#but it's just too humiliating and full of drama for me

[horoscope1078]

:)

Oscar prided himself on being calm, collected, and unshakable on the racetrack. He wasn’t the type to scream in frustration, throw controllers, or engage in unnecessary drama. Until he played F1 23 with his girlfriend, you.

"Ok, are you ready to lose?" you teased, wiggling your eyebrows as you selected your car.

Oscar scoffed. "Lose? Me? Babe, I do this for a living."

You smirked. "Yea yea, whatever. I’ve seen you spin out in real life before. Who’s to say you won’t do it here too?"

Oscar narrowed his eyes. "Alright. No more Mr. Nice Piastri."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Please, you’ll go easy on me because you love me."

Oscar simply smirked. You were in for a rude awakening.

The race started, and Oscar was immediately in full race mode. His entire posture shifted, he leaned forward, jaw clenched, eyes laser-focused on the screen.

You, on the other hand, was laughing as you attempted to steer properly. "Wait, how do I turn again- OH MY GOD, THE WALL!"

Oscar barely spared you a glance. "Rookie mistake."

"ROOKIE?" you shrieked. "Oscar, I barely know how to use the brakes!"

"Not my problem." he replied coolly, overtaking you effortlessly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Oh, it’s on, Piastri."

At first, you tried to play fair. But after seeing Oscar effortlessly pull a two-second gap, you resorted to alternative methods.

"Oops..." you said sweetly as you accidentally nudged his car.

Oscar’s eyes widened. "Did you just- DID YOU JUST TOUCH ME?"

You giggled. "Oopsie-daisy!"

Oscar gasped like you had personally insulted his entire McLaren team. "That was dirty driving!"

You shrugged. "Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were having fun."

Oscar’s jaw clenched. "Alright. No mercy."

You, having miraculously figured out the controls, was somehow keeping up with Oscar.

You cackled. "I’m right behind you!"

Oscar glanced at the screen and saw your car dangerously close. His grip on the controller tightened. "Stay back."

"Nope."

"Stay back."

You floored it, attempting to overtake. Oscar saw red. He aggressively defended his position, blocking your every move.

"ARE YOU ACTUALLY DEFENDING AGAINST ME?" you shrieked.

"YES!" Oscar yelled back.

You burst out laughing. "OSCAR, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME!"

"I do! But I also love winning!"

Your fingers mashed the buttons wildly as you somehow found yourself side-by-side with Oscar.

"This is it." you whispered. "The greatest moment of my life."

Oscar’s eye twitched. "Not happening."

In his desperation, he took the turn too aggressively and... spin. Oscar gasped in horror as his car suddenly lost control and spun out.

You, completely fine, zoomed past him.

There was a brief silence. Then "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

Oscar sat there, gripping his controller so hard it might snap. "I… I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS."

You wiped away a fake tear. "Oh my god, I wish I had a camera to capture this moment."

Oscar’s face was completely blank. "You did this."

You smirked. "Maybe I manifested it."

Oscar exhaled sharply. "You just signed your death sentence."

Oscar was now in full attack mode. He overtook aggressively, braked late, and blocked every possible move you tried.

But somehow, you held yourself.

"This is ridiculous." Oscar muttered. "How are you still ahead?"

You giggled. "Maybe I’m just naturally talented."

Oscar scoffed. "You literally crashed into a wall five laps ago!"

"Growth, Oscar. It’s called growth."

He rolled his eyes, focusing as you reached the final straight. This was it. Victory or eternal humiliation.

Oscar floored it, barely inching ahead. And then... his controller suddenly disconnected.

Oscar’s eyes went wide. "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!"

But it was too late. You flew past him and crossed the finish line first. There was a beat of silence. Then, you screamed in victory.

"I WON! I ACTUALLY WON!"

Oscar slowly turned to you, his face blank. "My controller disconnected."

You shrugged. "Sounds like a skill issue."

Oscar gasped so dramatically that you nearly fell off the couch laughing. "DID YOU JUST-"

"Skill issue." you repeated smugly.

Oscar groaned, flopping back against the couch. "This is the worst day of my life."

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I think it’s the best day of mine."

Oscar let out a deep sigh before narrowing his eyes. "Alright, best two out of three."

You burst out laughing. "Oscar, we’ve been playing for two hours!"

"And we’ll play until justice is served." Oscar declared dramatically.

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "You’re so competitive, it’s adorable."

Oscar grumbled but didn’t deny it. He glanced at you, his features softening. "You know I love you, right?"

You grinned. "Yea. But you still lost."

Oscar groaned. "Why do I even like you?"

You giggled. "Because I keep you humble."

Oscar sighed, staring at the screen. "You do realise I’m going to train you until you race like an actual F1 driver, right?"

You smirked. "Bring it on, Piastri."

And with that, the most intense rematch of all time began.

[hotchocolatelovesyou]

I'm replaying Season 2 and I'm trying to be a bitch and to NOT end up with Bobby but I feel bad even by just picking the neutral choice and I love him too much to stay away 😭😭😭

[milkyplier]

Regret, or close call, for the ask game? :D

Wind is trying to dump Sriracha’s feed in his bucket when he hears the squealing and the sound of hooves. He whips his head around and sees Sriracha backing right towards him, fast and agitated, and he knows he should move but the terror freezes him in place.

At the last moment, Sriracha swings his rear away from Wind and then calms down, at least for the moment, and Wind is quick to get out of his stall. Heart racing, hands shaking, he thinks about what a close call that was.

Shame wells up in his chest, choking him with tears. His face burns, the still-full bucket of feed he’s carrying feels heavy.

I froze, I could have died, I should have moved, that was terrifying.

The thoughts all run through his head at a million miles per hour. He’s ashamed at how scared he is, but he can’t help how scared he is. Sriracha is big, and even as underweight as he is, he’s still a powerful horse and Wind is a small person. Wind feels he wasn’t nearly responsive enough, aware enough to have kept the situation from escalating to that point, or keeping his head when it did.

Finally, the dread settles in. His fingers sting where the bucket’s raw metal handle rests on them: he still has to feed Sriracha.

[gothicgaycowboy]

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.

𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋

Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.

It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.

After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.

Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”

Now that caught your attention.

Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.

Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.

“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.

“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”

For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?

After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.

“What was all that about?”

He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”

“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”

A knowing smirk crossed the​ Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”

It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.

“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”

Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.

The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”

your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”

“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”

Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.

It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.

This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.

All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?

Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.

From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?

“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.

“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.

The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.

A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.

“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.

“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.

It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”

“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.

“Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”

Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.

“I do.” Thank fuck.

Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”

His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.

“Yes you understand who?”

A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”

“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.

As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”

“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”

“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”

From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”

Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.

“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”

“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”

“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.

You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.

As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.

You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.

“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.

“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.

“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.

“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.

Bzzz…

Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”

“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.

The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.

“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.

Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.

Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.

You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.

The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.

“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).

Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.

“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”

He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.

“You have to address me properly.”

“Anything for you ma’am.”

“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.

“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.

You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.

“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”

“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.

You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.

“Jesus—Christ!”

You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”

“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.

“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.

The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.

Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.

“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.

You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.

You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”

You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

[loveemagicpeace]

🥃Astrological Things☁️🥥

🎨Fire signs are full of passion and life and everything they do involves passion. And they don't like being with people who are too serious and down to earth. They always say "okay lets do this". They love to do things and are there for all the drama and action and will always do crazy things with you.

🍬Mercury in Aries are very honest and straightforward. With them, you will always know where you are and what is happening. Everything you ask them, you will get a direct answer. They seem to me to be the most sincere and true with words.

🌙You will feel most comfortable and familiar with people with which you have 4th house synastry. With these you will feel the warmth and feel as if they will always be there for you. You'll feel like they've known you forever. You can feel this with your friends as if they were your brothers or sisters. It's home vibes so u two can be homies or family. Your family can look at them as part of the family. I think this is very beautiful synastry for relationships & friendships.

🫧Pluto in the 1st house - in the early period of your life you will face many trials. Many people may put you down or not treat you well. Many times I have noticed that they experience contempt from people or people humiliate them. Their early life can be quite difficult - they can attract many people who are jealous of them and wish them ill. You achieve strength later in life. But you transform yourself throughout your life and become an ever stronger person.

✨The difference between capricorn rising and scorpio rising is that capricorns will always get respect. What is one thing i have noticed that no matter what - they always get the respect of others and will always want to be respected. You will make an impression on other people with your silence. You're not going to do anything and you're just going to kill people with your looks. Your energy is very strong. Scorpios, however, want power, and with that they can go through anything to achieve it. Many times their energy can be too intense and tense. A lot of times they do something related to intimacy. Scoprio rising - intimate areas, sexuality..mc leo - sex, playfulness, visibility. Scorpio wants power & Capricorn wants respect.

🔥Mars in 1st house & Mars in 12th house - the difference is that someone who has Mars in the 1st house comes forward angry, aggressive, scary. But he is aware of his anger, which means that whatever he does, he is aware of his limits and how far he can go. Mars in the 12th house, on the other hand, hides its anger and anger manifests itself in many ways. These people can be much more scary and dangerous when someone makes them angry. Many times I notice that these people have at least one contact with weapons or they like it. They like guns. These people could have a collection of guns.

🌛Cancer & taurus moon are similar in that they both will leave if they don't feel the energy in the room of people or wherever they are and both moons don't like to go out with strangers or with really big group of people. They prefer to be with only one person. They both love food and movies. Both of them have a sense of security and always take care of the people around them.

🌱Cancer rising- you are more of an introverted person, prefer to keep back and do not like to be in the company of strangers. You need your own space and I have noticed many times that these people do not like to drive strangers in their car or go to the vacation with them. They don't like it when people invade their private space.

🌼Venus and Cancer - these people are enthusiastic about children, they have a good feeling for children. They immediately immerse themselves in the conversation with them. They are very family oriented.

🥥Capricorn moon people have a lot of empathy towards people. A very friendly moon, otherwise they can be too focused on work and the things they have, but they are very friendly.

🫐Virgo placements especially rising sign a lot of times they are insecure about their body and how they look like. Also a lot of times they don't like taking pictures of themselves for example : for the men -without shirt on it and for woman the body parts the chest or belly. Or any part of the body that is intimate. But a lot of times it's the upper part of the body. Many times they are also very critical of their bodies. I think they have a very beautiful body, but they are too critical of themselves about their appearance. And they look very sexy when they have messy hair!

☁️Taurus/ sagittarius/ virgo placements especially venuses will be very critical of the bodies of other person like they would see the details of the person's body. For example: you like someone's arms and fingers - and the person will gain weight in their arms and suddenly you won't like it anymore, or they will have a too thick neck or their legs will be too muscular - You will see certain flaws on the person's body that you will no longer like. Hard to explain, but there are little things that they notice. Also, if the person goes on beauty corrections or something similar, it can quickly turn them away from the person.

💕Libra placements can sometimes be a little too obsessed with being liked by everyone and having a lot of people around them. Sometimes I have the feeling that they are too obsessed with the fact that people have to love them. They need the love from others way to much. And I have a feeling that sometimes they can be even more obsessed with perfection than virgos. The difference between libras and leos are that libras need people's attention. While Leos need attention to themselves, to be seen for their talents. Or that one person they really love.

🎯Aries in the other hand will always be honest and direct. But people often find them selfish because they focus more on themselves than on the people around them. And yes they could be but also when they love you and they find a connection with you, they will give you a lot of their energy. The difference is that Aries will only give their energy to people they really like and suit them. While libras will give their energy to everyone.

🍿The general energy between fire signs and air signs is that air signs can get along with everyone and will give everyone the same energy. Fiery signs are picky when it comes to people and will only give their energy to those they really like and will find passion with.

🧊8th house synastry create an energy like you have to have this person to yourself. And if the person is not only yours, you can quickly start showing jealousy. You want it to be just your person and you don't want to share it with any other person. These two people, even if they want to, cannot alienate themselves from each other. You cannot let go of this person even if you try. I mean it's very hard to go if you have a powerful relationship with this person.

🧃Geminis are very comfortable talking on the phone in front of other people. They always don't care if someone is around or listening to them. Many times they talk about very personal topics and don't care if anyone is listening.

☁️It's actually the earth signs that hides the most pain in themselves because they never talk about feelings out loud. They don't want to bother other people with their emotions and feelings and all of it. They want to be strong for others especially Moon signs and that's why they never talk about feeling so openly because they always feel this pressure they they have to be strong.

⭐️The signs you have a love-hate relationship with are actually the signs that will give you the most love and growth. For ex.: you have leo in your 8th house and you just hate their energy sometimes or how they made you feel. And all the times characteristics that they have bothers you and they will say all the wrong things to you and you will be like” I just hate them so much”but you will find out that this signs will actually do the most sacrifice for you. They will be the most loyal to you & you will have with them the most deep relationship of all the people in your life.

-Rebekah💗🦋🫧

[marsdql]

Skating on thin ice

♡ 𝒥 — [ 양정원 ] ⊹₊⟡⋆ jungwon ── .✦ f!reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ . . . 𝒲𝒸 2.1𝒦

──── eyes full of 𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃𝓈, we walk past eachother, pretending there’s no 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓃ℯ𝒸𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 . . . { a lot of teasing, frenemies to lovers, fluff, crack, low self esteem, highschool drama, romance, bullying, self doubt, light angst? }

────୨ৎ────

“Y/n, I swear if I have to ask you to finish your homework once more, your phone will be on the side of the road!” Your mother yelled from across the kitchen.

Highschool has been on your back this year, everything becoming more and more difficult as the days fly by. You were never a math girl—science, sure. But math? Never. Definitely your worst subject. Nothing really ever made sense, well sometimes it did, but only in budget related stuff—of course you were only good in budgeting, shopping addict.

To make things better—Yang Jungwon, a boy who transferred just a year ago, would always pick on you for your math grades each time he’d see your note from the corner of his nosey eye. If you knew better, you’d make fun of him too—his science grade was trashy, while yours were always colourful.

He never meant any harm from it, he only does it because of the time you humiliated him in PE class when you got higher than him in the beep test, infront of all of his friends who were watching from outside your gym class. Although, your sensitive self cannot handle any insults towards your grades—especially when you’re trying all you’ve got—and still getting so low.

“Another 5? Comon now y/nnie, we’re IB students! You shouldn’t be getting this low now… didn’t you want to become a doctor?” Jungwon whispered in your ear from behind. You quickly yanked his head from your shoulder, making him jump back into place onto his seat behind you. ‘Do you ever get tired of making fun of me? Go focus on your own things.’ ‘I can’t focus on my own things when you have too many flaws…’ he said as he gave you a wink and plopped a lolly into his mouth.

As you were walking to the bus to go home, you were stopped again—by jungwon. “What do you want now, jungwon?” You said in an annoyed tone. “Hey, what’s with the attitude… I’m not here to say anything mean, unfortunately. My friend Sunghoon told me to ask you if you did ice skating, he said he saw your instagram profile and you had something about it in your bio” You were obsessed with figure skating, you claimed that you knew how to skate—when in reality, you fell the last time you tried it and now too scared to try it again. Yet, you still had it in your bio and made it seem as if you were a skater…

As a child, you didn’t do much sports like most people. You wanted to do taekwondo—too boyish for your parents. You wanted to do basketball—lost passion for it after 4th grade. You did gymnastics/dance—wasn’t as flexible as your other friends and got discouraged, slowly growing out of it. Now as a teenager, you felt the need to know a sport, but you knew that it’s only good to be actually amazing at a sport if you started it when you were young.

You went to a sports school and you were one of the only ones who never tried out for anything, too scared of people being better than you because of them doing the sports from a young age. —— “Y/n? Hello? Are you even listening to me? You loser… why are you zoning out at this time? Don’t make me scare you out of it!” Yelped the boy right next to you. “No! Okay? Get out of my face jungwon! I don’t know what you’re saying but whatever it is, no!” You forgot what he even said—too lost in thought to care. It was your stop so you had to hop off anyway.

Days pass by, it’s depressing during winter, nothing to do, especially on Christmas break. Suddenly, a loud, aggressive knock on your door catches your attention. Coming from behind it, “y/n! Y/n! Comon! I know you’re there, I can hear your grumpy sighs from here!”

As you opened the door, you were welcomed by his huge smile—jungwon’s. “Now, what on Earth are you doing here? Is it to tell my mom that-“ as you were about to finish your sentence, you spot your mom and another woman—who seems to be jungwon’s mother—walk from the driveway to your front door.

“Y/n, please welcome our guests with respect and go get the kettle ready. Now miss Yang, what do you prefer? Tea or coffee?” Said your mother before you were even able to process what was happening.

Jungwon stared at you with the biggest grin on his face—as if he planned this from the start. He stayed behind you in your house as you walked towards your kitchen, being the good daughter you are and doing what your mother telling you to do.

“Okay, so, care to tell me what you’re doing here? Did you convince your mother to become friends with mine so that you could annoy me in my own house aswell?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact at all costs—because the last thing you needed, was to add something on his list of “things to hate on y/n”.

As you turned on the kettle, filling it up with water, he responded with a more serious tone than usual “no seriously this time, they saw eachother at the supermarket near our school and recognized eachother from social media.. I didn’t believe it either when I saw my mom pull into your drive way.” How did he even know it was your house.. “and don’t ask me how I know it’s your house, you practically run off the bus and make it to your door before it can even driving.”

As Jungwon sat at the kitchen table, his usual smirk returned. “Anyway, back to the real question. Do you ice skate or not? Sunghoon won’t stop bugging me about it.”

You sighed, suddenly regretting every choice that led to you putting “figure skater enthusiast” in your Instagram bio. Avoiding his gaze, you muttered, “No, I don’t actually ice skate.”

Jungwon’s eyebrows shot up, his teasing grin reappearing. “Wait—what? But your bio—”

“I know, okay?” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively. “I just… I like watching figure skating, and I wanted to seem interesting, okay? People who are good at sports always seem so… cool. And I’m not good at anything.”

His grin faded, replaced by an unusually soft expression. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re good at plenty of things.”

You scoffed. “Name one.”

He leaned back, pretending to think. “Well, for starters, you’re great at making me laugh. Even when you’re mad. And you crushed me in that beep test, remember?”

“That doesn’t count,” you muttered, though your lips twitched upward. “I’m still not good at sports. Or anything else, really.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Stop putting yourself down, y/n. You’re good at science, better than I’ll ever be. And honestly? Half the school’s scared of your sarcastic comebacks. That’s a skill.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Right. Sarcasm queen—what a talent.”

“Hey, it’s better than lying in your Instagram bio,” he shot back, smirking again. “But seriously, if you want to learn to ice skate, I can ask Sunghoon to help. He’s a pro.”

Your face flushed. “No way. That’s way too embarrassing.”

Jungwon leaned closer, a teasing glint in his eye. “What, afraid he’ll fall for you when he sees how graceful you are on the ice?”

“Shut up, Jungwon!” you said, shoving his shoulder, though you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But for the record, you don’t have to be good at sports to be cool. And you definitely don’t need a fake bio to impress anyone.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. “Thanks, Jungwon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, popping another lolly into his mouth. “Just don’t expect me to stop teasing you anytime soon. That’s what friends are for.”

Friends? The word lingered in your mind, leaving a strange warmth in its wake. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t so bad after all.

As the days went on, Jungwon started acting… differently. It wasn’t immediate, but you noticed. The sharp teasing comments he usually threw your way softened, replaced by subtle jokes that didn’t sting as much. He even started helping you with your math homework after class, though he made it clear it was only because he “couldn’t stand watching you struggle so much.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it. Was this some elaborate scheme to catch you off guard? Or had he genuinely decided to be nice? Either way, you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by how much time he suddenly spent around you.

It was late on a snowy Thursday afternoon when it happened. You were sitting on a bench outside the school, waiting for the bus. The air was crisp, your breath visible as you tucked your hands into your coat pockets. Jungwon appeared out of nowhere, plopping down next to you, his usual lolly in his mouth.

“Waiting for the bus again? You know, one day you’re going to freeze to death out here,” he said, nudging you with his elbow.

“Thanks for the concern,” you replied dryly, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You look tired.”

“Wow, such a compliment,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Long day, that’s all.”

“Bet you’re overthinking something again,” he said casually, leaning back on the bench.

You hesitated. “Maybe. You’re being weirdly nice lately, and I don’t know why. It’s kind of throwing me off.”

Jungwon glanced at you, his expression unreadable for once. “Weirdly nice? Wow, thanks. I didn’t realize I was such a villain before.”

“You kind of were,” you teased, though your voice was quieter this time. “But seriously. Why are you being… like this? Did you get bored of making fun of me or something?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re so dense sometimes, y/n.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, frowning.

He turned to face you fully, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something softer—something you couldn’t quite place. “It means… maybe I just like spending time with you. Maybe I like seeing that little smile you try to hide when you think I’m being funny. And maybe I realized I didn’t want you to think I only know how to annoy you.”

Your heart stuttered. For a second, you forgot how to breathe. “Jungwon… what are you saying?”

He sighed, his breath fogging up in the cold air. “I’m saying.. just, never mind—see you later y/n!” were the last thing he said before he left—your bus arriving at the same time.

t . . . b . . . c . . .

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Beauty From Darkness Part 2

Word Count: 2919

Pairings: Louis x Lestat, Armand x Reader

Summary: The interview brought forth feelings that had been long surpressed in the group. You all start working through wrongs and towards some kind of peace.

The interview had ushered in a new era for the Vampires of the group. Pain and hurt became the forefront of their thoughts; whether it was their own hurt or that which they had caused. The only two largely unaffected had been You and Louis, who had already begun processing. 

For Armand, there was a fist full of pills for him to swallow. He had found himself without a lie to hide behind. He was exposed; he was utterly surrounded by pain and suffering, some he had directly caused and some he had just made worse. He took time to process the pain he had caused Louis in Paris and further throughout their time together. He thought about all of the things he had done to Lestat, most of which he decided had not been warranted. 

Lestat was feeling the weight of every failed relationship, boiled down to his first. His lack of emotional awareness smacking him in the face. He would drown in it. Lestat was good at many things; apologies were never one of those things. 

While Armand and Lestat stewed in their respective wrong doings, you and Louis were left caring for their emotional turmoil and pulling your hair out. Armand had developed a habit of being clingy and trying to reassure himself that you loved him. Lestat was ever the drama queen; sprinkling the whoa is me act on a little too thick for Louis’ liking. By the end of the week, it was decided that something had to be done.

  One night, seemingly out of the blue to Lestat, you called to him; summoning him. He had gone home to New Orleans after the interview and your tour had brought you to Miami, not far for vampires to travel. Armand had wanted to go with you; Marius had to physically hold him back. You met Lestat on a deserted beach. 

You weren’t sure how to begin once he arrived, over two hundred years, you still didn’t know what to say to him. He looked so broken standing on that beach. His eyes were already full of tears. You looked to the ocean separating you from your prison of so long ago now. It would hurt you both, no matter where you began.

“Do you know what you did,” you turned to face him. “I don’t mean your actions, but the consequences of them.” you watched him shift like he wanted to run away from this, but he knew you both needed this. He'd be damned if he denied you again. He shook his head.

“I was afraid when my parents sold me out. I was alone. Raised with the knowledge that I was nothing without a husband. I was hopeful when they told me I was to marry you. I had endless possibilities floating in my head; I would be a wife, maybe a mother. Maybe we would go off on our own with our little family and lead lives worth remembering.” you stopped, your next admission would forever be a sore spot for you. “I always wanted to be a mother. I was promised to a handsome young man; I could almost see them and they were the most beautiful things in the world. But I was not made into a wife or mother. I was reduced to garbage and thrown away. The ghost in the castle walls. A prison I would never hope to escape and married to my jailer.” Lestat took half a step towards you until you motioned for him to stay. 

“My only peace was Gabrielle and my walks. She stayed with me on long days alone and taught me to read so that I may find the escape she had. On my walks, I could almost imagine I was home. Free and unburdened. You probably do not remember running into me in her library, that day, nine years after our wedding.”  he looked at you.

“I do remember.” he whispered, hanging his head in shame. 

“I could not reconcile that handsome gentleman with the boy who humiliated me at the wedding and then roughly discarded me after claiming me. It broke my heart all over again. You were on my mind for two years after that. I would imagine running into you and we would talk. You’d fall in love with me and I wouldn’t be alone. I know you watched me from afar. I always prayed you would approach, but you never did. Then every night I would relive my wedding, your words echoed in my ears until I woke up in the morning.” Lestat fell to his knees in the sand.

“I got free though. I had gone for a walk after dinner, which I was forced to take in my room every night. It wasn’t dark yet when I left and I hadn’t intended to be out very long, just some fresh air before bed. But I got distracted watching the moon rise and the stars were stunning that night. Marius found me. At first he planned on just killing me, but he is the collector of beautiful things, he took me away with him.” Lestat was listening closely to the story; he had never stopped wondering how you had died, then after discovering you were a vampire, he was no less interested in your story.

“I was loved for the first time in my life. I was happy to be surrounded by those beautiful stars. The smell of Marius’ paints. The feeling of the sheet music in my hands. The sounds of my life filling the air in those dark hours. I was finally at peace.” You paused and studied Lestat for a long moment.

“Then you approached, seeking Marius. Marius knew that there would be no more peace for me there, so he sent me way. My only task was to experience the joys of the world. But I was alone again. I was angry with you for robbing me yet again.” Lestat shook his head, crying. He had done far more to you than he could have imagined. 

“I went to Paris. I had been taught to announce my presence and that is just what I did. Armand was the vampire who greeted me in Paris. You had asked how I was with; how did you put it? A Gremlin like Armand? That would be because he was my first love. He was my companion for ten amazing years. I could have stayed with him forever there among the theater walls; we only parted because I refused to join the coven which infuriated the others. He sent me away so that they wouldn’t kill me.” He understood Armand in a way he had not before; he had set you free. He hadn’t been selfish with you.

“He has been in my corner all along. But I didn’t call you here just to list all the ways in which you have wronged me. Though it was important that you heard them. I called you here for two things, which I will only say once under these stars and then never again. First, I forgive you for all the things you knowingly did and the things you did without knowledge. Secondly, Thank you. If things had gone differently, I wouldn’t have been found by Marius. I wouldn’t have found Armand. Most importantly, I wouldn’t have found myself.” You approached him this time and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“I mourned your death. I knew it was too late, but I knew then what I had done. Gabrielle was so full of rage towards me. I’ve carried this with me for two hundred and thirty-seven years, I never once thought I would get the chance to apologize to you. I thought a lot about the girl in the library. Her beauty, her quiet nature. When mother told me it had been you, it killed me. I had asked about you repeatedly, but I was told to stay away from you. I understand now that Gabrielle was trying to protect you from me. But I wanted to talk to you. I never thought to hope that I could be forgiven for what I did to you. And for what I did, I can never express how sorry I am.” you nodded and gave him a hug.

“I have a proposition for you, Lestat.” you said from your place in the hug. “We didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell before. We were doomed before it began; let’s not squander our second chance. I would be honored to count you as my friend.” Lestat answered you by tightening the hug, he was crying, but so much seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders. You both stayed on that beach for hours watching the stars dance overhead. You parted that night as friends. 

The next night, Louis called to you again. Apparently Lestat had come home and apologized for everything he had ever done. Every harsh word. Every lie. Every ignored feeling he had ignored; he had listed them all out and apologized individually for each action. He went on to tell Louis about you and all the things he had done to you. Louis couldn’t believe that you had forgiven it all. He was even more amazed that after everything, you still wanted to be friends with him. 

“Your turn, Louis. Don’t let it fester like we did.” He knew that you meant Armand. The last vampire on the planet that he wanted to see.

Louis chose New Orleans as the theater for their meeting. Armand clung to you and told you over and over how much he loved you. It was like a soldier leaving home for battle. Maybe that was how this felt to Armand. You weren’t worried, Louis had promised not to kill Armand. 

Louis was already in Jackson Square by the time Armand finally arrived. He gestured to the bench beside him. Armand sat at the other end and turned to face Louis. Louis just sat there for a while, letting Armand stew for a bit.

“You can relax, I didn’t call you here to die. I wanted to clear the air.” Armand relaxed at the notion of going home.

“I wanted to apologize for the things I have done to you. First, I am sorry for trying to make you turn Madeline, I am sorry that while you were uncomfortable with the situation, I gave you shit for it. I am sorry that I made you feel like you had to choose me or the coven. I am sorry that you were always made to feel like my second choice, always backseat to my hallucinations of Lestat. I am sorry that you felt that I chose Claudia over you. And then I am sorry for these past seventy-seven years, all the shit I said and did to you out of anger. I am sorry. If I had done things differently, maybe we would have been alright.” Louis was truly sorry for his behavior for much of his existence and all of the people he had her with it. 

“I accept your apologies, Louis. And I myself have much to apologize for. I am sorry that I drove a wedge between you and Claudia. I am sorry that I allowed my jealousy to take her from you. I am sorry that my reaction was that if I couldn’t have you then no one could. I am sorry for every lie and manipulation since then. I am sorry that I killed Daniel and then abandoned him after you told me not to touch him. I am sorry I didn’t see sooner that I acted like a child, breaking my toys when I didn’t get my way.” Louis nodded.

“I accept that you are apologizing. But I cannot forgive you right now; and I am not sure I ever will. I know Claudia wouldn’t either. I can’t forgive the years you let me hate Lestat for something he didn’t do.” his fist was balled up, but he had a promise to keep. “All I can say to you now is that you can rest assured you won’t have to look for me over your shoulder. You have (Y/N) to thank for that. You better not hurt her.” Louis stood and extended a hand to Armand. A truce. It was more that anyone had expected to come from this.

He called to you as soon as Louis left. Despite the fact that only Louis had been forgiven, it was a start and a move in the right direction. You were all intermingled with each other, and voicing the hurt was slowly making way for a new beginning. You were also glad to hear that Louis wasn’t actively plotting Armand’s death. He wanted to come home, but he had unfinished business in New Orleans. You were already on your way to him. 

Lestat and Armand moved to the parlour as soon as you arrived; this left you and Louis trapped in the kitchen. You shut your minds off out of respect for the conversation happening in the other room. This also gave you and Louis a chance to sit and socialize in person for once.

Lestat sat down and waited for Armand to begin. He didn’t feel like he had much to apologize for. He had decided to hear Amrand out first and then he would apologize if he felt like it.

“Lestat. I have done a great many things to you over these years. All from a place of anger I no longer recognize. I killed your fledgling, not for any particular reason other than to inflict pain on you and Louis. I could have stopped it after you saved Louis, but I still wanted to hurt you. To break you the way I felt broken. I proceeded to keep your companion from you because you had ruined my plans. I deeply regret keeping Louis from you. I did not understand Love. I only knew loneliness and I wanted you to feel it. I know now what I did to you. I am profoundly sorry for that. I am also sorry for dragging Claudia and Madeline into the plan and ruining their chances at love too.” he paused and Lestat cut in.

“You killed two fledglings and took away two companions.” he corrected to Armand’s confusion.

“I did not kill two fledglings?” Armand could not think of any other fledgling he could have killed.

“Nicholas de Lenfent.” Lestat spit in outrage. You and Louis paused your conversation when you heard Lestat yell. 

“I have done many things, killing him is not one of them. Lestat, you can read my mind if you want, but I tell you honestly, I did not kill Nicki. He killed himself. He spiraled out of control after you left. He played his violin manically at all hours, he revealed his vampire nature to mortals regularly, and he attacked people out on the street unprovoked. I locked him away in the theater to protect him. I admit that I took his hands for a few days, but when I returned them, he composed a stack of new work and demanded we hold a sabbat in his honor. When I refused, he threatened to burn down the theater with everyone inside. So, we held the sabbat. He started dancing wildly around the flames and then he danced into the flames. It was a horror to witness.” Lestat was horrified about Nicki’s final act. He had held that anger for years and it was placed on the wrong person. 

“I am sorry for leaving so suddenly.”Lestat started.”I took your way of life, flipped it upside down, learned what I could and then left you with my regret.” Lestat regretted turning Nicki. He should have let him go.

“I forgave you for the Children of Darkness.” Armand said softly.

“Just not for leaving.” Armand nodded. “We would have ended badly.”

“Perhaps, but you were my first love and I needed you in this new life you had built.” Lestat pondered the connection of every failed relationship. 

“It was never me you needed.” he looked at the door separating them from their companions. “Armand, you have done the one thing I could not. You have loved her in all the ways she deserves. I will never forgive you for Paris, but thank you for loving her.” Armadn nodded and smiled towards the door. 

“I know she forgave you. I don’t know how she did it. I don’t know how such beauty has thrived in the darkness. For what I’ve done, I don’t understand how she loves me.” Lestat shrugged.

“I’m glad she did. And I’m glad she does. You are better with her.” your laughter filled the air over something Louis had said. Both men smiled for different reasons. Armand was smiling at the joy of his love. Lestat, it was a sound he had never heard before and one he never thought he would hear. They raised to join the fun. They found you both eating chocolate ice cream; it was all over Louis’ face and you were laughing so hard you were crying. 

After you regained composure, which took awhile since every time you looked at Louis, you’d lose it again, you suggested you all go to San Francisco. You wanted to check in on Daniel. Armand had one last piece of unfinished business. Everything was looking up.

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

10 epiphany. where ushijima has a sudden realization

<< 09 disconnect. | >> 11 epiphany.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: we only go up from here, my loves - ave word count: 3.7k 💀 warnings: violence, threats, vile, misogynistic comments (by a rando), cursing tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

april, third year

ushijima wakatoshi is by no means a people person. he is a highly motivated individual, mind always focused on the task at hand. he does not mind people interacting with him, although he can survive without it. 

he enjoys playing volleyball and listening to his teammates, occasionally adding to the conversation, but he has never been a particularly talkative person like tendo. it’s not that he dislikes human interaction, he just finds that sometimes, some things are better left unspoken, or perhaps unnecessary altogether. 

he never goes out of his way to befriend someone – he was already busy with volleyball as it is, and to add to it, staying on top of his school’s demanding curriculum. people has commented on his stoicism and general unapproachability behind his back, not that he cares enough about it. so naturally, he did not have a lot of friends to begin with. 

wakatoshi thinks that he is satisfied with his way of life and intends on keeping it simple with just school and volleyball, and none of the drama that he’s heard going around his year all the time. or rather, he intended to. 

and so, he finds himself confused, and irritated as well, when this guy from his year, apparently the captain of the basketball or baseball or whatever, he could care less, tries to start some kind of shit with him. 

ushijima was on his way to lunch with tendo when this idiot came and started badmouthing him and the volleyball team, calling him a useless piece of shit and some other names that he stopped listening to. he wondered what the point of this confrontation is when he doesn’t even know who this person is. 

with a blank stare and a twitching eyebrow, ushijima cuts him off, “i’m sorry, who are you again?” 

it only made him angrier and humiliated, with the crowd that is starting to form around the commotion. “my name is yamasaki takeo.”

“i don’t recall asking for your opinion, yamasaki-san,” ushijima retorts irritably, eliciting a gasp from tendo who is next to him. 

yamasaki gapes at him, as the whispers from the students around them grow audibly. 

that ought to be the end of it, ushijima thinks, as he makes to leave the scene that yamasaki caused. he has better things to worry about, like the fact that you are still not on speaking terms with him, rather than this pointless confrontation that is clearly wasting his time.

“that’s right, because you’re too busy trying to get into miyamura’s pants than focusing on volleyball, aren’t you?” 

tendo reckons that the idiot is relentless in picking a fight with him, and apparently has a death wish. for he had the balls to bring your name up when it is currently occupying the top spot in ushijima’s list of touchy subjects, which is very, very short. in fact, it only has one entry right now.

ushijima clenches his fists. now he is truly irritated, and his short patience is reaching its end. 

yamasaki, noticing that he is finally getting a reaction out of the indifferent volleyball captain, delightedly goes on to drag your name through the mud. 

“is it really that difficult to get your little girlfriend to sleep with you, captain, if you are so high and mighty? or is it just you that she is not interested in?” he mocks ushijima, a shit eating grin on his face now that he has ushijima’s full attention, discovering his weakness. “maybe she’s actually sleeping around with your friends. in fact, i wouldn’t be so surprised if she is, considering how close she is to semi eita as of late.”

if looks could kill, yamasaki would be long dead by now. his only saving grace being the thin fraying thread of patience that ushijima is holding on to. a very, very thin thread. 

“if you know what’s good for you, keep her name out of your filthy mouth.” ushijima grits his teeth. 

ushijima hates that he has you dragged into this spectacle. you’re not his girlfriend, much less his friend at this very moment. he hates that too, that you are so far away from his reach. he dislikes the hole your absence left in his meticulous schedule, and he misses the warmth your presence brings him. 

for your sake, he has been keeping his temper in check. convincing himself that getting into a brawl with yamasaki would only serve to fan the flames of the situation when word spreads around school, and the one who would suffer the most would be you. 

but it appears that yamasaki is asking, practically begging for it, as he continues his goading. “maybe i need to get a taste of her, considering how well she has you wrapped around her finger.”

the thread explodes. 

red. red is all ushijima could see as someone grabs a hold of yamasaki’s collar and throws a fist into his cocky face. he is so full of shit. a killing calm descends on ushijima as he watches the person pull his arm back and send another punch to yamasaki. again. and again. 

he vaguely registers his friend shouting his name and pulling on his arm with a few of other students. semi and ohira, he realizes. puzzled, he looks down to see his hand gripping tightly onto the front of yamasaki’s uniform, and his left hand is covered in blood. 

oh. oh. that was him who punched the asshole.

ushijima releases his hold on yamasaki, breathing heavily as the gravity of the situation settles in. it isn’t some inconsequent drama to circulate around school anymore. 

yamasaki struggles to stand, coughing out blood. his nose sits crookedly on his face, most possibly broken. but he has the nerve to smirk, as much as he could, at ushijima. “not so strong now, are you?”

“says the one with a sorry state for a face,” semi retorts, tense from the whole situation.

he merely wipes at his bloodied face, waving semi off. “i am not the one you need to worry about. i am also not the one who is risking his spot on the under 19 team for the youth world championship with a scandal.”

ushijima recoils, blood running cold. was that his goal all along? 

“maybe, i will forgive your actions, if you get on your knees and beg,” yamasaki pauses, a dark glint in his eyes, “and give y/n to me.”

his words have ushijima struggling to break free from his teammates, caution thrown to the winds, ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“let go of me!” ushijima growls. fuck the consequences, there is no way in hell he will let this asshole lay a finger on you.

he does not notice the crowd parting as the students recognize you and allow you space to get to the front of the commotion. the frown on your face from witnessing the latter half of the events unfolding after you yielded to chika’s curiosity of the commotion that sent students running in the hallways and getting their friends to join them. the sigh that escapes your lips from being the center of the drama. 

“is that all it really takes?” your voice stops him in his attempts to break free, his head snapping towards you in shock.

ushijima has not felt fear in years, certainly not on the volleyball court, not since his parents had a messy divorce, but your words send his heart dropping to the floor. “y/n–”

“stay out of it.” you breathe sharply at him, needing your wits about you if you were to get him out of this situation unscathed. turned away from yamasaki, you let out a trembling breath and steel your nerves. 

you’ve worn a mask in your own home for years, this is nothing, you remind yourself. sure, the whispers would spread, but for him, you would wreck yourself. to hell with this asshole if he dares to try to bring ushijima down. ironic, considering you distanced yourself to save your own heart. when it is all said and done, it still belongs to him.  

“unfortunately, i am not an object that ushijima can simply give away, yamasaki-san, but am i worth the lengths you went to?” 

you observe as his eyes dart behind you at ushijima. so that’s how it is. you are not what he wants. what he wants is to get to ushijima, for reasons you can surmise from the gossip that had been floating around the last week. 

if you play your cards right, you could twist his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking. he would have no choice but to back down, you hope. if not… you don’t want to even think about it. this has to be enough.

“why don’t i propose you a better trade?” you bat your lashes at the scum in front of you, playing the role of the ever helpless girl using her body to get away with things. praying to the gods above that he will take the bait. just come a little closer and i will show you my teeth, bastard.

surely, you can’t be thinking of actually going out with yamasaki, ushijima tries to convince himself as he watches you smile at the asshole coyly. you are smarter than that, and he is not worth your sacrifice. 

or is he? he averts his eyes as you lean in towards yamasaki. shoves the prickling sense of unfamiliar discomfort down. shushes the pealing bells in his mind. the urge to pummel his face to nothing. 

he tries to put his mind elsewhere, but a sense of inevitability creeps in. dread, he realizes, crawls up his spine and makes its home there.

he wants to shout at you. something. anything. anything but this. he doesn’t need to be in the youth 19 team. he would rather risk it all. he doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything but you by his side. and the thought of it terrifies him.

“wakatoshi-kun,” tendo nudges him and grabs his attention away from his thoughts. he follows tendo’s gaze towards you and takashima, whose cocky smirk was completely wiped off his bloodied and bruised face and replaced by a paleness that looked like fear. “that’s your girl.”

“i’m so glad we were able to come to an understanding, takashima-san. i would hate for such a nasty argument to get even more out of hand, don’t you agree? now that we are on the same page, i’m sure this won’t happen again. right, takashima-san?” ushijima shudders at the underlying hostility in your fake cheery voice that is directed towards takashima. he never wants to be on the receiving end of it, he thinks. 

you lay a hand on his arm, an eerily innocent smile on your face. and takashima winces, nodding quickly and too eagerly compared to his earlier behavior. 

“i guess we will see you around?” ushijima catches on to the hidden demand under your nice words. you better stay away from us. “oh, do you need a hand to the nurse’s office?”

what exactly did he miss? but he is too awestruck by the way you turned the situation around that he forgot to correct tendo’s earlier statement. 

he tunes out takashima’s stuttering response as you turn around, a frown finding its way onto your beautiful features as your cold eyes land on him. barely registers tendo calling “show’s over” and gesturing at the crowd to disperse and mind their own business.

he hates the mask you are wearing, pushing everyone, and him, away as a defense mechanism. he hates that he is the reason you had to don it today to protect him from his own actions.   

ushijima finds himself reaching out to you to smooth out the furrow in your brows, only to be met by resistance. your slender fingers hook onto his wrist, halting his movement for a split second before dropping his hand like a hot potato. 

“people are watching,” you remind him. your eyes catch on his left hand, where the skin on his knuckles was split, hesitating on your next words. “you should get that treated.”

he frowns, already missing the feeling of your skin on his. why would he care that people are watching?

the four of them end up walking to the nurse’s office with ohira dismissing himself from the group for some errand he had to run for his class. tendo being tendo, starts pestering you about what you did and how you did it despite your clipped answers. 

ushijima finds himself staring at the back of your head, unsure if you are just a figment of his imagination from how long he went without interacting with you. next to him, semi nods his head at you, “she doesn’t hate you, you know.”

he stays quiet. if that’s true, then why are you so intent on avoiding him?

“you are both impossible,” semi huffs in disbelief. 

finding the nurse’s office empty, semi lets your little group into the dark room. tendo beelines for the cabinet, rummaging for supplies. you didn’t have the energy to tell them that they should probably wait for the nurse to come back.

you keep to the door, fidgeting as if you could not decide to stay or go. “see you guys” you blurt, feet moving quickly out the door.

“y/n–” ushijima panics. is this it? is this all he has left of you?

“i’ll go talk to her.” semi promises, running after you, leaving ushijima in tendo’s hands.

they sit in silence as tendo cleans up ushjima’s bloodied knuckles, the latter unphased by the sting of disinfectant on raw skin with his entire focus on the doorway. wishing. 

sure enough, semi returns with an uneasy y/n in tow, looking like you would rather be anywhere but there. 

he makes you sit on the bed across from ushijima, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “stay, you two need to talk. tendo and i will be right outside.” translation: don’t think about leaving until you talk to him. to which you return an unamused look, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

you wait until the door clicks closed behind them before stealing a glance at ushijima. his stare displaces you, as if there is nothing more important than you. unbelievable, you think. 

you open your mouth to say something – something mean and hurtful so that he would stop looking at you like he cared, but decide against it, knowing full well your anger, the serpent that rarely rears its head is nasty when it does. 

“why are you avoiding me?” he breaks the silence. the first words you’ve heard from him in a long while, not counting the short exchange earlier and during orchestra practice. you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. that it didn’t calm the wary hissing wild animal in you on some subconscious level.

“why do you care, ushijima?” the name still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue even though you have tried to get over it. you don’t actually love him, right? it’s just a schoolgirl infatuation. or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself, hoping that it will be true when you repeat it enough times. 

“you are my friend, y/n.” his eyes snap to yours, begging you to understand. 

the feeling of drowning creeps in, bringing you back to the first sleepless nights after you cut him off. how pathetic you were running after someone who did not even treat you as their friend. how worthless. how you went from wishing that he saw you as you are to wishing that he never walked into your life.

“no, if i am your friend, then why didn’t you tell me about the nationals? fuck, i had to find out from semi, and it was only because they needed me to stop you from hurting yourself. what the fuck am i to you, ushijima wakatoshi?” you snap at him. 

he starts to say something, but you are not done, not yet. 

“why bother? why save me from myself, tell me you’re my friend, when you certainly don’t act like it when it comes to yourself? do you think so little of me? or am i just some basket case to you?” your fists curl at your sides, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes, as you will them back. 

why did you start the fight? why? 

and then he is at your feet, kneeling and taking your hands into his, looking at you as if you are his salvation. “it was easy, caring for you. felt right, like second nature. you matter to me, but i–” he glances away for a second, almost too much, he thinks “–i don’t know how to let others do the same to me, even if it’s you, that didn’t come naturally. i’m sorry, y/n.” his knuckles are gentle against your skin, brushing away the tears that you didn’t realize started sliding down your cheeks.

the silence stretches, interrupted by your sniffles here and there. 

“talk to me.” he tucks the hair that is covering your face behind your ear. 

your voice is a pained quiet. “i was running away from you, afraid of what your answer could be. i was scared that you found me unworthy. i felt pathetic, yearning for your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. but–” your throat tightens at your cowardice, realizing your own mistake.

“it could have been avoided if you just talked to me.” wakatoshi finishes your sentence for you.

“you’re a fucking hypocrite.” you retort, kicking his knee in pettiness. “don’t think you’re so easily forgiven.” and just like that he is forgiven. your heart once again safely tucked away in his hands, returned to its owner after weeks of being torn away bleeding and broken by yours. 

it’s unfair, really. the effortlessness it takes on his part to make you whole unknowingly. maybe you were born without a heart, given away to ushijima by fate. maybe he is meant to come into your life and give it back, to remind you that you are alive, and to live. 

you keep telling yourself that he is meant for more than you. which is the truth. but it is also because you are afraid of losing him forever.  

but he recognizes the way you deflect away from your own vulnerability. “make me beg for it, i’ll do anything to redeem myself.” you mean too much to me.

“anything?” you tap your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “how about going to the tanabata festival in your kuromontsuki haori hakama?” 

you are trying to see how far he would go to satisfy your demands. usually people wear yukatas to summer festivals, the most casual traditional option, and the most comfortable one in the sweltering heat of summer. a kuromontsuki haori hakama is the highest rank of kimono for men and only worn for formal occasions like weddings and funerals. 

but you would kill to see him in one, and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“that would be a little difficult… how about a haori hakama?” which is less formal than what you suggested, though enough that he will still stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but– “fine.” you wanted to see him in a full formal kimono. 

“i get the crispy ends of your katsu.” nod. “give me a piggyback ride home.” an eyebrow raise, but nod. “i want the only bottle of grape squash that you guys buy every single time.” nod. 

“no more keeping secrets from me.” 

“done.”

“i will have to think of more later, you’re currently on probation.” you narrow your eyes at him, gesturing with your hand, i’m watching you. he catches it deftly, getting all up in your space. 

your breath hitches as he comes eye to eye with you, only inches to spare. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better, i promise.” 

you hear his words, sure, but the thunderous beating of your heart is coming from every direction, deafening. in that moment, you forgot how to speak, tongue twisted in a way that cannot be undone. so you panic, feet kicking out instinctively. 

several things happen in quick succession. wakatoshi grunts, curling backwards in pain. the door bursts open as semi and tendo comes running in to defuse the situation. you sit there in shock. tendo starts cackling at the scene in front of him, tears shining in his eyes. 

“damn, one after another, y/n, you’re putting these boys down real hard.” he wipes his eyes with laughter.

“it was an accident!” 

“sure, sure, if you say so.” he slowly backs out of the room, having a distinctive feeling that you may want to land one on him too. 

“get back here, tendo satori! oi, where do you think you are going? you still need to dress toshi’s wounds.” you dash at him. 

“back to toshi now, are we? why don’t you do it yourself?” he snickers, running away.

semi shakes his head at the two of you, glancing at his captain who is still recovering from your kick in the nuts. he winces at the thought of it. “you good?”

ushijima looks towards where tendo now has an arm thrown over your shoulders, affectionately ruffling your hair, utterly unfazed by the way you are snapping at him. 

“i told you, i am not telling you! it defeats the purpose of what i said to that scum if i told you! get your dirty hands off of me.” you frown at the redhead, and then as if sensing his eyes on you, you point at ushijima. “you, don’t ever pick fights again even if i get dragged into it, it’s not worth it.” 

“but he picked a fight with ushijima-kun first.” 

“why, you brat. do you want to find out what dirty secrets i know about you?”

“wah, scary, y/n-chan. remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

you make a face at tendo, which ushijima finds adorable. his lips quirk in a smile at the scene unfolding in front of them, finally responding to semi’s earlier question. 

“yeah. yeah, i think so.”

“ushijima-kun, you’re down bad.”

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[ang3lwritez]

Teddy Bear 🧸| fyozai

Tw|| Yandere Fyodor! Stalking and MENTIONED murder + kidnapping but it's very very brief

Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Aka: A total fucking nobody

Shooting his shot with the Osamu Dazai.

Mister " Everyone Has A Crush On Me And I'm Basically Perfect. "

Yeah. No way in hell that was working out.

Fyodor may be in love, but he's not stupid!

So instead of asking him out and being humiliated, a kinda one sided friendship and hardcore stalking was only the most logical of conclusions.

I mean who doesn't know their crushes' full name, date of birth, address, familial connections, friends, class schedule, hangout spots and favourite well…everything!!?? I mean do you really even love them if you don't know that much?

But Fyodor, ever the overachiever, wanted more. Just seeing him from his walks to school and back wasn't enough. Plus, stalking Dazai’s social media stories and the outside of his yard was getting… mundane to say the least. He was bored, desvestated, in a dizziness of lovestrucken sorrow! How he wished to even be in his beloved Osamu's bubble for more than a brief passby! He was the only person on this planet who was on his level, intelligent enough to understand him, charming enough to captivate him. He couldn't let someone like that be unmonitored! 

All this and more flooded the raven haired boy's head as he smiled at the plush store cashier who ringed up a small brown bear. Brown, like

Osamu’s hair.. and eyes… and those small scars on his wrists..

Fyodor sighed softly to himself, what a charming hopeless romantic he truly was!

“Just like the girls in all those American movies.” he thought as he took the plush bear onto his desk at home and grabbed scissors.

“Just like the girls in shojo manga.” 

He thought as he cut the bear's head open, poking one eye out with a sewing needle.

“Just like the girls in stage plays!” He smiled to himself, placing the mini camera he got from the department store between the plushies fluffy stuffing 

“Just like the girls in audio dramas!” He sighed dreamily as he sewed the head of the plushie back on, the camera lens just barely peeking through the bear's now torn eye socket.

Perfect. Truly romantic. He shocked himself sometimes with just how gentlemanly he is!!

The next morning, Fyodor almost floated into his homeroom class with glee. Though his face wouldn't ever show it. After all, he had an image to maintain!

So, the stuffed bear was ceremoniously placed on Dazai's desk. The brown haired boy looked up at Fyodor with a confused smile.

“Well good morning to you too, Dostoyevsky.”

He said holding back a snide laugh. “What's with the plushie? It's not Valentine's or White day.” Fyodor looked at him dead in the eyes.

“It was your birthday two weeks ago. This is your gift. Apologies if it was late.” He said flatly bowing his head before blankly staring at his beloved crush again.

“...ooooookaaaay then. Thanks. It's cute.” Dazai said awkwardly before stuffing the plushie in his school bag.

“Keep it in the light please.” Fyodor said.

“Why?”

“Would you like being thrown in a dark closet if you were a plushie?” 

“...I g-guess you have a point?” 

The two stared at each other silently before the bell rung in their ears. Fyodor gave Dazai one last nod before sitting at his desk. He raised his book to his face, as his cheeks flushed red. Oh the way his beloved Osamu looked at him, those brown eyes big and wide with adorable suprise and confusion! 

Oh what a chamer he was, it's such a surprise Osamu wasn't begging on his knees to be his boyfriend. Such a shame his beloved wished to play hard to get!!

No matter, at least he had a little piece of him keeping the brown haired boy company, Fyodor thought as he opened the app the teddybear camera was linked to on his phone. Sure enough, it worked like a charm. He could see the lower side of Dazai from the open zipper in his school bag. How cute he looked when he was focusing!

It's safe to say Fyodor didn't pay any attention in that class. Or the one after that. Or any of the other classes he shared with Dazai. No matter, it's not like he didn't know this stuff already. Perks of being the smart kid.

Fyodor had never rushed home so quick in his life. After making sure his beloved had a safe walk home (as per usual! Do any of Dazai's other love interests do that? He thinks NOT!!)

He dashed to his room, immediately turning on the app. And there he was, looking through the teddy bear Dazai so graciously placed on his bed the minute he got home! How sweet his beloved was, such a kind soul! Treating even a plush toy with such grace! Truly worthy of his affection.

And that's how his afternoons were spent.

Watching Dazai sleep, eat, study.. (and if he was lucky enough, change!) it truly was such a beautiful arrangement.

Such a shame Dazai became all too perceptive, finding the camera one fateful night when the batteries decided to go on the fritz. And now here Fyodor was, being interrogated by the one he loves most. Was this, perhaps, a perfect moment to confess?! Now that Dazai knew of his devotion!!!?? Oh how fate is so beautiful. Even when Dazai is yelling, calling him insane, he knows deep down he loves him back. How could he not!

Yet even then he gets met with a slap, and the title of creep when going in for an “I love you” and a kiss. Figures. Dazai had always been such a hard to get player.

But no matter, afterall Fyodor was smart, kind and patient. 

He just had to wait for Dazai to see that.

And if that means threatening others, hurting them, and even a bit violently dragging dazai to his basement 

Then he gladly would. If his beloved wished to be blind, he would wait an eternity for him to see.

Fyodor would always wait.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is also up on my ao3! > Netranetwork

[autisticlancemcclain]

In all the love songs Keith has heard (and he’s heard many, both his Pa and Shiro were big ballad fans), he’s always heard laughter described as angelic.

That’s how it is. Over and over again. When you fall in love with someone, when cupid’s arrow strikes, their laughter will be like musical bells, like windchimes, melodic and beautiful and entrancing, and you will never want to hear anything else.

Lance sounds like a hyena on crack when he laughs.

Keith is obsessed with it.

The love ballads got one half of it right, he supposes. He does shut the fuck up and listen when Lance laughs. It is like the only sound he can hear.

It’s just not…musical.

“Your sighs get any dreamier and he’s going to hear you,” Shiro says idly, colouring his nails with Sharpie.

Keith drops his chin from his hands, turning away from where he was watching Lance laugh with Hunk and Allura and scowling at his asshole brother. “He is not.”

Shiro snickers, not even bothering to look up. Keith wonders if it’s morally acceptable to smack the shit out of someone with only one arm, or if Shiro will call foul and convince everyone that Keith is somehow the asshole here.

“Is so. You’re so besotted that even I’m embarrassed for you, and I usually just laugh when you’re being humiliating.”

Keith decides that the potential reputation tarnishing is worth it.

“Ow!” Shiro cries, clutching his flesh arm with way more drama than necessary. “My arm!” He glances over at the scattered stares he receives, from various uniformed officers, and pitches his voice louder to get more attention. “My only remaining human arm!”

“Keith, stop trying to kill your brother,” Coran admonishes. “He’s sensitive.”

Shiro shoots him the tiniest smirk before returning to his fake pout. Keith’s jaw drops in indignation. “Wh — he antagonized me — it’s not my — Coran!”

Coran only raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Number Three, or shall I get your mother involved?”

Pidge makes an obnoxious oooooooooh sound, wiggling her eyebrows at him, because she and Shiro are the worst, actually, and for good measure Coran is too.

“I hate this family,” Keith mutters, sinking into his seat. “All of you suck.”

“Okay, emo boy,” Shiro says patronizingly.

Unfortunately, Iverson walks in and starts the Atlas briefing before Keith can smack him again. He settles for glaring at his dumbass brother, who sticks his tongue out at him like the toddler he is, and then vows to pay attention to the meeting. He is the black paladin, after all.

He lasts four whole minutes.

It’s not his fault. If anything it’s Iverson’s fault. The meeting is boring as hell, and a quick glance around the meeting table shows that the only person paying attention is the note-taking robot Pidge made, and that doesn’t even count ‘cause it’s a robot. Several senior officers are outright sleeping. The MFE pilots are quietly passing around a game of dots. Hunk has blatantly pulled out an engineering project of his and is working on it in full and total view of Iverson (he still hates the man for what he did to Lance when they were cadets, claiming that since Lance has forgiven him, someone needs to hold a grudge). Pidge and Matt seem to be communicating in Morse code. Allura is directing her mice in some kind of acrobatic performance, and Coran is helping her. Shiro is trying to see how many spitballs he can land on Iverson’s blind side before he notices (he’s riding the line with 34). Lance is staring at Keith.

Lance is staring at Keith?

He startles when he meets Lance’s brown eyes, but Lance only smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave. Keith tilts his head in confusion, trying to wordlessly ask Lance why he’s staring, and also manage to keep his rapidly creeping blush under control.

(He likes it when Lance stares at him).

Lance squeezes his eyes shut instead of answering, and a moment later Keith feels a prodding in the back of his mind; a familiar presence, hot and fiery and all-encompassing.

Red.

He lets her in, lets her familiar feeling envelop his mind. She struts primly in his mindscape, nosing at Black as if to say I was here first, so just remember who’s boss.

Black lets her prance around with fond amusement.

Before Keith can ask her why she’s pushed her way through — not that he minds, he’s happy to have her, but she hasn’t felt the need to visit him in a while so he’s curious — he feels another presence almost knock on his subconscious, request access to his mindscape.

Red has…brought someone else?

Can she do that?

Red looks at him flatly, like his doubt is a personal offence. Before she can start admonishing him, the presence pushes again; not urgent, but insistent, almost as if someone is knocking on the door of Keith’s mind and doesn’t want to be ignored.

Beyond curious, Keith lets them in.

The second Keith opens his mental door, it’s like they rush in, flowing in like the white rapids of a river, strong and fast and excited, cool and bubbly. There’s so much of them that it takes Keith a good couple of minutes to conceptualise just who exactly has followed Red into Keith’s mind. The rushing water takes shape into a person; tall, gangly, broad-shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, freckles spotted over their nose and grin wide and sparking.

Keith gapes.

“Lance?!”

“Is everything alright, Kogane?”

Keith blinks open his eyes to find the entire meeting table staring at him, expressions ranging from confused to knowing to outright teasing. He realises all of a sudden that he’s spoken aloud, and not only spoken but called Lance’s name out, loudly, for seemingly no reason, in the middle of a crowded meeting.

His face flames.

“All is well,” he chokes out. “Please carry on.”

Iverson narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but eventually shakes himself and continues. Keith stays bright red for several minutes, staring pointedly down at the table, ignoring the various sniggers he can hear with every ounce of his effort. Unfortunately, some of the teasing laughter is inside his actual literal brain, what the fresh fuck, so it’s a fruitless endeavour.

Are you still freaking out? the Lance inside his head (???) asks.

What in the gall brained fuck is going on, Keith thinks back at it, looking at Real Lance in a decent mix of panic, confusion, and the actual phonetic sound that an exclamation point mixed with a question mark makes in your brain. Real Lance has his eyes closed, brows creased in concentration, and the tiniest of smirks pulling up at his lips.

Close your eyes and meditate, doofus, Mind Lance tells him. I’m using a lot of energy right now so I don’t have the space to try and reign you up here.

Despite the fact that Keith is so confused that a thousand professors could not explain his current situation to him in any way that makes sense, he listens, closing his eyes tightly and visualizing his physical bond with Black, like he does when he flies. It helps him sink into the semi-astral plane of existence, usually so he can meld with his lion and the rest of the team when they’re forming Voltron, but whenever he’s trying to reach his own mindscape, too. He’s still aware of his physical body, he’s not quite projected out of it, but he’s not wholly in it, either. Most of his essence is focused on seeing as his mind sees, without the constraints of the physical plane.

“Took you long enough,” Lance huffs.

“What the fuck,” Keith responds.

He packs quite a lot of questions into that what the fuck, he thinks. Like ‘what the fuck are you doing here’, for starters. Or ‘what the fuck just happened with the water and Red and everything else’, if he wants to be specific. Or, if he really just wants to cover everything, ‘what the fuck is happening’ might just do it.

“Your internal monologue fascinates me,” Lance informs him.

Keith flushes. (Does he flush in his mindscape? Does he have the blood and physical body necessary in order to flush? Or is he just embarrassed, so his perception of himself is blushing because that’s the only way he knows how to conception use the feeling? God, Voltron magic shit is so weird. Keith lowkey misses mapping energies alone in the desert and wondering if he was delusional.)

“Stop hearing my internal monologue,” he orders.

Lance pouts. “You’re no fun. I want to hear all the juicy gossip you think about me because you’re too emotionally stunted to say it.”

Lance is only joking, Keith knows he is. He’s leaned forward slightly, like he always does when he’s teasing, and his smile is close-mouthed, unserious.

But Keith of course panics anyway.

A million snapshots of Lance flash through his mind — Lance laughing, head thrown back, barely holding himself up; Lance dancing around the briefing room at two in the morning as he plans a mission; Lance with his tongue stuck out of his mouth, concentrating hard on tiny knitting needles and tiny little mouse-sweaters; Lance with tears shining in his eyes, glancing at a projection of Earth, long before they finally made it home; Lance dirty and hurt, cradled to his chest as Keith runs him too a pod after Sendak. A thousand moments of Lance when Keith was fondest of him, when just looking at him made the ballads Keith grew up with play in his head.

He hurries to shove the memories in an obscure corner of his head and prays that Lance doesn’t see them.

“Can you actually hear my thoughts,” Keith asks, a little desperately.

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I get emotional impressions, but that’s about it. I can’t even see anything in here expect you and Red, basically. And Black. Hi, Black!” He waves excitedly to the lion, who sits regally in the dead centre of Keith’s mindscape. She turns to the red paladin in amusement, nodding her head once. Lance beams.

Keith feels a rush of fondness for him so potent it makes his heart hurt, a little.

“Woah,” Lance says, looking at him a little wide-eyed. “I felt that, Willie Nelson. Holy softie.”

“How and why are you here,” Keith says, blatantly changing the subject and not giving even one single shit about being subtle about it. Lance is looking at him too closely.

Luckily, Lance indulges him, or is too excited about being here in general to resist talking about it.

“Isn’t it so cool?” he gushes. “I’ve been working on it with Red for ages! I figured since we all have that emotional bond with each other and the lions during Voltron, and we keep our lion bonds outside of Voltron, we should be able to communicate with each other outside of Voltron, too. Red wasn’t sure if it was possible but she helped me try, and I figured I’d try with you first because it would be the easiest, since we’re so close and all. And you’re more likely to let me in your head.”

He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s obvious that they are so close, and that Keith loves him so much that he wouldn’t mind Lance in his head, not really.

The worst part is that he’s right.

With anyone else, this would feel like an invasion of space. Keith would be defensive immediately, angry even, throwing them right the hell out of his head and yelling at them as he does it.

But with Lance?

He’s a little shocked, sure. And worried, that Lance is going to see all the parts of him that Keith isn’t ready yet to show him; the parts that he doesn’t yet know how to say, how to show. The parts of Keith that soften every time Lance smiles at him, the parts that light up with gleeful competition whenever Lance eggs him on, the parts that chafe and ache but smooth over when Lance sits with him quietly when he’s hurting.

Keith knows that Lance knows that he loves him. He doesn’t exactly hide it. He’s not sure he would, even if he could.

But he’s not ready to tell him. Not yet.

He takes a deep breath. (Or whatever the mindscape equivalent is).

He knows Lance won’t go looking.

“And you decided to pull this telepathy shit in the middle of a random meeting?” Keith teases, allowing some of the worry to slip away.

This is, after all, cool as shit, even if it’s weird.

“It’s not an important meeting!” Lance defends. “It’s boring, and I needed entertainment! Besides, Pidge’s bot will give us all the notes anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Slacker. Some right hand man you are.”

Keith spends the rest of the dead-boring meeting teasing and chatting with Lance in his mindscape, which is great because he both gets to mess with Lance, which is always a net positive, because he has the upper hand in his own head, and because he gets to look like he’s paying attention in the meeting and actually be completely checked out.

“Oh, hey, I think the meeting’s ending,” Lance says. “I can hear Iverson winding down a bit.”

“Time to get out of my head then, you squatter?”

Lance rolls his eyes, waving to Red to get her attention. She stalks over, nosing him in the head like a mother cat to her kitten. Lance bats her away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll head out. But only because I’m not practiced enough at this thing, so if I stay in your head it’ll look like I’m frozen or something. Once I figure out how to look normal and still beam my thoughts into your head, you’re never going to be without me even once in your life.”

Lance is teasing again. Keith can tell. But still, he’s totally helpless to stop what comes out next.

“I’d be okay with that.”

He sounds so besotted he wants to smack himself. But before he can even have the space to be embarrassed, he feels a wave of emotions that aren’t his — Lance’s, from the other end of their connection, a mix of embarrassment and selfish pleasure so thick that Keith can feel it even though they’re in Keith’s mindscape.

His jaw drops.

Lance wants Keith’s undivided attention. He’s preening over it.

“I gotta go,” Lance says hastily. “Uh, meeting ending and everything.”

Before Keith can so much as stop him, he feels the same strange feeling as before, the cool, rushing water of a river, only this time it’s flowing out of of his head rather than into it. Lance has retreated hastily from his mindscape, and Red follows, much slower and much more smug, visibly laughing at her paladin.

When Keith opens his eyes again, Lance is bright red, and won’t meet his eyes.

Keith smiles. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to spill his guts.

———

part two

[pruneunfair]

Let's talk about a villainess from another genre of media: Stella

Stella is a lot more complicated compared to villainesses I talked about in the past. Mostly because those characters were from manhwa that were easy to pick apart and seperate into well written and bad written. However similarly to characters like Rashta and Marianne, Stella isn't agreed by the entire fandom to be awful. She's a character people either really love or really hate.

I watched Helluva Boss since it still had 6 episodes and it was more focused on the assassinations instead of drama, and Stella was always a character that stood out because she seemed like the most one-note. Everyone else had at least one other trait that made them actual people but Stella was always just the crazy wife who trys to kill Stolas over him cheating. (Even as a child, they show her strangling two dogs)

If you take away the whole trying to kill her husband part though, Stella was very reasonable. I mean she was cheated on and humiliated at her own tea party in front of her friends, I'd be mad too.

BUT I was also not against Stella becoming a villain. I think she's pretty funny as one with her absolute Diva attitude. There were early signs that she was more upset about the fact that Stolas cheated with an Imp rather then the fact that he cheated at all, and in general was hyped up to be one of those prissy rich villain's.

that being said though, after watching Sinsmas, I'm not too sure if Vivzie is looking to actually make Stella an interesting villain and is instead using her as a straw man to distract people from criticizing what is obviously her favorite ship.

There were tons of opportunities for Stella that could vastly improve her character. For some examples that don't make her a villian. I once saw a fan comic that released around the time Ozzies was released and it was basically about Stella stealing Stolas's eyeliner as revenge and then lounging at a hotel or an apartment swirling some wine. Petty but still amusing, didn't make her a full blown antagonist and it also had a little scene that showed her love for her daughter.

If they really wanted to keep Stella as a villain then they could at least do it better. Something I really liked at the end of mastermind was during the scene where Octavia is trying to run after her dad after seeing him on trial on TV, Stella shows up appearing sympathetic and hugs her crying daughter while smirking. I thought that was a pretty good way of showing how parents purposely keeping their children away from the other parent to get some sort of control out of it.

Then in Sinsmas she isn't even trying to be subtle about it and just laughs obnoxiously with her brother about Stolas trying and failing to contact Octavia RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Like... if they wanted to make this scene feel like the last one, couldn't Stella have changed both her and Octavias phone numbers and then lie that she told Stolas when she didn't so she could further gaslight Octavia into thinking that her dad must've abandoned her for another man?

Sinsmas also tries to make it look more justified by using some random homophobic demon to bitch and complain about her ex husband leaving her for another man. I see what they were probably trying to go for but if I'm being honest.. it seemed more like a cheap attempt to get Stella fans to shut up.

So with both the fact that her backstory has yet to be revealed along with the writing quality of the series, theres a lot of people who defend Stella and even make backstories for her to explain why she is the way she is. Usually through headcanons and straight up giving her the Beatrice Horseman treatment. The only downside of this part of the fandom that I noticed is that they justify ALL of Stella's behavior with no form of critical thinking.

For me, I'm on a middle ground with Stella. I don't mind that she became a villain but I don't think Vivzie is really all that interested in making something interesting out of her like she does with all her previous villains. Like I said, I think Stella is just a bunch of moral scapegoating at this point. Something awful to distract you from the fact that Stolitz was getting pretty toxic as a ship.

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 20

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

TRAILER 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

“Like a drama, huh?” I exclaim, after several minutes in silence.

Sunghoon took me to an ice skating rink, actually I should have expected that. More like I didn't expect him to take me there.

“Korean men are pretty mundane, but it still works.” Sighs Hoon.

Since we walked in, his expression has become more serene, which shouldn't surprise me, after all I know well that this is his past, that before he became an idol he was a promising artist skater, yet I find myself looking for his expression so peaceful watching the rink.

“Why did you bring me here? I don't even know how to skate.” “I suspected as much, so I can teach you.” I turn all red, inevitably. “T-Then it's really like in dramas…. What is this, a date?” I laugh nervously. Sunghoon stares at me, turned sad again. “It would be nice if it was, wouldn't it?”

Park Sunghoon rented the entire rink, as in kdramas, brought me here with the intention of spending time together, as in dramas dates, yet I still don't understand what he's getting at - really.

“Why are we here, Sunghoon?” I ask again.

He walks up to me, grabs me by the wrist gently and leads me to benches where two pairs of skates are already resting. I am curious and surprised, also because he did not ask me what my shoe size was, yet the size is right. Does that mean he checked for himself while I was getting ready? This is a nice thing….

“I wanted to let you know that I'm not completely a shit. I tend to be less of a shit when I'm in places I like, doing things I like, with people I like.”

I am a human being, lord in heaven, how am I supposed to react while Park Sunghoon says such nice things, kneeling in front of me to help me put on my skates? I can't look away from him, my heart beats as if fireworks are exploding inside my chest.

“Do you like me? As a person?” “I'm not sure. - He snorts, proudly, clutching the straps of his skates. - I'd like to understand that.” “And do you have an idea... what you want?” “Currently - he answers quickly - I just want to teach you how to skate.”

That's not an answer, but it's okay, I guess.

“You're acting weird.” I smile amusedly as he laces up his skates. He seems to smile back, then turns serious. “Treasure these memories, you'll probably never see me so kind again.”

This looks like the usual Sunghoon, and for some reason this reassures me.

When he gets up, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the rink. He tells me to pay attention as he shows me how to move my legs so I don't fall. As I watch him behind the little wall that separates the floor from the frozen floor, Sunghoon begins to skate with more confidence, moving away from me to make a full circle of the rink.

I look at him and can't help smiling. He looks happy as a child, a gruff child who barely hints at smiling, but to see such an expression on Hoon's face is fantastic.

I feel like catching up with him, but I'm not sure if I can.

I start walking, holding on to the dividers, actually managing to keep my balance well. He is too far away, too distracted, surely he hasn't skated in a long time and will want to catch up a bit.

“Look what I can do!” He calls to me, excited.

I turn to be speechless when Sunghoon leaps up doing three piruettes on himself, before balancing perfectly on the rink again.

“Fuck! I'm too good!” He says it to himself. I burst out laughing. “You're also modest!” I yell at him. Sunghoon flashes a smirk as he approaches me. “I'm just being realistic. Do you know how long it's been since I did that? Years!” I can't stop smiling, I like this expression he gives me, I like his genuine tone. “Don't do it anymore though, if you get hurt it's a problem.” “I might get some rest.” He sighs amusedly, taking me by both hands and forcing me to let go of the dividers. “I'm not ready to skate without holding on yet!” I point out to him. “Then hold on to me.”

Needless to say, my chest implodes, my brain smoking, as I stare at him bewildered. He pulls me toward the center of the rink, not noticing that I am staring at him so intently.

“You really like skating, huh?” “More than being an idol.” He admits, sounding sincere. “Do you really think so? “ Hoon watches me then sighs. “I don't. It wasn't my decision to be an idol, though.”

Revealing something of this caliber, Sunghoon continues to hold me by one hand, but the other moves it to my side and then stands behind me.

“Didn't you say it was your choice?” I ask him, since that is what he has said on several public occasions. I can feel his breath on my neck as he gently nudges me to skate. “I never opposed it, but it was my parents who wanted it. Now I haven't seen them in a very long time, but they are still happy that I am here.” “They think it was the best thing for you, don't they?” “What parent who loves his child leads him to become an idol? - He asks sarcastically. - Everyone in Korea knows how we live, they knew it too. Just being a champion wasn't enough.”

I turn away, it will be gruesome but I want to see Sunghoon's expression, I want to see if he shows signs of pain, of sorrow, and honestly, I wish I could console him.

But Sunghoon is cold, his face is calm and relaxed, perhaps because he is no longer suffering from this now. Yet I can perfectly see his saddened eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

"You're not happy, are you?" "There is no such thing as happiness, Amanda."

It is not that he is sad when he says this, which is really sad, so I stand there staring at him confused and bitter.

After a while, when I have started to move my feet on the icy rink on my own, Sunghoon tries a few more laps and shows me that he hasn't lost his skating skills at all; in fact, he has maintained them perfectly.

I thought I'd do worse, but my brain probably still remembers how to skate on rollerblades, even though it's been at least ten years since I've used them, and maybe I only used them a few times as a kid.

He comes over, moves gracefully and confidently, watches me, and approaches me again. "You haven't fallen yet." He notes. I smile embarrassed. "You should be happy. Then I won't bother you and you can enjoy yourself." Sunghoon looks at me with a really puzzled expression, I get the impression that he thinks I'm a fool, but I don't understand why. "Do you think I can't come by myself if I feel like it?" I blink, curious. "So?" "So I'll wait for you to fall."

I am completely stunned by these words, why on earth would he want me to fall? I don't know, maybe it's some strange perversion of his, but I'm not so much frightened as amused. I back away with difficulty as he begins to reach out and grab me with a grin on his face.

"Stop!" I burst out laughing and move awkwardly. On the contrary, the icy rink is his realm; he reaches me without difficulty. "You just have to fall a little! Why do you have to be so good?" "By nature I am good at many things." I answer, although a second later I realize that this sentence could very well have many other meanings. In fact, he seems to take a few of them and gets a little annoyed in his face as he closes the distance between us by grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. "Oh yeah? - he asks me in a whisper. - And what else are you good at?"

I swallow, he is so close that I don't know whether to look at his eyes or his beautiful lips, but luckily I don't have time to decide, because Sunghoon grabs me by the hips and pushes me to the ground, using his own arms to break my fall. The result is that even though I'm not hurt, I land on the floor and he straddles me.

"W-What are you doing? You'll freeze your knees." I say. Sunghoon watches me in silence for a few seconds, then sighs tiredly. "Do you feel cold?"

Not really. This situation has certainly warmed my poor confused body, which biologically cannot avoid burning for him. His wistful, cold eyes, his beautiful lips, and those elegant, beautiful little moles on his face, he's someone you can't get tired of looking at.

"No…" I answer under my breath. "I don't know how things are going to be from now on. - He says in a stern tone, looking at me. - But it's not bad being here with you." "Did you ever go skating with Wonyoung?" He seems surprised by my question, but quickly composes himself and clears his voice. "Yes, I suggested it to her. She can't skate and was afraid of getting hurt, so we didn't go."

Basically, what do I care? Why did I ask him? And why should I feel sad when he obviously asked his incredible, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend to go skating? It was the obvious thing to do.

Should I have just been happy to know that being here was "not bad"?

"Why did you bring me here?"

Sunghoon seems to have had enough of my questions, so he silences me by kissing. He cups my face with both palms as he pushes himself toward me, stealing kiss after kiss from me, even though I seem well disposed to give them. Sunghoon kisses like I would expect from a prince, as they call him, he is elegant even when he puts his tongue in my mouth.

He sucks on my lips and I, who shouldn't be doing this, stretch my hands over his arms covered by the denim jacket he wears, clinging to him as I try to breathe, but still not wanting to interrupt this moment. I long for it so much that I don't realize how serious such a thing is.

It would be enough to think of Heeseung to wake me up from this spell, but Sunghoon's presence in this moment is so heavy that I can't think.

I just feel that I want him.

The crotch of his jeans has swelled, I noticed in passing, and his hands have also become more impatient, but I hope he won't do it on the ice….

"I think bringing you here is the worst of my mistakes." He admits after pulling away.

It shouldn't, but it hurts. I notice he's started to stare at me, but even though I look back, I can't say anything.

"Don't you care?"

He is always so sad, I realize now.

"I wish I could say what I want." I admit, this time I am the sad one. "Here, you and I can be whoever we want to be."

My eyes are probably speaking, but I don't know what they're saying, although I can see that his reaction is to kiss me again. I am cold, but my heart is warm.

I put a hand on his chest and push him away.

"But then we'll get out of here."

Sunghoon gets angry and kisses me again, harder. I can't resist him right away, I'm so stunned by his touch, then I try to wriggle out, meekly at first, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, instead he lunges at me.

"So what?" He asks in a whisper as he starts to bite my earlobe.

A shiver runs through my body and I feel a sting, first in my stomach, then between my legs, and it is intense, impetuous, like the kisses he gives me.

I try to push him, I don't know with what force either, however, this irritates him to the point that he grabs both my wrists, pinning them at my face level. He watches me, but I can only glimpse his eyes behind the thick bangs.

“Don't refuse me.” “D-Don't..” I look away. He lets go of my wrist to grab my face, cupping my cheeks and forcing me to look at him. “Don't refuse me, Amanda.” “Why shouldn't I?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Reject me for anyone, for Jake, for fucking Jay, but not for Heeseung.” He raises his voice, but I'm not afraid.

He... his eyes glaze over.

"You're not really interested in me, are you? - I ask again and he lets go. - You just want to take away who you think he wants". Sunghoon's face gets even darker. "No, you're an idiot."

I honestly stand there stunned (again), my body growing colder while my chest is warmed by these new faces I discover from Sunghoon.

"It's just that he has everything! For once I'm the one who wants something?"

Is he admitting that he wants me or is he calling me "thing"? Either way, why don't I react appropriately, as I should, by pushing him away? He hides his eyes and his mouth is turned down, looking so sad at me.

"It is not his fault that he was born with many talents. - I say, and I can barely see Sunghoon's offended look. - But it's not your fault either. You're not angry with him." "Yes, I damn well am - he replies, getting up from the floor and pulling me up by my wrists - I'm mad at him. Only he would pay the debt?" "Only he said he would... in front of all of you." I remind him, sighing and turning away. I do not want to hear his words, or I am sure I will give up. He comes closer and squeezes my wrist, forcing me to look at him more closely. "Maybe he just said it in front of you."

I stare at him, at a loss for words for the umpteenth time. He has to stop saying the right things, he has to stop saying them with this face, with this level of perfection, elegance.

He really looks like a prince, I can't stop staring at him. Even the wound that I will ignore, the wound that Heeseung caused him and which is essential not to show too much concern… seems to be drawn, part of the make-up, even the imperfections become perfect on him.

Fortunately, he is the first to seek my lips, and that is the only thing I can use to defend myself, because I want his mouth so badly that I cling to his shoulders, to his stupid leather jacket, for the umpteenth time.

He does not release his grip, on the contrary, he continues and pushes me to the bench, where I fall, sitting down. He takes off his jacket and stares at me seriously.

"Today is my turn, don't refuse me." He repeats this to me again, then bends down to take off his skates, and while kneeling in front of me, he starts to take off mine as well. "Sunghoon… you…" I don't get to finish the sentence, because still kneeling at my feet, he decides to rest his face between my thighs, and it's strange, because it awakens a maternal instinct in me. "If you don't want him to know, I won't tell him. I mean it." He suddenly whispers softly.

My hands move freely to his head, I sink them into his hair, caress him. This is such an intimate thing.... even more than sex.

"No….except for the fact that you're blatantly lying, if we do this…. I have to tell him." Hoon lifts his eyes to me, he is offended, irritated, outraged by my last statement. "You… do you like him? Do you really want to be loyal to him?" Now I'm the one looking at him, so close I can see myself in his dark eyes. "Yes. But I feel the same way about you." He is silent for a long time. "What?" He just asks. "I.... want be loyal to you, too."

Sunghoon stands up and backs away nervously. He stands with his back to me for several seconds, which turn into dozens, then a whole minute. I have no idea what he is thinking, but I question his conclusions to avoid coming to my own.

"What do you want to do now?" "What do you mean?" I ask him confused. Hoon turns around, I can barely see his gaze, but it still manages to penetrate me. "What am I supposed to do now that I can't even get angry?" He asks, but it seems more to himself than to me.

He approached me impetuously, taking off his shirt and standing shirtless in front of me. He doesn't kiss me right away, I can see his pupils lingering on my lips, then he takes my face again and rests his own on top of mine.

"F-Forget it..." I try to stop him, but he moves to my neck, caressing my palm with his broad fingertips, while with his other hand he pushes me to him, from behind. "Don't refuse me, it's not what you want." He says softly before sucking on my earlobe.

I moan, not only at that. Meanwhile, he has moved his hand to slip it into my fucking panties.... his hands are much faster than his tongue, he only needs to brush against me for me to lose all the strength in my body.

Sunghoon pushes me against the wall and crushes me against it. "Will you tell him too? That you want to be loyal to me too…" He whispers again as his crotch presses against my thigh, my hip. I try to push him away, even though my mouth is open from the moans he makes me emit. "S-Stop…" "Were you trying to make me jealous with that Heeseung thing?" He asks, this shameless man, thrusting a finger inside me. I pant and cling to his shoulders. "S-Sunghoon…" "You succeeded." He whispers again.

Hell, it's hard enough to resist him when he doesn't talk…. When he starts doing that, I won't be able even think.. Maybe I've already give up, at least when he slides his second finger into my pussy and applies more pressure with his wrist. Groaning, I try to bite my lip so as not to give him the pleasure of hearing me moan because of him, but it's really hard.

"It must have been hard today... wasn't it?" He asks me amused.

Then he takes mine with his free hand and moves it to his obviously swollen, almost vibrating cock under the high-waisted jeans he wears. These emphasize his narrow hips, his slim pelvis, he looks seriously drawn.

Sunghoon is still kissing me, our touches getting wetter and wetter, wetting each other with our mixed saliva. Sunghoon likes to suck my lips, especially the lower ones. He also likes to lick my neck and use his lips to bite me in a purely erotic way.

"You wanted it so much that you even touched yourself. - He says, and I'm surprised to hear him say that, but I don't have time to retort because he's slipping a third finger inside me, preparing me thoroughly for his coming…. - When you heard me make another girl scream, you couldn't help fingering yourself, imagining she was you…"

How shameful! No! How does he know, by the way? But at the moment I am so nervous and embarrassed that I try to push him harder, but this unnerves him and he pushes me against the wall to tighten his grip on me.

"Where are you going? You must be punished... for making me jealous."

Well, I just lost. I don't argue, his hand moves too fast, I make ridiculous noises in front of him, who seems to sneer as he sees me defeated and vulnerable in his fingers.

"Y…you didn't…punish me enough?" I slurp like a drunk, saliva dripping down the sides of my mouth from my panting but also from his wet kisses. "I haven't even started." He replies, finally pulling his fingers out as I come up for air.

Not that he gives me time to reply. He forces me to turn away, my back to him. He pulls up my sweater, then I hear him unbutton his jeans as he presses his hand against my head to keep me from moving.

"I'm really mad, Amanda." He reminds me as he slides his cock between my thighs.

Man, it's so thick that I can wrap it between my legs, even pretty tight. He must like that, because he starts to move his pelvis, stimulating my clit, but not yet entering my pussy, which is trembling because of him.

"I'm not sure this kind of punishment is okay - he whispers in my ear, now panting - for a slut like you."

No... I... really, he must not use this card against me. If he says it normally, it's seriously a problem, but if he says it while forcing me to the wall, using my whole body to literally jerking off, I'm on my knees before him in any kind of sense.

“I bet Heeseung also calls you that when he fucked you, right? Because you guys fucked before his turn, didn't you?” He asks, before pushing his long cock hard into me without even asking permission.

I scream, seriously. It's so big I feel like I'm struggling to keep it all in in this position, I can feel it in my belly, in my sternum, even though he's not moving it yet I'm already moaning. My pussy is drooling over him.

“You like it if they call you that, don't you? - He asks again. You can tell…” “St...Stop-!” I can't finish the sentence, because Sunghoon has moved his hand from my head to grab my shoulder, while with the other he holds my hip. “How can you… be so tight?” He almost seems to be complaining, but I really feel humiliated.

And yet I like it.

"You have to suffer a little now, you have to do it for me." He whispers, forcing me to arch my back to get him in better.

It feels great and terrible. He begins to move inside me without much care for manners, grabbing my shoulder while he suddenly squeezes my left breast with one hand, I can only try to open my legs more to make it easier. My moans soon turn into primal groans.

"You like it so much… It's disgusting." He laughs, although there is a hint of instability in his voice. "Stop…" "Do you want me to stop? - He asks me, thrusting harder with his hips until I scream with each stroke. - Beg me, beg me to stop."

I try, a few times. Really, just two. Finally, his blows are so violent, but lustful, that I can't say anything anymore.

Sunghoon speaks less and less; as he speeds up, his words diminish, but his sighs increase, and his voice is simply exquisite.

His full breaths, those moments when he seems to be uttering verses of effort, of difficulty, fill my eardrums. I want to hear him over and over again. But he doesn't experience it as poetry, quite the opposite.

Sunghoon hits harder and harder between my legs, clinging to my skin, and I can feel his sharp nails sinking into my hips or around my neck, which he continues to cling to as he literally smashes into me without circling too much.

Suddenly he stops, begins to giggle as he reaches for the back of my neck, his length seeming to tear into me.

"Maybe … there's something I'm better at than Heeseung hyung, Amanda?"

Then he starts again, louder than before, and I can only try to breathe between the primal screams that escape my lungs.

I don't know how long this has been going on, I know I can't control my knees anymore, I feel weak, confused, dizzy, and I feel only pleasure. A lustful pleasure, a pleasure that runs down all my limbs like blood, I am unable to speak, unable to move, but I can continue to hold on to the wall so that he can continue to enjoy me as long as he wants.

"Don't you want to talk to me?" He asks me, also exhausted, I can feel it. "W-What … ah … aha … what do you want me to … say?" Sunghoon bends his back, I don't know how it's possible, but I feel his cock even deeper, I feel completely split open. "That you go crazy for me. That you want me. That you love how I fuck you and that yes, I fuck you better than Heeseung hyung." "I don't… - I pant, it's not easy for me to talk - I'll never be… the way you want me to be… …. And… n-no… you don't fuck me better than…"

He doesn't want me to finish the sentence, which can be deduced from the fact that he pulled me away from the wall by grabbing my neck, pulling out his dick and doing it suddenly, it was like I was suddenly emptying.

Sunghoon laughed with a blank face as he watched my shattered expression, completely distraught by his actions. He must feel very satisfied, the asshole.

He lies down on the floor, and I didn't expect this from a little prince like him, leans back on his elbows and then smilingly points to his big, swollen cock, reddened with use, veiny and so wet.

"Go ahead, sit down." "N-No." I mumble, even though I can't get a clear head and keep looking at the shape of his cock, it's so beautiful, and then his stomach, his pubic hair, those thighs, my God. "I said sit down." He repeats, more seriously.

I swallow, unable to look him in the face. There's no point in stopping now, and I really want to sit on his legs, on his full balls. I take off the jeans that have been around my ankles, and the sound of him giggling humiliates me even more.

"Good girl - he says under his breath as I bend over to sit with my back to him. - No, no. I need to see your face. Turn around."

These... these are orders.

I have no dignity left, except to cover my face as much as possible with my hair down, which I cannot do. I sit down slowly, letting his cock in more gently than he did, letting the muscle with its veins run tight between my pussy lips.

He has this satisfied grin on his face and it unnerves me to know that I was the one who offered it to him. Whatever he understood from the conversation earlier, it must have cheered him up, and not just for that.

Damn.

"Oh yeah, put it all. Like this." He urges me, whispering, watching me closely as his dick sinks into my pussy.

I feel full again, I am full again, of him. I want to move my hips as fast as possible, I want to continue enjoying, but it's really hard, she was already so sore from him.

"Good... all of it." He reminds me as he goes every last inch back into my belly. "Ah… it's… so big." "You like it because it's big, right? - He laughs again, I'm definitely going too slow for him. - Let me see how much you like it."

Oh no…I have obviously lost.

My hips begin to move, awkwardly, but faster and faster, he is surprised by this sudden change of pace, and I can hear him breathing, louder and louder. It's almost as if his dick has gotten even bigger, or maybe I've been going so long that my pussy has swollen up.

"Do you see that? Ah…your body is reacting like a bitch's."

Oh god, I'm going crazy. I hold on to his broad, hard pecs, they are hot and throbbing, he grabs me by the hips and eases my strokes to go even deeper. I feel like my soul is about to leave my body, but his is pounding into me until it feels like it's filling my belly, I can feel him pressing down on my throat, he's big, he's so hard.

"Fuck, I'd love to impregnate you. You would just become mine."

He says, and at the same time as my unbelievable, psychedelic orgasm, Sunghoon empties himself completely inside me for a few dozen seconds, his sperm flooding me, warming me up, at one point so much that it comes out of my pussy while his cock is still inside me. My whole belly heats up, I feel each spurt splashing into my soul.

I collapse, I am tired, exhausted, he holds me in his arms, like during Heeseung's shift. His cock is still inside me, throbbing, I don't think he's going to cum anymore... but it's still very hard.

"Get ready. - He whispers, folding his legs and pushing me against his stomach as if he wants me closer. - We're just getting started."

Shit.

I hate this.

It's so… so damn wrong - that I like it.

NEXT CHAPTER:

[hannah-shipper-banana]

I, personally, will NOT tolerate any Ally Dawson slander. That’s my bby girl.

How can you say Austin cared more about her than she did for him? Girlie was most definitely in love.

Just for that, here are some things Ally did for him…

Season 1

. She forgave him for stealing her song.

.She literally forgave him for humiliating her on live TV AND agreed to be his songwriter even though they were literally like 14 years old.

. She fricking WROTE most of his songs for him despite the fact that she had a JOB and school and a life! She also went through a lot writing said songs.

. Everyone (especially Austin) was being a massive dick to her for not having a song despite that fact that she had a life of her own and a store to run and whatnot. That got me so mad. Poor girl was literally getting pressured by everyone.

. She encouraged Austin to do good things so that Tilly couldn’t get any bad footage of him.

.She attempted to perform,despite the fact that she had stage fright, so that Tilly would stop posing embarrassing footage of him. Even when he told her she didn’t have to go through with it, she still tried. (He eventually did it for her but its the thought that counts)

.Ally gave him Dougie the dolphin.

. She defended him and told him to hide when everyone thought Austin was the Mall thief. Home girl fully stood up to a whole mob by herself.

. She helped him overcome his fear of umbrellas.

. She forgave him for ‘accidentally’ playing her song on the radio and went through with his plan of Trish pretending to be her.

. She helped him get with Cassidy by writing him a song. (Yh the first one was bad but that’s literally what he told her to write. Heartbeat was a banger tho)

. SHE FRICKING GAVE UP THE CHANCE TO GO TO AN ELITE MUSIC SCHOOL (WITH A FULL SCHOLARSHIP) SO THAT SHE COULD CONTINUE TO WRITE SONGS FOR HIM! AND HE WASN’T EVEN THAT BIG YET!

Season 2

. She performed with him (despite the fact that she had stage fright) by pretending to be Taylor Swift.

. She bungee jumped off a bridge with him (yh it was to cover up her lie but…) so that he could make a good impression with the magazine editor.

. Ally was fully ready to accept her punishment from her dad so that Trish and Dez could buy Austin more time so he can run home before his parents get home (yh he still got in trouble but that was only because the fan page alerted his parents, he would’ve gotten away with it) Yes I know Austin was selfless this whole episode but Im trying to prove a point here ok? Also can I just say it was so obvious they liked each other from this episode

.She helped him plan a date FOR ANOTHER GIRL despite the fact that she started having feelings for him. And she pulled out all the stops too because she knew he liked Kira

. She could’ve outed him then and there to Kira that they kissed but she literally just walked away.

. Ally wasn’t petty or mad when she thought he chose Kira over her. She was accepting.

. Ally still wrote a song about him even though she was a little mad at him. (He then serenades her and wins her back with said song)

.Ally still offered to write him a song (the only time she could was 4am) despite having her own career to focus on, and he declined. And at the last minute offered to give him one of hers but he though they were too girly.

. Home girl was ready to give up her song (the most personal one she’s ever written) to Kira, so that Kira could consider asking Jimmy to sign Austin again. (Kira is a literal sweetheart and let Ally sing it herself but…) Also Austin was fully ready to let Ally take his place at Starr Records but Ally wasn’t having that either.

. Ally gave him his own songbook to write his music in.

. Ally wanted him to enjoy his youth, so convinced him to stay on the basketball team despite what Jimmy said.

. She helped him makeover his idol Jackson Lowe and get him back into stardom

. She forgave him for meeting with another songwriter despite the fact that he was being a drama queen and she had more of a right to be mad at him.

. She was ready to give up making her debut album just so that she could go on tour with him but Trish had to convince her not to.

Season 3

. Ally fully came just to see them (mainly him) despite that she was working on her own music. Even if she saw him for 3 days she was ready to drop everything to see him.

. She decided to stay on tour with him because she missed him too much and didn’t want to miss his first tour. He begged her to stay and she did.

.She distracted the tour guide and the press on numerous occasions so that he can escape with the silver shoes and not get in trouble.

. Ally fully adopted an ALIAS and risked losing her record deal, just so she could continue to write songs for him. Even when she had second thoughts, Austin convinced her to go through with it and she did.

.She then stood up to her FUCKING BOSS and risked losing her record deal because she refused to stop writing songs for him. She was not going down without a fight.

. She helped him with his Physics project and even made the paper plane for him. (He didn’t end up using it but he would’ve gotten an A if he did)

. Ally was the one who helped Austin overcome his stage fright and basically the one who pulled him out of his funk.

.Ally was such a supportive wifey that episode. Firstly she tried to hide the magazines with the bad review on Austin so he wouldn’t be hurt. Then she always convinced him to look at it positively. Then she became Swag Master Ally to pull him out of his funk.

.Then she gave him the ultimate pep talk which convinced him to perform in front of the critic.

.And of course she was his safety net when he was performing so he wouldn’t get nervous. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

.She knew something was off about Dwayne and started to investigate which led her to seeing that he was obsessed with Austin. She then came up with the plan to distract the butler so they all could escape.

. Ally helps him convince Dwayne Wade he wrote the song so he could stop being obsessed with him.

.She convinced him to go to prom and enjoy himself with Piper even though she still had feelings for him and she knew Austin was hesitant to leave her alone.

. Ally (and Trish and Dez) helped him escape Brooke.

. She (with everyone else, but especially her) didn’t want her dad to sell Sonic Boom because its where they had the most memories (its also where she grew up) and hatched a plan to convince her dad not to go through with the sale. (This is more everyone’s doing but still)

. Ally broke up with him (she really didn’t want to) because she didn’t want Austin to lose his record deal. And we all know how that turned out.

Season 4

. Ally gave up going on her tour so that she could stay in Miami with him for senior year because she knew she was gonna miss him.

.She (with Trish and Dez) begged him not to go to military school.

. She was the one who came up with the Music Factory idea so Austin wouldn’t have to work at his parents’ store forever, and he could get to do what he loves.

. She pushed him to do better in his exam so he could graduate with them

.She still made the giant pancake for him even tho he lost the bet, because she loves him and wanted to give him something for believing in her (🥹)

. Ally stayed up all night baking the 6 tier wedding cake he wanted but she really didn’t need to because everything was already done. She felt guilty that she didn’t help out more and wanted to make it up to him. (She even got cake all over her trying to get it to school)

. This isnt a point really but can I just say Ally was the only one who figured out that Flermy was Austin right away. Home girl knows her man when she sees him.

.Ally forgave him (and Trish) for not believing that she could pull off the performance at the awards show.

. Ally convinces him not to get in his head too much about his first performance since the break. She kept telling him not to listen to the fortune teller so that he wont get anxious.

.She tried to get him to think positively no matter how many things were going wrong. She even tried to lie when something the the fortune teller came true, so that he wouldn’t think what the teller told him would be true too. (That was a mouthful). Girlie was stressed for him this entire episode.

.She was the main one convincing him not to believe the negative prediction from the fortune teller.

.She tries to help him get out of the glass box.

. Ally lets the Austin impersonator stay in the music factory as Austin is coaching him. (Despite him making mess and making noise)

. Ally forgives him for losing her library book and lying about it (it almost didn’t allow her to graduate but she fixed that)

. ALLY GIVES AUSTIN HER SONGBOOK AS A GOODBYE PRESENT. Everyone knows her songbook is her firstborn child (sorry Ava). The songbook was basically her personal diary and contained all their memories she would’ve written down.

. Not to mention that the songbook had pre written songs in it so his career could continue while she was at school.

. Ally admits that she continued to write songs about him even though they were broken up.

. They sing a song she wrote about him, and that’s the performance that gets them back together.

. She agrees to officially become a musical duo with him. (Im now realizing this is yet another parallel to the pilot)

Just because Austin was more open with his love (and more dramatic) it doesn’t mean that Ally loved him any less.

Anyone with eyes can see that they’re both just as in love (and obsessed) with the other.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 2)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter Two

 A week had passed since your wedding day and you were finally getting the hang of maneuvering around Billy in the penthouse you shared with him. Not that it was cramped, it was a fucking mansion really. A wedding gift from Alistair, and located in the same neighbourhood as him. Of course you saw right through the ruse. It was a convenient way to keep watch over you; you wouldn’t be surprised if the man had cameras in the suite too. You did spend a day looking for them but the search turned up empty. Oh well. If the old man got his jollies from that then so be it.

 After resigning last week, you had spent the last few days moving in and getting settled. It was the first time in years where you actually had time to relax and you took full advantage of it, lounging by the pool in the private rooftop terrace everyday. It was heaven, but you had to remind yourself not to get used to it. This was temporary, nothing more. Even with the millions you would be paid after the divorce, there was no way you’d spend it on something so frivolous like a luxury apartment. That wasn’t your style.

 You entered the suite and headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink. It was almost one in the morning and you had just returned from dinner with some of your college friends. They had arranged the get together last minute after finding out about your wedding. The first half of the night was just them drilling you about why you hadn’t told them you were dating Willliam Russo. One of them found out about the wedding through some bougie New York society blog and they were hurt you hadn’t invited them. Of course you couldn’t tell them about the arrangement, that was part of the NDA you signed with Alistair, so you made up some nonsense about the two of you falling madly in love after you treated Alistair and deciding to elope in a mad whim. It was bullshit, but your friends ate it up. You did feel a slight twinge of guilt for lying to them, but, whatever. They didn’t need to know everything about you.

 You poured a glass of wine for yourself and took a sip. An appreciative sigh escaped you. God, these rich snobs knew good wine. You had almost emptied the glass when you heard loud yelling. Curious, you sauntered outside the kitchen to find the source - a tall, leggy blonde storming down the spiral staircase, screaming.

 The entire upper floor was Billy’s territory, and he’d warned you to stay the fuck away from the very first day you’d moved in. Apparently the same instructions didn’t apply to the other woman.

 “Fuck you, Billy! I hope you fucking die!”

 Amused, you regarded the scene in front of you as Billy took his time coming down the staircase. He was dressed in a black wifebeater and jeans, and appeared unbothered by his date telling him to die. Damn. This was fun. You really did revel in other people’s drama.

 “Who the fuck are you?” the blonde demanded as soon as she saw you.

 “His wife,” you responded.

 The woman turned around to confront Billy who was now a few feet away. “You’re married? You slept with me yesterday, asshole!”

 “Ouch!” you remarked, making a face. “That’s harsh.”

 Billy cast a scornful glance at you before grabbing the other woman by the arm. “What part of we’re fucking done don’t you understand?” His voice was pure ice as he pulled her to the door. “Don’t show up here next time, Gwen. Or I’ll make sure you never book another modeling gig again.”

 You cocked your eyebrow as he practically threw the woman out before slamming the door shut in her face. Shit. That was cold. You felt badly for the Gwen woman, she didn’t deserve to be humiliated like this. Now the same asshole was approaching you, flashing the same disdain. A slow feeling of dread crept over you but you kept your calm, refusing to cower. “You really know how to treat your women well, don’t you?”

 Stopping right in front, eyes darkened with contempt, he looked down at you. “Next time keep your mouth shut in front of my guests.”

 You snickered. “Or what? You’ll throw me out too?”

 “Happily.”

 “We both know that won’t go over well with your Granddad.” Smug, you sidestepped past him and headed back to the kitchen. To your surprise, he followed behind you.

 “There’s only so much bullshit I’ll put up with.”

 You laughed, rinsing off the wine glass in the sink. “I think you’ll put up with a lot to get your hands on his money.”

 “You’re gonna judge me after you married a fucking stranger for money?”

 You turned towards him again. “Guess that makes us both gold diggers.”

 There was that beat of silence again, when his eyes grew darker and his expression turned blank and he simply stared at you like he was contemplating your torturous death in multiple ways.

 “Are you just gonna be hanging around here the entire time?” he finally asked. “I thought you were a fucking surgeon or something. Don’t you have people to cut up?”

 “I quit.”

 A snide sneer curved his lips. “Of course.”

 Usually bitchy comments just rolled off your back, but something about his tone struck a raw nerve. “I’ve been busting my ass for the last fifteen years to get to where I am. What the hell have you done?”

 “I’m a goddamn Marine. A scout sniper specialist with 134 confirmed kills.”

 “So you’ve killed people. Congratulations.”

 “Like you haven’t? Everyone you operated on come out alive?”

 Another sore spot for you. Bastard. “I’m not buying your bullshit about serving. People like you never actually risk your lives. You guys get the glory from slaughtering nations while it’s the poor folks who risk their lives on the battle front.”

 You were taken aback when he suddenly charged at you, cornering you against the kitchen island. Apparently you hit a nerve too if the twitch in his jaw was any indication. Gripping the island on either side of you, he held you hostage between his arms. “Don’t presume to know me.” His voice was a quiet roar, laced with vitriol and menace. The man wasn’t playing, especially when he lowered himself so he could meet your eyes directly. “You have no idea who I am. What I’m capable of.”

 “I hope you’re not threatening me, Billy. I don’t respond well to those.”

 “And I don’t respond well to being forced into marriage.”

 “Looks like we’re at an impasse then.” You crossed your arms, straightening your back, hoping the narrowing of distance between you two would force him to retreat. But he remained in place, his pitch-black eyes still locked on you. “Maybe we should call a truce to keep the peace.”

 “Not interested.” His eyes glided over your face, making it difficult for you to breathe under his scrutiny. “I’d rather destroy you.”

 You knew better than to goad him. You really shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. “Violence gets you all hot, husband?”

 Something almost resembling a smile curved his mouth “You’ll never know. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth.”

 Your lips formed an exaggerated pout. “Aw. How am I supposed to survive without vanilla sex?”

  The last thing you expected from him was a grin, an actual, legitimate smile that finally made you recognize he really was fucking hot. Yeah, yeah, everyone went crazy over his looks including your friends but his personality ruined his good looks for you. Except his smile somehow managed to overshadow all of that nastiness.

 “That mouth of yours is gonna get you in a lot of trouble, golddigger.”

 “It’s also got me out of trouble, sweetheart,” you fired back.

 “This isn’t gonna end well for you. You know that, right? The old man is using you to embarrass me. He thinks he can bring me in line by forcing this marriage on me – but I’m not gonna let him win, no matter what.”

 “Why not just play along? Sounds like all he wants is for you to stop fucking around and take some responsibility.”

 An impenetrable expression masked his face. “Take responsibility? No, he wants me to be his fucking puppet and I’m never going to be that.” The hard glint returned to his eyes. “And if this means I have to take you down, I will fucking do so happily.”

 There were a lot of things that didn’t make sense in this scenario. Like why a rich brat like Billy ended up serving in the military. You didn’t know if that really was true, you needed to find that out, but if it was, it didn’t gel. You would’ve expected him to follow in his family’s footsteps and go to some Ivy League school and work in the family business. But from the cursory stalking you did online, that didn’t appear to be the case.  Back then you didn’t care enough to find out more, but now your curiosity was definitely piqued.

 “Scared?” His snide tone brought you out of your reverie. “You should be. Shows that you’ve got some survival skills.”

 “You don’t need to worry about me. I always land on my feet.”

 “When this whole thing blows up on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 You smirked. “Warning noted.”

 He moved back, evidently disappointed by your flippant reaction. “You’re an idiot.”

 “I graduated top 2% of my class in medschool but, sure, I’m an idiot.”

 He sent you an irritated glance, making his way to the fridge. You watched as he took out some leftover food from the fridge and started warming it up. “Booksmart isn’t everything.”

 “You’re gonna wax poetic about street smarts now?” You snickered. “Spare me.”

 “Just, please, shut the fuck up while I eat. Your voice is giving me a headache.”

 You watched him as he ate some pasta, noting how careful he was not to leave a mess. Small, dignified bites, carefully wiping off residue sauce from the surface, and actually washing the dishes after he was done instead of leaving them in the sink for the maid to clean up. 

 A yawn escaped you and you realized how tired you were. The dinner had wiped your energy, and while the argument with Billy had reenergized you for a while, your exhaustion had returned. As an introvert, there was only so much you could take being around people.

 “Does Alistair know your brother’s got a record for pimping?”

 You stopped in your tracks. Fuck. A part of you had hoped Billy would be too lazy to have someone look into your family but obviously you’d underestimated him. You turned around to face him, careful to keep your blank mask on. Your brother had made some stupid, heinous mistakes as a teenager that you still hadn’t come to terms with, but you sure as hell weren’t going to let some rich prick lord it over you.

 “Of course. One of the reasons why he chose me for this shindig. That man really wanted to stick it to you.” You weren’t entirely sure, but a part of you suspected that really was the case. You were meant to be a punitive consequence for Billy and so far everything about you was an embarrassment to the man. Alistair really did strike gold when he landed under your care.

 Billy’s eyes were filled with cold heat as he continued his assault. “He pimp you out too?”

 Your temper flared. “Why? You interested?”

 “Not my type. I like ‘em with less meat and no sass.”

 You rolled your eyes. “Is this where I’m supposed to start crying because some rich brat called me fat?”

 “You know,” he mused, “this rich brat can sneak into your room at any time and kill you without a second thought.”

 “And this fat bitch could slip some poison into you that fucks up your entire body and kills you in the most painful way possible.”

 There was wry amusement in his voice, like he was actually enjoying this. Something you didn’t expect. “So you’ve put some thought into this.”

 “I keep a running list of the best poisons in my head.”

 “So not just a golddigging whore then. Potential killer too.”

 “I’m a woman of many layers.”

 “Clearly.”

 For the first time you saw his gaze linger down your body, not in disgust or disdain, but with actual interest, like he was seeing you in a whole new light. And all because you’d confessed to thoughts of murdering him. What a fucking psycho.

 Done with his bullshit for the night, you turned your back and exited the kitchen, all the while feeling his eyes boring into you.

To be continued...

A/N - Thank you for the lovely response to the first chapter. I know some people asked to be added to a taglist but Tumblr really hates my posts when I add pictures or tags in the body. If you’d like to follow this fic, I recommend you follow the tag “Grudgingly Yours”. 

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Thank you!

[nitewrighter]

How much does the fact that Moore himself considers "The Killing Joke" one of his greatest writing regrets factor into your thoughts on it?

I mean, I can see why he would have a lot of regrets about it because of the climate of the time and the infamous "cripple the bitch" exchange, and, obviously, because it steered the Joker as a character into the much darker and edgier version we know today and set a lot of nasty precedents in comics with a proliferation of violence against women as shock value. It basically created this situation where everyone wanted their writing to have the impact of Alan Moore, but unfortunately, they weren't Alan Moore and were in fact just kind of sexist dickbags for whom the actual horror and emotional impact of the dark content of the stories is transformed into the cheap and exploitative--I guess the TL;DR version of it is, Alan Moore is George R. R. Martin, but if GRRM realized his writing spawned 800 David Benioffs and D.B Weisses who would go on to define the fantasy genre for the next three decades. I'd be full of regret, too.

I think for me, not to like, disparage Moore or anything, but I do feel like the Comics Code created the atmosphere that was primed for him to have this massive splash on comics: Readers were hungry for stories with drama, lasting impact on characters, confrontation with uncomfortable questions that had long been more or less brushed off by virtue of the temporariness of the medium and the suffocating rules of the comics code. And Moore's content fit the bill.

If it wasn't Moore, it would have been someone else, but I'm honestly kind of glad it was Moore. It's even kind of funny in a morbid way, considering Moore was more or less over superheroes as a genre to begin with--but as I've talked about with my posts with early superman, the edges of superheroes as a genre is porous. I've talked about Superman being a Screwball romantic comedy in a sci-fi setting, so it's not unthinkable that Moore would end up dragging the conventions of the superhero genre to darker places by incorporating more elements of horror, pulp, crime noir, and even some Lynchian soap opera/gothic elements. I mean, it's equal parts fascinating and painful, because even though it sent comics down this dark copycat path, it really should have revealed how remarkable it is you can plug other genres' storytelling conventions into the superhero genre. Moore's stories slap not because they're Superhero stories, but because he's plugging superheroes into his stylistic/genre comfort zone.

But also the thing is, I'm one of those people who prefers Barbara Gordon as Oracle rather than Batgirl, and I do feel like the core of the Killing Joke is really more about the folie a deux of Batman and the Joker and I genuinely really like that. I also think that as we (rightfully) get caught up in the horror of the position Barbara is put in, we completely brush over the fact that Commissioner Gordon was literally being lead around naked on a leash. All the outrage I ever heard about the Killing Joke was Barbara getting crippled and the photos, literally no one mentioned Jim Gordon being lead around naked on a leash and kept in a circus cage! Like, is that not also a shocking violation of his personhood? I think both Gordons were meant to be seen as a unit, they were both humiliated and dehumanized, and they both represent two sides of Batman--Barbara representing that childish, powerful emotional core, the kid in a Halloween costume who hopes if they punch enough faces they can bring daddy back, and Jim representing Batman having to be an adult, having to recognize the boundaries of the law, and having to act as a guardian. Like, yes, Barbara and Jim, are obviously, to their credit, brilliant detectives, but they're also placed in these relationships to Batman of 'mentee' and 'Mentor/Partner.' For the Joker, it wasn't about using Barbara to hurt Batman and Jim, so much as it was about using *Barbara and Jim* to harm Batman. But that's also why ultimately the Joker's focus fell on Jim in relation to Batman--Jim Gordon represents these adult, institutional realities, the idea that ultimately you have to work to protect a society, and Joker wanted to use the adult who represents accountability to that society to prove his whole "One bad day" philosophy. the Joker basically goes through his most famous version of his whole "One Bad Day/Society is a Joke" spiel in that comic. I was going somewhere with this. This was going to link back to Moore somehow--Ah well. See above point of, "Genre-impact wise, I can see why he would have regret about it. But also I think those genre impacts were due in large part to people only valuing the story for its shock value and you can try to make yourself as simultaneously clear and representative of your personal style as possible, but that's not going to stop The Point from flying right over people's heads." Something something "Wow cool robot!" comic.

There is so goddamn much to unpack in The Killing Joke, both in its textual relations to the characters and the potential inspirations Moore was working from, and in its impact on comics. I feel like I'm gnawing on a big mutton bone.

[vegaspam]

until next time / part two / raven to jake

this is not a full fic! this is the text-post version of the letter photos from my fic over on my main blog @vivalas-vega that you can read here

Dear Jake,

I regret to inform you that your reputation does precede you, however I guess I have to thank you for your invasion of privacy because your letter made me laugh after a long weekend back home. I think your need to apologize flies in the face of everything I’ve heard, so maybe you’re on the right track with the whole ‘not being a dick’ thing.

I found it a little audacious that you decided to respond to everything that wasn’t written for you, but if an update is what you want then an update you shall get. I did get my Manolo’s back and he called me superficial for caring more about shoes than how he felt. He pulled the whole ‘I don’t really care about her, I just got caught up in it’ thing which obviously didn’t work. It’s all a mess but it seems to be over now so at least there’s that.

New York is kind of its own living, breathing entity. I moved here for college and just never left after graduation. It’s a great city for creatives which is why I’m still here, the nightlife is amazing, you never have to worry about your favorite artist skipping your city and what they say about the pizza and bagels is true. There are worse places to live, but it can definitely take a toll. It’s not for everyone, and it wasn’t until my junior year that I felt like I knew this place and how to live in it.

I unfortunately don’t have much drama to report back on, at least nothing specific, but I can respect the love of drama that doesn’t involve oneself. As predicted most of the drama was focused on my breakup and the inevitable trying to push me and Bradley together. My sister brought her boyfriend, he’s in a punk band and tatted head to toe. His outward appearance can take you aback at first but he’s the biggest sweetheart, not that anyone in my family would know because after my time in the spotlight their attention turned towards little digs towards him. It was all very, very predictable.

I’m not surprised Bradley hasn’t mentioned me much - he can be quite secretive and protective. I’m not really sure what he’s shared with you all about his personal life and I don’t want to slip and disclose something I shouldn’t but we met in elementary school. My mom’s great but, as you could probably glean from the previous paragraph, we don’t see eye to eye on much. Carole was kind of my saving grace until she passed. She’s the whole reason I’m even a writer, if it wasn’t for her I might have ended up a douchey doctor like Matthew.

You’re not as bad at letter writing as you might think, and don’t feel bad about not having cool paper. Bradley always picks out the lamest stationary and I gave the rest of my pages to my friend who's a third grade teacher. For a writer I wasn’t so great at it the first deployment we decided to do this, but it gets easier with practice. I used to give him crap for wanting to do this like we’re star crossed lovers during wartime but I couldn’t imagine not doing it now. 

You didn’t have to get even, but I appreciate the sentiment and I feel bad for laughing at a younger you… that really is horrifying and I’m sorry they did that to you. I can unfortunately imagine exactly what happened, and it’s not your fault. It happens to every guy when exposed to extreme cold, not that teenagers would care about that. I can only imagine the nicknames, I have some ideas of my own but I’ll keep them to myself to spare you further humiliation. I don’t think you’re a jackass - it’s admirable you wanted to correct your mistake, harmless as it may have been. I’m quite used to strangers reading my writing so let yourself off the hook.

Bradley offered me his place while you guys are gone. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to but I am considering it - a slower pace and beach access sounds a little too good right about now. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of going out so if I make it out there you’ll have to tell me your favorite spots. I’ll also definitely keep the Star Wars thing in mind - I could also talk about it for hours but I’ll make sure I’m prepared before bringing it up to Fanboy. Considering his callsign, I’m guessing that’s a blanket warning for all things nerdy?

I have to admit, it’s a little weird to be writing you a letter. I think Bradley has softened to you in the past few months but it almost feels like I’m consorting with the enemy. Not that you were enemies, but hopefully you’ll forgive me for saying you definitely weren’t friends either. Your letter leads me to believe you’re not as bad as he lets on - however, he did just prove me wrong regarding Matthew so perhaps my judge of character isn’t to be trusted. Either way, I don’t mind adopting an additional aviator if you feel so inclined to keep writing me. Bradley doesn’t tell me much, but I do know it can get rough out there, especially being gone so long. I can’t promise to be entertaining, but you have my address if you get desperate.

Safe flying,

Raven