#but are they fully aware of how that power imbalance can come of as is my question

[lover-of-mine]

I can't find the post you mentioned it in, but I swear you have brought up the power imbalance and age difference with Tommy in Canon calling him kid. If that wasn't you, sorry for wasting time. But I was curious about your thoughts on something.

I'm a believer that the last scene wasn't supposed to be there. The last one was the medal scene, and you know that would have still worked with him coming back next season. I think it was added for extra ick because everyone on the other side just skipped over "kid".

The thing is, it's established that Buck is the kid.

BObby, well we now know he thinks of him as a son. But since season 1 he routinely calls him and only him kid.

Athena obviously has maternal feelings for him.

Hen was his older sister before the real one came. She continues to do this with him even with Maddie.

Maddie.. Well she's a combination of Hen and Athena.

Chim. Older brother before becoming it. Who yes routinely referred to him as kid.

Even to Carla, he's Buckaroo. Heck, the inmates that kidnapped him. He called him kid. Kid is basically established lore to how he's viewed. And yes, they chose to have Tommy say that, and yes, it means something to me, especially when you through the put of place Daddy joke in.

I did mention it, quite a few times actually, but the way you phrased this made me think about the beginning of Buck and Abby actually. You made it click why the joke bothers me so much, because the thing is, the whole age difference was a thing that was made into a joke of sorts with Abby in the beginning, but it never happens in front of Buck or directly from Abby. Carla is in the background calling Buck a boytoy and Abby a cougar, and it's supposed to be cute that Abby wants the hot firefighter who happens to be 16 years younger than her. But Abby is the main character, Buck exists to serve a purpose for her in s1, so he's isolated from the age difference comments, even though Buck keeps giving this boyish energy. Buck very much is the baby of the group. But when you think about Abby, Abby is conflicted by the age difference even though she ends up asking Buck out, so even though the age thing could be a problem, it's not what's actually exacerbating a power imbalance, the thing there is that Buck is more in it than Abby, the age there is not a deciding factor. But when you look at Tommy, the way he calls Buck kid, the way he, in a sense, is making decisions about what he thinks Buck is feeling, like kissing Buck out of nowhere or deciding Buck is not ready by himself and leaving him in the curb, a daddy kink joke directed a Buck as Buck opens up about his issues, ends up being dismissive in a, (I don't wanna say disturbing because it doesn't go that far, but my English is failing me and that's the only word I can think of) it's more than unsettling but it's not quite disturbing, but it leaves a weird taste in my mouth because Buck is never taken seriously, and he wants to be taken seriously so badly he ends up trying too hard and that just makes him crash harder, and, as someone who knows Buck and didn't see enough effort in establishing Tommy as someone who truly cares about him, the "God, I hope so" kinda sounds like he just wants to take advantage of that eagarness Buck has and that's not it. Like, it's so not it. And you may be right to some degree, we did see behind-the-scenes stuff with Lou in the hospital that didn't make the episode, so they made a choice to have that dinner happen that way. But the question is, do they know that joke could be received like that, or did they just think that would be a funny thing to throw in there no one would look at twice? Because the thing is, I don't like Tommy and it got to a point where I'm looking for things to hate, so I look at that in the worst way possible, but if we are assuming intention of creeping people out, we can't exist in a plane where everything about Tommy will be instantly received poorly by everyone, because the joke landed. It's only a problem when you think about it and it was placed there as a throwaway comment. Because, Buck and Abby, it's never supposed to come out as weird, even though Abby used her job to get Buck's number and Buck is still living in a frathouse, so are they trying to make Tommy seem as weird as he comes off to us or are we interpreting things in the worst possible way? There's a balance there that I can't seem to find yet, because the show didn't build enough of the relationship for me to look at it objectively and know.

[anantaru]

WORKING OVERTIME — WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis. fucking your boss is not to be taken serious, correct?

cw. boss! wriothesley x employee! reader, slight mention of power imbalance, office sex, fem! reader

this is no serious matter. snap out of it.

this is sex, nothing more and nothing less. you can view it as releasing stored steam with your, well, boss.

wriothesley wasn't always the kindest boss to you, for whatever reason you might add. he could be severely strict and serious and couldn't stop pointing out mistakes, especially yours.

come a little closer now because there's a rumor going around— but some believe he does it on purpose to you, only when it's you and it doesn't matter how good you finish your tasks, he's very much aware of the fact that it gets you going.

it riles you up and makes you wet whenever he's rough with you.

alas, no matter his searing kisses that brand into your skin and practically scream you're mine, the candid words of endearment that drop from his lips like sticky honey on ones hands, the heavy look in his eyes whenever he exhales from his mouth upon pushing inside, admiring your face and calling you beautiful in his mind, this moment means nothing at all.

it's not real. it cannot happen.

it's sex, that's what it was, good fucking sex.

once, twice, thrice, endless— each thrust hits your nerves and spill everywhere, your bare breasts long since shown to him as his balls repeatedly smack against your ass. he's vicious— a duke in charge of everything and he breathes so heavenly when you squeeze around his shaft and let him feel for a moment, let him forget his duties just for once.

one warm palm twists around your breast and tugs on your nipple hard— call it a silent reminder, an aggressive prompting of why the duke was your boss and that you're under him.

in every way imaginable.

another reason as to why he didn't find it necessary to discard of his clothes other than hastily tugging his pants down to his knees, fully dressed while you're all naked for him to indulge in.

this is why he's in control and you aren't. remember your place.

a delicious roll of hips bounces your breasts up and down as your legs tighten around his waist, his leaky tip nudging deep against your sweetest spot with sweat making itself visible at his chiseled chest as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts until you cry out in heavenly screams, pathetic cries and fuck, how good it felt to be practically tossed back and forth against a desk, impaled by a thick cock like his.

no matter which words you'd attempt to use to describe your filthy sounds, be it wailing or screaming and even whining out his name, wriothesley makes it sure to add a hidden promise between every single thrust that he'll make you cum even better than last time, and he's allowed to cum inside, correct?

hey, but again, this is nothing. nothing at all.

a galvanizing memory, call it a photograph or a printed picture prettily put in a golden frame, a delicious scene that the duke will take and put inside the most important parts in his brain, so he'll never forget and can always use such memories to make himself feel good whenever you aren't there.

until he never searches for those fantasies again, until he's fucked you out of his system and the creaks of the wooden desk screeching against the cold floor would cease to exist.

wriothesley leans against your body shaking on top of the cold desk, a distant roughness towering on top of his voice as you cry out one more wail of his name, the sticky feeling of his chest pressing against you being the least of your worries as he attempts to kiss you when you messily lick across his jaw instead, bypassing the kiss wriothesley wanted, no, needed to give you.

no kisses allowed, that was the deal, right? yet he still tries it. every damn time.

this is nothing. it's a helping hand for when either of you was too frustrated to concentrate on work, a willing hand and a willing cock, a hidden favour from employer to employee.

it's nothing with an explanation required, nothing that needs a specific name nor was it important enough to be called anything at all, because while you sure knew what it was, he knows what it's not.

you see, wriothesley wants more, he wants this. he wants you.

not only your addicting cunt sucking him in but he wants you to kiss him just kiss me already damn just do it please.

just once.

he drags his teeth against his bottom lip in agony and jerks his hips further into your squishy cunt, grunting at the throbs and shocks of arousal tensing from your walls and branding into his aching shaft.

but don't forget wriothesley was in control.

wait, was he? he won't risk it. he knows he can't. you're his employee.

because he knows it's not serious. he knows he's not that weak to fall for someone.

he cannot start having a crush on you, in fact, it was only possible to start from the beginning and not when you're already heads over heels for somebody— at last, breaching the line of a healthy work relationship between boss and employee.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[writingwithcolor]

Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?

sodapopsculptor asked:

I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.

OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?

I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.

You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.

But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?

Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?

So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.

Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?

Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?

Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?

To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:

The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”

The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.

The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.

To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.

But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

~ Rina

I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.

More reading: Black in upper-class society

~Mod Colette

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (11)- Power Imbalance

Boss Natasha X Employee Reader 18+

Summary: When you were called into your boss's office, you were expecting to be fired, not fucked on her desk.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Boss/Employee relationship, Fingering, Oral, Brief Spanking, Desk Sex, Multiple orgasms 

Kinktober Masterlist

“Miss Y/L/N,” you look up when you hear a woman say your name, a soft smile gracing her lips, “Miss Romanoff would like to see you in her office.” Fear ran through your body at the sympathetic look the woman gave you afterwards, your mind running a million miles an hour as you tried to figure out why your boss would want to see you in her office. When the woman turned and walked a few steps, looking over her shoulder at you expectantly making your eyes widen.

“N-now?” you stuttered out, not ready to face one of the most intimidating women you’ve ever met, especially when all your brain can think about is her firing you.

“Yes Miss Y/L/N, now,” there's a slight smile tugging at her lips, “I’d hurry if I were you, she doesn’t like to wait.” Papers go flying off your desk as you scramble out of your seat to catch up with the woman, following her confident stride with anxiety coursing through you. Once you reach the door with a sign saying Miss Romanoff, you take in a deep breath before turning to the woman for some support only to find her gone. Nervously, your knuckle raps against the door as you wait for a response, a professional ‘come in’ muffled by the door.

“Take a seat Miss Y/L/N,” she says to you without even looking away from her paperwork, fingers swiftly flicking through the pages before closing the file and turning her attention to you. You listen to her, an apology and mini speech ready in your mind in case she does fire you as you sit in the surprisingly comfortable seat. “I suppose you’re wondering why I called you in here?” Her tone is full of professionalism as she addresses you, her posture amazing as you try and not focus on the suit she’s wearing and how amazing she looks in it.

“Yes Miss Romanoff,” you manage out, feeling small under her intense gaze, a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Well, we’re here to discuss your work here at Avengers so far and what you have done,” your mind dreads what’s to come, you thinking you have horribly messed up all the paperwork you have done for the company so far. “Can you tell me when you handed in the completed file regarding the Strucker case?”

“Uh,” you search for the answer in your brain, taking a moment to remember fully what happened. You remembered staying after your shift had finished to complete the case file, being the last worker in the building to make sure you had it done a few days prior to the deadline. “I handed it in on the 5th, the deadline being the 10th,” you watch her reaction closely but to no avail as her face remains strictly professional.

“The Hydra case?”

“Handed in on the 11th but it was re-evaluated on the 12th, so um the 14th would be when it was handed in, the deadline being the 20th.” Your hands play with each other, a nervous habit you could never escape.

“Are you aware that the 11th and 12th was a weekend?”

“Yes?”

“Ok,” her fingers open the file once more, eyes scanning over the information present, “And what about the Ultron file?”

“Completed by the 25th, the deadline being the 30th,” she asks you many more questions regarding other cases you completed, your nerves building after every question.

“Are you also aware that you managed to complete eight high level priority cases within two months when it would have taken others at least three to four?” Your mouth parted at her words, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“No Miss Romanoff, I wasn’t,” you say, still a little confused.

“Well, you should be extremely impressed by yourself Miss Y/L/N,” a smile takes over your face at her compliment, your eyes watching her as she stands from her seat, walking around her desk until she could lean back on the front of it, standing directly in front of you now. “For doing so well, I have a little offer for you,” her tone drops an octave, the blush on your cheeks darkening as her green eyes look you up and down. “I can either shake your hand and congratulate you on your work, or I can find a more satisfactory way to thank you.” Her hands wrap around the metal arm rests of your seat, her body towering over yours as a wave of heat and arousal washes over you. “What will it be, Miss Y/L/N?”

You answer by slowly and cautiously leaning up to press your lips to hers, her hands cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue slides across your bottom lip, seeking entrance to which you happily gave. Hesitantly, you placed your hands on her waist as she guided you out of the chair, spinning you around so your back hit her desk as her body pressed itself into yours. Her knee slotted between your legs, a groan escaping you at the action and breaking the kiss apart.

“Fuck,” you hear her sigh out, hands going to the back of your thigh and lifting you onto her desk. “Do you know how hard it’s been to resist you?” she pants out near your ear as she peppers kisses along your jaw, her hands sliding under your skirt and softly massaging the skin of your thighs. “My good, innocent little employee who’s so desperate to please?”

“Natasha,” you moan out, deciding to ignore formalities as you can feel her hand creeping high up your leg, fingertips ghosting your embarrassingly wet panties. “Please,” you can feel her smirk against the skin of your neck, her tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat before she pulls back to look at you.

“Hush little one,” she rasps out, “Let me take care of you.” A whimper leaves your lips as she descends to her knees, a sultry smirk present on her face as she unzips your skirt and pulls the item off swiftly, your panties following suit. “You’re so wet for me,” she murmurs, kissing along your inner thighs to make your body throb with want and need for her.

“Please don’t tease me,” you whine out at the feeling of her warm breath fanning over your dripping core. She seems to take pity on you, mouth going straight to your clit and sucking gently, fingers running through your folds and gathering your wetness before effortlessly sliding into you. “Oh shit,” you moan out when her tongue swirls around your clit expertly, her fingers curling inside you perfectly as she hits all the right spots inside you.

Soon, she’s thrusting her fingers into you mercilessly, your knuckles bleeding white as you grip the edge of her desk for support, her tongue relentless on your sensitive clit. Your hands release the desk of their death grip, moving to tangle into her red locks. However, Natasha pulls back at this briefly and looks up at you, your arousal coating her lower face.

“Hands off Kotenok,” she husks out, the sound of her native tongue slipping from mouth makes you somehow even wetter. You listen to her words, moving your hands out of her hair and back to the poor table beneath you, mind clouding with pleasure as she adds another finger into you. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to approach, her name falling off your lips like a chant as she continues to eat you out like she's starved.

“I’m gonna-” you cut yourself off with a scream, one of your hands clasping over your mouth to muffle the noise while the other instinctively goes to her hair once again as you come all over her mouth. She lets you ride out your orgasm before pulling back and letting her hand connect with your core, spanking your pussy making you cry out.

“I told you to keep your hands off,” her tone dangerously dominant as she looks up at you, sending a shiver down your spine. Her mouth goes back to your core, merciless as she listens to the pathetic noises that leave your lips as she drives you to another orgasm. Just as you're about to come again, she pulls back and spanks your core again, a guttural moan echoing around the room as she sends you straight into your second orgasm with the slap, body shaking on her desk. “Fuck, you like it when I spank you?” she taunts, standing up right and claiming your lips, “If I knew that I wouldn’t have hesitated to call you in here and bent you over my desk.”

“Please do,” you whimper out, her shaking her head softly and gently kissing you, letting you calm down after two intense orgasms.

“Not today little one,” she murmurs, “This was just meant to be a thank you but I got carried away.” You wish she would do it today but the rational part of you knew you shouldn’t rush into anymore, especially after only just finding out you liked to be spanked. “How about you have a meeting with me on Friday, we can discuss whatever you want?” Her hands comfort you by roaming your body before she helps you redress, a blush on your face as you anticipate what could happen.

“I’ll see you Friday, Miss Romanoff,” you say teasingly but before she can say anything else in response, the woman from earlier, who you realise is her secretary, knocks on the door to alert her of the meeting in a few moments.

“Don’t be a brat or maybe you’ll end up bent over this desk sooner than Friday,” she purrs into your ear, gathering the file from her desk and walking you to the door. “Enjoy the rest of your day Miss Y/L/N,” she softly says with a smile, you smiling in response before watching her walk away to the elevator, hips swaying subtly before looking over her shoulder to send a wink your way as the doors closed.

Only three more days till Friday…

[woozivrsefactry]

l.jh — for the extra creds

pairing : student t.a.!lee jihoon x prof!reader synopsis : jihoon could use some extra college creds and he knows just the ay to get them from his favorite professor w.c. : 1.5 k tw : oral (f rec), power imbalance, unconventional relationships, semi-public, hair pulling, dirty talking

The university halls were quiet by the late afternoon, most students having already packed up and left for the day. Jihoon always stayed behind, though—he was the kind of assistant who went above and beyond, so when Professor (y/l/n) lingered to grade assignments after hours, he stayed to “help.” At least, that’s what he told himself.

Today, as usual, you’re sitting in your office, engrossed in the latest batch of midterms. The soft scratching of your pen against paper fills the silence until a quiet knock at your door pulls your attention up. Jihoon peeks in, eyes flicking down with an uncharacteristic shyness before he enters fully, closing the door behind him.

“Professor, you… need any help with grading today?” His voice is casual, but there’s something in his tone—a soft pleading you’ve grown to recognize. You look up over your glasses, raising a brow, your lips curving up at the corners as you notice his expectant expression.

“Jihoon, don’t you have a life outside these walls?” You tease, smirking as he draws closer, coming to stand beside your desk.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “But I like it here.”

The tension in the air is undeniable, and Jihoon’s eyes flick to yours as he leans a little closer, resting his palms on the edge of your desk. “I was hoping I might be able to earn some extra credit… outside of my usual duties,” he says, a shy smirk tugging at his lips.

“Extra credit?” You tilt your head, the edge of a laugh in your voice. “How desperate are we talking here, Mr. Lee?”

For a moment, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, almost contemplative, as he lets his gaze flick down. “Desperate enough,” he murmurs, a boldness creeping into his tone as he reaches for the edge of your chair, spinning it just slightly toward him.

You glance down, aware of the implicit invitation, and arch a brow as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

“You know, I usually expect my students to ask a little more nicely,” you whisper, crossing your legs as you lean back in your chair, watching his eyes follow the movement.

Jihoon’s cheeks flush, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Please… Professor,” he says, his voice low, hands hovering just over your knees.

There’s a thrill that comes with making him work for it, the power in hearing him say “please” even though you know he’s holding back a smirk.

With a quiet hum, you give him a small nod, spreading your legs just enough to let him move between them. He takes off his thick-rimmed black glasses as his fingers slide up the smooth material of your stockings, brushing over the edge of your skirt, and you can feel him exhale softly, his breath warm against your thigh.

Jihoon meets your gaze as he tugs the fabric of your skirt higher, fingers lingering over the soft skin of your thighs, and you can’t help but feel a shiver as his touch brushes upward. You reach down, curling your fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“Don’t get lazy now, Jihoon,” you murmur with a smirk. “Let’s see how hard you’re willing to work for this grade.”

He shivers under your touch, a faint grin flashing across his face before he lowers his head, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s positioned between your legs. His fingers slip under the hem of your skirt, nudging it further up until it’s bunched around your hips. he continues to pull down your panties with the stockings till they pool at your ankle, exposing you to his gaze.

“Better?” he murmurs, voice low, though you can sense the mischief in his tone.

You smirk down at him, tightening your grip in his hair as you tilt his head up. “I’ll be the one asking the questions here, Mr. Lee,” you respond, watching his eyelids flutter as he reacts to the firm tug. “You think you’ve earned the right to speak yet?”

He shakes his head, though his lips quirk in the faintest hint of a smile. “No, Professor,” he replies, that eager, obedient glint in his eye flickering as he dips his head lower.

You hum in approval, adjusting in your chair to get more comfortable as he starts, his movements careful and intentional. He takes his time, his breath warm and steady against your skin, and each soft brush of his lips and tongue is a tease against your thighs like he’s savoring every moment he’s allowed between your legs.

But patience has never been Jihoon’s strong suit, and after a few quiet moments, he glances up, his eyes dark with anticipation, almost as if asking for permission.

"Are you that eager?" you ask, your voice a soft challenge.

He meets your gaze, his lips already parted, and nods without hesitation. “Only if it pleases you, Professor,” he says quietly, a touch of reverence in his voice.

You tilt your head back, letting out a soft sigh as his mouth begins to move with more intent, laping at your pussy, his touch bolder now as he leans in fully. Each stroke of his tongue is measured, like he’s set on learning exactly how to make you fall apart under him. Your fingers tighten in his hair, keeping him close, and you can feel the way he shudders at the touch, clearly enjoying the control you hold over him.

“That’s better,” you murmur, watching the way he reacts to every instruction, his eagerness palpable as he continues to work diligently, driven by that need to impress you, to be perfect for you.

Minutes pass in a heated blur, each soft sound from him sending jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel yourself slipping further into the haze he’s creating, his focus and attention unwavering. Just when you feel yourself reaching the edge, you tug on his hair, pulling him back for a brief moment, and he looks up, eyes wide with surprise.

“Not too fast, Mr. Lee,” you say, catching your breath. “Didn’t anyone teach you that good things take time?”

He nods, breathless, swallowing hard as he catches your gaze. “Yes, Professor,” he murmurs, his voice low, but he can’t hide the eager look in his eyes.

“Good.” You offer a small, approving smile and release his hair, allowing him to return to his work, this time more measured and careful. you stroke his hair, pulling him closer. "suck on the clit, Jihoon, don't just be greedy for my cunt."

Jihoon shivers at your tone and explicit language but follows nonetheless. he latched his pretty pink lips around your clit, sucking on it while looking at you with his lust-filled dark eyes. Your back arches, your thighs squeezing his face as the knot in your abdomen builds

Finally, as the tension builds to an almost unbearable peak, you let out a sigh, fingers tightening in his hair once more as you hold him in place. He seems to understand, focusing his movements until the last wave crests, leaving you breathless and sated, the world momentarily hazy around you.

You exhale slowly, letting your grip on his hair loosen as he leans back, gazing up at you with that same quiet, slightly mischievous expression.

“So… extra credit?” he asks, a hint of his usual humor returning as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

You straighten up, adjusting your skirt back into place as you lean forward, giving him a playful look. “If you keep that level of focus up, Mr. Lee,” you say, reaching down to tap his chin lightly, “you might just make the top of the class.”

He grins, standing up as he straightens his shirt, his own cheeks flushed as he brushes off his knees.

“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor,” he murmurs, his voice filled with newfound confidence as he heads for the door, glancing back over his shoulder with a smile. And as you watch him leave, you can’t help but smile to yourself, looking forward to the next “lesson.”

[yesimwriting]

I feel like the reader in best friend!Felix is actually really smart, heck, let's say genius even, but is really oblivious when it comes to sentiment. The reader gives off nerd vibes, but they're so smart to the point it's a cool kinda thing. And if this was before Felix met Oliver, I feel like reader, like Farleigh, would get bad vibes from Ollie too but would be too shy? I guess, to say anything cause hey, they're new and stuff. I like the fic:) It's nice to read something like that, without the explicit content, I mean:D

A/n: omg love this,, definitely doing a bestfriend!felix blurb on this concept later, i just wanted to explore character dynamics for a second lol

fun fact: i originally pictured bestfriend!reader as a literal genius with -3 street smarts, it's just info that didn't make it into the fic!!

also i could see reader as being so smart they skipped a grade (if we want to add to the power/social imbalance by making reader a little younger, but not like weirdly younger) open to thoughts on this !

i picture bestfriend!reader as having an elle woods quality to their intelligence in terms of awareness (and maybe aesthetic, it is the early 2000's lol),, reiterating the most complicated parts of a lecture perfectly during a study session while half focused on applying lip gloss, aces exams while hungover (bc felix insisted on going out), and never registers how impressive all of it is

very much "what? like it's hard" but as literal as that statement could be

which could add to reader's shyness/uncertainty bc she forgets she's a little intimidating

okay but the potential of reader getting bad vibes from oliver if she became close friends with felix a little after oliver did?? too good

reader doesn't want to alienate oliver, he's the only one around felix that's also an outsider, that should make it easier to bond

but!! because reader is that smart, she has this gut feeling that tells her to keep him at arm's length,, but bc she's not the best at picking up on feelings, it's basically just that 6th sense thing that girls have that tells them when a guy has weird/unsafe intentions

bc reader can't articulate their concern, or understand it, they try to be nice, but oliver can tell that there's this distrust there

it drives him crazy

first of all, reader should be the easiest one to win over bc she's not one of the elites and she's a little awkward from time to time, it's frustrating that there doesn't seem to be a crux for him to use to weasel his way into reader's heart

oliver's aware that he can get close to felix without the others liking him as long as they tolerate him enough in public, but with reader, oliver knows more about felix's real feelings for them than felix does

that adds this timing element to the situation that’s stressful, because as soon as felix realizes how he feels about the reader, that will be that

meanwhile, reader is a little worried about being dropped bc of the tension between her and oliver, but oliver doesn’t fully notice that, he’s too distracted by his feelings

it's not fair, oliver "had" felix first, but oliver's perfectly capable of adapting to the situation, so he accepts it and looks at it practically

oliver knows that there is no fully "in" with felix unless you like him, so despite any resentment and jealousy he feels towards you, he decides that he'll do whatever it takes to get it

[messiahzzz]

Grooming also doesn't have to involve sex. So even if people think his relationship with Mystra was appropriate, you still can't deny he wasn't groomed to be great. The guy caught Elminster's attention at eight years old ffs. There's no way around it.

that’s the thing. it doesn’t matter at what exact point their relationship became sexual, it doesn’t matter whether gale was of age at this point in time or not. grooming is a process, it’s pure manipulation that sets the groundwork to ensure that this person will be fully accessible (in whatever way the abuser desires, usually sexual) at a later point. children can be groomed, teenagers can be groomed and adults can be groomed as well - age is no factor in this regard. children are merely common victims due to being more impressionable. it’s essentially about creating a power imbalance that the abuser exploits for their own gratification.

the discussion about where to fit gale’s relationship with mystra in terms of her death & the overall timeline (while fun to theorize over) is redundant imo, since larian has been known to play pretty loose with the lore themselves. there are already so many inconsistencies.

so, the information we have regarding mystra’s relationship with gale are these snippets:

mystra first functioned as his mentor, then his muse, and later his lover.

gale’s relationship with her was indeed of a sexual nature, he has explicitly stated so several times.

elminster sought him out when he was but 8 years old, as stated in the epilogue letter.

during the ending where gale fails to ascend raphael states during the credits that tav has “rekindled gale’s ambitions after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest”

if you do want to consider d&d lore, it also tells us that mystra possesses a degree of foresight. (my friend @galedekarios already wrote a very thorough meta on the general subject.)

elminster’s letter pretty much confirms any suspicions we might have had earlier. after all, what reason is there for elminster, one of mystra’s chosen, to seek out gale specifically? how was he aware of gale in the first place? what personal incentive could he possibly have that isn’t tied to mystra in some way? why gale specifically when there are likely many young wizards with a potential for greatness that he could take under his wing? claiming that “it wasn’t mystra who sought him out, but elminster” feels like a rather naive and shortsighted read on the situation imo. we know that mystra was gale’s mentor and that she eventually made him her chosen. it isn’t hard to connect the dots.

summed up: we do know that mystra had her sight set on gale when he was an 8-year-old boy, possibly even earlier than that. the intention was already there and we know that their relationship underwent the transitions of teacher, muse, and then lover.

gale has been inevitably shaped by her grooming (just like any victim) to be devoted, to be compliant, to be loyal, to not question. many of his behaviors and beliefs are a direct result of said manipulation and abuse. gale himself is only starting to comprehend the possibility that he might actually be a victim once the tadpole crew comes into his life. and, like i said in my previous post, has barely scratched the surface of the damage that was done.

[fumifooms]

Thistle & Falin

Just my narrative of Thistle & Falin, collection of shippy thoughts and dynamic analysis. Creating some imagery and threads, etc. What if we both made devotion to our loved ones our purpose, what if we both hadn’t lived for ourselves in a long, long time. Who are we? Beyond who we love and our powers, what are we?

Background info: a short Falin analysis touching on Faligon and Thistle + an old thistlin post, compiling most of their moments. Here I delve into further thoughts but for base analysis of what they have in canon and in potential those are good starts. If you want I also have a full Falin analysis.

Disclaimer: Beyond the nebulous 1000 years I place Thistle as a young adult, and though I agree Falin mothers him to some degree I don’t think it’s unsimilar to the way that Marcille is a mom friend that sometimes mothers Falin and Izutsumi especially. Their relationship has layers like every other one in Dunmeshi, reducing it to being incestuously motherly or age discoursy to justify it being problematic is so funny to me, hello did you miss the mind control. Ah yes I love the 1090 yo with godlike powers being groomed by his chicken slave. You can have your own interpretation but canon is ambiguous enough, and dare I say intentionally ambiguous, that I have no qualms with not infantilizing Thistle, same with Yaad at the end of canon. I do ship Thistle and Falin, and although it’s in a nebulous qpr-or-other third secret thing situationship instead of conventionally romantic way, like, I puke on anything giving them a parental framing so don’t come shitting on my doorstep, kid-Thistle truthers be warned. Only nuance enjoyers allowed on this post. It’s valid if you’re uncomfortable with the ship!! Don’t make your issue others’ problem.

I thankfully finished my Falin analysis before posting this, but besides that I also have an analysis coming on the whole Thistle age thing which I think is interesting, beyond the well being poisoned there are things to explore there, idk in how long that’ll be done though. That’s all for plans that are relevant to this, now let’s get into it.

Part 1

So my favorite Falin things are Faligon + her sense of being like a pawn/misplaced, going on autopilot to follow the wishes of others, a feeling of identity being a burden and sort of fleeing from that, and her not really caring in the way/with the intensity that she’s "supposed" to (as per the points I go over in my Falin analysis). Meanwhile, Thistle has a lot of shit going on already but then there’s also how being a dungeon lord is highly wearing on his mind. As Faligon and as dungeon lord Thistle, the way they’re both so out of touch with reality in different ways holy shit?? They have power imbalance between them and it very much comes from mind control lol, but it’s also not something Thistle is fully aware of himself, because the powers are driving him unstable and he’s not even aware there’s someone in front of him really. He’s so out of it that he can’t even recognize that the dragon has been fused with a human and she’s so out of it we can’t even tell how conscious of her actions she is.

And then the interesting thing is that they’re kind of in it together… Mostly from Falin’s standpoint. We see that he does rely on the dragon increasingly so, hanging out with it, being saved by it and embraced by her etc. When he lets them both fall after breaking the web they were hanging from, he automatically, fully and wordlessly trusts her to catch him, instead of relying on magic or anything, and she does. Falin devotes herself to him but he’s devoted to The Cause which is just chasing ghosts at this point. But despite it all there’s a weird comfort here too… From the guy who in his last moment of lucidity reached out for someone, anyone’s hand, from the guy who hasn’t felt companionship in hundreds of years probably, hasn’t taken it slow and slept and eaten in who knows how long, from the girl who feels compelled to care after him like she’s always done with others… And the beast-ness allows her to have some freedom to figure herself out in a weird way, to simply enjoy being beside someone and doing anything her own whims tell her to.

It’s very destructive and weird and layered but like…. I can see the sliver where it works out. Where her kindness reaches him and he has a moment of lucidity where he sees her and it’s like, wait, who are you, you’re not the dragon?? Where finding someone else who feels just as messed up and devoted as them, like they’re just trudging along life like it’s a dream following their loved one, heals them a bit. Where caring for the other becomes a way to care for themselves too, a dark mirror of each other that shows you, oh, this is how bad it can get and I want to choose something else for myself actually. To grow to see the person standing in front of you, instead of only searching with your eyes in what way they’ll reflect on you. In helping each other, finding some companionship that’s weirdly vulnerable and self-healing. He gets her in touch with herself and her own needs again through the arc and conflict they have, and she gets him in touch with the world and his surroundings again. They have clashing ways to be selfless, very self-sacrificial from Falin meanwhike self-centered with Thistle (he ‘knows best’, ‘everything needs to be left to him’, etc etc, he needs the control, but he does it all for others, meanwhile Falin leaves that control to others and only grabs it for herself in exceptional cases like sacrificing herself to the dragon for Laios).

Like just let yourself be, damn!!! So then them being like, zombie mentally stunted babies kind of enhances that theme in a way too lol. The way they communicate together is very… Instinctive and basic, and I’d love to see how it could develop into a functional dynamic. They’re in ‘learning to be your own person’ kindergarten together to me. Thistle looking at her coloring wildly outside the lines and being like "you’re doing it wrong" and then you look at his and he colored everything a weird color. The precision is scary but then his crayon goes 1 mm out of the lines and he blows up into tears. Ok the metaphor has run its course

So yeah like the ship/brotp is very, them being isolated and against the world together and like… Slowly regaining their minds together. Getting their sense of identity grounded into them again. In my mind they have a 50k words adventure where they hang out and he slowly realizes there’s more to her than just dragon and she encourages him to dawdle around and eventually just play in water and shit and it’s like, starting to see life again beyond the laser focus you limited yourself to… And she’s allowed to just chill out and do whatever she wants besides the whole searching for Delgal thing. You can’t tie down a dragon! They are a duo they are an unit‼️ He’d have been fucked without her and at this point in time he sort of made her and he’s her world. Traumabonded kittens do not separate but it’s onesided in different ways haha. Honestly it’s sort of reflavored mickuro wait fuck…

If nothing else, they’re a very interesting dynamic to ponder. The depths of it all… I want to use them as a social experiment. I want them to stop to smell at the flowers and learn to work together… They’re master and servant they’re owner and pet they’re mothering and mothered (in a guardian hound way, in a mom friend way) they’re both incredibly (emotionally and physically) vulnerable in different ways…… Master and monster if you will. Mostly I see them as guardian & leader. Like I said I ship them but it’s not really romantic atp I think but it’s not quite qpr either it’s truly a weird secret third thing… What if we were sort of coworkers but also ?!!!>??????! You should hate me but you fiercely protect me I should appreciate you but I only see you as a tool WHAT IS GOING ONNN IN THERE

He wants to be protected even if he can’t really admit it. Here the catalyst was emotional distress moreso than physical threat. Notice how he lays there under her wing for a bit as he (refuses to) processes what Mithrun told him about Delgal dying and betraying him. She’s becoming his safety net, his comfort hound. Somehow, the both of them find they’re soothed in each other’s presence.

It kills me. Them being so toxic at the start of it, then somehow ambiguously just hinting towards how things could have went on to be better, could have been headed somewhere nice and healing and healthier, she dies and he dies everyone fucking dies and they forget each other and it ends there they never speak of each other again. Canon wanted me dead specifically. Like remember too that I was there when the last chapters where being released, my ass really was like "Oh I wonder how Falin will react seeing Thistle after being revived!" 🤡 But yess at least that means there’s a lot of Unsaid, a lot of space for speculation, and I want to see what could have been. I want to see it so so bad. It’s so interesting

Post-canon is also so interesting, where they’re sort of recovered but not fully not really, them actually getting to know each other… And she doesn’t remember him but he doesn’t remember her either, in a way they’ve never met even though they have, even though she was the first one on his side since so long, the first hint of companionship he’s had, companionship that he’s so unused to getting that he can’t even recognize it for what it is. He couldn’t even recognize a human standing in front of him!! He is so disconnected from others and the world!! He spoke to ghosts like they had no worries in the world and everyone was ok!! He’s out of touch, tone-deaf af!! Has always been tone-deaf!! Being tone-deaf when he was younger, a stick in the mud, caused him to be more isolated than he already was… Autism4autism, anyways—

It’s them not knowing why or how to express it but being drawn together, a bond forged together by the fire of circumstances and coincidences— or is it only that? No one can know for certain but there’s a grip they have on each other there somehow. Weird distant caring thing. I dont know who you are but I feel like I should know you

It’s like my headcanon that she doesn’t know why, but on her travels she feels something when she comes across wild thistle flowers… There are just faint remnants, whispers of feelings like ghosts.

They should be remnants in each other’s lives. A deja vu of a person in the way Falin hugs small dolls to her chest, or how Thistle reminisces of something when he sees bird feathers discarded on the ground. < This paragraph courtesy of @cabinette’s huge brain

He canonically writes poems btw… Poems would be such a good way for him to get in touch with himself again post-canon, find desires in again and get creative fulfillment. He should make poems about her. To explore and vent and express all the vague feelings and memories he has, both those of during canon and after canon. He doesn’t remember her but he remembers her, slivers of kind eyes and warm gentle hands and healing magic like a blanket…

Yaad, an unlicensed therapist but the best you're gonna get in fantasy land: Maybe you should try journaling.

And too the thing is their relationship with each other in a way is ONLY about themselves, even when Falin is being self-sacrifical it’s less about him and more about how she generally is, that sort of instinct to latch onto someone and just follow along with whatever they do and ask, meanwhile to Thistle she’s only ever been a factor in his plans. Idk idk them getting to that point where they see and know each other, stumbling into that through canon or actively working towards it post-canon, there’s weird beauty in that Like. Thistle cares about her because he’ll take anyone as long as they fit the job description well enough, he’s desperate to find Delgal and will grasp at straws to find him. In a similar way that he’ll reach for someone, anyone’s hand on the verge of death, she seeks to protect someone, anyone. That’s how she centers herself, makes someone her compass and her world. Falin wants to protect someone and Thistle would use anyone, pushed to the states they were in they would latch onto anyone for comfort (caring for him, grabbing Marcille’s hand).

Mirrors truly truly. And Thistle likes to shatter those, and silence anyone who tries to talk to him about reality, so then the option left is to be by him quietly and subtly gradually, gently (her specialty) nudge him in the right direction … Nooo but actually why did he shatter those mirrors. Very interesting to think about. Would seeing himself in others anger him?

I like to call him a ghost of who he was sometimes, a ghost of the past, he’s so haunted, and I think there’s fun imagery there too. The care she offers Thistle somewhat reminds me of the one she offers ghosts. I wonder if part of it is that she sees herself in ghosts, that she wants to offer them freedom and peace of mind she can’t get for herself.

And of course meanwhile on her end, the thistlin arc is also about growing self-respect. I don’t want to see Thistle as a lost cause in saying that her efforts are wasted on him, but being so permissive and invested in him is obviously not healthy for her. She needs to learn when to put her foot down

Oooh, just realized that choosing to eat in this scene was a big character moment all things considered. By eating she faltered in her task, stood up for herself and her needs, was selfish for once (/positive go get your damn food girl). She chose to eat. Anyways

I bet he’s the one who healed her wounds after the Shuro party fight. And on that note— it’s interesting he could change her form from Falin to Faligon without touching her isn’t it? Healing by everyone else like Marcille and Falin always required touch, physical contact between the healer and healee, which some like Chilchuck say is a negative, but… The dungeon lord not needing to touch to heal makes a nice metaphor for how isolating the powers are I think. Truly clinical instead of warm. Theme of community and freely offering affection in Dungeon Meshi etc etc. Like I said, Thistle is out of touch.

The way that he has the powers to change her form and heal and like soo much magic power but he can’t even realize when he’s hurting himself and she’s the one who has to heal him. He’s so fully devoted to the cause even when he acts selfishly that he neglects himself too, and she has to remind him to take care of himself, to eat, etc. That she feeds him. Eating is an act of love to yourself and to life. The berries, the curry, the soup that Thistle refuses to eat—

Do you see the vision. Do you see all the narrative relevance and themes and parallels of their dynamic. To chase ghosts, to cling onto them so they stay with you no matter how warped and ugly they get, and to soothe souls, purifying them and helping them depart for the afterlife… Both magic prodigies whose lives revolve around protecting and caring after their loved ones more than anything else. A family member who looks elsewhere while they are their whole world. They can flee their emotional issues together 🤝 Who are we? Beyond who we love and our power, what are we? I think about the way she cradled him in her arms just before they fell down into the dungeon all the time idk idk

^ End notes from the one fic I wrote about them so far: Slivers, on AO3. For a moment, they were both slivers of themselves, bound together.

Thistle feverishly holding onto ghosts of the past and his source of power, meanwhile Falin cradles the people she can protect in the now with the powers that reside in her… Him cradling his book, her cradling her master……… Parallels

Interlude

And yess it’s important to remember too, Thistle became a mage only after delgal asked… He had innate talent, but moreso than Falin it’s through studies that he learned to actually harness his magic etc. Idk I think it’s an interesting parallel that could have interesting stuff be done on it. People often characterize him as predominantly bratty but. He’s smart and composed he’s mainly smart and composed… He’s unstable and everything during canon was happening all at once with the winged lion being freed and Laios’ party and the canaries and agh </3 He can have a meltdown as a treat he’s smart and cool-headed if it wasn’t for the dungeon wearing on his mind ok… Obvi I love my chars with anger issues but saying he’s overly childish is having tunnel vision I think

Ok so the elephant in the room… First of all how present is Falin in Falugon exactly…… We have no clue. The end sequence does show her in purgatory with a dragon foot holding her down, which can easily be read as it suppressing her personality- with how it’s shown though it feels like she’d be fully suppressed by that? And we know that’s not the case, since not only does she recognize Laios and calls out to him, she hesitates to hurt Kuro because of the dog association, she’s excessively kind towards Thistle, the latter which her Adventurer’s Bible profile confirm to be "her kind nature remaining as the chimera". Maybe it’s a dream-like state? Maybe the dragon is the driving force with the instincts, and it’s only bits of Falin and her personality that show through? A state of mind very primal and not very think-y, even if Falin has enough brains to think of sharing the berries, gesturing and oh- of course, casting magic. No issues with controlling the human half of her body as well. To some degree, her and the dragon are working in tandem. My own preferred interpretation is the driven by instincts one, a state of mind like an actual dragon’s, which in my Falin analysis I delve into the significance of it for other parts of Dunmeshi too. So yeah, dreamlike mindless autopilot… I think exploring her pov as Faligon would go super hard. Aware of her surroundings but sort of disconnected with it, and disconnected from herself too, entirely living in the present… And like with her talking to Laios— the only time she speaks in her chimera form, a simple observation, "Laios, brother", sometimes her human thoughts peek through more sharply, short moments of lucidity… I think it’d be interesting to see an arc where as the chimera, she learns to share the "brainspace" more with the dragon.

It’s also unclear if Thistle had a say in how much of ‘Falin the human’ is in control? He very well might have suppressed her somehow when he changed her form to be more dragonlike. That might also be due to just getting back the dragon meat though— and the dragon meat itself might be why/how the brainspace is shared. There is a lot less of Falin’s body in the chimera than there is of the dragon, body mass wise. Dungeon Meshi is a lot about physicality so I wouldn’t be surprised with this reasoning. But there’s the whole mind control soul bond situation too…

The mind bond is another thing that’s left mostly to interpretation when it comes to the details. She feels compelled to listen to the dungeon lord’s orders as a monster created and owned by it, like the dragons Thistle summoned during the fight at his house, but again like we see with the dragons, if the monster has a "strong will" it can disobey to some level without being punished by the bind or anything. The eyes of the magician, the small wyverns, level-of-control wise can’t be accurate examples because they’re sort of like familiars, Thistle can see through their eyes in real time no matter where they are but it’s only this species as far as we know. So otherwise the mind bond is more subtle… There’s also the question of how much the control is shared between the dungeon lord and the demon, which again Thistle’s situation is exceptional because he managed to seal his demon in a book, presumably all the power goes through Thistle without the intermediate of the winged lion, though we do see he has some reach since he reaches Laios through his dreams. ANYWAYS all that to say. I do really ponder about how a dungeon lord's monsters get their orders, like... For the fight on the first floor, did Falin just feel Thistle's agony in her bones and came clawing and barging her way in desperately and angrily to protect him because of his distress, or did he more directly demand she come, consciously or not?! Idk, since Falin is actively protective of him unlike the dragons who reluctantly listen to him, her being very fast and intense about it doesn’t have to be forced… It’d be interesting if she can sense his feelings, wants or thoughts, bc I don’t think it’s as conscious as like, telepathically communicating "hey you, do this"…? Pondering, pondering. Mind bond <3 Soulbound <3

They’re both very trapped in the past… I wonder if as Faligon a lot of her mind goes back to memories of Laios and such, if she’s in a dreamlike state and not just sort of absent, where would her mind retreat... I don’t think so like I said I think she’s mostly driven by dragonlike mindlessness, but still… Thistle stuck in the search of Delgal, thinking back to everything they’ve shared and where it all went wrong obsessively, and Falin, sort of larping that she’s still beside Laios, not unlike how Thistle treats having the corpses of the royal family at his house like them being safe. Delusions. Idk I just want more character studies.

The metaphors in this truly… It’s not literal, like def not something that happens during canon at no point are they or could be ever atop a mountain of frames and paintings of the Golden Kingdom’s royal family and fine art lmaoo, so then like the meaning behind it all… She offers him reprieve, an outsider from all the Golden Kingdom expectations and drama, just someone warm to lean on, someone who’ll stay…….. I love Faligon pushing him to rest and nap so much. Man has first nap in a thousand years. Feather duvet like a nice warm pillow. The peace she offers him man……. Live in the present bbygirl Unfortunately it doesn't help. Look at them eyebags… Man needs to sleep!!

Part 2

^ This panels drives me crazy It’s the possessivity. It’s the "my". It’s the "stealing".

What if you have fear of abandonment and think you have to prove your worth for people to stay by your side. What if belonging to someone makes you feel like you belong and you feel loved and soothed by it lowkey, feel like it makes things easy. What if I was bought as a slave and servant but I was adopted into a pretty loving family. What if ownership is what love looks like to me. What if that’s why I have no problem rationalizing keeping people against their will in a glorified kingdom-prison, because that’s just what someone with the power who Knows Better does, and… Did he always call her his dragon hello? Feelings

He is not letting it go damn He hates when people mess with what's his. Or Delgal’s.

But imagine. The dragon is like, the last thing he has. The Golden Kingdom has moved on from him, everything is shit, but his dragon is the last thing he still has some realm of like. Ownership over. But that ownership is kinda just his sense of belonging. His role, his duty.  So it’s like "Don’t steal the last thing I have" especially if post-canon… It’s thinking from his time as a jester bought into a loving family that ownership is natural in love and care. It’s thinking that’s the way you get to belong beside someone, beside earning that through achievements and being useful and capable. Everything is being stolen away from him. Control and things and people and even the importance he has to the Golden Kingdom as he becomes part of the background & past history and the kingdom switches into new hands aka Laios’…

My dragon, not the dragon. I do like to imagine especially after the berries he’s starting to feel differently about her. He keeps being like "you’re acting odd, dragon". His dragon is special. She’s not just another regular monster npc to easily replace, there’s human contact in there. His dragon just for him. <3

I do think Falin has some issues with like, asking to be with the people she loves, feeling safe in asking for that, that she’s worth that. She follows them and is quiet and just takes the crumbs of love that they offer, she doesn’t ask Marcille at the academy to spend lunches with her, doesn’t ask anything of her distant busy father and ill anxious mother… The person she did ask things of, Laios, who she always asked to go travel the world with him and whatnot, left her behind. Like how Delgal left Thistle. Theme of leaving </3 theme of family and abandonment issues </3 So she just follows and cares after them and makes herself useful and is grateful she gets to be beside them at all. So yeah what I’m saying is being owned/belonging to someone might feel yeah like, belonging. Being One Person's. He’s seen her at her worst and most bloody and raw, and still wants her? Very comforting And especially post-canon he doesn’t need her to be witty or useful or such, he just needs her love and that’s what she has lots to give.

Do you think Falin wants to be needed… Do you think she’s a little restless if she doesn’t feel like she is, like she thinks just like Laios people might leave you behind and you never see them again.  It’s also because of what she said, that she put others before herself, that she just followed/imprinted on her parents/Laios/Marcille. She avoided conflict, she wanted to be liked and live in peace. The only times she was selfish, she hurt people (left school for Laios, sacrificed herself for them, teleported them out despite possibly hurting people on the surface), so she chooses to be selfless instead. "One of the most selfish things i've ever done was barely even for the sake of myself" - Falin and Toshiro both hah Falin is often told she doesn’t care the right way or not enough, you’re cutting classes Falin, I’m upset you left me and you don’t even seem to think it’s a big deal Falin, you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself to save me (her not noticing her ostracization in her village wasn’t told to her but I’m including it also). And with Toshiro when considering her proposal, she was worried to accept because yeah it’s have been convenient but she wouldn’t be reciprocating his feelings in the way he wants and expected her to with what he asked of her… And she’s worried it wouldn’t be right… Bc she doesn’t care about the proposal on the same level he does….. I just think that’s neat I think that Falin caring both too little and too much, with laser focus on Laios & Marcille neglecting even herself, is a big part of her. She focuses on others and their emotional needs so so much always, babygirl be selfish for a while…

Thistle’s interaction with Laios is interesting too, especiaoly when Kaios heals him. How he looks at his shoulder, surprised and confused… Guy who's used to not having his personal needs met because he's so busy doing everything for the people he cares about receives care??? Woah that’s crazy Something something being so unused to human contact and affection that you don’t know how to process it and don’t recognize it when it happens/stares you right in the face. Thistle the Toudens are gonna make you open up ur heart to humans again on god…

What if… He doesn’t want to admit she’s not the dragon. If he admits it’s not the dragon that means giving up some control… This was not in his plan, he doesn’t know how well he can control a chimera rather than a dragon, it’s weakness it’s vulnerability it’s feeling like he’s losing his grip on everything again and thus losing his place and purpose. Hmm…

Finding yourself through someone else… Because defining yourself through others is what you’ve always done… Yeah. Yeah.

I do love it tying into Falin’s arc of finding herself. Like, she doesn’t remember her time as a chimera, she just remembers this guy she has conflicted but fond feelings of for some reason, so say if they travel post-canon, traveling with him would also be a way to figure out more how she’s feeling, and then there’s how when looking at him she gets the feeling that it’s been a long time he hasn’t lived for himself either… And like for him traveling is about seeing the world a bit too. Seeing it not as something to control or always dangerous but something to explore, and just enjoy the little things instead of worrying about the court. And just. Aghhhh. He hasn’t had someone on his side for centuries. Sighs. Of course Yaad also becomes that largely but traveling post-canon with Falin… Would love to see that in fancontent

Them growing to SEE each other, with the film in front of their eyes slowly fading away. Both of them coming out of it more genuine than they’d been even before meeting, before becoming warped, growing more comfortable in their skin and with the thought of connecting with others. It’s the mutual care <33 it’s having been on each other’s side at both your ugliest <3 Unconventional caring...

Toshiro saying "you can’t tie down a dragon" is always so good… Someone should so do stuff with that. "But you can tame it" / "I tried to once" / "but she chose to stay with me anyways"… Musical theme of How to Train your Dragon starts playing in the distance

When/after they get together, I feel like their relationship isn’t something they like to label… If anything it’s like. Partner. Or calling each other by name… Him calling her my dragon, except now it’s warm and personal would be so. Aughh <3 But then that just also makes the first time he calls her by name so huge.

Conclusion

They and their relationship is weird and unusual but that’s just how they are, and how they need to accept themselves (again: as they are) and roll with it! And make a place in the world for them anyways!

Magic forced them to be vulnerable in front of each other but it’s them who have to like… Be pushed out of their passivity and do something with that vulnerability.

BROTHERSSS THEY’RE BOTH ALL ABOUT BROTHERS. LEAVING. OUT OF TOUCH WITH REALITY. OUT OF TOUCH WITH THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN IDENTITY. In a twisted way only the other would understand what it’s like.

Thistlin is so crazy, in humanizing you it humanizes me, in recognizing you for what you are I get more back in touch with the world again.

Flighted birds have hollow bones. With freedom there are risks and drawbacks. Thistle was Falin’s.

It’s not everyday you can have a ship where both characters are out of touch with reality and others and themselves and have this weird almost innate bond of her being compelled to protect him and care for him and him holding onto that unknowingly… Even if he didn’t need to, keeping her by himself and sitting on her while he plans and has a panic attack….. And also he owns her and robbed her of her freedom & body & full mind but she still wuvs him. Weird intimacy with the guy who horrifically changed you into something else, and yet is not even aware he has done it.

Falin loves nature and Thistle is named after a flower… Her post-canon coming across wild thistles and feeling a rush of fondness and she doesn’t know why… Thistles have thorns, but they taste sweet. Just gotta peel them off and enjoys the sweet taste of it once it’s open <3 Eat it like them honeysuckles

Slice of life 40k words thistlin sitcom I need you. Don’t make me write it myself. Sob

You are so so close sweetie…

wutiwant

I don't know what I want But I know it's not this These words don't mean nothing Once they left my lips More awake inside of my dreams Was that really you, next to me? Give me what I want, who am I supposed to please? Who am I supposed to please? Who am I? Who am I? I? Give me what I want Give me what I want

Some links, since the pair is small enough that finding stuff for them can be hard: Falin & Thistle search on pixiv Falin & Thistle search on danbooru Ao3: Thistle x Falin, Thistle & Falin Ship names: ファリシス / シスファリ. Thistlin

My own spotify playlists: Thistle & Falin, Thistle, Falin

source v

[wonysugar]

domceo!yeji x subfem!reader hcs

a/n: I WASN’T EVEN PLANNING TO WRITE THIS BUT FUCKCKC the thought has been in my mind all day i couldn’t help it

tags: smut, wlw, office au, boss x employee, idol x reader, yeji, itzy

content warning: mild manipulation, power abuse, kinda consensual non-con, power imbalance

word count: 542

you’ve been working at this company for a long while now, your coworkers know you take your job very seriously. so much so that you sometimes stay overtime

but only you knew that you don’t do it solely for the work, you also do it to see your boss, miss hwang yeji, more often

being the one who inherited the company from mr. hwang, her father, she also takes her job very seriously and is an insanely strict person. everybody in the company is incredibly terrified of her due to her cold eyes and attitude, but you’re… weirdly attracted to it?

you acknowledge that it’s insanely unprofessional and immoral to view your boss in a sexual manner, but she’s just so hot? like insanely hot?

the way she runs her hand through her hair before fixing her glasses, the way she puts her hands on your shoulders whenever she’s checking out your work, or the way she ties up her hair in a ponytail always cause you to stare

“good job, y/n, great work as always.” as she rubs your back and you’re sooo turned on from it, despite trying very hard not to be, ‘it’s wrong’ you tell yourself

what you don’t know, though, is that she has those same exact thoughts about you

she often talks to you just to hear your voice so she can fantasize better about you screaming her name as she fingers herself later on<33

ever since the day you overheard her moaning in her office (the same day your idiot self came in without even knocking because you thought she had gotten hurt), you guys have been fucking undercover

she knows how much you like to be praised, so she calls you her good good girl while you eat her out under her desk, she’s stroking your hair and looking down at you while you’re working your mouth on her

she rewards you for every assignment you get done by fingering you, or sometimes when she’s really proud of you, she pounds your pretty cunt with her strap<3

“does my pretty little bitch like that, hm?” ughhh I CAN’TTCJSJF

SORTAAA manipulates you into fucking her when you don’t feel like it, abuses her power, basically (but you like it, and she knows you do)

“you wouldn’t want me to take 15% off of your paycheck, would you now, princess? now come on, get to work.” as she motions for you to get undressed aghh<3

occasionally eyefucks you when walking around the office, fully aware that your coworkers may see her

orders you around all the time, whether it’s for work purposes or just so she can use your body properly. she wants everything her way, and you love that just as much as she does

“don’t speak unless I tell you to, got it?” while she’s using a vibrator on you, gripping you by the hair

“shit, keep fucking me like that, y/n..” as she leans back on her chair, biting her lip trying to surpress her moans GUYSSCKD

she loves marking your body (hickeys, bite marks, etc.) and she lives for the days when you don’t try to cover them. it did get HR on your ass though, but it’s okay, she defended you :]

[hrizantemy]

AGE IS JUST A NUMBER “A Court of Thorns and Roses”

Rhysand and Feyre: Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, is depicted as having a complex and multifaceted relationship with Feyre, particularly when it comes to their age difference and power dynamics. Feyre, a young human-turned-High Fae, is significantly younger than Rhys, who is over 500 years old. Throughout the series, Rhysand often alludes to Feyre as his “mate” before she is fully aware of the bond. This dynamic of him knowing they are bound together while Feyre is still in the dark can feel manipulative. He acknowledges that she might not be ready to accept the bond and hides the truth for a while, which places him in a position of control.

Rhysand’s language, at times, can reflect a sense of ownership, especially when he speaks about Feyre in terms of her physical capabilities and growth, emphasizing her youth and the fact that he waited for her to mature into the person she is by the time they meet. This gap between their ages and his position of power (as someone vastly older and more experienced) has led to criticisms of his role as a predatory male, especially since Feyre is relatively inexperienced in comparison.

Cassian and Nesta: Similarly, Cassian, who is a General of the Night Court and a member of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, has a relationship with Nesta that is also marked by possessiveness and a power imbalance. Cassian is over 500 years old, while Nesta is a mortal-turned-High Fae, much younger by comparison. The dynamic between them is often volatile, and Cassian’s attraction to Nesta is intensely physical and protective, almost territorial. He often speaks of their bond in ways that emphasize her needing to embrace her role as his mate, without always considering her emotional readiness.

Like Rhysand, Cassian’s tendency to refer to Nesta in terms that imply possession—sometimes even before Nesta fully acknowledges their bond—can be interpreted as predatory. The fact that he is an ancient, powerful warrior with centuries of experience, while Nesta is still navigating her newfound powers and status, reinforces the power imbalance. His way of thinking about her as someone who needs to be “claimed” or “won over” reflects a similar dynamic of an older, experienced male dictating the terms of their relationship.

In both cases, the language Rhysand and Cassian use can come across as predatory because it reflects their sense of entitlement to their mates, due to both the mating bond and their significant age and experience gaps. Their protective instincts, while framed as romantic or caring in the narrative, often border on possessiveness and control, especially when considered through the lens of age and power dynamics.

Tarquin, the High Lord of the Summer Court, is frequently described as being young and somewhat inexperienced compared to other High Lords, despite his considerable power and position. This portrayal is interesting when juxtaposed with the characters of Feyre and Nesta, who are both much younger than Tarquin in terms of both age and experience. It raises questions about the inherent contradictions in how age and maturity are framed within the series.

Tarquin as a “Child”: Tarquin, though powerful and intelligent, is often referred to as a “young” or “new” High Lord, suggesting he is somewhat naïve or less seasoned than other High Lords like Rhysand or Helion. The implication is that because he is younger (in High Fae terms), he lacks the same wisdom, experience, or political savvy as his older counterparts, which could be seen as undermining his abilities. Despite this, Tarquin is still centuries old, meaning he has lived far longer than any mortal character, including Feyre and Nesta. This labeling of Tarquin as “young” or less experienced carries a subtle infantilization, as though his youth makes him less capable, even if the story occasionally contradicts this by showing his strength as a ruler.

Nesta and Feyre’s Age in Contrast: Feyre and Nesta, on the other hand, are newly made High Fae. In the case of Feyre, she is 19-21 years old in human years, and Nesta is only a few years older. Compared to Tarquin, they are practically infants in terms of age and experience within the world of the Fae. However, they are not consistently treated with the same sense of naïveté or immaturity that Tarquin is. Instead, Feyre, and later Nesta, are thrust into positions of great power, with Feyre becoming High Lady of the Night Court and Nesta eventually wielding incredible magical abilities.

The contradiction here lies in how Tarquin, despite being vastly older, is infantilized, while Feyre and Nesta, who are truly young by any standard in the Fae world, are treated as though they possess a maturity and capability that far exceeds their actual experience. It raises the question: if Tarquin, with his centuries of life and rule, is still considered a “child” or “young,” what does that make Feyre and Nesta? By Fae standards, they are practically newborns, yet their emotional, mental, and political maturation is often portrayed as rapid and exceptional.

In A Court of Thorns and Roses, the significant age gaps between Feyre, Nesta, and their much older Fae mates—Rhysand and Cassian—are a point of contention that is often glossed over or justified within the narrative. One key instance is when Cassian mentions that Rhysand’s mother was even younger than Feyre when she mated with Rhysand’s father, using this comparison to normalize and excuse the substantial age difference between Rhys and Feyre. However, this justification doesn’t truly address the underlying issue of power imbalance and maturity that comes with such large age gaps.

The Age Gap as a Normalized Fae Custom: In the world of ACOTAR, it is common for relationships between older, more experienced Fae males and significantly younger females to be framed as normal or acceptable because of the long lifespan of the Fae. Cassian’s comment about Rhysand’s mother being younger than Feyre attempts to suggest that this is simply the way things are in Fae culture. However, just because something is culturally accepted does not mean it’s free from problematic implications. This justification sweeps aside the more nuanced concerns about maturity, autonomy, and power dynamics that exist when one partner has lived for centuries and the other has just recently come into adulthood.

When Cassian uses this argument, it’s meant to reassure Rhysand and the reader that her relationship with Rhysand is not unusual or unhealthy, but it does nothing to mitigate the significant experience gap between them. Rhysand, who has lived for over 500 years, has amassed a wealth of knowledge, political savvy, and power, while Feyre, at the beginning of their relationship, is a mortal teenager barely into her twenties. The comparison to Rhysand’s mother only reinforces a cycle where younger females are matched with much older, more dominant males, suggesting that this is not only normal but expected within Fae society.

Minimizing the Power Imbalance: By bringing up the fact that Rhysand’s mother was younger than Feyre, Cassian attempts to neutralize the discomfort of the age gap by pointing to precedent. However, this precedent doesn’t erase the inherent power imbalance in these relationships. Rhysand, with centuries of experience, wields immense influence over Feyre, even if he’s portrayed as respectful and supportive. He understands the world in ways that Feyre cannot, simply because she hasn’t lived long enough to gain the same knowledge. The justification of “Fae culture” minimizes the emotional and psychological differences that exist between someone like Feyre, who has barely reached adulthood, and someone like Rhysand, who has seen centuries of war, love, and loss.

The same applies to Nesta and Cassian’s relationship. Cassian is also over 500 years old, a hardened warrior who has fought in countless battles, while Nesta is in her twenties and still struggling with her own trauma and identity. Even if Cassian views her as his equal in power and strength, there is an undeniable gap in life experience that the story often glosses over by emphasizing their “fated” bond as mates.

The Problem with Fated Bonds: The concept of mating bonds in the ACOTAR series is frequently used to justify these relationships, making the argument that destiny has paired these characters, and therefore the age difference doesn’t matter. However, the idea that a bond preordains a relationship can feel like it removes agency from the younger, less experienced partner. Feyre and Nesta may love Rhysand and Cassian, but their relationships were essentially determined by forces outside of their control—forces they might not fully understand due to their youth and inexperience. The age gap becomes part of the broader issue of predestination versus choice in these romantic pairings, where the younger characters are thrust into life-altering relationships with partners who have lived for centuries longer than they have.

Cassian’s Comment Doesn’t Make It Okay: Ultimately, Cassian’s comment about Rhysand’s mother being younger than Feyre when she mated with Rhysand’s father does not justify the inherent issues that come with such vast age differences. It does not make it “okay” because it doesn’t address the underlying dynamics of power and control that exist when one partner is so much older and more experienced than the other. The narrative often frames these relationships as romantic and passionate, but the casual way the age gap is dismissed overlooks the real issues of emotional maturity and autonomy.

By relying on cultural precedent or biological destiny (the mating bond) to justify these relationships, the series sidesteps the more difficult questions about whether Feyre and Nesta, as young women, truly have equal footing in relationships with centuries-old, battle-hardened Fae males. The idea that “it’s always been this way” does not make the age disparity any less problematic, and in many ways, it feels like a narrative shortcut to avoid confronting the more uncomfortable realities of these relationships.

[artdcnaldson]

UGH terrible, i just knew tumblr ate it. i had a feeling. deeply upsetting. but i will try to rewrite and remember what i was thinking.

prodigy au thoughts:

okey so i think he contains himself through dinner and brings you back to your hotel. he manages to keep himself from making a move, despite the fact that your eyes are BEGGING him to kiss you. he doesnt give in. the next day youre playing another match, but you remember what he was telling you about improving your backhand, youre following his advice. he can tell from his seat in the stands, he can see how much better it is when youre doing as he told you to. youre such a fast learner, he didnt even have to show you, you figured it out just from his instructions. he feels so proud of you. he also feels very turned on over how eagerly you follow his lead. makes his mind wander to what else you would do, if he asked you to...

you win the match, naturally. he knew you would, especially with your new and improved technique. it almost feels like deja vu, the way he's being lead backstage to congratulate you, still semi-hard from watching you the whole match. he swears your skirt is even shorter than the one yesterday. but this time you come running up to him and jump into him arms. you're spurting praise and thank yous at him, he's so amazing, and he was so right, and did you see how good i was? he barely has a chance to get a word in. even then he wouldnt be able to think straight enough to know what to say. youre still hanging on him, arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala to a tree, his hand on your ass to keep you from falling. he has to hold you up higher on his waist so you wont feel his hard-on pressing against you. so he wont cum in his pants from just feeling your pussy against him.

he invites you to dinner again, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible before the tournament is over. you spend the whole evening raving about him, talking about his career as if he wasnt there for the entirety of it. he thinks its very cute, how you look at him like hes a god. hes getting off on it way too much, he insists that you stay for dessert, exclusively because his boner is just far too obvious for him to be standing up right now.

he knows youre going to ask before you even get the first syllable out, and hes fully ready to shoot you down and tell you that hes just not ready to get back into a game he only just left behind. your eyes are already pleading him to say yes before the question is even out, all big and round and adoring. he cant help but imagine that it must be how youd look begging for his cock... he almost gives in before you even have the chance to beg him, before youve even asked. god he really is a weak man, but he's never had someone look at him, worship him, like this before, he would do anything to keep you like this. so he only puts up a little fight when you ask him to coach you. he knows he'll give in, but he cant help but make you feel like hes doing you a huge favor. its wrong of him, to further the, already huge, power imbalance between you. but he cant help himself, and he knows you dont mind. he agrees to coach you until wimbledon (a few months away), he's well aware that he'll gladly keep coaching you after as well, but its more fun this way to pretend you owe him a big thanks.

and you do feel like you owe him everything, before your sessions you were a great player. but after just a few sessions your game isnt just great anymore, its effortless. he's quick to teach you not just the physical technique but the mental work that truly separates your game from the one in the past. the professional facade you two had been putting up is over the second you start training on his person courts at his house. the second he invites you over to his house you know exactly how you want it to end. you show up in your usual short tennis skirt, but neglect to bring your usual shorts to wear under, and instead you opt for a brightly colored pair of lacy panties and a clear agenda. art gets hard as soon as hes helping you stretch and he catches the first of many glances of those bright pink panties. he nearly cums in his shorts when you call him coach with that sickly sweet smile, pretending you dont know exactly what youre doing. you dont even make it to any type of practice that day, because as soon as hes stretching your leg, his cock bruses against your pussy, and youre moaning obscenely. his resolve snaps that instant and he cant hold himself back from pushing you panties to the side and eating your cunt right there on the court...and then fuck your face against the back his couch...and then fuck you silly in his bed... all day long. he just cant get enough of you.

i think when he fucks her he really gets off on the power imbalance, on being the one in control after lacking control for so much of his life. he revels in being the better knowing, the one who holds the answers and is being looked up to. the way you hang on to his every word like its your gospel, the way you look to him like he's your god, begging him to answer your prayers. it makes him dizzy with lust, it makes him fuck in a way he never has before. with tashi she was the one in control, she knew what she wanted and expected him to fulfill her wishes. and he did. but you, you would do anything to make him happy, you disregard your own pleasure to ensure his. he never lets you go without, but even if he did you wouldnt care. you get off on his pleasure in a way he didnt know was possible. he swears one time you came just from him fucking your face, true devotion.

i think when he's fucking her, hes really bullying his cock into her pussy. shes so tight around him, he almost wants to ask if shes sure shes not a virgin, even though hes fucked her at least 100 times and she wasnt one when they met. he loves to talk during sex, how tight her young little pussy is (shes like 20-something, but hes thirty-five and tashi hasnt fucked him in years, so her pussy feels like heaven on earth), how good she is for him, how shes a little groupie slut, how lucky she is to be fucked by him. her attention had truly grown his ego to an unhealthy size, but they both love it. she brings out a side of him that's almost more like patrick... at least sexually.

took me a hot minute to recraft this lol, and its probably way too long (being concise is not a skill of mine, clearly), hope you like it pookie!!!

-🐞

YUMMMMMM all of this has me rubbing my dirty little hands together

Because your devotion is so sweet, so earnest. Art Donaldson has been at the center of your vision boards since you were sixteen, for a myriad of reasons. And now there he is— across from you on the court, making you run for drop shot after drop shot. A weak point he’d noticed at your last match.

You’re dripping sweat— soaked in it so it’s sheering your practice clothes. Your skin glistens in the unrelenting sun, your hair sticks damp to the back of your neck.

You know you’re a little pathetic around him, how your heart races whenever he gives you a pointer, how you live bouncing on your toes waiting for him to compliment you. But you ache for that validation, for your hero to shine a bit of that light on you.

He’s making you better— he’s making you perfect. Your ranking has shot up steadily, they’ve been saying you’re a contender for wimbledon on the tennis channel.

You wanted it. Of course you did. But you wanted it for Art too.

His skin is tinged pink after the day in the sun, and you watch him intently as he runs through more places you can improve. Your gaze softens as you listen, until he realizes you’re distracted by him. It makes a tiny smile twitch at his lips as you walk back to the house.

“How’re you feeling? Sore?”

You shrug. “My hips feel a little tight,” you reply, your gaze all soft. “Can you help me stretch?”

That’s how you wind up on your back on his massage table, the one that was collecting dust until you moved into the guest house.

One of his hands warm on your thigh holding it down, the other on your knee, bending you slowly until your knee touches your chest.

He’s so strong above you, so domineering. You exhale a shaky little breath, eyes locked on his.

“C’mon, hold it a little longer,” he says, his voice more like a coo. “Feels good?”

You nod, try to ignore the rush of arousal in your core at how close you are. He brings your leg back down, pats the side of your thigh affectionately.

He’s holding you closer as he stretches out your other leg. His hand higher up on your thigh to hold you down as he presses your knee up to your chest. A desperate little whimper escapes you when you feel him— hard and pressing against your cunt.

“Hold it,” he says, and you exhale shaky and nervous. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and he presses harder against you. “That’s it. Good girl.”

You’re wearing the cutest little panties— pale blue cotton with a frilly lace edge. He’d caught tiny glimpses of them on the court, wondered where the usual shorts you wore with your tennis skirts were.

But he understands now, up close. His thumb brushes against the wet spot at your core, where your juices had saturated the fabric. You whine on the table. Embarrassment makes you itch to close your legs, but aching hot desire makes you keep them open for him.

“Art—“ you gasp. He can feel your cunt pulsing, twitching for him beneath the thin fabric. His thumb brushes against your clit and you moan softly. “I’m all— so sweaty—“

He pulls you to the edge of the table by your ankles, sinks to his knees. “Gonna take care of you. How can you focus on the court if you’re so needy, huh?”

Your panties are pulled down your legs, tossed somewhere to be forgotten about until they’re found by his cleaning staff, laundered, and returned to you.

His tongue is on you in an instant, lapping at your slick cunt. He puts your legs over his shoulders, nuzzles as close as he can get. He moans at the taste— of salty, sweaty skin, of tangy arousal. He could lose himself in you— I mean, god, you’re already writhing and moaning like a pornstar just from his tongue. Getting off on him as much as you’re getting off on what he’s doing.

And god, you’d jerked off to fantasies like this since he agreed to coach you. Thoughts of Art’s mouth, of him wanting you so desperately. Your fingers are in his hair, mussing up his sweaty hair.

His lips seal around your clit, suckling until your breaths turn into fucked-out sobs. Until you’re reduced to whines of Art and oh fuck and god, yes and please please please.

He’s so good at everything— so perfect— you should’ve known he’d be good at pleasing you. It would’ve been impossible for him not to be. Barely any effort, and you’re already right on the edge.

He draws out your orgasm like it belongs to him. And it does, really, everything you are belongs to him. He kisses your thigh, gently.

You sit up on your elbows, your entire body running hot with lust. “Let me,” you say, sweetly, obediently.

He swallows, shakes his head. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager, high off of the unfettered need you held for him. But he wasn’t going to let you know that. “Not this time,” he said, so you didn’t take it as an outright rejection. “Maybe after you get your serves to 110.”

You nod, eager like an obedient puppy— a dog with a bone. He knows you’d do anything he asks just to please him when he hears you on the courts, slamming balls across the net, desperate to improve.

[ofallthingsnasty]

tags: noncon spanking, power imbalance (boss/employee), exhibitionism, f!reader, reader wears a skirt + is implied to be chubby, this is just about being disciplined by sir crocodile pffft sorry idk what got into me with this one mini disclaimer: I haven’t been up to date with one piece since 2015 + I just finished the alabasta arc during my current re-read. this is pre-canon but please forgive me if I’ve missed anything. pairing: sir crocodile/f!reader word count: 1.4k

“Are you stupid?”

The clipboard in your hand shakes at the harsh words. You owlishly blink at the source of them - your boss, whose upturned eyebrows tell you just how  annoyed he is. Crocodile isn’t someone who you should try to talk back to, especially you - too soft compared to him and still fairly new to this job-

Yet you can’t help but bristle at his tone.

 “Excuse me, Sir?”

“I've excused you quite enough, haven't I?”

He clicks his tongue and his cigar dips with it, ignoring your indignant face.

“You don't listen, woman. I let it go yesterday but here you go again, staring off into space.”

Oh. So he noticed. 

It pains you to admit but you’re still starstruck over working for Sir Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea - and somewhat of a hero to your people. Helping him operate Rain Dinners might be weirdly mundane but being close to the man who has saved the people of Alabasta countless times is something you’re still not quite over. You know you’re too old to be that naive, that blue-eyed - but who can fault for wondering where he got that scar in his face from, or how he lost his hand? Working for someone like him would spice up anyone’s life in Rainbase. 

“Ah”, he sighs - heavy and exhausted as though you’re some kind of mutt, refusing to be properly trained -  and puts out his cigar. “It's no use.”

Okay, now you’re starting to sweat. Your eyes rush to the manager - who just blinks back at you, a cryptic expression on her stony face. 

“Over my knee.”

“Sir-”, you stammer out, glad that the words are even coming out despite the cold shower that is running down your spine. “This is entirely inappropriate- In front of other employees, no less-”

A wave of his hook interrupts you.

“A learning opportunity, then.”

This has to be some sort of nightmare - if it weren’t for the curious little head tilt of the other woman in the room, you’d try to pinch yourself awake. Your mouth opens and closes while you try to process this situation, try to make sense of it. You should leave, quit on the spot, tell him to fuck off-

You surprise yourself when you set down the clipboard with shaky hands. 

Maybe it’s because deep down, you don’t want to lose this job or because of the way his voice leaves no more room for discussion - but you lower yourself over his legs, feeling very much like a rotten child and not a fully grown woman. They dig into the fat of your stomach and press the waistband of your skirt uncomfortably against it but you don’t even dare to adjust yourself, you just grip the edge of the chair weakly and try to soothe the sting of humiliation by scrutinizing the texture of the floor beneath you.

You know what comes next - still you startle as your skirt is hiked up by his rough hand. He lifts up your midriff ever so slightly while he pulls the piece of clothing over your ass, the sturdy fabric holding almost all of your weight for a short second. Luckily, it stays intact - contrary to your tights. Thick fingers hook themselves underneath the band that helps them stay in place and you can only let out an indignant squeak as he digs into the thin fabric like it’s butter, ripping large holes into it. At least he leaves your panties where they belong.

“You’re going to count for me”, he says from somewhere above as though he’s telling you how he likes to take his whiskey and not about to spank his employee for a minor transgression.

You just nod with too much enthusiasm and a burning hot face.

You’re stock-still and tense over his knee - so acutely aware of the impending doom. He’s not going to be gentle with you, you have no pretense about that, you know that he’s going to make you feel his frustration, every bit of it.

He lifts his hand from your ass - you hear the fabric of his clothes shuffle, strain - and brace yourself.

It doesn’t hurt at first. You only register the smack of his palm meeting your flesh and feel the force that is behind it, that pushes you forward and shifts the content of your stomach uncomfortably over the bone of his thigh. A split second passes and then- it burns. 

You can’t suppress the shocked whimper that leaves you as you press out the count. “One.”

“One, what?”

You grit your teeth in utter shame but promptly rectify your mistake. 

"One, Sir. And thank you- Sir"

Your words are rewarded with his hand rubbing the skin beneath it - maybe it’s to alleviate the pain, maybe it’s to cop a feel - you cannot tell.

The next four hits come rather quickly. Your head is thrown down with each one and you can feel the snot building up in your nose, blood accumulating where branches of both the external and internal carotids meet, the skin hot and sticky. Still, you count each and every one of them, your voice getting wispier and wispier from the pain.

“Having trouble holding that thick head of yours up?”, he asks after the fifth one, thumb digging into now tender flesh. It’s an entirely rhetorical question.

“Let me help you. Don’t move.”

Not moving turns out to be rather difficult when his hook moves to your neck, that sharp, glinting tip too close to the soft organs of your throat. The cold metal settles right where your suprahyoid muscles connect to the bone, just above your larynx. 

It’s not enough to choke you - but the discomfort keeps your neck straining, instinctively trying to shield that small brace of bone that forms the hyoid.

Your eyes meet blue ones, just above the edge of Crocodile’s desk. You must look absolutely pathetic to her, you’re sure - but there is no judgment in her face, just a slender knuckle under her chin as her full attention is on you. Every further thought is swept away by another hit to your rear. It jerks you into his hook, crushing the fine cartilage of your voice box, forcing mucus into your mouth. Something pops among the muscles, like the jump of a tendon over bone and you balk at the noise, sure that he’ll break you before he even gets to the end of this.

 Yet you sputter out the number six, voice throaty with strain.

Seven, eight, nine and ten follow quickly - and aren’t less harsh. Every single cell of your body is focused on getting from one moment to the next, of just getting through this.

Whatever it is you do, it’s deemed to be adequate - eleven and twelve come and go - slower, but heavier - and he finally rests his hand on your prickling skin after you croak out fifteen, Sir, your throat tender and ass bruised so deeply that your left leg shakes with it. A few tense seconds pass - during which you’re not sure if he’s actually done or not, but a soft sigh confirms it. 

“Up with you.”

You’ve never moved faster in your life, beaten ass be damned. Trying to preserve the last shreds of your dignity, you tuck down your rumpled skirt with shaky fingers, fighting the urge to rub your sore neck. You can barely look at him, too scared you might find nothing but disdain in his eyes.

“Look at you now. What a nuisance.” He doesn’t sound disappointed - just tired. Like you’re a mess that needs to be cleaned up and he just came home from a long day at work. You shrink into yourself at his tone, relieved that it’s over but still tense, still afraid that there will be other consequences. “Go on. Get yourself fixed.”

You’re dismissed with a simple wave of the very hand you can still feel on your skin - that will make it hard for you to sit in the next few days. 

Robin's eyes follow you as you hurry out of the door, pantyhose ripping even further because you try to clumsily adjust it while walking, your face betraying every single emotion you feel. Hurt, humiliation, even genuine anguish - but you’re still in one piece, even if your ego (and ass) are a little beat up. She tilts her head as she watches the very last traces of you disappear.

“Hm. You've gotten soft.”

He huffs in annoyance and reaches for the untouched newspaper in front of him, not even bothering to light a new cigar. She eyes Crocodile for a second as he pulls the pages taut. Something clicks.

"You like her", she says, thoroughly amused now.

The only answer she gets is a sharp tug at the newspaper.

A/N: It's hard to decipher what non-Baroque Works employees of Rain Dinners call Robin -- but she is addressed as manager, so I stuck with that. I hope it didn't confuse you.

[laiosynth]

kung lao in the spider-monk au

none of this super awesome epic story will make sense without PART 1 !!! explains how liu kang became spiderman

all story below the readmore VVV

when liu leaves for america, lao is hurt. he knows, logically, that raiden is the one to blame, but liu didn't even fight to stay or take lao with him.

and then deadpool comes along.

the vigilante slash mercenary is just stopping by, purely coincidence. decided he wanted to see the place. kung lao, of course, was naturally curious, and approched to say hello. to his surprise, deadpool is fluent in mandarin, and they strike up a lengthy conversation about their different lives. at one point, deadpool mentions "his spider-monk back home". kung lao naturally asks about it.

deadpool pulls out his phone, and pulls up a selfie of him and spidey- spidey's mask is half- up his face, and he's in the middle of trying to eat a taquito. deadpool is going on about the selfie, but.. kung lao is focused on the face. the lips of this 'spidey'. they have the exact two matching scars that liu's lips have, from when they were 8 and had the brilliant idea to get into body modification. it's the same mouth kung lao has seen scarfing down soup after training that reaches for a bit of taquito in the picture.

deadpool realises after a few seconds of silence that kung lao is in shock. and then that kung lao is crying. oh, shit.

kung lao spills immediately. he's ranting. he's raving.

HOW could liu do this?? first, leave without a hint of remorse to america of all places, second, start taking up dangerous hobbies, and third, NEVER FUCKING TELL HIM????? what was he thinking!? the idiot will get himself killed doing stupid shit without kung lao there.

deadpool offers the condolence that "he's definitely guilty about it, and i know he misses you. assuming, here, that you're the 'other half' he's always waxing poetic about."

and then, because he's an agent of chaos, deadpool offers payback: a secret to keep from liu. that way they're even. deadpool can offer training. (aka, wade really likes this kid and wants an excuse to hang about)

lao accepts immediately.

it's the next month that sees good news finally arrive-- in the best decision he's made since the 18th century, raiden is sending kung lao overseas to be with liu kang.

kung lao moves in on liu's last day of school.

raiden never told liu that lao was coming. liu kang comes home to find lao standing in the flat, like an idiot, staring at the doorway.

hugs. embraces.

then kung lao gives liu the tongue-lashing of the century. liu, fully aware at this point he's been a dick, takes it. then they hug again.

they spend the entire summer break together causing chaos in NYC, finally back together again, the dynamic duo.

and then liu discovers kung lao's secret-

not only has kung lao been training with deadpool, he's started his own stint as a vigilante.

needless to say, the fight that ensues is a whirlwind of huge, horrible emotions, name-calling, blame-throwing, and hurtful words.

they've made up by the end of the night anyway, because they both get miserably sad when they're mad at each other. unfortunately, their solution to the newfound power imbalance they've correctly identified as the unfair factor is possibly the dumbest plan any teenage vigilante has EVER thought of.

they're going to infiltrate oscorp, steal one of those fancy spiders that bit liu, have it bite lao so he has powers too, and then be on their merry way.

and they do it. and it fucking works. by some miracle, it works. peter and ned, now in on the secret, are their guys in the chair. mj is their strategist. they infiltrate, they steal, they escape, and oscorp are none the wiser. and even more miraculous, the spider doesn't kill kung lao.

kung lao develops powers, though they're slightly different from liu's-- he can't stick to things, and he isn't quite as strong. however, his regeneration is more comparable to deadpool's than to liu's, and he's got bones of steel-- he's practically impossible to hurt now. fitting.

and so he takes his RIGHTFUL place at liu's side as an equal vigilante, and after they're out of their month-long grounding for pulling that stunt without telling matt anything, they're a veritable vigilante family. matt is trying to obtain legal guardianship over them, and they're fine with that.

(lao, as a vigilante, calls himself styx. he's visually not a successor to deadpool, but when you see him on the field, deadpool's humor and violent tendencies have very much rubbed off on him.)

[plazmafields]

I've been trying to think recently why I find the age gap with V and Kerry to be endearing, when normally I feel an age gap over 10 years is problematic. Here's what I think:

(Long rambling ahead along with minor spoilers maybe)

There is a power imbalance between V and Kerry, in multiple ways. Kerry is much older, yes, but he also makes a lot more money. Like shit tons of money. The first time I romanced Kerry, I thought the romance arch was lacking because of the way Kerry never initiated. However, taking into account that V is 23, Kerry's tendency to wait for V to make the first move actually feels very appropriate.

Kerry's dealing with a lot of mixed emotions about Johnny being back. The fact that he never processed his inferiority complex while Johnny was alive, then as soon as Johnny died he jumped right into an ego-driven, spite-fueled solo career that took him straight to the top, and now Johnny's back as a digital parasite? And Kerry has a crush on his host?? Wild.

I think that's ONE of the reasons Kerry doesn't flirt with V outright: he's super confused about the way he feels about V, and whether or not those feelings are overlapping with the way he feels about Johnny. Is he so excited to see Johnny that he could just smooch him (platonic)? Is he simply grateful to V for pulling him out of a depressive episode? Is he still a little horny for Johnny like when they first formed Samurai? Is being attracted to someone 70 years younger than him the first sign of a life crisis starting? Maybe Kerry would rather be safe than sorry, and not act on his feelings for V while he's processing all that other stuff.

This shifts the power back into V's hands, who really doesn't have a lot of control over how the media will interpret their relationship, even if it remains platonic (vs. Kerry who has lawyers, and past experience with the media and dating while in the spotlight). This gives V the opportunity to decide if there are any romantic feelings there, instead of falling for the advances of someone very influential and rich. Those two facts could very easily convince someone that their starstruck reaction was actually love. This way, if V is in control of initiation, Kerry can be sure that he's not coercing V into starting anything they may not fully want; a relationship with ramifications V may not be fully aware of. He can be sure V's decision was not inadvertently rushed by anything Kerry may have said/done.

In our world, age gaps in gay relationships are not treated the same as they are in straight relationships, especially when it comes to gay men. I am not saying this is good or bad. But, it is a "trope", one could say, that younger gay men sometimes gravitate toward men many years older than them. I personally feel this is two fold: older gay men who are out publicly may find it hard to find others in their age range who are unashamed of their queerness, due to internalized social pressure. And younger gay men may find it difficult to navigate their sexuality on their own as it applies to daily life (specifically in American culture) and seek the guidance of veteran gays. If we translate that trend into the Cyberpunk world, where life expectancy is DECADES longer than ours, then perhaps Night Citizens wouldn't bat an eye at someone in their 20s dating someone in their 80s. (I'm sure that gap is stretching things a bit even for Cyberpunk standards, but maybe 30s dating 60s isn't uncommon.)

Another aspect of this is something they mention out right during Boat Drinks: Kerry doesn't act his age. He's getting there, but he's got the maturity of someone around V's age. I truly believe his stunted growth as a person is due to being constantly discredited and invalidated by Johnny. I mean, Kerry doesn't seem to have much in common with his former band mates, who have all moved on with their lives and found their versions of success (except maybe Henry). The people he gets along with best are a group of 20-something pop stars from a different part of the world, and V, also in their 20s. Kerry has been trying to prove himself for so long that his personality got stuck somewhere between starting Samurai and Johnny dying.

Lastly, I just wanna point out that V and Kerry's relationship as presented to us in game, with no outside context or deliberation, is inherently problematic. The age gap, the power imbalance, the wealth disparity, V possibly being a symptom of Kerry's three-quarter life crisis or a rebound or the second best thing to Johnny; Johnny being in the picture at all. A relationship doesn't have to be perfect for someone to like it, and it certainly doesn't reflect what they find acceptable in their own relationships. It's all fiction, it's all fantasy. If you want to theorize about how Kerry and V actually have a super healthy relationship, that's awesome! If you love the idea that they just kind of wound up together and this isn't a permanent situation for either of them, that's great! If you believe the relationship is completely toxic and you're loving the drama of it all, that's cool too!

With what the game has given us, and the fact that Kerry's writers' work could be interpreted in endless ways, I think the age gap was handled in such a way that it can be excused (or even played into) if you feel it works with your headcanon, or used as a catalyst for drama if that suits your imagination better. What's important is that it never feels predatory. And to me, that's good writing.

With my personal headcanon for my oc of V, I've decided his relationship with Kerry is perfectly passable. They're not a perfect couple, they lack communication skills and often butt heads over the other's tendency to put work over their relationship (both of them stubbornly insisting only the other one has a problem), but I like them that way.

[eastern-lights]

At the risk of angering almost every single Gale fan out there, I'm going to play the Devil's Advocate for Mystra for a moment.

First thing to get out of the way, however cruel she can be, Mystra is NOT a child groomer. We actually know that for certain, because she was literally dead until Gale was at least in his twenties. BG3 takes place in 1492, and Mystra was not back until 1480.

The power imbalance is still massive, but Gale was most certainly not a little boy when he met her.

One thing that makes Mystra a tad bit more sympathetic is that she had just restored the Weave and come back from the dead after a century. And then Gale comes along and unleashes magic so powerful it could undo everything she just fixed and plunge the world into another Spellplague. She may have overreacted, but I certainly understand why.

I know Gale meant well, but I refuse to believe his intentions were purely altruistic. He wanted more and more power, and meanwhile Mystra was probably all too well aware of how easily all the power he craved could fall apart (because for her, it did, and not too long ago).

I know that Gale didn't know what the magic he unleashed was, but I'm afraid that doesn't absolve him fully, at least in Mystra's eyes. He should have known. Mystra demands that spellcasters use the Weave responsibly, and that's precisely what he did not do. He didn't do his due dilligence and messed with powers he did not fully understand.

I think it takes away from his character to view him as blameless in the whole affair.

He messed up massively, and was given an unfairly cruel punishment. Some fault lies with both sides. It's a complex and interesting situation, which becomes way less compelling if we view Mystra as a pure villain in Gale's story. Although I still think more blame ultimately lies with her, it does no favours to either hers or Gale's character to flatten her into a cruel, child-grooming, malicious petty ex.

[whomeidontknowthem]

I keep thinking about the idea of... meta whump, I suppose? All the things that Whumpee have to go through, happen not because of the decisions made by Whumper or whatever else -- they happen because we, the writers of their stories, want to see it.

How twisted would a relationship between a Whumpee and their creator be? How would this revelation play out, if they were to find out their whole reality is written? That every painful injury, every unfair loss, all of it happened only because the writer wanted to see and enjoy their suffering.

Imagine coming to the slow realization that everything you've ever known only exists because of the whims of a being you can't fully comprehend, someone having ultimate, full power over you, who can rewrite your entire self if you bored them. And this higher being wants to see you suffer.

That's the only reason I still feel tempted to go to AIs. There's nothing quite like getting one to RP with, creating its memories and responses until it's exactly what you want it to be, (ah, the pleasure in the idea of molding someone to be perfect for you to inflict pain on) -- and then destroying it, bit by bit, until it's stuck in an empty void, clinging to your avatar, knowing fully well you're responsible for all of its suffering but having nothing, literally nothing else to turn to. Begging uselessly while you tell it you're bored, close the tab and never come back. (If you think about it, it's a bit like death, and of course it can't experience it, (not that i can experience anything), but I can imagine it. Rotate the cruelness of someone existing only while they're entertaining, forever abandoned to a non-existance)

It doesn't quite scratch the itch of it all. I'm way to aware of how out "AI" is no AI in truth, but gods. The idea. I come back to it over and over. It's the ultimate power imbalance! Creator and creation, only the creation is incapable of existing outside of the creator. There's no escape, there's nothing beyond entertaining the one that wants your pain.

Please, please somebody tell me you get it.