatively glide along your slit, testing your reactions and wetness before spreading your lips apart with his pointer and ring finger, using his middle to slide through to your clit. You bite your lip, mouth twitching and body going still.

"That's it," he practically purrs, being more playful and fluid with his movements, "Good girl. Spread your legs a little wider for me, now."

You attempt the opposite, going to slam your thighs closed yet there was no point as he easily kept them open with his own. Alhaitham clicks his tongue beside you, "Naughty, naughty. You're lucky we don't have our tools with us, perhaps a nice spanking with a ruler, to the back of your thighs, will keep you in check."

Your lips part with a silent exhale as Anaxa enters his fingers inside you, scissoring your cunt with a slow speed, pushing in all sorts of directions to find your best spots. Your voice is quiet, though no less dripping with hatred, "What do you expect... I hate you."

"Don't be like that," Anaxa coos, adding a third finger as he undoes his shirt with his other hand, "Or do, you'll change your perspective eventually."

Alhaitham begins to relieve himself of his clothing as well, "If there's one thing he's good at, it's debates."

"I'm good at a lot of things," he retorts, pulling his fingers out and removing his pants now. His cock was already hard and leaking, the veins more prominent than Alhaitham's and his tip weeping more precum as well. It only helped enhance his own lubricant, his fingers toying with the head to gather and schlick it down his shaft, licking his lips as he eyed you like a good meal, "You should find this more than satisfactory as well."

You were too preoccupied with his display that by the time Alhaitham garnered your attention again, he was already naked and holding his dick out for you to swallow. His other hand slides through the tresses of your hair, the familiar feeling of that alone sending your heart and breathing into haywire. He taps the wet head to your sealed lips, smiling snidely down at you, "Welcome back~"

His thumb slips behind your cheeks, to the back of your teeth and prying them open. Between your legs, Anaxa is beginning his push into you, one hand circling your clit and the other squishing and rolling the fat of your waist to stabilise himself and keep him grounded from thrusting into you. You're not strong enough to stop either of them, eventually Alhaitham enters your mouth again, and Anaxa bottoms out, deep inside you, falling forward and kissing tenderly between your breasts.

His hand on your waist slides over your stomach and to one of your mounds of flesh, massaging the breast as he groans, "Fuck, absolutely heavenly. If divinity existed then, I would consider you to be part of it."

You couldn't retort if you wanted to, Alhaitham taking his time to touch the knob of his cock to every part of your mouth and leaving his taste. He shallowly thrusts, Anaxa now suckling your tit as though goading something to come out from it, his pathetic humping only an appetiser as he allows you to adjust. Teeth lightly bite at your breasts, fingers pinching your clit and making you wince around Alhaitham's deepening cock.

Anaxa pops! off your nipple, sitting up and holding your hips at an elevated angle over his own, sliding out delightfully to start a steady, ongoing pace of his cock kissing your insides. Both of you roll your eyes, and you wish it didn't feel as good as he was making it, his hearty moans low and tantalising, "Such a beautiful girl. Could fuck this pussy every day for the rest of my life. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Your throat tightens around Alhaitham, noises being pushed thrust out of you with every push. Alhaitham caresses your cheeks, one of his palms soothingly trailing to your neck to feel the indent of his dick in your throat, "She absolutely would. Hungry for knowledge and cock, isn't that right?"

Anaxa chuckles lowly, lifting one of your legs to get a better, deeper angle, "Been thinking about how to get you sitting in my lectures, my cum pooling on the seat below as you try to keep it hidden from the other students."

Alhaitham tackles onto that, pace quickening as he chases his high down your throat, "To send you to school every day, nice and full, thanking your favourite professor with a kiss on the cheek and a good fuck."

"Who're you calling favourite?" Anaxa chides, rolling his hips in a way that catches your clit, an elongated moan being pulled lasciviously from deep within you. He laughs, single eye tauntingly gazing at the other, "From the sounds of that, it's me."

Your trembling knees and jolting hips grab their attention, Alhaitham lovingly wiping away a stray tear of pleasure, "Then perhaps you would like to make her cum? She does oh, so tighten perfectly in all the right ways."

It's no use to hide your reactions, your moans and the clicking of saliva and cum covered sex just too much to keep anything hidden. Your bouncing breasts are adding to the pressure, the movement salacious, holes filled with cock and cum, and Anaxa was right. Fuck, he feels so good inside you that it kills you to admit it. Why couldn't they be more rough, torturous, hurt you in a way more physical to meet on par with the mental torment.

"Gonna cum?"

Gonna cum... Gonna cum... Fuck, you're about to lose yourself on your professor's cock and there's no way to stop it. You suck in, your pussy clenching and milking, your mouth guzzling and tongue lapping to move around the object stuffing and trying to suffocate you. Hands roam all over your body, 'good girl' and 'pretty girl' and all sorts of praise being directed at you as you orgasm.

It's enough to tip them, the familiar feeling and taste of Alhaitham emptying his balls down your mouth. It was new to feel Anaxa, a gushing of cum being pressed so deep inside you that you'd be right to think he's trying to breed you.

Alhaitham eventually leaves your mouth, now feeling cold without him, though the oxygen to your brain makes your head spin. He's gentle to lay you down, head rolling to the side as you breathe heavily. You whine at the sensitive feeling of Anaxa pulling out of you, the feeling of liquid dripping down your sex an interesting sensation. Your pussy unwillingly clenches, pushing more of his ejaculate out of you.

Anaxa clicks his tongue disappointedly, "Not yet, keep it in a little longer, don't be so ungrateful." He fingers come to push it back in, holding them to the entrance to block any more leakage.

Once you finally get your breath back, you haphazardly shake your arms to bring attention to your cuffs, "Un...tie me..."

"Are you going to be good? Won't try and fight us?" Anaxa inquires, tickling his fingers of his other hand along your exposed stomach, bringing goosebumps all over your skin.

You close your eyes, more tears trickling down your cheeks, mixing with the cum and spit you couldn't swallow down, "I want to go home..."

He sighs, disheartened by your answer, "That's incorrect. Perhaps we should try... A new angle. What do you think, Professor Alhaitham?"

He grins wryly at him, "I hear DVP is pretty persuasive." At your lack of reaction, he whispers, "Double vagina penetration."

Your lips tremble, wobbling as you shake your head and sob, "Please no, no more."

Anaxa removes his fingers, idly holding up the slick digits to the light so he can inspect them. He then makes a show of puttling them in his mouth, sucking them clean with his eye closed as if putting together the notes of flavour. His fingers are clean when he pulls them out, "You can do more. If you can handle our lectures back-to-back, then you can take us both. Think of this as a particularly vigorous study session."

"And the only way to get better is to study, right?" Alhaitham sits you up, leaning you against his chest. His fingers go back to your puffy pussy, playing lightly with your slick, "Our good girl is a perfect student, after all."

Your body shakes violently beneath them.

...

The chain on your ankle clinks with every step, the heavy cuff thankfully not so tight to cut into your skin. You were wearing a long nightgown, long sleeves to keep you warm, though the fabric itself wasn't so thick.

Anaxa sipped comfortably at his drink, clicking through the photos of the house he wanted to show you, "50 acres, absolute isolation, I'm thinking we knock out a few walls and build it up how we want. What do you think?"

You're exhausted, you can't stand another punishment if you don't play along. Why can't he just let you sleep? It's already 1am, he needs to get up for class tomorrow, and you... You just want him to leave so you can have the house to yourself. "It looks good."

"You'll get to go outside," he says, voice lighter at the prospect, "With precautions, of course. But being seen won't be an issue."

There's trees around the fields, a lake off one of the yards. An indoor pool, a plethora of rooms, too. It seems like the perfect place for them both to get some alone time with you when they want. You nod, "That would be nice."

He hums over the rim of his mug, eyeing you from the corner of his gaze. After a second, he places his mug down and pulls you into his lap, planting loving kisses up and down your neck, "Good. You can show Alhaitham when he comes over tomorrow."

Your heart skips a beat, though you try not to show it, there's no doubt he can sense your unease, "O-Oh. I wasn't aware he would be here."

"Mm," he moves your face towards him, hand petting up and down your thigh from below your nightie, "He wants you to go over essays with him, you should enjoy the topics." A sweet kiss to your lips, and you lightly pucker back to imitate a response. Thankfully, he accepts it, sliding you off his lap and bopping your bum with the palm of his hand, "Off to bed, now. I'll be in shortly."

You don't need to be told twice, turning on your heels and mumbling a barely audible, "G'night."