#but its also motivating to see that i slowly get the head and facial expressions right

[lost-in-hogwarts]

Please let's not talk about hands...

[ariicandy]

𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘋𝘰𝘸𝘯…

About ; You’ve been feeling down on not being the best like your older siblings Lyney & Lynette. You always practice on how to do the trick yourself over and over again but only burdens you out to which, your dear sibling notice your change of personality

A/n ; been wanting to write something for quite some time with my super duper lack of motivation , been also feeling sad lately might as well try cheering myself up by writing my favorite siblings !! FYI : freminet is only mention, he isn’t here sorry :(

Word count : 972

Being siblings with the famous twin magicians has its funs. Like also sometimes being in their performance as an assistant and show the item they will be using is completely empty, nothing is there etc. but recently you started to practice more to be more on the stage with your older siblings and to get better as well! You would ask time to time on help to maintain that unfazed look when doing a trick to get advice on what to do. Maybe that’s the reason you’ve been feeling down and tired.

You’ve been practicing for hours trying to perfect everything for a single trick even your facial expression in the mirror to really challenge yourself, you would nonstop until it was perfect just like how Lyney does them. You sat down on the couch tired, head looking down as about to pass out of being so tired. Lyney got curious on you looking so low lately, you’ve been coming back home bit more tired and almost sad too. “[Name]! Are you alright? You’ve been looking tired and down a lot almost everyday, did something happen??” It was, to you, normal on Lyney checking up on you more whenever he saw you. While lynette and Freminet both wait til you’re both alone to see if you are possible dealing with something in secret you don’t want everyone to know. But lynette also slowly started to walk towards you with Lyney from how your state is, is it really that noticeable from how exhausted you are now? “Oh I’m fine lyney I’m just a little tired that’s all! There’s nothing to worry about..” trying to hide the tiredness in your voice you tried to imitate your normal voice but your face says it all and no point in hiding it anyways. “You sure? You look like you could pass out on the couch right now just by seeing you lending on the arm rest.” Lynette said trying to reason with your words. “Wait, [name], is it because both me and lynette haven’t been spending with you and freminet in a while because of our shows?” Well you did miss spending time with your older brother and sister, but that was not really the reason. “No no it’s not-” You got cut off by lyney hugging you saying “I’m sorry [name]!! I swear! No, I promise! I’ll make both you and freminet up for it! I’ll buy you your favorite-” “Lyney no no it’s okay that’s..not the reason..” both your brother and sister faces’ changed to a worried one from your response, did they do something they have not realized?? Were their spam on attention really went to zero with both you and freminet?!

Fidgeting with your sleeve trying to calm down your nerves, were you this nervous on wanting to be like them? Lyney & lynette could see you were nervous on saying your reason on sudden behavior, they even were scared and nervous a bit waiting, thinking they did something wrong. “[Name], if you’re not ready to say why or only want one of us we can do that and wait, we don’t want you to feel force.” Your sister tried reassuring you, but think it’s time to tell them why. “No no it’s fine sister! I was just trying to find the word to start.” Taking a deep breath to hopefully calm down, you started to tell your sister and brother your reason. “The reason I’ve been coming home tired, exhausted and sometimes sad too is cause..i was practicing tricks you guys do to perfect them and be like you. I like being on the stage with both of you, it’s like im part of the performance with you guys and not just a side assistant to show the crowd whatever you are using is really empty… I just really want to be like you two.” Tears were fighting to come out, you tried hiding your face away from your older siblings to see and scared for their reaction.

In the other hand, both your brother and sister, lyney & lynette, were shocked from why you were so tired and sad you also wanted to be on stage with them, they both had sad faces from you trying to hide your face to not cry. Tears were slowly beginning to form in lyney’s face from seeing you sad, lyney began to hug you tightly near him after a few moments which shocked you seeing your brother like this. Lynette made her way to hug you too seeing there was some space for her to sit and hug you. “[Name] it’s my fault for making yourself practice on wanting to be on stage, you impress both me, Lynette and everyone on how incredible you do them! It’s my fault for this [name], lynette has been bugging me about it because I’ve been scared something might go wrong in on of our tricker stunts. So I’ve been holding you back a lot and i knew i shouldn’t, I’m sorry i made you feel this way dear [sister/brother/sibling], can i make it up to you somehow?” You have never seen you older brother looking so low before and apologizing so much, you hugged your brother tightly. “Can..I be on stage with you guys on your next performance then??” Lynette added to your response with, “it’s only fair after making them feel this way lyney, and should be time [name] to be in our performances now since now you opened up to her why.” Lyney sighed and only nodded his head from being scolded by his sister, “Yes [name] will be us now, no need to make me feel more bad about myself now after [name] being open to us.” A small fond smile appeared on you from now finally going to perform with your older siblings.

[blow-me-a-kis]

Piracy in ofmd is actually already a culture departed from cis het neurotypical society and Izzy is actually a representation of that. I think if ppl would stop treating Stede like he's injecting neurodiversity and queerness into piracy, and instead as the beneficiary of that society, they could see it, too.

I just feel like ppl who don't perceive Izzy as autistic don't really have close friendships with a lot of autistic or neurodiverse ppl IRL. That or they are still doing a lot of masking in relationships and expecting others to masks. But some of us can't.

Most ppl who interact with me IRL probably think I'm mean or rude or even stupid. I'm partially non verbal, I can't smile at strangers/on command, I can't laugh at jokes I don't find funny, I get snippy and irritable if I'm overstimulated. If you ask me how I'm doing, know that me asking you back is like pushing a boulder up a hill for me.

When I do speak it may come out slowly or come off as crytic/weird/inappropriate, and also I may say it too loud or too quiet or too late or with an inappropriate inflection or with a facial expression that doesn't match. My most embarrassing trait is that I get shouty when I'm having a meltdown and I cant help it.

On top of all that I'm Black, so ppl read me as aggressive/negative no matter how I present

I also have autistic and neurodiverse friends who are very similar to me. I have friends who are downright grating in personality, real Izzy's, who I take comfort in because I know its okay if they find me grating. They don't care if I take a long time to respond or don't respond at all when asked a question, they don't mind if I get snippy or they'll tell me directly if I hurt their feelings instead of holding it against me.

I am actually at a point in my life where I am reevaluating friendships where masking has been a requirement, where I feel the need to perform to be liked. I just want to be allowed to be boring or in a bad mood or tired or slow and inflexible, or a Bitch, because I am, and being Pleasant is just not accessible to me. I'll be 33 this year, and I'm exhausted of trying to be anything but myself.

Even the ways a lot of folks like Stede leave out his less palatable autistic traits. Like the fact that almost everyone who meets him in canon does not like him and he has to grow on most ppl. He's hard headed, annoying, presumptuous, obnoxious. This is apart of his autism as well, and why piracy suits him, FREES him.

Izzy is right at home as a pirate because of these very things also. He doesn't have to mask as a neurodiverse person or as a queer man.

I think it's safe to say a lot of ppl's classist views on piracy are reflected in their negative/unfair views of Izzy. The idea that pirates should be softer or nicer or more pleasant or even that a failure to take on these values is Toxic Masculinity (taking this phrase from fandom and putting it on a high shelf until you learn that upperclass white cis het neurotypical masculinity is not the norm and white women learn to question their motivation in normalizing the idea of systemic harm they can't participate in) neglects what Oluwande spoke about in episode one, that piracy is a culture built by people who did not have a choice to do anything but survive.

I hope in s2 we will see Stede get a taste of what that struggle is really like and abandon his classist, romantic notions of piracy.

[myrulia]

omg hi >_<

i just saw your prompt event, congrats on the 600, you deserve more <3

could i possibly get 14? whatever genre you want, go all out, thank you so much :)

.｡.:*✧Prompt 14: "I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Yandere themes, abduction, shibari

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I'm just accepting one follower at a time, 600 is still a lot!

Every night, he would follow you.

Every night, he would put you out of harm's way from the shadows.

Every night, he desired you dearly.

Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Moon One, has harbored feelings for you since he first saw you in your village one night, you walking without a care in the world despite other worldly creatures such as himself having the advantage. You were a human as well, so it was naturally wrong for a demon to develop feelings for the one thing he eats, no?

Of course, the demon has taken this into consideration, but each time he thinks of your face, a nostalgic wave hits him hard in the head, causing his senses to be knocked off for just a bit. Due to you being the cause of this, he wanted to get to the bottom of it as much as possible. 

This proved to be rather difficult.

Over time, the more he tried to figure out reasons as to why he felt this way when he saw your face, and everytime he would come in dangerous proximity with you, his feelings developed more and more to a feral lust of love. Love for you.

The day he found out about this was the day he was just a few feet away from you. Him being in a dark alley, and you walking down the pathway beside it. He got such a picture perfect view of your face and the warming smell of your scent that his addiction to you in general grew even more.

Kokushibou is indeed an honest man and will not deny that he has feelings for you, so now in that same realization, he also believes that you belong to him for those reasons.

He had watched over you so much and protected you without you knowing knowing he felt a sense of entitlement to having you - after all, he did do all of this when he is a man-eating creature bound to the night. He immediately thought that these sacrifices he made towards his goal was all the reason that he should achieve it.

The days that he spent without you near him made the male grow restless in his own skin as his mind wavered to you each and every time he tried to meditate for peace and resolve, but this also failed.

So without a second thought, tonight was the night that he would make you his, whether there were others there or not, his goal shall be achieved. 

He traveled swiftly so that the mission he set his eyes on since the beginning would finally come to an end before the sun rose, giving him a limited amount of hours of leisure time. So with that, it only motivates Kokushibou to move faster. 

Before he knew it he found himself in the same alleyway where he got the first full glimpse of your face, giving him that same warm - almost human like feeling within his undead heart. Just like before, as if the moment was replaying all over again, there you were walking down the same path, yet this time, you stopped.

You stopped and stared.

Kokushibou expected a scream of terror, but instead he was met with your dumbfounded expression.

`` Who are you? ``

You asked with such gentleness, moving closer towards the mysterious figure who was just as dumbfounded as you were, but something inside his nervous system edged him forward, his hand raising to touch you.

`` Who are you talking to, [Y/N]-san? ``

Before the demon could process his next choice of actions, his own body betrayed him by pulling you into the alleyway with him and into his chest. Your face only grew in more confusion, but a large hand covered your mouth before you could give voice to the situation.

`` [Y/N]-san? [Y/N]-sannn?? ``

The stranger's voice called out, but with no response, the human simply turned around in the opposite direction and went about their night as if nothing happened. Pulling his hand away slowly as said person leaves, Kokushibou turns his head and tilts his chin down to get a better look at your state, only to find you staring at his facial features with such enticement and curiosity in your eyes.

Seeing you in such ways sent the demon's feelings in disarray once more. It was as if he was in the past again, because standing before him, from over 400 years ago, was his former human wife. He looked around, lost in his own memory before your voice called out to him, bringing him from the small flashback.

`` Sir, do I know yo- hey wait! ``

Suddenly you were thrown over Kokushibou's shoulder and felt the chilled wind on your face as you moved with such speed out of the village that you were left utterly astonished. Yes, you did know that demons exist and their natural diet is humans, but something told you this one was different - and you were always raised to trust your judgement.

Although curiosity does kill the cat.

`` Where are you taking me? Who are you and why are you abducting me?! ``

`` We will be home soon. ``

That was all that came from the demon's lips, and just like that you found yourself in a massive building with rooms and staircases coming from every direction. Your eyes tripled in size, being truly taken aback by your new surroundings and how it seemed impossible to be true.

Kokushibou opened a door to a certain room in what he knew was the Infinity Fortress, setting you down on your bottom - but being quick in his moments he tied you up with a specific type of shibari you have not seen before. It was the type you had seen samurai use in the books provided by your caregivers, but the one before you looked nothing of the samurai you saw in your books.

The thing before you was unmistakably a demon.

A man eating-demon that now had you as its prey.

Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, doubting your judgement and kind spirit from the very beginning and even allowing yourself to become so easy of a target. You pushed yourself by your feet until your back hit a wall, skin trembling in fear at what your future holds. Kokushibou merely took slow strides in your direction, kneeling down and using his index finger to lift your chin up so he could examine your face better.

`` It is no mistake, you are meant to be here, my love from so long ago. ``

You jerked your head back, lips trembling to get any sort of words out, but as you got a visible view of the demon's fangs, worry set in your bones.

`` I have no cl..clue what you speak of, but we have not met before. ``

Kokushibou tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, moving so that his much bigger form was looming over your own.

`` You in this time period may not remember, but you from the past does. You have always been mine, and this has sealed it. Our fates tie together, my dear. ``

You had no idea what the man before you spoke of, but you too felt a nostalgic feeling as he grew closer and closer, although the fear that latched onto your nervous system would not let go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand touched your cheek, your gazes never daring to tear away from each other. With your hands tied it was not like you could escape so easily, as well as your legs being tied together so that you could not run either. You were helpless and out of control of your situation, tears pricking your eyes at this fact.

`` I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time. We will now be together again, my love, and nothing can change that. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 4/6

Just look at this cover art by @cocohook38 !!!!! Isn’t it amazing? I just can’t stop staring at it. She is so talented and spent so much time working on this, please head over to her blog and give her some love. 

This chapter is sort of a bridge chapter (no pun intended) where we begin to discover connections between all the characters. Belle especially is tied to Emma in a surprising way. 

Massive thanks again to my beta @demisexualemmaswan​ and everyone in the @cssns​ !

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian@hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna @distant-rose @courtorderedcake @winterbythesea @thesschesthair @killian-whump @thisonesatellite @batana54 @it-meant-something @xsajx @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling​

Chapter Four: Red

“Neal Gold,” Belle said, her voice trembling with excitement, “no wonder it got covered up.”

Belle struggled with an ancient tome on the top shelf in the library’s genealogy room, and Killian rushed to help her. When they set it atop the metal desk nearby, a cloud of dust billowed up. The genealogy room was hidden away in the basement too. 

“I still can’t believe Graham went to the bridge,” Belle continued. He’d never seen her so giddy with excitement. “This will show everyone Killian! You aren’t crazy!”

Killian nodded weakly. He knew it was true, and he knew that Graham getting Neal’s last name from Emma was a huge break for them, but he was starting to worry. He wanted to help Emma by solving her murder, but he also didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t ghosts linger because they had unfinished business? If he, Belle, and Graham, took care of Emma’s unfinished business, then would she . . . what? Move on to paradise? Cease to exist?

“Killy, did you hear what I said?” 

He shook the thoughts from his head and focused on Belle who stood over the huge book, her finger pointing to its binding. 

“Um, sorry. What did you say?”

“I tried to look up Swan, Emma, but the entire S section is missing.”

Belle’s fingers ran along the torn edges of several pages. Killian ran his hand wearily down his face. 

“Of course it is. So no birth certificate there either.”

“Wait a minute!” Belle exclaimed. “We know she died in 1894, and we know she was sixteen years old.”

“Which means she was born in 1878. We figured that out already. But the birth certificates from that entire year are also missing, remember?”

Belle nodded. “Yes, yes, the Gold family had money and power and were very thorough, but they may not have thought about baby announcements.”

Killian grinned. “Parents put baby announcements in the newspaper! Belle, you’re a genius!”

They ran down the short hallway to the microfilm room. Belle quickly pulled out the film for 1878 and put it in the machine. Once they figured out where the social section of the paper was located, they were able to scroll fairly quickly. And then - there it was. Just a few short lines: 

David and Mary Margaret Swan are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter, Emma Eva Swan, on October 22nd, 1878 at three o-clock in the afternoon. She is welcomed by her paternal grandmother, Ruth Elizabeth Swan, and her maternal grandfather, Leopold Blanchard.

******************************************************

“David and Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered. 

Killian tightened his hold around her shoulders and brushed a kiss against the crown of her head. “They were your parents.”

Emma nodded slowly, and he watched her facial expression under the light of the waning moon. He could practically see happy memories light up her face. 

“I remember them,” she whispered. “We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were very happy. We lived on a farm.”

She dropped her head onto Killian’s shoulder and let out a contented sigh. They remained that way for a long moment, silently watching the stars twinkle overhead. 

“She had a beautiful smile,” Emma told him quietly, “and he used to cup my head so tenderly whenever he hugged me. That’s all I remember, though. Their faces are even fuzzy in my memory.”

“I’m sorry.”

She turned in his embrace so she could look him in the eye. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t remember anything if it weren’t for you. Thank you, Killian.”

She pulled his head down gently so she could press her lips to his. They lost themselves in the passion of their kisses.

***********************************************************

Killian sat with Belle once again in the library’s musty basement. Books with cracked leather bindings were piled around them: genealogy records, property records, and marriage certificates. With names and the information that Emma grew up on a farm, they were able to piece together the history of the Swan and Gold families. 

There was no evidence, however, of the Swan’s reporting their daughter was missing. In fact, aside from the birth announcement in the paper, there was no evidence that Emma Swan had existed at all. Everytime they got close, records were conveniently missing. Pages had clearly been torn out of several books, and years worth of Storybrooke Mirror and Portland Press articles were missing from the microfilm records. 

“It’s so obvious, though,” Belle exclaimed in frustration, slamming yet another large book shut. “Neal Gold falls in love with Emma Swan, a poor farmer’s daughter. His family would never approve of the relationship, so he never plans on marrying her. She’s just a good time to him.”

“I’m still a little grossed out by how old he was,” Killian muttered. 

Those records hadn’t been missing. Neal Gold was absolutely, unequivocally twenty nine years old when he met fourteen year old Emma Swan. Which made him thirty one when he got her pregnant and murdered her. 

Disgusting. 

“Belle? Did you hear me?”

His friend had gone completely pale, her finger frozen in the center of a yellowed page. Killian got up and leaned over her shoulder. 

“What’s this?”

She flipped the heavy leather volume back to the cover with a deep sigh. Killian leaned further over his shoulder and read the title out loud. 

“The Life, Impact, and Genealogy of Storybrooke’s Founding Family: The Golds. Well that’s not pretentious at all,” he snorted. Belle giggled. “By -”

He cut off, reeled back, and looked at Belle, who nodded in affirmation. “By Roderick Gaston?”

“There’s more,” Belle told him, flipping back to the page that had left her frozen. 

It was a family tree, and Killian scanned it quickly. At the top was Robert Gold, the founder of Storybrooke, with his wife Milah’s name beside his. Below that, it listed their only son: Neal Gold. He married Tamara Gold in 1894, the same year Emma died.

“Well, there’s another motive for murder,” Killian murmured, “not only did he get a teenager pregnant, he was cheating on his fiance.”

“Keep going,” Belle whispered. 

Neal and Tamara had three children: Bonnie, Felix, and Gretchen. The oldest daughter, Bonnie, had married Roderick Gaston, and they had two sons: Lewis and Mitchum Gaston.

“Wait - isn’t Mike’s dad Mitch Gaston?”

“Yes,” Belle told him softly, “and I met his grandfather once, too. His name is Roderick. I never put two and two together before, but the man was the worst snob. He kept asking who my people were and going on and on about how the Gaston’s were connected to Storybrooke’s finest families.”

“So this means that your boyfriend -”

“Is the descendant of Emma’s murderer.”

*******************************************************

“Where the hell are you going?”

Killian jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. He whirled away from the back door to find Liam standing in the kitchen with the phone in his hand. Killian could hear the loud, grating beeping of the line as it went dead. 

“Who were you talking to at 3 am?” Killian shot back. 

Liam narrowed his eyes then slowly put the phone back onto the receiver that hung on the wall. He took his time untangling the long cord before turning back to face Killian.

“Something’s happened, little brother.”

Liam’s voice was so full of fear, shock, and sadness that Killian didn’t even bother correcting him on the little brother label. 

**********************************************************

The girl in the hospital bed couldn’t possibly be Belle. Her eyes were wild and darted around the room, her hair was a tangled mass around her face, and when she saw Killian she began to scream. 

“I saw her, Killy! The ghost! The blood, the blood, the blood . . .” 

Orderlies ran in and grabbed her before she could lunge from the bed. She fought them tenaciously, her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Ivory runs red, ivory runs red. He’s dead, he’s dead.” She started to laugh maniacally as one orderly managed to get a syringe into her veins. They wrestled her to the bed and strapped her down, but she continued to speak, her words slurring. “He’s dead, dead, dead.”

She arched her back one more time, mumbling about ivory and red, shaking her head back and forth. Then she began to say the rhyme they had learned as children, singing it to a morbid little tune. 

“When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead.”

Killian felt the blood rush from his head, leaving his skin cold in the sterile room as he watched Belle’s breaths even out. He knew the kinds of drugs running through her veins, God did he know. He also knew no one would believe her. 

Mike Gaston was dead, and Killian couldn’t muster a modicum of grief. 

[mochimiyas]

acceptance

pairings: pre-timeskip!miya atsumu x reader, somewhat atsumu-centric

warnings: slight angst, mentions of insecurities, lowercase intended

a/n: wow i got lots of love from my sakusa drabble and i can’t help but thank you guys for enjoying! this drabble is based on my curiosity when atsumu accepts the fact that osamu will no longer pursue volleyball by his side, and what he does after it. i feel like its something everyone goes through in their life, whether it may be concerning a sport, hobby, job, etc. and if yall had someone that was on that atsumu/osamu bond level. please enjoy! content is under the cut...

“atsumu! when are ya gonna talk to yer brother?! it’s been a week, son. just please talk to him...” 

miya atsumu was considered one of the best setters during his high school years, and was widely known to be a threat along with his twin brother, miya osamu. 

��’samu...’

atsumu clenched his teeth at the thought of his twin brother. the fact that his brother had the audacity to confront him at school, nonetheless informing him that he no longer wanted to pursue volleyball with him and instead, take a step into the culinary business. atsumu felt like his world was crumbling into ashes slowly, as if time slowed down in that particular moment. he remembered feeling his heart beating painfully in his ears after the gut-wrenching declaration.

~

everyone else who was in the gym at the time waited for atsumu’s reaction. majority of the outsiders thought atsumu would be happy that his twin decided to pursue his true passion, but the team knew better. they knew atsumu like the back of their hands. 

atsumu and osamu did everything together. they never once separated from each other and were each other’s greatest rival. atsumu would never admit it out loud, but he always considered osamu to be his motivation to improve and to become a better player. he never thought in a million years that osamu thought about ditching volleyball for cooking. how long was he thinking about this for? why would he suddenly quit? why is he leaving me behind? 

as the blonde setter mulled over all the possible reasonings behind osamu’s sudden declaration, the grey-haired spiker was internally freaking out, his brother’s silence scaring him. he truly didn’t know what the setter was thinking this time, his facial expression void of any indication of what he was thinking inside. osamu let out as a shaky breath as atsumu lifted his head to look at him. 

“can ya repeat that again, ‘samu?” osamu sighed as he braced himself for what was about to come. 

“i said, i won’t be doin’ volleyball anymore after high school. i’ve decided that i wanna start takin’ cooking seriously and start my own business,” he stared straight into atsumu’s eyes, gauging his reaction. 

“just because i ain’t doin’ volleyball, doesn’t automatically mean i’m less successful than ya by default,” he suddenly grabs the collar of atsumu’s jacket, “if yer so dang sure you’ll be the happier one, then come back to me when we’re old geezers! wait until then to frickin’ laugh in my face and say that you were happier!”

something inside of atsumu snapped and gave osamu a vicious glare.

he calmly stated, “if that’s how ya wanna do it, fine,” atsumu gripped his brother’s collar, “when we are on our death beds, i’m gonna look at ya right in the face and tell ya i had the happier life!”

~

it’s been a week since atsumu last spoke to his brother, the altercation being the last time. truthfully, atsumu was genuinely lost. the realization that his brother was pursuing a different career path than him finally sunk in, and so many emotions came at him all at once. atsumu didn’t know what to think, what to feel, and it scared him. it scared him knowing that he couldn’t do anything to set his thoughts straight. it also made him feel like he was incapable of keeping his emotions in check. he was miya atsumu, one of japan’s greatest youth setters. something like this should’ve been a breeze for him to overcome, right?

right?

atsumu sighed and glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 00:28 am. the blonde setter knew you were still awake, and decided to text you. 

a loud ding! woke you up instantly and you hurriedly checked your phone to see your boyfriend texting you at an ungodly hour. you heard from suna what happened between the miya twins and when you asked atsumu about it, he ignored your question and walked away, your shouts of his name and pleas for him to come back fading into the distance. after that day, you gave atsumu some space, hoping that he would come talk to you about it but after a week of not hearing from him, you grew worried but still gave him the space he desperately needed. 

tsum-tsum: oi, are ya still awake? lemme come over

you: i’m awake now! ill unlock my door for you. just lock it when u get inside please 

tsum-tsum: omw now 

twenty minutes later, you faintly heard the front door open and close, the lock sliding into place. footsteps were shuffling closer and closer to your room until the door opened, revealing your disheveled boyfriend. the under eye bags, his immaculately styled hair now sticking up in different directions; atsumu truly looked like dog shit, you thought. 

you motioned for your boyfriend to come lay next to you, immediately curling underneath your comforter. atsumu laid his head on your chest as you gently stroked his hair and wrapped your other arm around his broad shoulders. 

“‘m sorry,” he whispered. 

“don’t worry about it ‘tsumu. your feelings and how you reacted are valid. i would’ve felt the same way if i was in your shoes, y’know,” you reassured him. you brought your hand from his hair to cup his chin, gingerly lifting his head to face you. 

“do you mind telling me what was going through your head for the past week? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

atsumu immediately poured out his feelings for you. his fear of losing osamu, his partner-in-crime, and being all alone. osamu was truly the only person that could keep up with him, and for that he was grateful, but what was he going to do now that osamu is moving on? atsumu always left people behind due to his hunger to improve his skills as a setter, but never once he thought that it would happen to him, let alone it would be his brother who ceased the “terror of the miya brothers.” he also recalled the memory to you, what happened at the gym and the aftermath. 

he felt your body shaking slightly, confusion spreading across his face as he watched you fail miserably to contain your laughter. 

atsumu pouted, “oi! is my pain funny to ya or somethin’?! yer supposed ta be supportin’ me through my troubles, babe,” you laughed even harder at his pout.

“oh ‘tsumu, you never fail to make me laugh,” he glowered at you, “it’s just- you and osamu will be just fine.” 

before he could protest, you placed your hand over his mouth, “shhh, let me explain, love. ‘samu knew for a long time that you were gonna make it further into the volleyball path than he was. your love for volleyball is greater than his, and he knew that his time with you on the court wasn’t gonna last any longer,” you removed your hand from his mouth to cup his cheek. 

“but the last thing ‘samu knew he can do for you before he officially left volleyball, was to challenge you. that’s why he taunted you that day y’know. he wanted you to keep going without him. he supports ya regardless of whatever path you take in the future. hell, maybe one day, your paths will cross when you both are older and happy in your future lives,” you chuckled.

it was silent after. you and atsumu laid in each other’s arms. while you were trying your hardest to stay awake, the blonde setter seemed to be deep in thought about what you said. 

finally, after moments of silence, atsumu spoke up.

“i’m gonna beat him, ‘n i know damn well i’m gonna have a happier life than him.”

you giggled at his declaration. 

“can’t wait to see you achieve that, atsumu.” 

[stopeatingwhales]

about a girl x kurt cobain

hi guys omg- it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something, and my nirvana obsession has risen once again so what a thought into writing something dedicated to the one and only kurt himself <3 thank you ever so much to the person who requested this, i managed to write something i think i’m somewhat proud of aha

Pairing: pre-bleach era kurt x reader

Warnings: nothing! 

Word count: 2.165

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

Waiting for him to appear on stage for the first time was like a moment snatched out of a drunken stupor: so surreal I had to continuously pinch myself every few minutes for reassurance that this was really happening. With a mind cluttered in thought, it became hard to sit still for as little as ten seconds without being accompanied by an itch to either scratch my scalp in nervousness, or chew on my already bitten nails - attempting to sand off their roughened look from my previous antics. The most I had drunk that night was a couple sips of my gingerish coloured beer - with the room buzzing in anticipation and curiosity for who was headlining the bar tonight, it caused everything that even shifted slightly in its position to irritate me in all ways plausible. Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t manage to let anything settle in my stomach without having a sudden rush of nausea bubble up in my throat; it was Kurt’s first performance tonight with his new, reformed band, and being told that he was quite nervous triggered an anxiety in my veins stronger than the pain of the first rush of heroin dousing my body after months of not being able to get hold of it - allowing all my stress, agony and dread to escape my body at an expeditious rate as my body adorned the poison I was granting into my limbs. It was inevitable: Kurt was bound to be nervous before his first performance with new material to a bunch of strangers that had never seen the wonders of his model-face before, and although he had performed many times, a grasp of worry still caught into his hair as he tried to pass the time, like a knot you seemingly are unable to rid of, leaving you with no other choice but to resort to grabbing a pair of kitchen scissors and chopping that bunch of hair off. Which he had done many times. 

Whilst time speedily went on, I found myself calming down by a small amount, consoling myself with different types of remedies in solution: downing my drink, ordering another (this time a gin & tonic to spice things up) and repeating the same, before slamming my now empty glass to the table and standing up to get a clearer view of the stage, knowing they were going to come on soon. All that wondered in my mind was Kurt, quickly reminding myself over all the time we had spent together - the times when we had first become friends. I had been introduced to him early last year when Krist had asked me if I wanted to see his new band he was bassing for - and immediately was I enthralled, knowing that once I had laid my eyes on him, I would never be able to detach them from him: a poor man, masked in aristocracy in ways not physical as it may seem. He captivated me. His presence carried such warmth it was able to counter against the sun; your cheeks immediately burning as he locked eyes with you. You instantly wanted to wrap your arms around him, and when talking, you were instantly drawn to his short yet meaningful phrases, laced in passion stronger than an avocado seed. As my eyes were locked firmly together with his, I was able to notice something so pure and wondrous I had been unsuccessful in finding in anyone else: care. A simple emotion, somehow one of the hardest to master. Regardless of what the subject matter might be, he always carried a certain interest to it - constantly having something to say. Even if you found him sitting excluded from everyone else, you could notice that there was something either battling his mind, or inspiring him for something - new music, lyrics perhaps. It’s enticing, it's human. He’s human.

Suddenly, a distorted strum of a guitar abruptly blared through one of the many amplifiers dotted around the small stage at the end of the room. The crowded space was now silenced by the hasty noise, my (slightly intoxicated, yet conscious) head now instantly turning to see what had happened - although I was for certain it was the time I had been most excited for. Little whispers and hushes were the only things you were able to hear for the span of a few seconds as the amp's sound had silenced itself, a small buzz affiliating throughout the room, a couple of heads turning back and forth to see the number of people collectively awaiting to listen to the music of the unknown band performing tonight. My eyes stayed glued to the stage as I pictured his character, standing there in the middle, Krist and Chad capturing the rest of the space, adorned by their instruments - playing along to Kurt’s beautiful melodies. Gazing at his figure, beautifully formed with such masculinity, decorated with concerning parts of emeation, slowly embarking its way through to the middle of the stage - guitar gripped firmly in arm - birthed dozens of baby butterflies inside my stomach, tickling my insides in all sorts of ways. My nervousness resurrected itself once again, as I had come to a realisation that I wasn’t imagining anything at all.

Silence. 

No introduction, nothing. From his immediate grace to the stage, I could tell he was nervous; the bright light emitting onto his face allowed me to see his features much more prominently - allowing you to just about to see the small stubble that was forming on his face from his forgetfulness to shave in the morning. However, I wasn’t able to admire his face for long, only for a few seconds before he fixed his gaze to his electric guitar, placing his fingers on specific chords, then turning to stare at his bandmates. A couple looks were shared between them all, a mere roll of the eyes from Chad, a small smile from Krist towards Kurt - for motivation, as the good friend he was. Kurt on the other hand didn’t change his facial expression, only nodding his head at both the boys before switching back to stare at the instrument adorned by his grip, beginning to bob his head slowly - counting himself in. Even from afar I was able to tell that at that single moment, he didn’t carry a care or a worry for anyone but his guitar, focusing all his energy and thought into this one specific thing: the start of the performance. 

1...2...3...4

As the music began, a smile branched onto my cheeks instantly. A song I recognised, my heart warming as I realised what was playing. About a girl, the song we wrote together. 

Usually, Kurt would write alone, not wanting anyone else’s input and ideas; all the band played was what Kurt had written, for it was truly only his work on that stage, just a few people helping out to put it together in life form. However, there was a significant time after a band practice weeks ago where I had attended due to me having nothing else to do, and watching the three of them play always made me feel content - holding my heart with hope for the new wave of music they were producing. As they were packing up their stuff at the end of the rehearsal, Kurt had slowly wandered off from tidying up and had come up to me, awkwardly wanting to show me what he had written for a random song: hungry for my opinion even when he never really cared what anyone thought of his music. We ended up co-writing that specific song together, the song sounding the room at this very moment. As I stared at Kurt all that was met with my eyes was his entire concentration to perfect everything that he was playing; every move of the finger producing a different sound as he attempted to hit all the ones significantly partnered with the song. He knew I was watching him, that’s why he played this song first and foremost. 

Lifting his head up from the guitar, his mouth instantly pressed itself onto the microphone, revealing his raw, raspy vocals. My eyes were physically unable to detach themselves from the sight I was seeing at this very moment. They had performed multiple times before, yet this time, something felt different. New. Almost as if everything pieced in together, and with just a bit of sanding around the edges - they’d be perfect, unlike any band I had ever seen live. Watching the crowd’s attention simply staying undivided towards the band made me feel a sort of elation the morning of Christmas would give you, the sensational feeling hitting you that its the date that brought everyone together; this time the music was the thing that brought everyone together. My eyes scanned the crowd, noticing some people bobbing their heads, surprised by their immediate tunes that were being emitted from the song, widening my smile - if that was even humanly possible at this moment. Their fresh, uncensored, gruffy sound was something not many bands at the time even thought about playing - that was for people who were behind their time, Sex Pistols era almost. The feeling that warmed my heart at that moment was something indescribable - illegitimate for words. It felt like a lighter had torched its way into my body, the sharp pain bruising a bright crimson all the way up my torso to my cheeks, a breath hitched back in my throat as I slowly figure out the way to breathe again. The pain that caressed my heart so dearingly was also paired with a strong sense of joy. Happiness. Delighted that the pieces of such a complex puzzle were fitting together. 

As a minute or so went on, the crowd slowly began to get more and more into the music, some people now swaying their hips or dancing around with their friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how Kurt was beginning to feel, or what he was already feeling. Euphoria at the highest degree, something so strong not even a multiload of ecstasy could even attempt to give you. I found myself singing along to the words quietly, resulting in the people around me noticing that I was the only one who actually knew the song apart from the band. A random guy had turned to look at me, drink firmly gripped in hand, and with his rough attempt to shout over the loud music, whilst pointing towards the stage. “You know them?”

For a couple of scenes everything went still. I stopped moving, my eyes slowly getting lost with the man standing on the stage in front of me as I accidentally ignored the stranger’s question. I continued watching the stage, my eyes focused on Kurt - until his eyes abruptly opened, locking in with mine instantly. Startled, he noticed my starstruck expression, a little grin hanging off his lips. Maybe it was out of arrogance, however I knew he wasn’t planning on taking them off soon - not that I’d be the one to complain. His eyes were bright, glimmering with happiness; filled with life and fertility as they pierced into my soul so daringly, carrying the same devilish want that Adam had been challenged with once told not to eat the apple off the tree - his mind so intrusive he was simply unable to resist. His wondrous orbs carried a hint of impish, vanity, as they were also laced with a hint of seductivity and perhaps a shed of horniness, sudden greed blistering over his ocean-like eyes; he wanted it all, in the most wicked of ways. It would be a white lie if I had said this didn’t make me feel some sort of way; had he never looked at me like that before, I might’ve said otherwise. Perhaps his sudden bursts of confidence spewing out of him made him act this way, regardless, I knew it was something real. His eyes bestowed the same hunger he had initiated into his sudden approach when asking me what I thought of the music he had written, the first time me and him truly bonded together. I seemingly was unable to detach my eyes from him, for my body, heart and mind stayed encompassed in thought of how bewildered I was; in simply over a year, I had watched him grow, become more confident, sanguine, and it was all showing off now. He was staring at me as if the world was ending, and that I was the last thing he wanted engraved in his mind, aiding him into dying in such complacency it was almost as equal as equilibrium in the world of absolute zero. “Yes I do,” I muttered, nudging the unfamiliar person whom I hadn’t even set eyes upon. Feeling his gaze burn into my cheek, I continued to focus my eyes on Kurt, my tongue licking the sides of my mouth as I figured out words to muster. “That’s my boyfriend,” 

[6kuros]

me: hmmm today i will post a short snippet of a thing i wrote and never finished but is decent on its own. post hlvrai benry coomer gordon interaction or someting.....i dont ever think ive shared my hlvrai writings before so enjoy.......

word count: 1240

benrey came to know the times when the sun disappeared as nighttime. night was when people were supposed to sleep. which was why every time gordon had laid down on the rigid pavement of black mesa, and instructed the others to go to sleep before he turned off the game, he closed off with a "good night", one directed towards each member of the party-- with the exception of benrey, whose presence with the team was inconsistent. 

"Sleeping is almost like recharging a H.E.V. suit-- except you're the suit, and your bed is a charging station," doctor coomer explained with his ever-cheery tone. benrey didn’t really understand that either. he generally did not understand doctor coomer and did not care to try.

benrey didn't have a bed, which didn't end up mattering much because the first two days and nights at gordon’s house, he never slept. after being shown the tv and its game console, as well as around the house, he found ways to keep himself entertained. he liked the grainy blue of the tv screen when everything else was dark. no better time of day existed for him to sit an inch away from the tv as the bright fuzzy static poured into his eyes.

gordon slept the most. sometimes from the late evening until when the sun was past the middle of the sky the next day. tommy also slept this late sometimes, but he went to bed hours later than gordon. bubby and darnold's sleeping schedules were closest to gordon's, with a few hours shaved off before midday.

the third day, benrey found himself passed out on the couch. he woke up feeling something unfamiliar. he decided he did not like the feeling; it was sort of like when he was bored, but all over his body instead of his mind, and at the same time his body hurt. the kitchen was bustling and the sun was bright at the time of this awakening.

benrey slept earlier that evening, and ended up awake around 2 am. sleep was bullshit, he concluded, opting to sleep only when he felt like it. this was usually until he stayed up to a point of exhaustion and his body insisted that he get some fucking rest.

on his fifth or sixth day outside of the game-- he was starting to lose count --he wandered upstairs during the middle of the night. benrey spent most of his waking hours on the lower level, but boredom was typically right around the corner.

he was creeping down the narrow hallway when he was lured to gordon’s bedroom. he froze in place, a few feet away from the stair banister. muffled thunking and what gordon sounded like when he was panicking echoed through the walls. benrey traced the sounds to the room benrey had entered the house through-- gordon’s bedroom. a pathetic little light just barely shone from the door crack.

the noises got louder as benrey clutched the doorknob turned it to open the door. the light was the bedroom closet, its door wide open, illuminating the room enough so that benry could see gordon. gordon was in bed, his wailing achingly loud now. he thrashed and jerked in the sheets.

"No," benrey caught some of gordon's desperate mutterings. "No, no, why-- they-- no-- Benrey!"

"what?" benrey said.

then benrey realized gordon was asleep. he was moving and talking in his sleep.

gordon screamed and benrey jumped a little. it was odd that gordon stayed in bed so much, if even then he could hardly get a moment's peace.

gordon groaned. he wasn't thrashing around anymore. he held himself up with the arm he had, and trembled, head drooping at his pillows. he gasped and cried softly.

not sure if gordon was still entirely asleep or not, benrey began low at first; the equivalent to a hum. blue orbs were sent and concentrated just a little past his mouth.

gordon’s body still shook. benrey came a few steps closer, so that the sweet voice would hover near gordon's head. benrey couldn't see his face, but it was reassuring to that see gordon quietly lay down. benrey kept singing, changing inflection only occasionally in order to attain a simple tune. he didn't stop until gordon's back was rising and falling rhythmically.

be observed gordon. his shape was sloping and gentle, exposed by blankets tossed aside. only when the glowing blue orbs evaporated into nothing, did benrey leave.

he backed out of the room slowly.

“Hello, Benrey.”

benrey whirled around. doctor coomer stood in front of benrey with his arms behind his back. his facial expression was inscrutible in the dark.

"I saw you in there. No ulterior motives, I hope?" doctor coomer chuckled. they stood in the silent darkness for an elongated moment.

coomer’s mouth opened with a sigh, "You've caused quite some harm to Mr. Freeman you know? It's going to take some time for all of us to get used to you being here. Especially Gordon… I haven't the slightest idea why he brought you back. When he was just beginning to get better."

"Perhaps it's selfish for me to care about Mr. Freeman because of what he did for us. When I realized what I was… what I was a part of … it pained me to think that the relationship Gordon and I had might have been artificial all along. And that when he finished the game there would be… nothing."

benrey pursed his lips and waited for doctor coomer to get to the point. he didn’t really like listening to coomer berate him with flowery wordiness.

the doctor broke his intense gaze when he had said this, looking forlorn and to the side. then he looked back at benrey. "However, Mr. Freeman proved it was more than that. He treats me as if I'm real. And he brought us out of the game. I'd like to believe it was because he cared deeply about each and every one of us… but… he brought you back too."

silence suffocated the hallway. another new feeling spawned within him. in his stomach, something creeping and underlying that made him squirm.

"Looking back on it, Gordon and I had some wonderful memories together. But I've also realized a lot of his experience was far from pleasant. And Gordon doesn't need to be reminded of it anymore than he already is."

doctor coomer tilted his head up to meet benrey's height.

"You should know that I'm not the only one who wouldn't hesitate to get rid of you if any harm were to come to Mr. Freeman."

benrey’s throat went dry. he tried to move past doctor coomer but a few steps down the stairs and there was a hand tightening around his forearm.

“Do you understand that, Benrey?” doctor coomer whispered. he squeezed tighter and benrey couldn’t tug himself free.

“yes,” said benry. his feet were teetering on the edge of a step as he twisted and pulled. “let go of me."

he stumbled a few steps down the stairs when coomer released him. he didn't look back at coomer until he made it to the bottom of the stairs, past the corner that led to the kitchen. his breath was lodged in his throat. coomer faced gordon's door with his arms neatly folded behind him once more. over and over coomer's tellings echoed in benrey's mind as he slinked away.

[kaisa-ryo]

Inumaki Toge NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Fingering your hair is his favorite pastime. It doesn't matter if they are short or long, light or dark, he just loves the combination of your scent and your favorite shampoo. Yes. It is no less pleasant for him to draw in their aroma, so Inumaki always bumps into the top of your head and falls asleep, feeling this native smell. This is probably why he often dreams with your participation.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Hair. It is obvious.

How he is fascinated by the sight when they develop so beautifully in the wind, how the moonlight pours into them, and how incredibly alluring any touch seems to be. It's like teasing a lover by flattering his imagination. But damn it, when you give him full control over them, he feels great delight. Toge can spend hours doing your hair or putting it in a ponytail, admiring your bare neck, guessing the thoughts behind your back.

— And if we have a girl, will you also braid her hair?

You asked with a slight laugh.

— Salmon! Salmon!

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

Most often in a condom.

Sometimes, of course, on one of the zones of your body, but with your permission. Because of the prices and the need to save money, you can certainly not copulate every day, but you want to get as much pleasure from the process as possible. Speaking specifically about you, then you do not mind that he came inside. The main thing is to properly configure yourself and him.

D = Dirty secret

He is in no other way connected with his kink, which you will learn about a little later.

When you're in the shower or away from the dorm, he takes your headphones and licks the earwax off. Yes, you heard right.

When you were walking with a friend, she couldn't stop complaining for ten minutes that her headphones need to be constantly cleaned, otherwise any music is hard to hear. You, of course, were surprised not to answer her. You have a slightly different thought - why have you never noticed your headphones are dirty? Anyway, you thought you were just lucky with them.

E = Experience

Small, but no less significant.

Watching porn to completely satisfy you seemed insufficient to him. Therefore, in order to have at least some idea of ​​the peculiarities of the female body, he watched how it moves, studied gestures, facial expressions and even intonation, trying to make out what exactly you can get aroused from. The peculiarity was that in real life, body movements and their consequences are never as natural and simple as on a phone screen. For example, when you suck on him, his throat may dry out, from which you ask him to bring a glass of water. Or when you fuck for too long, and neither of you ever experienced an orgasm (this also happens), you just lie down on the bed, not even thinking that it is either of you. Simply because you are just tired.

In general, you both learn something new in sexual relations and experience new sensations almost every intercourse.

F = Favorite position

Most of all he prefers those in which no special effort is needed. For example missionary or "spoons". They do not require any incredible gymnastic skills and still allow you to conserve energy.

A special title is occupied by the pose from behind, where you put a pillow under the pelvis. A huge plus is that such a pose serves for "deeper penetration", so you both experience the same sensations of bliss: you are all Inumaki inside yourself, and he is your incomparable warmth and flesh.

G = Goofy (Serious at this moment?)

Undoubtedly.

We can say that he simply does not know how to fool around. He is serious and subtle to such an extent that even joking flirting with him seems a kind of perversion.

H = Hair (Is the hair okay?)

Frankly, you are not even sure that he has something growing there. But the whole secret is that he tries to pay as much attention to the groin area as possible. This is the only place that, perhaps, only you can see. It is worth paying special attention to it, isn't it?

I = Intimacy (Romance)

This is mainly a manifestation of material or spiritual signs. Moreover, the most common ones, for example, an offer to share food, hold the door, straighten the curls that have come out of his hair .., but he does it with such a disinterested and sincere expression that it immediately becomes clear that this is true love based on affection.

Perhaps to some extent this is just a game of contrasts, the goal of which is to win your heart completely and completely, but unfeigned attention forces it to be sincere. In fact, there is no need for him to play these dirty games, because he has long ago reached you in all his perfection, and, in fact, remains the dearest person for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

It happens.

It does not matter because of what exactly: your naked, half-naked body, clothes ..., absolutely everything drenches him from head to toe.

The heart is pounding like mad, there is a pleasant tickling in the stomach, breathing quickens, the eyelids begin to drop from such a pressure of mixed, but clearly pleasant feelings. The hand unauthorizedly reaches down to the pants and continues to rub the tip until all the precum has flowed out. Trembling muffled moans hammer into his ears, mixing with yours, which sound in his sexual fantasies.

Once you caught him doing this, but fortunately, you didn't even understand that he was masturbating then.

K = Kink

Have you ever seen people lick their partners' ears? I hasten to congratulate (or upset), Inumaki is one of them.

During sex, he always starts with this - licking and nibbling your ears. Starting from the scaphoid fossa and ending with the earlobe. Later, he will smoothly move to a climax, ending with the fact that he learns with the language more internal parts, like a storm a passage to the eardrums.

The more you are aroused by the rhythmic movement of his tongue, the more the waves of sexual energy spread throughout your body. Eventually you will begin to succumb to such unusual caresses.

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Any where you are alone. The most commonplace are the kitchen table and bed. But his favorite is the bath.

Here you are sitting, huddled close to each other, then Inumaki for no reason, for no reason begins to caress you. Under the water, everything seems so sharp and shameless that you will not immediately understand whether you are really flowing or whether it is ordinary water. Plus, the bath has an advantage. It lies in the fact that you do not need to go to the shower after sex to put yourself in order, because you are already in the shower!

Toge knows how exhausted you are, so he will definitely go over your whole body with a washcloth, and this, believe me, will be extremely pleasant. Then you just fall asleep on his chest while he peers into your face, tickling him from time to time with the touches of soft fingers.

M = Motivation

Your persistence

He gets maddened by the way you touch and feel his torso as he stands with his back to you. He feels how your hand moves to his chest, and each time he moans with delight, as if he was touching your tender body, not you. And you slowly and carefully examine its relief, running your fingers into your pants and touching a tense member. Oh, how you smile in response to his sighs and groans. What he thinks about you at this moment, even scary to imagine. Do you want to know his thoughts? You can do this to the fullest while he stands in front of the mirror and watches how you feel his body, looking at his face, which he is diligently trying to hide. But nothing comes of it, because you come closer to his ear and whisper: "Close your eyes ..." He obediently closes, and you passionately lick his neck, and he again moans with bliss. Damn right, he needs it right now.

N = No (Which will not do)

Something that will make you uncomfortable.

Inumaki is a person who truly wants love. It is on this that all his thoughts, plans, desires are concentrated. But not on using your passion as a tool to achieve sexual pleasure. If he ever hurts you or loses you altogether, then most likely he will not find an object for his love and will remain empty and timid until the end of his days. And this will be the saddest thing in his life. That is why he wants to give you what you need in order to receive your love in the maximum amount,

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

He tries with all his might to show that the guy is by nature a gentleman and idealist, but deep down he wants to get as much from you as possible. To do this, he tries to get all the pleasure from just one of your vulgar posture or appearance, the whole charm of which lies in the fact that he seems to be a normal action that does not cause orgasm even in the most dissolute, but still can cause something in between huge pleasure and deep shock. Such a difficult game, however, quite often happens if the guy realizes that you are completely open to his reach. And someday he will tell you about it, and you will probably laugh at it.

P = Pace

Able to suddenly accelerate, forcing you to take his fingers into your mouth. No matter how much you fuck, it will always come as a surprise to you, since a fast pace can appear at any moment, even at the very beginning.

Q = Quickie

Changeable. He chooses when he should accelerate. Even if there is nothing left to your general orgasm, it may slow down, on purpose, so that you begin to sigh heavily and beg to "be faster."

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

He does not like to talk about it, so, most likely, he is not ready. Inumaki is not afraid that everything will go through the same place as to harm you.

If he ever gets such an opportunity, he will show the cross with his hands. Even if somewhere in the depths of his soul he wants to do this, he will mentally slap himself in the face and say “no” to himself several times.

Yes, you are a very active person and you will always look for something new in order to try it soon, for which he fell in love with you. From the part. But at the same time, the guy knows very well that if something goes wrong, it will already be his fault that he did not have time to change his mind and refuse in time.

S = Stamina

On average, a couple of rounds are enough for him, and not to get tired, but to force your body to produce fluid. But this art is so subtle that it takes deep and long practice to master it. But Toge was able to "develop his own style" based solely on you. He knew by heart your movements, desires, weaknesses ... let's say, perfectly mastered your personal body language. And it does not take him long to bring you to the peak of pleasure.

T = Toys

Not an amateur.

When you offered him one just for a change, he frowned and shook his head. He does not consider it dirty, rather strange and completely unnecessary. He has a bad attitude not only to toys. When he first saw one of the varieties of BDSM, he reacted in much the same way.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Watching you wriggle with the desire for him to fuck your convulsing hole must be an incredibly exciting sight for him. Especially when you, wagging your hips, cum on his fingers, so that he immediately licks your lubricant dry. And you, mixed with an incredible sense of bliss, fuck his cock until you are exhausted, because this is the only way to somehow thank him for the affection.

Preludes are what Inumaki is really good at.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

Quite loud. For him, this is such a small complex that he tries to hide, biting your shoulders and collarbones, in order to drown out his own groan at least a little. But you think it's cute and you have already told him about it more than once, but he still continues to be embarrassed by his own voice. Perhaps he himself is embarrassed to hear the loud sounds that he is capable of making, because most of the time he is quiet as a mouse. But despite this, he is pleased that you, unlike him, do not take it as something informal or out of the ordinary.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

That night you fucked for quite a long period of time, because you, apparently, under the influence of your teenage hormones, decided to spend the whole day on how to drive him crazy with all the excitements that you know how to drink with the pathogen dissolved in water. You no longer remember what exactly your vicious hormones wanted: extra attention or the knowledge of what his maximum could be. In any case, you didn’t regret doing it.

Due to this, you guys had to sleep three hours more than you need to. As a result, both were late for training.

Who knew that Satoru Gojo was peeking into students' rooms !? Although it was obvious, nobody really thought about it.

— Hmm. What are all the same infinite adolescents are. Apparently I underestimated them. - picking up the used condom from the floor and grinning happily Gojo said.

Since then, the teacher from time to time, with an already annoying smile from her endless amount, glanced at you. But knowing that one person knew about it, it was already impossible to say for sure that someone else would not know about it either. In the end, secrets were useless to hide. Sooner or later, everyone would look askance at you. After all, an interesting couple, a strong shaman and a little vulgarity.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

13 cm, during erection ± 0.5

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

I will not deny that Toge finds you sexually attractive. Yes, he would like to be alone with you as much as possible. He knows that in a way he considers you to be his weakness. He understands that you, like a fallen star, can ignite in him not only passion, but also a thirst for euphoria. But Toge has no doubt that you are in the hands of someone who can protect you. Even from myself.

Sex is a good solution to remind you that both of you can be more vulnerable to each other, that you both have strengths and weaknesses, that one of you can show more than if he was like an open book. And, undoubtedly, each of you wants to experience this feeling at least once a week. But you and Inumaki do not forget that everything has its own measure. I have long been aware that soon frequent sex can affect your contraception, your health and sincerity (you can forget why you are doing all this). And in general, there is no need to do this too often in your relationship. Realism, what else to add?

± 5/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

It depends on how much the process exhausted him. As already mentioned, his endurance is much higher than, for example, yours. Therefore, for some indefinite rest of the time, he will look at your relaxed face, tuck a lock of hair behind your ear or stroke your bare shoulder. If your body decides to turn its back on it, it is unlikely that it will immediately stop touching you. Only after his hands pass from your shoulders to your hips and back, he will want to kiss you on the neck or on the cheek. And then he can easily make your body return to its previous position in order to spend several hours in an intoxicating bliss.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XXXII

A/n: More lime incoming! There is implied sex, but nothing to consider it a lemon/smut. It gets "dirty". That's it. Sorry if it comes across as weird. I'm still new to writing scenes like this. Also, I apologize if there's some inaccuracies in the end-game. It's been a while since I've played FFXV through entirely. Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

Prompto broke out into a sprint. He ran towards (Y/n) and encircled his arms around, lifting her body off the ground and spinning them both around in a circle. Her arms automatically wound around his neck when her feet left the ground. She was shocked at his reaction for a few seconds before becoming jubilated. When her feet were back on the ground, she slid her hands down his arms and blinked in surprise after feeling his muscles. "Geez, Prom. Have you been working out recently?" She then reaches up to touch his facial hair. "And when did you grow a beard?"

Prompto smiled, enjoying her gentle touch. He missed it and her serene voice. "You like it?"

"Oh, definitely. I think it suits you. It makes you look older, too."

His smile faltered. "(Y/n), do you realize it's been ten years?"

Her golden eyes widen in bewilderment. "Ten years? That can't be right. It's only been a few months."

"You've been asleep for the past ten years. But you..." His eyes raked over her appearance. "You haven't even aged a day."

"Wait, then that means you're older than me?!"

He laughed at her outburst. "Yep, by six years."

"That's not fair..."

He moves his hands from her back to her hips, pulling her closer to him. Leaning forward, he placed his forehead against hers. "I'm glad you're back, (Y/n)."

Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis approach the reunited couple with their own smiles. The brute chuckled when seeing the girl was still twenty-four years old. "Damn, wish I could've stayed young. You look good, short stuff."

"Indeed," Ignis said.

"I'll say," Noctis chortled. He approached the guardian, his smile slowly vanishing. He stopped in front of her with a guilt-stricken expression. "I'm sorry, (Y/n). It's my fault you and Prompto weren't able to spend the last ten years together."

She smiled brightly at him. "It's not your fault, Noctis. No one knew what was going to happen."

The man's smile returned. "Thanks, (Y/n)."

"Now then, I think all of us have some catching up to do." She grabbed Prompto's hand and tugged him towards her. "Especially you and me."

"Let us depart for the Leville," Ignis said.

Once reaching the hotel, they sat down in the seats located in the lobby. Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis shared details of what all they'd been doing these past ten years. Noctis and (Y/n) listened carefully, enjoying their lively conversation and learning what their friends had done in their absences. They chatted for hours on end until it was time for them to get some rest. After getting some sleep, they'd return to Hammerhead and begin final preparations before returning to Insomnia.

(Y/n) didn't even get a moment to herself when she stood up due to Prompto sweeping her off her feet and carrying her upstairs. She saw the other three men smirking as she was hauled off to one of the vacant rooms. She clung to her boyfriend, but had to let go when he needed to open the door. He reluctantly put her down and opened the door, holding it open for her. She glanced around the room, recognizing the painting hanging on the wall. "Wait, isn't this the room where-?"

Her question was interrupted when Prompto suddenly pushed her back against the now locked door. No sound came from her, too flabbergasted to speak. She stared up at him as his taller form loomed over her. "Prom?" Without saying a word, Prompto slipped his hands under her backside. He lifted her up, her back still pressed against the door. She placed her hands on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling. A small huff of laughter slipped past her lips. "Someone's eager."

"I finally get you back after ten long years. Who wouldn't be eager in my position?" Prompto remarked. "These past ten years have been hard without you or Noct. I felt like there were pieces of me missing..."

(Y/n) moved her hands from his shoulders to his cheeks, cradling them gently in her palms and stroking his freckle-kissed skin. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I still can't believe it's been ten years. You really have matured in body and soul." A smirk made its way onto her face. "I gotta say, you look even more handsome than you did before."

Prompto could feel heat coursing through his veins. Without skipping a beat, he carried her to the bed and pinned her to the sheets. He sat between her legs, eyes becoming bright with lust. His hands that were still nestled against her rump squeezed the soft, plush skin. (Y/n) jumped slightly when feeling his hands clutch her hindquarters. "H-Hey now..."

"Sorry, did I go too far?" He asked nervously, afraid he did something he wasn't supposed to.

"Nothing like that. Just surprised me, is all."

"So, does that mean I can keep going?"

"Please do," she replied with a sigh of content. "Now that you're touching me, I don't want you to stop." Laying her arms on the bed, she allowed herself to enjoy his intimate touch. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning when his hands traced her sides and came to a stop near her bosom. His hands suddenly brushed against the sides of her breasts, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. Then, he busied himself with trying to take off her clothes. Within seconds, she was in only her bra and underwear.

Seeing he was staring at the valley between her breasts, (Y/n) decided to take this chance to flip their positions. Straddling Prompto's hips, she grinned down at him. "You've got another thing coming if you think I'm gonna be the only one undressed." She easily took off his shirt and tossed it aside. Her eyes landed on his bare torso, which stopped her from removing his pants. Placing her hands on his abdomen, she traced her fingers over his defined muscles. "Dear Astrals, Prom. What has your workout routine been these past ten years? This is the most muscle I've ever seen on you."

"Hey, I worked hard for this body. Daemon hunting happens to be quite a good workout routine, even though it's kinda dangerous," Prompto said. "Maybe we should do some-" His sentence was abruptly interrupted by a pleasurable moan when she gently raked her fingers across his abs and stopped just above his groin. He grabbed her hands before they could graze against his length, which was still confined in his pants. "Y-You're entering some dangerous territory, (Y/n)."

"Oh, I know." Moving her hands to his belt, she painstakingly removes it with a smirk. "We're two idiots in love and I think it's about time we took our relationship to the next level. It has been ten years, after all."

"Are you sure this is what you want, (Y/n)?"

She nodded, her coy smirk morphing into a gentle smile. "It is, Prom. I want all of you, body and soul."

Hearing that was all the motivation Prompto needed. He helped her with his pants and now they were both in their undergarments. The (h/c)-haired girl remained on top, her hands resting against his lower abdomen. She slipped a couple of fingers under the waistband and curled them upward. Her simple touches were enough to get him heated up, which she could simply tell from when she felt something poke her inner thigh. Her eyes focused on his face as she pulled down his underwear slightly. The smirk that was once gone returned after seeing his red cheeks and hearing a few moans from him.

Freezing her actions, Prompto exhaled a shaky breath. "I-It's not nice to tease people, (Y/n)..."

"I'm simply taking my time. I didn't expect you to be putty in my hands this quick," she said.

Prompto couldn't stand it any longer. He flipped their positions, eliciting a shriek from the guardian. He could feel his length straining against the fabric of his underwear. He wouldn't last much longer if he hadn't done something. Prying her legs further apart, he grabbed her legs and pulled her against him. His hardened member presses against her wet, heated core. She gasped at the contact, gripping the sheets. He giddily grinned at her reaction. "Looks like the roles are reversed now."

She giggled lightly. "It sure does look that way." Unfurling her fingers from the sheets, she reaches up to place her hands on his shoulders. "Maybe I should-"

Prompto immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them beside her head. His nose brushed against hers as he loomed over her. "Oh, I don't think so. I'm in charge now and it's gonna stay that way." He places his lips over hers and kissed her passionately. It only took a few seconds for the kiss to turn deep, resulting in a lengthy make-out session.

Once the kiss ended, (Y/n) wrapped her legs around Prompto's waist and dragged him even closer. Now there wasn't any space left between their bodies. "I know you're the one in charge, but can you hurry this up? I'm dying here," she groaned.

He laughed. "Better not keep a lady waiting."

She smiled up at him. "I'm all yours, Prompto."

<--------------<<<<<

Five hours later, Prompto and (Y/n) woke up from their slumber at the sound of Ignis' voice. The advisor knocked on their door and called out their names to inform them they'd be departing for Hammerhead in the next hour.

The guardian rolled out of Prompto's embrace and threw her legs over the edge of the bed. She looked around for her undergarments, which had been haphazardly thrown across the room by the blonde. She found them a few feet away from her clothes. Standing up, she stumbled slightly when feeling a dull, throbbing pain between her legs. Her strange waddling didn't go unnoticed by her lover. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, climbing out of bed and grabbing his underwear.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she reassured him as she put her bra and panties back on. "Just sore. Let's just hope I can walk straight before we leave..."

The couple put their clothes back on and left the room twenty minutes later. They regrouped with Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis in the lobby before leaving Lestallum with Talcott.

The drive back to Hammerhead was peaceful even with the sound of daemons echoing around them. When they stepped out of the truck, Ignis and Gladio went to procure supplies for their upcoming dangerous mission. Noctis, Prompto, and (Y/n) waited for them to return. They chatted until the two older men sauntered out of Takka's with plenty of supplies. With their stock now full, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis went to change into their Kingsglaive uniforms. Now with everyone ready, they walked towards the gate.

Waving farewell to Cindy, Takka, and Talcott, the four leave Hammerhead and walk done the darkened road towards Insomnia. They wander down the road for a while before Noctis decided to ask for one last camping trip with everyone. The five decide to make camp on the same hill overlooking Insomnia where they once bore witness to the imperial invasion. Ignis cooks their dinner, just as he did in the old days.

After everyone finished eating, a melancholic silence befell the group. (Y/n), feeling as if the men needed to speak, stood up. Before she could walk away, Noctis stopped her. "Wait, (Y/n). I want all of you to hear this." He glances around at the faces of his friends. "I, um..." His voice failed him. He wasn't sure what exactly to say.

"Out with it," Gladio said.

"I just..." Noctis leans forward and looks down. They're all silent for another moment. The king's left hand clenches as he sighs and fidgets with his hands. "Dammit. The hell is this so hard?"

Noctis laces his fingers together. "So, I..." He leans back and lets his left hand rest on his leg. He then looks at his friends. "I've made my peace. Still... Knowing this is it, and seeing you here, now." His voice cracks and a tear streaks down his face as he continues. "It's...more than I can take." Noctis looks down once again and clenches his hands together.

All of them are silent. Gladio wipes away a tear with the back of his hand. Prompto, with a sorrowful expression, was the first to speak up. "Yeah. You're damn right it is."

"You spit it out," Gladio mumbled.

After another brief silence, Iggy sighs as a tear streaks down his cheek from under his visor. "It's good to hear."

(Y/n) opted to remain silent, having nothing to add. They all look down in silence for a long moment.

At last, Noctis stands and looks at each of his friends in turn. "Well...what can I say?"

Prompto looks down and rubs away tears.

Noctis looks at them all with tear-filled eyes. "You guys...are the best."

When the men retired to the tent to get some rest, (Y/n) remained sitting by the fire. She stared into the flames before making up her mind. Walking a short ways away from camp, she casted her desolate gaze to the sky. Although the sky was dark, she could still see the glistening Celestial Crescent. She opened her mouth and called out to the god. "Brahma..."

Yes, Child of Pneuma?

"I know I am in no position for asking a being such as yourself for anything, but..."

Speak for I shall listen.

The guardian spoke to the Astral for a few minutes before having to end their discussion. She sighed, looking towards the destroyed city she calls home. Her mind was off in its own world until hearing the sound of Prompto's voice. "Heyaz."

Looking away from the ruins of Insomnia, (Y/n) offered a smile as he walked towards her. "Hey, Prom. I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Believe it or not, it's been difficult sleeping these past ten years. I was so used to you being there that it's tough for me to sleep without you. Even after ten years, I never really was able to solve the problem. But now that you're back, I don't think I'll have that issue any longer," he said.

"You missed me that much, huh?" She laughed.

"Six, you have no idea..."

She grabbed his hands, entwining their fingers. "You'll need all the sleep you can get. We wouldn't want you collapsing on us." Tugging on their conjoined hands, she took a couple steps towards the tent. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get some sleep."

The couple crawled into the tent with the others and tried to get as much sleep as possible. It was only six hours later did they wake up to find Noctis had changed into the Kingly Raiment. Gladio and Ignis stood by the outskirts of the camp, waiting to leave and face their final battle together. Prompto went to join the older men while (Y/n) remained behind. Noctis glanced at her and said, "Make sure to watch out for him for me, (Y/n)."

She nodded. "I will."

He smiled sorrowfully. "Thank you." He then walked away, joining the others.

The guardian stared at the back of the king, remembering the promise Brahma made with her a few hours ago. "An exchange, huh?" She whispered to herself.

"C'mon, short stuff," Gladio called out to her. "You're one of us now and there's no way in hell we're leaving you behind."

She smirked. "On my way."

The group leaves the campsite and heads for Insomnia. They crossed through the checkpoint and sauntered their way across the lengthy bridge. Daemons were already proving to be an issue, but the five were able to fight through a few before reaching the city.

With his greatsword slung over his shoulder, Gladio looked around the city as the Citadel loomed in the distance. "Home, sweet home."

"Yeah, at long last," Prompto said, coming to a stop between Noctis and Ignis.

"What we've been waiting for..." The strategist stated.

"Sure is."

Gladio walked alongside the marksman and advisor. "Next stop: the Citadel."

"Yeah," Noctis muttered as his three friends walked ahead.

(Y/n) was lagging a few steps behind the king and watched him as he puts on the Ring of the Lucii. She decided to walk past him, smiling in reassurance. "Miracles happen every day."

Noctis heard her as she walked ahead to join the others. He stared at her back, wondering what she meant by those words. He wanted to question her, but didn't get the chance as they were soon attacked by a group of eternal troopers. "This is it-give it your all, guys!" Noctis shouted as he summoned his sword and performed a warp-strike.

Gladio grinned, setting his sights on a single enemy. "Yeah."

"You got it!" Prompto chanted, firing his pistol.

"With pleasure," Ignis said with a hint of a smirk, throwing one of his daggers and impaling a trooper.

"I could use a good warmup." (Y/n), having been slumbering for the past ten years, decided to transform. She shook her body, her tails flaring outward. It felt good to be in her spiritual form again, even though it had only felt like months to her. She leapt at one of the eternal troopers lingering in the distance, killing the machine with ease. Turning her large form around, she saw the men had dealt with the other mechanical troopers.

"We haven't fought together like this in ages. Never thought I'd miss seeing short stuff turn enemies into chew toys," Gladio chuckled.

"Really takes you back, doesn't it?" Noctis asked.

"We may have struggled before, but now nothing can stand in our way!" Prompto cheered as he ran up to his guardian. He wound his arms around her neck, burying his face into her soft fur. "Ahhh, how I've missed this... The two of us would've been the talk of Lucis if we were hunting partners."

The fox's ears twitched when hearing approaching enemies. She growled, alerting the men. They had their weapons ready as more eternal troopers and an iseultalon daemon emerged from the side street ahead.

Noctis, with determination, raised his sword and prepared to attack. "Let's make this quick."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist ||

[murdersexual]

Heeeyyyy can I get an leorio nsfw alphabet 👉🏼👈🏼

6 FUCKING DAYS OVERDUE! I AM SO FUCKING SORRY! 🥲

I am terribly RUSTY at doing NSFW Alphabet. 😥😥😥 I had POSTING anxiety because of it. 😰😰😰

Feel free to challenge me to one liner fics, more alpha, and blah.

🚨WARNING MOTHAFUCKAHS🚨 (You’re all not mothafuckahs! I’m sorry 😥)

-RATED MA.

-STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT.

-NOT PROOFREAD!

-May contain HELLA mistakes.

NOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... READETH THE SHIT!

And now presenting...

Murdersexual’s Leorio - NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After a long round of position switching, tender and breathy whispers, passionately rough love making, just know you’re in the hands of a natural caretaker. Leorio’s the type to have an atmosphere made for the absolute best of comfort. If you’re at his spot, he’ll have the finest of AC in his room, a mini fridge full of various chilled drinks for you to pick from, the most fluffiest of blankets and most plush of pillows—unless you rather his chest be your pillow—all for you to be at ease. He’s the type to lay back and relax, maybe crack a few jokes while giving you compliments to your sex game. And after you both catch your breath? A round two or three or four maybe possible~

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you? Everything is perfect. There’s not anything to love about you! And on him? Well the same goes for that matter. There’s not a day where he won’t stand in the mirror and smirk with radiant confident and say: “Hmph, I look good~”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Facials are a yes for him! To see your face highlighted from his cum will never fail to turn him all the way on~ That and if you’re giving him the most soul-sucking of blowjobs, watching you swallow his cum is always a win. 💦 Glazing your ass in his ‘glaze’ is one of his favourites as well. Especially since his pull out game is IMMACULATE.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There’s more or less not a day where he’d come up with some pretty risky and outrageous fantasies. From the craziest of roleplays, using new props, being in very risky locations—like a dressing room in a clothing store. It’s never dull with him regardless but he rather not reveal such to you for he may or may not like to keep you guessing.

(For fucksake, I SUCK at these... 🥲)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Hell to fuck yeah he knows what he’s doing! He’s more or less the one who’s hella encouraging and motivating to you to try all of the craziest shit he’s tried during his first time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary with one leg propped up on his muscular ass shoulder. Watching your expressions as he hits all of your sweet spots while secretly testing your flexibility is why he adores this one. Then there’s Doggystyle. He can never get enough of going to pound town until you try to put a hand on his thigh. Hell, prepare to get your hand smacked away or pinned to your lower back. That and he’ll make you throw it back~

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends! But more or less, he will crack a joke or two here and there, anything to have a quick breathy laugh. After all, not all bedroom action has to be so boring, right?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Oohhh, he’s rather nicely set down below. His happy trail is rather light, tamed and pretty fine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It’s always going to be passionately romantic. From touches, kisses, the low and soft whispers of genuine admiration and love… Just him having that naturally gentle sensuality is what makes every little second all the more euphoric~

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s far away, there’s never time he doesn’t think about you. But when you send him some rather teasing photos, the temptation can’t be helped!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Satin ribbons, roleplay and domination seems like plausible kinks. Tying you up in some satin ribbons, just to see the deep colours against your skin looks amazing to him. Roleplay? Oh my, since he’s most definitely in school to be a doctor, let’s just say you’re going to always be his favourite patient to tend to~ Domination? He’s going to always be on top unless you somehow charm your way to making him beg for mercy. He’s going to always command you to throw that ass back and so on~

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a much more of a private type of guy, so more or less anywhere in his place—dorm or whatever. That means, couch, bed, shower, hell, even the wall! Oh, kitchen table! Maybe even bend your ass over the counter~ Same goes for your place~

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Teasing is a big one as well as when you’re mad at him. It’s lowkey kinda hot to him, especially since he’ll fuck your attitude away.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Don’t tell him you want some other guy fucking you while he watches. He’ll cuss you out and probably not want to see you for the rest of the day. That and he would never do anything that you wouldn’t want to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Watch out, his tongue game is fuego. 👅💦 He will give and he’ll make sure that he receives! There’s no half and no other half!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Starting out, his stroke game will be slow and long with a few twists and wiggle of his hips. He may slowly pull out all the way until the tip is all that remains inside. Midway? Stroke game gets shorter and quicker, and he’ll reach even further on the inside. After discovering all of your spots, you’re going to feel every little bit of him. He wants your legs to shake, hips to quiver, back to arch and toes and fingers to curl.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies before his early morning class or before he heads out. He doesn’t mind one as long as you’re down for it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He loves to experiment! He’s open to MOST ideas! The riskier the more tempting. Ask him to fuck in public or in a car across from the police station, he’ll be down for it. 😏

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is OUT OF THIS WORLD! 😏 Hopefully you can keep up~ Rounds? Probably about 4? Maybe 5! There’s no telling. He’ll go until his balls are completely drained~

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ah, does fuzzy handcuffs and satin ribbons count? 👀 You can T R Y to use it on him but his strong ass will break out of them~

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases waayyyy too much! 😤 It’s even worse when he’s far away visiting his friends, he’s always FaceTiming or Skyping you looking way too fucking good... But when he gets back to you, he’ll pay for it! Not that he’d complain right?

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Typically, he’s loud when he’s snappy, but in the bedroom? His voice is much quieter... Suave and low. His grunts and moans are pretty quiet but when he’s fucking you outta anger or if he’s drunk? He’s pretty loud~

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a lot of pornographic magazines and Kama sutra books. He’ll fold the pages with some key positions or outfits he may want to try with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Beneath those clothes, you’ll come to see that Leorio is far more muscular than what he appears. He also has a ‘third’ leg down below that’s pretty flesh coloured, long and girthy. Since most of the things he wears is pretty fitted, you can never miss what’s packing in those boxer briefs and beneath that tank top and long sleeved button up.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty high. (I mean duh, he’s a goddamn sex symbol. 😏) However, its controllable. You can always tell from the way his eyes scan you up and down and how he smirks with a soft bit of his bottom lip.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

YOU will ALWAYS be the first to fall asleep! There are times where he wanna fall asleep first with you but he’s more or less up doing any homework assignments or talking to his squad. Maybe even cleaning up then hitting the showers. His domestic ways are one of his biggest secrets.

You may now applaud!

Encore?

Thank you for the request! 😅 Sorry it’s not as good, I really... REALLY tried. 👉🏼👈🏼 I may actually have to come back and do this over... Because Leorio DESERVES! 😤 My little (tall) Koi Fish deserves waaayyyyy more love! (I really tried with the aesthetic omfuck...)

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Nine

(Prevoius chapter found here)

Also there’s a discord now link here

You guys ready to hate me?

Zane has learned something new about himself.

When his power source is inspected and manipulated, it is a torture like no other. He can confirm that it causes more pain than anything he’s ever felt before.

In short, it is a very unpleasant experience.

No matter how he attempts to resist, it never makes a difference. He’s begun to fear that he may eventually fall victim to learned helplessness and become more easily manipulated, so he has redoubled his efforts in an attempt to avoid such a fate.

Still, it is difficult to hold on to his beliefs when every attempt is abruptly stopped even as it had barely begun.

Another shout of pain escapes him as his power source is roughly manhandled as the current roboticist studies it closer.

Zane takes slow, deep breaths as he attempts to keep himself calm and grounded. At the very least, they have not yet realized how similar he functions to the human body- or more specifically, how all of his sensors, like nerves, meet at his spinal cord- or his recreation of one.

He once again attempts to do something to stop the mechanic working on him, but the man only sighs and glares at him. “Hold still, Original. I’m busy.”

“My name is Zane,” Zane corrects, “and I do not take orders from you- or anyone else, for the matter.”

Another biting glare is his response. “Do we need to use General to motivate you?”

Zane’s artificial skin begins to prickle. They refer to Cryptor by that name. They are not… are they threatening to hurt the other to get him to behave?

With a shake of his head, Zane renews his defiance. Surely they would not enact such a threat.

“I will not do as you say,” he snaps, “and if you hope to use idle threats to intimidate me, such an effort will be a failure!”

The man arches an eyebrow. “Martha’s not gonna like that.” He mutters to himself, likely not expecting Zane to be able to hear.

Frowning, Zane attempts to see if he can determine the owner of the name. After compiling data of previous conversations he had overheard, he comes to the conclusion that Martha must be the official that is in charge of his torture- or as they refer to it, ‘training’.

He attempts to speak another time, but all that comes out is a choked out cry of pain as his power source is once again maltreated.

Deep breaths, in and out. He must keep himself grounded. He cannot afford to break any more than he already has.

With clenched teeth, he struggles against the bonds once again.

He must not give up hope. No matter what they say or do, he must remain strong.

He will not break again.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Cryptor feels confusion wash over him as he’s taken to the workshop. Typically they only take one of them there at a time- why would they have both him and Zane there?

Unease takes over him as he walks. The last time they had two nindroids in the workshop…

/“Stop, that’s not- STOP IT!”/

It takes everything he has to not break his emotionless facade. This is fine. He knows that the reason they hurt the other was because Cryptor was more valuable and that Zane is more valuable than him, but it’s fine.

He just needs to do as he’s told and follow orders. That’s it. Whatever they have planned, it’s just for show, just to scare Zane.

Nothing is going to happen. Its just that the memories have been re-hashed recently. There’s no reason for him to be afraid.

It’s fine.

When he’s led inside the workshop, he has to force his breathing to remain even. It doesn’t mean anything that Zane is held captive in the same spot that Cryptor was the last time, and it doesn’t mean anything that Cryptor’s on the same table that the previous captive had been. It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.

He’s lucky enough that they don’t notice how he shakes when he’s strapped onto the table or the way his breathing picks up.

He recognizes the official in charge of the training project- Martha, her name is- standing off to the side. But once Cryptor is fully restrained, she steps forward and speaks, addressing Zane.

“You seem to have once again forgotten your place, Original. Maybe this will teach you-“

Zane spits in her face.

There’s a few moments of absolute silence after the action, everyone in the room processing what he had done.

Zane still has an expression of defiance as he speaks up. “I will never fall victim to your lies!”

The silence is deafening, and a minute of it passes before Martha speaks up.

“Actions have consequences.” She says in a sharp tone, looking back over to Cryptor.

Cryptor feels his power source kick into overdrive.

Damn it, Zane! Why did he have it do that?! He may have just caused what would be- now they might-

Fear takes a cold grasp over him as he comes to the implications of what she might mean. They- no, they won’t…

But won’t they?

/“Make them stop! General- Gen- Cryptor! Make them stop!”/

He tries to remain still and calm as they open him up, but he finds himself breaking his facade in no time at all as they start digging around inside of him.

“Stop!” He chokes out, starting to strain against his bonds. “Don’t- I-“

/“Stop it!” The other nindroid had beeped, trying to resist the way he was being roughly and carelessly opened. “Let- let go of me!”

None of the humans had listened, and Cryptor had started to realize that this was more than an inspection./

There are disapproving and confused looks thrown his way, but Cryptor doesn’t care, he can’t keep pretending to be what they want, not to the death. He won’t die while adhering to their whims! He refuses to let his last moments be spent under their commands!

“Don’t you dare! I don’t- you- let me go right now! Right now!” He continues to struggle, but nothing works- he’s completely trapped.

He can feel his breathing picking up as he begins to reach a point of panic. He can’t- they won’t-

/Cryptor couldn’t do anything but watch as the other screamed in pain and thrashed in his bonds.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” Martha had said in a threatening tone. “It’s only because you have value that your fate is not the same.”

It was then that he had realized what they were doing to the other.

They were going to disassemble him./

“Let me go!” Cryptor shouts, biting back another cry of pain.

“So it was fake,” Martha muses, “I had suspected that.”

He can barely even hear her words, too focused on trying to escape, to escape the fate that the other had suffered to.

To escape what had been done to Mindroid.

“Don’t do this! Please!” Cryptor hates the way he’s begging, he hates the way his dignity is crumbling around him, but only one thought occupies his mind.

He doesn’t want to die.

/No matter what the other had done, they only ignored him.

“PLEASE!” Mindroid had beeped. “I- General, make them stop! Make them stop!”

“Leave him alone!” Cryptor had finally managed to get the words out. “Stop it!” Turing to Martha, he had continued. “Release him! Now!”

She had only shaken her head, an annoyed expression on her face.

“This is a lesson.” She had reminded. “Whether or not you learn from it is up to you.”/

“Leave him alone!” Zane unknowingly repeats the same words that Cryptor had spoken. “Stop it!”

Cryptor can feel himself on the verge of a forced shut down- the equivalent of a human passing out- from his panic, but the pain keeps him from it, it forces him to be there for every moment of this.

“It was my fault!” Zane shouts, his own panic in his voice. “Don’t hurt him!”

/“Don’t hurt him!” Cryptor had yelled. More panic overtook him as he watched Mindroid slowly come closer to what would end up being his demise. “It was my fault!”

Martha had given him an unimpressed expression, and Cryptor realized exactly what he was willing to do to save Mindroid.

“Take me instead!”/

“I should be the one being punished, please, release him! Let him go! He has done nothing, it was my defiance! Please!” Zane strains in his bonds, and Cryptor feels himself shaking at how similar the circumstances are.

“Please stop!” He sobs out, finally abandoning the last shred of his pride. “Stop it! I- Master, please!”

The torment pauses for a moment as the roboticist looks over at Martha, waiting for some kind of confirmation of what to do.

Zane stares with a look of dismay, clearly unsure of what to do, if he should give in the same way Cryptor had. When they make eye contact, Cryptor shakes his head ever so slightly.

His death doesn’t have to be Zane’s breaking point. He has a chance of still being rescued, but as for Cryptor…

Hopefully they’ll stop dragging this out.

Cryptor winces and flinches away as some of the tools come up to his face, but abruptly stops struggling a few moments later.

Did they…

Did they cut off his motor functions?

It seems that they did, because no matter how hard he tries, he can’t move, he can’t twitch, he can’t even blink.

He’s helpless, unable to even scream as his facial blaster is disconnected, leaving the eye beneath exposed- a very uncomfortable feeling.

“Let him go! What- whatever you plan to do to him, do it to me instead!” Zane begs, a note of desperation on his voice. “It was my actions, he did nothing wrong!”

He’s ignored, and Cryptor feels so much pain, pain that feels as though it should kill him as parts of his face plate begin to be disconnected.

Martha walks over to him. “You’re not human,” she reminds, “and this will remind you of that.”

Cryptor tries to struggle and move away, but he’s not even able to beg for mercy as more and more of his outer covering is stripped away.

/“Mindroid…” Cryptor had breathed out the name of his ally one last time as the lights in the other’s eyes had flickered out, his power source disconnected.

“You killed him!” He had yelled, fury mixing with his pain. “You- you murdered him!”

Martha only shook her head. “You can’t kill what was never alive.”/

“Stop it! Don’t hurt him!” Zane is still struggling, still trying to free himself. “Leave him alone!”

Cryptor finds himself wishing he could scream, to somehow express the pain he’s going through, because it hurts, it hurts so much!

The tools are taken away and his motor functions are restored, but he still can’t move, is still stuck in his bonds.

At least it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Glancing over, he manages to catch a glimpse of his reflection in a sheet of metal not too far away, and what he sees makes him cringe.

Faceplate stripped away, he looks more monstrous than human, more machine than man- he looks like the kind of thing you would see in a horror movie.

When him and Zane are dragged back to the lockers, neither of them resist. Shoved inside and the doors closed, neither of them try to tap on the sides.

Cryptor can’t even see his reflection with the lack of light, but he knows that it’s there.

She said she wanted to remind him that he’s not human.

As tearless sobs wrack his body, Cryptor finds himself wishing he was.

[plethora-of-imagines]

Hypnotic Love

AN: @how-masterful and I finished the last Delgado!Master story which inspired me to finish this soft fic in order to help reduce the sadness of it being the last of the new content for him. I have had this sitting in my drafts for ages but I’m finally done and happy with it!

Word Count: 2642

Warnings: hypnosis (consensual)

Description: You wonder about the Master’s thoughts on free will and democracy which lead to a unexpected hypnotic confession.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

You tangled your legs with the Master's. Intertwining them together as you shifted your head into a better position over his left heart. You could hear his left heartbeat better than the other with your head now positioned directly over his left heart. The soothing double heartbeat causing you to let out a quiet pleased hum. So quiet that it got caught halfway in your throat, turning it into a slightly strangled hum.

One of the Master's arms was holding you close while the other wandered. Brushing your hair from your face before cradling your face in his gloveless hand. Trailing along the side of your neck before lightly scratching at your shoulder, left uncovered by your tank top. You shivered slightly as his nails played with your nerves. Making your hair stand on end with his ghosting attention.

Letting your mind wander you remembered the questions you had wanted to ask him earlier. He had been trying to persuade some semi important man to join in his latest scheme. You had swallowed your questions so as to not jeopardize the partnership, but now you were alone with the Master and free to inquire. He had spoken so cruelly of free will and democracy to the man, you couldn't help but wonder what his real opinion was. 

He had always seemed to believe that women should get to control their own lives so you doubted he despised free will as much as he had implied. Though with his desire to rule the universe he probably wasn't overly fond of an extreme amount of free will. And democracy seemed to be the sort of idea that he would find interesting to observe. Not that you suspected he would be fond of it in practice unless it secured him power. With his natural charisma and charm it would be no struggle for him to convince a population to support him in his candidacy. So, you doubted that he really believed democracy was pointless! Even if he wasn’t fond of it.

“Master?”

You could only hope that your curiosity did not ruin the mood. It was nice to be spending time together peacefully like this. You would never forgive yourself if you destroyed the peace in this moment.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you really dislike democracy?”

“Not entirely,” all of his attention was focused on you. It made you feel wonderful to be capable of holding his attention. It was an honor that not many received, the Master’s indulgent and patient attention. “Democracy as a concept is a good idea, in fact I have to admit I admire it. Unfortunately, it is rarely truly executed as it was conceived."

His hand paused in its movement back and forth along your shoulder.  Moving to brush your hair away from your face again after your shifting caused it to fall, covering your eyes again. The whole time he adjusted your hair he continued his elaboration.

"The ideas of it are something to be admired but in practice it never seems to work as well as it would in theory. It can also be quite the hassle to deal with when trying to gain control over an area and it’s resources for one of my plans.”

“Hmm,” you let out an attentive hum as you continued to look into his eyes. “What about free will? With your skills in regard to hypnosis, it must just be a minor annoyance.”

The small smile he returned to you only made you feel even more content.

"You flatter me, my dear. In many cases you are correct, it is nothing more than a small annoyance to overcome another's will with my own. However, there are some who have wills strong enough to resist my attempts at hypnosis. A rare few can even break out of my control over time as well! Given enough time I could slowly place someone strong-willed under my control. But, my dear, I have found that other methods of, shall we call it persuasion- are much more efficient in such cases."

You lifted your head off of the Master's chest, propping yourself up on one arm.

"Has anyone strong-willed ever willingly submitted to your will? Choosing to let you hypnotize them?"

"No one had done me the honor as of yet," his eyes were filled with a warm affection. "You always have the most thought-provoking questions, my dear. I must admit I had never thought about someone willingly submitting to my hypnosis before."

Looking away you bit your lip. You knew what you wanted but you were nervous to ask him for it.

"I'm a bit curious... Master? Do I have a strong will?"

You danced around the subject. Hopeful that he would catch on to your implications and ensure that you did not have to admit to your desires.

"Worried that I may decide to hypnotize you, my dear?" 

His hand reached to make you look back into his eyes again.

"You have nothing to worry about, my darling. I wouldn't be able to hypnotize you,  your will is too strong to succumb to such a manipulation of your mind."

Your nose scrunched up minutely as he said that, he had misunderstood you. You realized now that you had made such an expression you would need to explain it’s meaning. If you didn’t explain he would ask. He always paid close attention to your every facial expression. It was better to explain yourself before he drew any potential conclusions. Or more accurately formed a hypothesis and drew his own biased conclusion no matter your protests. 

"I’m not worried about you hypnotizing me at all. I actually think that I would like you to hypnotize me Master."

He looked shocked by your words. The hand that had been holding your chin in place moving to rest against your forehead.

"Are you feeling alright, my dear? I simply cannot believe that you would want to give up your free will. Your willing submission is more than enough."

"It’s not me giving up my free will Master. It’s me choosing to trust you completely and submit fully to you."

It took him a few moments to process your words. His hand moving gently down the side of your face. Cradling your face between his hands as if it was a fragile piece of equipment or a precious jewel. Always so full of care and caution in every gesture when it came to you.

"I'll admit I would like to try," even with his admission he still seemed hesitant. "It would be a most precious gift to have you willingly allow me into your mind in such a manner."

He searched your face for any signs of regret. Finding no signs he then searched for any apprehension in your expression. Seeing nothing but calm consent he gave into his desire.

"I will be gentle, my dear. If at any point you are uncomfortable you can fight back and I shall release you from my control. Do you understand?"

"I understand,” you were eager to experience the Master going into your mind. It sounded like it would be pleasantly blissful and slightly intimate.

“Excited enough to forget your manners, my dear? And make sure to tell me what it is that you understand. I would hate for a simple miscommunication to cause you any amount of suffering!”

“Sorry,” you sheepishly replied. “I understand, Master. If I feel uncomfortable I will fight to resist your control, so that you know to release your control over me.”

“Good girl. Now just look into my eyes with an open mind.”

You looked deep into his eyes as they drew you in. You didn't resist the pull you felt, allowing yourself to fall into his grasp. You melted into the Master's hands. Going completely slack, his hands were the only things keeping you from falling face first into his chest.

"Who do you obey?"

"You, my Master."

The Master guided your head to rest against his chest again. Right over his left heart as you had positioned yourself so carefully at the start of this discussion. All of your limbs felt floaty, every inch of you tingling. Your body disconnected from your mind. Outside of your control. You felt surprisingly comfortable. You imagined that it was only due to knowing that it was the Master in control. You had always felt safe by his side.

“How do you feel, my dear?”

“Floaty,” your voice took on a slightly breathless tone. Your tongue felt weird in your own mouth. While you were speaking genuinely, it felt like your voice was not yours. “But content and safe in my Master’s arms.”

The Master took one of your hands into his own. Intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a firm squeeze. It served to ground you, the floaty feeling retreating. You still felt disconnected from your own body but the tingling was gone. You hadn’t known that you could relax further than you already had.

“There we go, my darling. Completely underneath my control, utterly submissive and obedient to my will.”

His voice was soft. Quiet, but firmly reassuring. You had a loopy smile on your face that you couldn’t stop. He was so gentle with you.

“I have to admit a certain curiosity about you and your motives. Never before would I have imagined someone choosing to stay by my side as you do. I cannot help but question what you truly think of me. What has made you decide to stay with me.”

His hand slid away from yours so that the only physical contact that remained between the two of you was your head against his chest. The floaty feeling only slightly coming back. Subtle enough to not be distracting like before.

"Why do you obey your Master?"

"I love my Master," the answer came with no hesitation.

Abruptly the haze that had filled your mind broke. Reality rushed back into your mind. The sounds of the TARDIS and the Master’s heart beats roared in your ears. The dim lighting seemed to shine brighter than suns in your eyes. Everything overwhelmed you. The strongest sensation of all was the feeling of the Master’s mind yanking itself away. It felt as if you had been physically pushed away from the Master even as you were still laying on his chest just over his heart. Tears filled your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of loss, of emptiness. You refused to let them fall. If it was affecting you this much it must be so much worse for the Master. You must have done something wrong to cause the hypnosis to backfire and snap apart as it had.

You lifted yourself up off of his chest, looking into his wide eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

You had barely gotten the last word of your question out before you were pulled down, crashing into his lips. It was the deepest kiss you had even been given by the Master. Normally he gave light pecks, focused on maintaining propriety. This kiss however was full of passion.

He released your lips just as you were running out of breath. Inhaling, you blinked a few times. Looking at him in dazed surprise. Before you could process what had just happened you were pulled back into another kiss just as passionate as the first. He pulled your body so that it was fully on top of his as you did your best not to squirm.

As he started to break the second kiss he seemed compelled to chase your lips for one last quick peck.

"I never dared to think that you might stay with me out of love."

"Silly, of course I love you," you gave a small kiss to his nose and then his lips. Before your embarrassment at your actions caught up to you and you hid your face in his chest with an embarrassed whine. Why had you done that? Now you could never show your face to him again!

He wasted no time in pulling your face away from his chest, "I'm afraid that I'm not going to allow you to hide your pretty, flustered face from me, my dear."

Your face pressed into his hands as you tried to hide your flustered face once again. It of course accomplished nothing. So you closed your eyes to give yourself the illusion of hiding.

"Absolutely adorable."

He spoke softly, as if the words were just for him but needed to be said. Peeking at his expression you could see open adoration for you. Seeing his open adoration you managed to find the courage to open your eyes and face the Master despite your flushed face and bright red cheeks.

"I really do love you more than anything Master,” you softly admitted.

"I fear if you keep telling me that you love me that I will never let you go again, my dear. I would keep you by my side for the rest of eternity."

There was a seriousness to his words that told you he spoke the truth, but you didn't mind. You would never want to leave him anyway.

"I love you, Master."

His eyes softened when you repeated your declaration.

"May I hypnotize you again, my darling? I broke my hold over you quite abruptly before which may have left your mind open for others to get in. I will warn you that my hold on your mind will be more possessive now."

"Yes, you may hypnotize me again Master."

You looked into his eyes and with one statement you were comfortably held in his control, "obey your Master."

His hand brushed through your hair as you basked in the nice feeling of your mind being fully held by the Master.

"Let me know if it gets overwhelming, my dear. I'm doing all that I can to hold back for you."

"Don't need to hold back. M' entirely Master's."

The hold on your mind grew, heavy. But heavy in a nice and reassuring way, like a weighted blanket. It felt like you were being pulled physically closer to the Master. Yet his hand never strayed from your hair. Each stroke through your hair brought you deeper and more pleasantly under his control. You never wanted to leave. You wanted to stay nice, obedient, and loved under his control. Slowly he started to pull away. Your mind chased after him. You didn't want him to leave your mind! 

"Shh, shhh. It's alright my darling, I'm still here."

Your mind started to register the Master's words the moment you registered that you had been whimpering.

"Master?" 

You were dazed and slightly confused. Then as the last tendrils of his mind left yours he sent a surge of pleasure into your mind. Making your body fall with limp for a few moments with the love and comfort projected into your mind. There was a small kiss pressed reverently to your forehead as your senses returned.

"There you are, my dear. Return to me now, nice and gently. There we go."

Slowly your mind felt "normal" again.

"You should get some rest, my dear."

"I'm-" you had been about to protest when your exhaustion caught up with you. "I'm really tired."

"It's to be expected. I was a bit careless and forgot to consider how little experience you have with telepathy. Your mind is tired from trying to chase after mine but after you get some sleep you will be perfectly fine."

A blanket was pulled over you to tuck you in as you shifted a small amount to get into a comfortable sleeping position clinging to the Master.

"Rest assured that I'll be right here when you wake up, my darling. Sleep well."

Those were the last words you heard, softly spoken, as you let sleep claim you.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Isabelle Huppert: The Most Dangerous Actress in European Cinema

Etre actrice, c’est avant tout faire l’apprentissage de sa liberté.

- Isabelle Huppert

At 66 years old, Isabelle Huppert has had a long, celebrated career and is regarded in the highest echelon of French actors. Among actresses, Isabelle Huppert holds the record for César Award nominations (France’s Oscar award), with a whopping sixteen. She has also had twenty of her films in competition at Cannes, more than any other actress. And she is among just four actresses who have won the Best Actress prize at Cannes twice.

Not a bad track record.

Though she has appeared in a few American productions over the years, including “Heaven’s Gate” (1980), “The Bedroom Window” (1987) and “I Heart Huckabees” (2004), her best films have all been European.

Extraordinary women marked by tragedy and surrounded by mystery — these are Huppert's trademark cinematic roles. The films of Isabelle Huppert tend to be filled with sociopaths, self-mutilators, and murderers.

There was the jealous postmaster in “La Cérémonie,” the gun-toting young bride in “Coup de Torchon,” and the prostitute who poisons her family in “Violette Nozière. “The Piano Teacher,” “Elle” and “Greta” would make a crazy triple feature. Overall Isabelle Huppert, one of the iconic dames of French cinema, has garnered a reputation for being cold and steely. The French actress, now in her mid-60s, consistently chooses roles that are morally complex and sometimes hard to watch. And yet we can’t bring ourselves to look away.

Susan Sontag, who once called Huppert “a total artist,” said she had never met “an actor more intelligent, or a person more intelligent among actors.”

Huppert has been called France’s Meryl Streep for her technical skill, but for all her shape-shifting, Streep’s strongest women have never gone so dark as the roles Huppert has played.

Huppert expresses the moods and mental state of her characters with precision and great sensitivity. Her seemingly expressionless face and sparing facial expressions have become something of a trademark.

Fiction has a tendency to inflate things, she said once in an interview with The Financial Times in July 2017. "But when I look at people on the street, I find that most of them are pretty empty in their eyes. I have to do even less." To observe, she has been taught, you have to take away, not add something.

Isabelle was the youngest of five children, born in Paris to an engineer father and a mother who taught English. Her mother is credited with spotting her talent early on, and encouraging her to develop it. She was already well on her way as a teenager, getting acting jobs while studying at the National Conservatory of Dramatic Art in Paris.

Huppert’s résumé is remarkable over five decades: Just over 140 films since her debut in 1972, for many of cinema’s most audacious visionaries, including Claude Chabrol, Claire Denis, Curtis Hanson, Hal Hartley and François Ozon.

In “Things to Come,” a wistful, funny drama by the French director Mia Hansen-Love. She plays Nathalie, a Parisian philosophy teacher whose husband leaves her for a younger woman, whose mother dies, whose publisher won’t reissue her book — and yet, who finds unexpected freedom in all of these losses. Nathalie heads toward the light and Michèle toward the dark, but both roles showcase Huppert’s great ability to derive power from vulnerability.

What directors loved about Huppert — and she prides herself on being an auteur’s actor — was her ability to convey moral complexity in the most unique ways.

Working with such auteur directors, Huppert can inhabit extreme characters — "survivors who can be victims and rebels simultaneously," says the actress. "My films give these women a voice. Because even though they live on the edges of society, they are there: women who live brutal lives. It's a brutality that they themselves never sought out," Huppert told Zeit Magazine.

Paul Verhoeven who directed her in “Elle” described Huppert as a “pure Brechtian actor,” in that she puts distance between herself and the audience, without trying to seduce it or seek its sympathy. 

The actress is notorious for her illegibility - her almost Bressonian lack of expression, and the profound unrest she’s able to convey from behind the stillness of her freckled resting face. Pauline Kael, the famous film critic, once complained that “when [Huppert] has an orgasm, it barely ruffles her blank surface.” If Kael had lived to see “Abuse of Weakness,” “Elle,” or “I Heart Huckabees,” perhaps she would have come to appreciate how the stillness of Huppert’s unbeatable poker face allows her to normalize even the strangest and most perverse of characters; to make it seem as though any of their behaviors, no matter how unusual or demented, are as natural to them as we are to ourselves.

It’s a quality that European directors and audiences have embraced, but which can seem more foreign to Americans. Huppert loves American cinema, but she also knows her sensibility is distinctly French.

Huppert is known for her privacy and reserve - she generally doesn’t talk to the press about anything other than her films - and if there’s a connection between her autobiography and the roles she chooses, that’s something that only she knows.

Aware of her own enigmatic appeal, she has no qualms about exploiting it. She has even less desire to charm, although her formidable impassivity sometimes betrays a hint of vulnerability. Not that she will let the viewer get too close, however, as she is forever intent on remaining “more like a question mark than a statement”.

Isabelle Huppert is not just courageous when it comes to choosing film roles and artistic collaborators. She is fearless, and such is her integrity that we trust her instincts and follow wherever she leads. That’s what makes her the most dangerous actress of our time.

Below is a top ten list of Isabelle Huppert films. They are not in order nor are they her very best. There are simply too many films in her body of work that would deserve equal consideration. Instead the list is made up of films that given an introduction to her wide ranging talents.

1. The Lace Maker 1977

Isabelle Huppert won the most promising newcomer award for her graceful, guileless performance as Pomme in Claude Goretta’s masterly adaptation of a Pascal Lainé novel, which took its title from a Vermeer painting. Whether doing her chores at a Parisian beauty salon, playing blindman’s buff on a Cabourg clifftop with dashing Sorbonne student Yves Beneyton, trying to eat an apple without disturbing his reading or choking over dinner with his snooty parents, Huppert is mesmerising.

2. Violette Nozière 1978

The first of her seven collaborations with Claude Chabrol earned Huppert the best actress prize at Cannes. She was 25 when she played the demure schoolgirl who shocked 1930s Paris when details of her double life as a prostitute emerged following the poisoning of her father. Violette claimed he had abused her, but Chabrol thinks otherwise and exploits Huppert’s genius for switching between fragility and cruelty to counter the surrealist myth that the teenage parricide was an anti-bourgeois icon.

Huppert embodies this character that’s chiefly concerned with finding love. She walks the streets at night, characteristically promiscuous, but don’t call her a prostitute. She’d refute. Throughout the film, she gives more money to the men then vice versa. At night, when she leaves her quiet bourgeois home, and finds a man to accompany her, she looks unusually bothered. The film is sometimes maddeningly ambiguous but perhaps that’s the point - Chabrol and Huppert want us to feel mixed about her.

Violette is a woman with an air of mystery around her. She’s precocious but not as clever as she thinks. Huppert gazes and kisses her own mirror reflection. She writes fictional love letters to herself as well. Huppert quietly stresses the motivation behind the character: desperate to find someone to love, or else she’ll have to love herself. Except, she can’t even love herself because she feels stifled by her home life. And as ever with narcissism, there are dangerous consequences.

3. La Cérémonie 1995

“Chabrol only ever cast me as fairly ordinary characters,” Huppert once revealed. “They just have rather particular destinies.” While she would go on to embody Chabrolian womanhood (“not victims, not fighters, somewhere in between”) in Rien ne va plus (1997), Merci pour le chocolat (2000) and Comedy of Power (2006), she gave her finest performance for him in this seething adaptation of Ruth Rendell’s A Judgement in Stone.

An upper-class family warns their meek maid (Sandrine Bonnaire) about the local mail lady, Jeanne (Isabelle Huppert). They become friends regardless. Huppert plays Jeanne as kooky, comic, and rebellious. We gradually find out more cryptic background on her character, which gives her spirited attitude a darker edge. She’s either heartbroken or heartless. Huppert portrays a character with so many contradictory traits without ever making it feel false.

Huppert performs the role cunningly. Jeanne is energised like a child, but she’s smart enough to know how to win over the maid. She’s a little silly - when she enters the family’s home while they’re away, she touches everything. Huppert balances all of this next to the near-mute Bonnaire, both slowly exacting their revenge against the upper class. Chabrol’s trademark: clash of the classes.

Huppert thoroughly deserved her first César.

In 2014, Huppert performed Jean Genet’s play The Maids with Cate Blanchett. The play was inspired, as was La Cérémonie, on the same true-story about the Papin sisters.

4. The Piano Teacher 2001

The Piano Teacher is an elegantly made film about the deranged endeavors of love. Huppert plays a buttoned-up music instructor, Erika, who attracts the eyes of an unassuming man half her age. She still lives with her mother and there’s a danger that lurks behind her carefully placed gaze. She’s been sexually repressed for such a long time; her repression and self-hatred has slowly evolved into masochism. It drives her to haunt peep shows, spy on copulating couples and mutilate her own genitals. This disturbing film really made an impact world wide. 

Nobody said this film was an easy watch!

Haneke gives the spectator all the intricacies of the concept of perversion inserted in Huppert’s character of Erika, a successful piano teacher and an apparently impeccable social life. Well, that’s what Erika keeps on the surface.

Huppert declared the second of her four collaborations with Haneke to be the film she had long been searching for.

5. 8 Women 2002

There’s no validity in the truism that Huppert doesn’t do comedy. In fact she proved she could both dance and sing (the plaintive ‘Message personnel’ is a career highlight) in François Ozon’s chic 1950s musical whodunit. Sporting a tight bun, a buttoned-up twin-set, pursed red lips and butterfly spectacles, Huppert invokes the spirit of legendary farceur Louis de Funès as Catherine Deneuve’s argumentative sister. She gives an indelible display of neurotic, spinsterly bitchiness that is simultaneously piteous and hilarious.

6. Elle 2016

A successful woman enters a real ordeal after being raped by a stranger in her home. Powerful, ‘Elle’ unravels all the nuances of a character’s life inserted into a completely incongruous personal, social and psychological reality. Here, the character will demonstrate how her attitude towards the world follows a sociopathic pattern of acting, despising any form of emotional attachment and using other individuals solely to satisfy her most primitive instincts. The film earned her an Oscar nod for Best Actress, which was fabulous but also made me wonder what took so long. Certainly she’s turned out enough superb performances over her nearly five decade career to have earned this recognition sooner.

7. Coup de Torchon 1981

Having survived a seven-month stint in Montana for Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate(1980), Huppert ventured to Saint-Louis in Senegal for Bertrand Tavernier’s Oscar-nominated transposition of Jim Thompson’s pulp novel, Pop. 1280, from a small Texan town in the 1910s to west Africa on the eve of the Second World War. Although Pierre-William Glenn’s sun-scorched Steadicam imagery seems antithetical, this is a darkly droll noir that sees Huppert in an unusually skittish mood, as the abused colonial wife who forges an unlikely alliance with Philippe Noiret’s pathetic rogue police chief, who is humiliated by everyone around him, and suddenly wants a clean slate in life - but resorts to drastic means to do so.

8. Merci pour le chocolat 2000

The film follows the nuances of a French upper class family, exploring the destructive ways in which each member acts on the world. Directed by Claude Chabrol, ‘Merci pour le Chocolat’ is an interesting film, bringing a more cadenced plot that values studying each meander of the behavior of its central characters.

The movie is set in Lausanne, and that Swiss location, having an ambient sense of buttoned-up severity and menace, is an appropriate setting with a Nabokovian mien for this horrid tale of sociopathy.

Huppert dominates the film with the slightly frigid poise of a great dancer who has retired to become an exacting teacher. She plays Mika, a woman who presides wearily and almost negligently over the prosperous chocolate business built up by her late father. But however disengaged she is in the boardroom, in the kitchen she loves chocolate with a passion - concocting various types of drinking chocolate, using subtly differing recipes, with fanatical and murderous care.

There is something fascinating about Huppert's face here. In repose, it has a kind of unsettling serenity, the serenity of a cunning and covert predator who has already decided on an unspeakable course of action.

9. La Séparation 1994

Isabelle Huppert and Daniel Auteuil play a couple on the verge of a separation. The relationship’s mainstay is their child, one-year-old Loulou. Autueil gets most of the film’s focus, but he’s essentially a sitting duck, nervously shifting between passive-aggressive contempt and hopeful endearment, as he prepares for the outcome of his girlfriend’s infidelity. He says, “Never two without three.” This could be the quote-totem of the film.

The director smartly leaves the interloping lover out of the film (he’s never seen or even named). Instead, we study Auteuil’s growing impatience and Huppert’s pivotal decision. She adds a lot of depth to a character that could’ve just been the unsympathetic partner of the cuckold.

Huppert gives her character integrity and even though she’s ostensibly guilty, she never comes off as purely selfish. She’s troubled, as well, by their situation - we sense her detachment not due to ego but because she’s boggled in trying to assess the right mode of conduct. Huppert and Auteuil have great chemistry, changing gears effortlessly between vitriol and affection.

Huppert’s distinctive talent for suppressing suffering is readily evident in her slowly disintegrating relationship with Daniel Auteuil, as Huppert imparts chilling intimacy to a withdrawn hand, an unanswering gaze, a treacherous silence and a careless word in conveying the pain of falling out of love.

10. Madame Bovary 1991

Not her greatest film but certainly one of the most accessible for anyone not familiar with the talents of Huppert. Based on Gustave Flaubert’s fabulous novel, the film brings the exacerbated trajectory of a young girl who has a highly romanticised view of the world and craves beauty, wealth, passion, as well as high society. It is the disparity between these romantic ideals and the realities of her country life that drive most of the novel, leading her into two affairs and to accrue an insurmountable amount of debt that eventually leads to her suicide.

This adaptation of ‘Madame Bovary’ is perhaps the best of any adaptation to date. Claude Chabrol manages to capture even the most emblematic nuances of Flaubert’s book, elevating a unique atmosphere for the unfolding of scenes. 

However, the main point of distinction between this work and the others is the presence of Isabelle Huppert as protagonist, delivering a powerful and visceral performance from the first to the last scene.

[life-rewritten]

The Gifted Graduation: Reuniting with Channon (NON)

Pang and his two  very conflicting and dark paths

Last month I said I was planning to write heaps of essays regarding the show the gifted graduation, in the end, I've just sat back and kept my theories and opinions to my self as this season started in a way I was not expecting, each time I planned to write an essay like who was the impostor, for example, it got revealed the next episode(Korn) and I couldn't find enough words and need to write it out entirely. After episode 6 though, Gifted has made me lose it, and if I don't try to break down all that's in my mind, I don't think I'll fully recover. Warning spoilers for both The Gifted and The Gifted Graduation so far. Please let us discuss this show more, for a while on Tumblr the tags were silent but I hope after this episode people run and become obsessed with this masterpiece. Also since it's spooky season Gifted and its scary themes and ideas acts a perfect Halloween show to focus on. Honestly, I'm hoping this show is the next show I focus on analysing the most.  Okay, let's break down Pang and his character arc/ paths he could take this towards the end of this season.  

Reconvening With Non

The first thing I noticed about the scene when Pang reunites with Channon is this sense of foreboding and also a sense of a  pseudo'fatherly-son' vibe from them. From season one Channon's presence has been made known as something that motivated Pang to choose good, and trust in the future, and also his story was the reason why Pang got stronger and decided to fight the system. Pang and Non have this energy around them because Pang looks up to him so much for his sheer will, kindness and heart, but also Pang was Channon's mirror/shadow character in season 1;

He also formed a close friendship with someone who he wanted to protect and understood why Channon made the decisions he made.

He also wanted to fight the system and managed to lose his memories and lose to the director. 

He again got betrayed by his friends and Pom at the end of season 1 the way Pom was forced to betray Channon.

 Like Non, he was meant to return back to not knowing anything and having the secrets buried of the school, he was meant to be forgotten and hidden. However, unlike Pom, Wave trusted Pang more than wanting to save his potential and strived to get his memories back and have him return to the gifted.  So both Pang and Channon have both mirrored arcs where Pang represents a younger version of the latter and also foreshadows the way his psyche and character mindset is changing, growing but also could be degenerating. Before I talk about this, even more, let's focus on the other mirror character for Pang which points and alludes to another path he could take.

War With The Director and Himself

This is another reason for why I got weird vibes from the reuniting scene with Pang and Channon. I felt like I had to stay on my toes because we've done this before; trusting someone or underestimating someone as not being more vital than they are. In season 1 Pang and I failed to recognise what the director was in that season, it was clear he was the villain, but it also felt like he understood Pang the most and I couldn't for the sake of me figure out why. Until the reveal that he is an evolved version of Pang if Pang chose to succumb to using his potential for evil. It was terrifying the truth was there all along;  he knew who Pang was, he learned about Pang's powers because he had the same.

The director proceeded like he did with Channon to belittle his beliefs about equality and break him down one by on;  first by showing both of them how easy it is to be betrayed by their peers/and closest friends (Pom and Wave who did not want to lose their potential or suffer consequences because of them,), second by making them see they've lost and laughed in their face at their failed plans and third to degrade them down even further by returning them back to their starting position where they were unknown and not crucial (by erasing their memories).  

The director is cruel, but his plans fail for both of these two as revealed in episode 6.  Non had his memories retrieved but could do nothing and was left in the shadows being afraid of the director whilst working as an IT for the ministry (I call bullshit on this btw) and Pang's memory was revived by the help of his friends and Wave who believed in his vision (well some of them didn't as we see in episode 6). Season 2 keeps repeating the same motif and idea of Pang pushing down his powers, so he doesn't turn into someone like the director, he doesn't want to be evil or manipulative he wants to be a fair leadership.

Pang's Struggle For Control

Season 2, however, seems to keep pushing Pang in the middle of this two paths, it's either he realises there's no way to survive and becomes like the director to return things back to normal, or he ends up losing the game and being pushed aside and haunted as a failure like Non.

The fight to win and have an equal system seems more impossible if Pang doesn't choose to take the director's path. The lack of unity and togetherness in his own team and the losses that have been acquired by episode 6, could drive him even further to have to submit to his potential and use it the way he's been trying to avoid.

We see hints of chaos still on the way;  his trauma for losing and causing the deaths of his peers for his cause, the resentment for his leadership being questioned and replaced by Punn who seems slowly tired of being under him, and the lack of trust for both his peers and the adults. He may gradually adopt the director's mindset that equality is impossible, and being gifted is the only way to achieve victory and get what he wants in this environment. He may even use his powers to make people forget everything and go back to the start, just like how the director does whenever chaos threatens the school.

Pang vs Non

Non's return is interesting to me, he seems good, and he appears righteous but broken. It's easy to feel pity for him and be misled by his words. It's the same way we were misled by the director and thinking he knew nothing about Pang's plans in season 1, we underestimated him because we felt he had no vision. Non is like that, another mirror character that can be revealed to be evil all along, the master manipulator.

Well, why not? He's been haunted and traumatised for ten years since he got his memories back, probably manipulated and told wrong ideologies by the ministry head who wants to destroy the director and this can easily lead him to be filled with vengeance and anger and resentment, and a wish to get revenge.

Not only that he went to the one person who was also feeling just as resentful about the gifted system (he says it was an accident, but I don't believe that for one bit), his speech about him being a failure is sad. It pushes the audience to want to root for him, but it makes no sense how the ministry just hired him to become an IT man and be left in the shadows, only for him to return because he did not want to have the virus spread around and used on the director. No he implanted that idea in Korn, he pushed Korn by only giving him small details about the drug and what it does, he also seems to have little knowing looks in this episode; times where he looks a bit more menacing, more sly, more cunning.  I focused on his facial expression during the confrontation with Korn, and it seemed too knowing, too secretive, to resentful.

Non is not someone who can easily be pushed away not after what happened to him in Season 1, not whilst Pom gets to run around being a teacher in the school and misleading more students to being hurt, not whilst the director continues to be director in the school and hide him as a secret, not whilst the gifted programme is still causing chaos and disasters that aren't right. His sense of justice is probably more than his fear of the director. His reason for not wanting to come back makes no sense to me, it feels off.  But that's why him being the villain of the show has even more potential, to hurt us just like the director's final plot twist in season 1, someone who we underestimated because we believed he was on our side, he was right and just, and he had let things go.

That's the same as Pang, we see him as someone trying so hard to not shift from his aim and path, someone who idealistically believes in equality and winning the war but are we sure he'll stay that way. He could follow this path. Instead, becoming the resentful failure who feels exhausted from failing and having his aims ruined, he is also mentally pushed to the brim just like Non, he is also being shown futility at every try, and he is being betrayed just like Non.

Pawns  Of The Ministry  

Pang joining the ministry to help defeat the director is just probably mirroring Non's real path, He's probably been told the same truths revealed to Non when he first got founded by them.

To me the ministry is our main villain this season, with opposite ideologies to the director, but how are we so sure that the head isn't on the other side of the spectrum to far, what if he harbours hatred for the gifted programme so much because he also wants vengeance, what if he wants to again do what the director wanted but even more harshly or crueller. It's one of the two.

The ministry is another form of representation of leadership from the adults, and we know in this show, the adults are not to be trusted, deceitful and cruel and too set in their own ways. Willing to sacrifice anything for their cause. Pang joining them seems good right now, but I bet Non is also one of them. He's now an adult just like Pom remember we trusted Pom in season 1 we thought he was good, only for him to indeed be weak and submissive to the director's control. Non probably is the same as Pom was, someone who wants to be good but is perhaps now instead, under the ministry's control.

The Ideology Of The Ministry  

It's a war of politics between these two ideologies and leadership from adults, and we're about to see it play out with Pang as a pawn. That's why I believe he will snap towards the end and stop being just a pawn, he will probably realise that he needs control and that's why he's most likely to mould into the mixture of these two characters he represents, and to be honest that's not a good thing. Luckily he has Wave by his side, that's one thing we can count on is Wave to bring Pang away from these two paths the way Pang brought him out from his own downward spiral in season 1. Both help the other and push the other to be better, to breath and calm down, to trust in the positives. Wave is going to do that for Pang let's hope it's not just too late when he does.

[onemysticwriter]

Contest One Shot - Jumin Han x Lonnie

A/N: My dear joy1579 thank you very much for participating in my contest. You were the lucky winner and I wrote your one shot. I hope, that you’ll like it! Congratulations again 🥰🎉

I hope this is okay to read since I can’t log in on tumblr at my computer right now and it looks different on mobile. So if there’s any problem, please contact me! Also, please excuse grammatical errors and some „weird“ sentences as I don’t speak English as my first language. Thank you ❤️

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hopefully, I won’t bother him at work…he’s just always so busy.” Lonnie thought to herself as she walked down the streets heading towards the big C&R tower. She was humming her favorite song quietly as she thought about her husband.

Ah, yes…her husband was no other than the famous director Jumin Han. In only eleven days she managed to become a part of the RFA charity organization, help Jumin overcome one of his biggest crises and fall in love with the black-haired man.

Her life went from a “commoner”, as he would always say, to one of the richest people in South Korea. However, she never married him for his fame or his money. Jumin just was everything she always wanted in a man. He was sensitive, supportive, and overly protective of Lonnie. She just was his queen, his everything.

Together they lived in his luxurious penthouse downtown with his cat Elizabeth 3rd. Although they were already married for five years now, there was just never the right time to really start a family, so Elizabeth 3rd quickly acted as a compensation for Lonnie. Yes, she genuinely loved her life and her husband.

“Miss, watch out!” A cry interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to reality as a stranger pulled her away from the street and back to the sidewalk. She watched with wide eyes as a car drove fast over the spot where she was just a second ago. “Th-thank you. That…would’ve ended badly. I-I’m just always so clumsy. Sorry for the inconvenience!” She apologized to the man with white hair with a small bow. “Don’t worry about it. Just watch yourself. You’ll never know what dangers lurk around you.” He said with a small mischievous grin as he walked away. “That…was even more strange.” Lonnie thought to herself. “Gosh, I have to stop daydreaming. Maybe I should’ve asked Driver Kim to get me here. If Jumin finds out about this I won’t leave the penthouse for a while.” Just with that thought in mind she arrived at the huge building. Of course, she had a special ID-card and could come and go as she liked so she wouldn’t have to worry about getting in.

However, as she walked past a small alley next to the tower, she heard a few whimpers. “What was that?” Lonnie whispered and looked around for the source of the sound. Her gaze fell upon a small box right at the entrance of the alley with two small kittens in it and a sign that said, “for free”. “Oh no, who in the world would give away such cuties like you two?” She cooed as she picked up the box. The little ones immediately meowed at her and looked at her with big shiny eyes.

One of them was a calico and had mostly white fur with black and gold spots all over its body and had calming blue eyes while the other one was pitch black and had bright green eyes. They were just beautiful. “I can’t leave them here…god, I hope Jumin won’t mind me bringing them in his office.” Lonnie mumbled as she closed the box carefully and entered the C&R building.

When she arrived at the highest floor, she walked to the desk where Jumins assistant Jaehee Kang was working. Jaehee seemed to be very concentrated as she didn’t notice her boss’s wife standing right in front of her. With a smile Lonnie put down the box and cleared her throat. “Jaehee? May I interrupt you for a moment?” She said politely with a smile on her face.

“Huh? Oh, Mrs. Han! I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there!” She explained as she stood up to give her a little bow. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. And we talked about that. Call me Lonnie, just like before I married Jumin.” Lonnie laughed and winked at her playfully. “Yes, I know. However, these are Mr. Han’s orders and if it’s alright with you I will call you Mrs. Han here at work.” Lonnie sighed and nodded as she tried to be understanding of her husband. He had to maintain an image after all. “Alright, I see it can’t be helped. Uhm…do you know if Jumin is in his office? It’s his lunch break now and I wanted to visit him.”

Jaehee’s gaze went to her time schedule to check. “He’s at a meeting right now, but it should end soon. If you want, you can wait for him in his office? I’ll inform him that you’re waiting for him.” “Oh, no need to. If he’s in a meeting, we shouldn’t interrupt it just because I want to eat lunch with him. I’ll just wait in there. Thanks for your help. And…” Lonnie said as she digged in her bag to bring out a lunch box. “You shouldn’t be skipping lunch either, Jaehee. I hope that you’ll enjoy it.” She could see Jaehee’s eyes grow wide as she accepted the box gratefully. This wasn’t the first time Lonnie had brought lunch not only for Jumin and her but for his assistant as well as she knew how hard her job was. With a smile Lonnie picked up the box with the kittens again, which luckily went unnoticed by anyone, and walked into her husband’s office to prepare everything for his break.

After a short while Jumin walked in and looked at Lonnie with a surprised expression as he closed the door. “Lonnie? What are you doing here? I didn’t know you would come today.” He said as he walked up to her to greet her with a kiss. Her smile grew as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, I wanted to surprise you…so…surprise?” Jumin chuckled a bit as he placed another kiss on her forehead.

“You did surprise me apparently. But know I know why Assistant Kang was humming while she ate. You also brought her food again, am I right?” He asked with a small smile on his lips. Even though he didn’t understand her motivation for cooking herself and for others he loved how caring and even motherly Lonnie was. She was simply perfect.

“Yes, I couldn’t help it. She really does a great job- ““For which I pay her very well.” “Yes, however you should always be grateful to have her as your assistant and show her from time to time.” Lonnie quickly replied to him as she got their food out of her bag. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” He told her as his gaze went to the slightly moving box. “Dear? What do you have in there? Don’t tell me you brought Elizabeth 3rd in that shady box.”

Jumin’s facial expression changed from curious to worried. “No, of course I didn’t. But…I wanted to talk about that…” Lonnie said as she opened the box for him. The kittens blinked at the sudden light and meowed at them tiredly. “I found them in a small alley next to this building. I know you don’t like stray cats, but these are so tiny, and I can’t- “” We’ll keep them.” Lonnie stopped for a moment and blinked. Did…he just approved of them that quickly? “W-wait…are you sure? But I thought…”

He smiled as he picked up the black kitten to pet it. “Yes, I know what I said, but look at them. These are purebred Persian cats. Even in black and calico which is very unlikely. Those are rarities and not simple stray cats.” He explained to her as he put back the kitten to pick up the other to also take a better look at it.

Lonnie let out a squeal of excitement and hugged Jumin tightly. “Hey, slowly…I still got the little fella in my hands.” He chuckled. “You know what? After our lunch you’ll go home with them and I’ll call Elizabeth 3rd’s vet so that he can check if they’re healthy.” “That is a great idea! Thank you so much, honey! Oh, I know that this will work out perfectly! You’ll see.” Lonnie grinned and kissed Jumin deeply. “My, my, dear wife. Not in front of those innocent eyes…”

Later that day Lonnie went back to their penthouse with the kittens. Just in case they were sick she put Elizabeth 3rd in a different room before she could meet the kittens. The vet arrived just like Jumin ordered and determined the perfect health of both kittens. As it turned out, the black cat was a male and the calico was a female. Now they just needed names for them.

Soon after the vet left the penthouse Jumin came home from work to see his beautiful wife sitting on the couch with their new kittens and Elizabeth 3rd. The white cat purred happily as she watched the two play with her fluffy tail. “Jumin…welcome home, darling.” Lonnie greeted her husband like everyday with a kiss. “Thank you. I see that the three of them get along?” He asked as he watched the scene with a smile.

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Elizabeth 3rd immediately adopted them, and she just loves to watch them play with each other. I think she acts as their new mother.” Lonnie smiled as well. “I’m glad to hear that.” The director said as he crouched down to pet Elizabeth 3rd. “Oh, and the vet just left earlier. The kittens are healthy and the black one is male and the other is female. However, we’re supposed to bottle feed them as Elizabeth 3rd won’t produce any milk for them. I just warmed up two bottles. Do you want to help me?” She asked. Jumin smiled and picked up the black cat. “Of course, I will.”

Together they sat down on the sofa and fed the small fur balls who eagerly drank the milk. “Am…am I doing this right?” Jumin suddenly asked. His wife looked at him with a questioning expression. “Yes, of course. You’re doing this perfectly, honey. Why do you ask?” “Well…” He began to mumble and then looked straight into her eyes.

“I think I want to have a child with you.”