#but just know if i was ever given the opportunity i’d absolutely try to sweet you off your feet and give you everything you deserve and more

[your-average-gay-dork]

Pls don’t tell me you can see a future with me unless you absolutely mean it. Don’t tell me unless you feel that shit in your chest.

[tfemgothwife]

awww, poor little thing you are, aren’t you? tboy butch here, really enjoy what you post and rb. you’d be suchhh a good little toy for me to fuck into constantly, whether when i get home from work and am pent up or when im laying around the house and get horny (which is most of the time) . my big strap would get so accustomed to your ass and you’d get so used to getting your prostate absolutely hammered that you’d never want to think about being fucked by anyone or anything else! i could pounce on you whenever i want, lock you in a bitchsuit or just take you as you are, hold the key to your pleasure on me at all times on my carabiner whether its for a collar, chastity cage, etc.

i know whores like you love latex, so i encourage you to go ahead and get some nice latex garments for me to come home and see you in. You’d tell me about alll the wet perverted dreams and thoughts you have about me and I’d reward you by degrading you

When I get home from work I’d hear you eagerly come to greet me. I’d pull you by the waist for a kiss and feel myself get hard immediately, and you could see some sweat trickling from my forehead and above my upper lip near my t-stache. If I was really feeling pent up, I’d push you down and take you right then and there. But, on a more typical night, you’d lower yourself to kiss my boots and kneel at my feet while I put my hand in your hair, nice and soft for me. Your nipples are perking up more, and I’ll be able to see this immediately, because why would you need to wear a bra with your husband around? That’s ridiculous!

When you come back up to your feet, I make sure to pull up the bottom of your shirt and expose your tits to me like it’s routine, because it is, and I’d give you a knowing grin knowing I’d be getting exactly what i want tonight. I’d slap them hard and hear you moan and your legs quiver, but before you could start your begging i pull your shirt back down.

Maybe I’d wait just to eat what you cooked me for dinner, just snacking while im at work to keep myself satiated. everyone at work would tell me I’m such a good husband and that it was so sweet you’d always cook for me. what i’d fail to mention, though, is that along with your delicious cooking, i got to feel you under me unzipping my jeans and sucking me off as i lay back and moan in relief after a long day. I’d love getting to take out my horniness and aggression that builds and builds, no longer having to hide it, using you as free use meat whenever I want.

You’d give me a nice massage with relaxing music and I’d let out satisfied moans and groans that would make your chest flutter and your thighs shut to try and hide that you were already getting wet. You’d revel in my noises and, of course, my scent, my beautiful natural musk that just turns your brain off and makes you into nothing but a servant as you desperately need to lap me up: my chest, my pits, my bush, my cock, anywhere. I won’t give it to you, yet, you always forget that not everyone is an easy slut like you - I’m certainly not

I’d want your cock in me often so I could feel full, and you’d nearly faint from the feeling of my warmth as I tighten around you and milk you. I’d jerk off onto your tits often. I’d use knotted dildos and force them all the way inside you and tell you to take me. I’d have so many opportunities to remind you what a pervert you’ve given yourself to: in the shower, where we’ll bathe together and i’ll get your privates and tits all nice and soapy, god, whore, you’re getting me all worked up thinking about what i deserve, the life that should be ours, mine, along with ownership of that body of yours.

But I just can’t help it. It’s rare to find someone who knows what her body was made for, what her purpose is, Come on baby, let me abuse you. Let me reward you for reminding your transfem friends and sisters how to serve. For being so good. My fingers could reach farther into your holes than you could ever imagine . Maybe I’ll even wear my special cologne for you?

- 🐗

Ohh my god please

I'd give you any sort of pleasure that I can. I want to be a good wife for you. You deserve a pretty girl who you can show off to your friends and use as stress relief. You could teach me my purpose of serving boys like you, and I'll be sure to follow all of your rules. That's what trans girls are here for after all!! 💖💖

[elegantmadness]

Final Fantasy XVI RP

I just finished the game a couple of days ago and I'm obsessed. I need to write in this universe!

So, without further ado... have some info!

18+ writer with years of experience looking for another 18+ writer.

i don't shy away from dark or nsfw topics; not necessarily looking for nsfw/smut heavy threads by any means, but i can tell you right now i probably won't mesh well with someone who has to fade to black :c sorry.

i'll write over email, in gdocs, or via a discord server. i can't say i have much of a preference for any over the others; i'm also down for ooc over discord and the actual writing thread elsewhere. please note i DO NOT write here on tumblr.

given how recently the game came out and i finished it, i've not written for this fandom before. i certainly don't mind taking any constructive criticism if you think i've misrepresented/misconstrued a canon character.

i'm comfortable with canon/canon pairs and canon/oc ones of any genders/dynamics/orientations (m//, m/f, f//, trans + nb inclusive). if we can agree on a canon/canon pair, then i'm happy to leave it at that. if you'd like to go the canon/oc route, though, i do require us to double; like most everyone who's ever dabbled in fandom rp i won't be stuck writing the canon for the original without a little reciprocity.

i like long posts. how long is long, you ask? i like to stay at least around 3 paragraphs, though i can -- and do -- write more than that. all in all, i'm a mirror poster who enjoys fleshing out details and delving into characters' thoughts/feelings/motivations. my sweet spot is 4-6 paragraphs, but i'm more than willing to write novella/generally longer posts if you're game!

i don't do rapid-fire or one-liners or short, measly little single paragraphs. they make me sad and tend to indicate my partner's lack of interest or effort. that said, if your motivation is running dry and you need/want to stop, that's completely fine! honestly, if you ghost i won't chase after you, though i'll admit to a slight preference that you give me a chance to try and fix things up?

at the very least one post a week; i'd prefer around 3 a week, personally, but ofc irl stuff happens.

everything has to be in third person; absolutely no first or second. i default to past tense, but i'm perfectly fine with present if that's your preference!

beware spoilers below if you haven't finished the game!

you'll find the pairings i'm most interested in writing/am actively looking for as well as general ideas for plot/plot points below the cut!

so! i'm honestly not super sure about pairs, but i'm more than happy to talk them through with you? off the top of my head, i know i'd be interested in things like:

dion/joshua (it doesn't have to be in the terms of dion's perceived debt to joshua, but there's just such a nice familiarity there, especially after twinside and dion's drowning in guilt; maybe even bringing in memories of them meeting when they were younger)

hugo/benedikta (my favorite amoral duo who both just need to fuck off from dhalmekia and waloed and do whatever tf they want; also, hugo turning benedikta away from barnabas? his actual affection for her takes her by surprise; this dude doesn't actually just want to exploit and use her for his own ends? say whatttttt?)

dion/barnabas (i'm a terrible person; it's fine! :c but the whole dark v light theme? waloed v sanbreque? barnabas' whole crusade to kidnap bearers/dominants?)

benedikta/jill (mayhaps cid comes too late to save jill and benedikta absconds with her from the battlefield? i think they'd be able to relate to one another relatively well tbh, and plus i'd love to see jill a little more assertive/proactive)

cid/benedikta (purely platonic; i'd love to explore that dynamic, flesh out their background more; tbh, it'd probably be set in the background of an actual pair)

cid/barnabas (i’d loooooove the opportunity to explore their dynamic before cid up and left waloed; maybe cid even confided in barnabas at one point until barnabas’ loyalty to ultima comes out and cid feels betrayed? add benedikta into the mix and ooof. lots of drama potential, i think.)

clive/barnabas (especially in the context of clive having just lost to barnabas in a fight? won't master ultima be so pleased with you, mr warden of darkness? but then... wait. why won't you hand over mythos? clive somehow turning barnabas around? you love to see it)

clive/ultima (dark af and i'm not even sorry. but ultima...making it into clive's mind in a botched attempt to possess him? doesn't even need to be romantic or sexual, but just... a fucked up dynamic. ultima hitching a ride in the back of clive's consciousness? more than he already does?)

clive/joshua (shhhhhh. clive literally saying they've become one is just so darn platonic i can't even com pre hennnnnnd. i'd argue clive shows more emotion over joshua than anyone else in the game, and i'd be remiss in not exploring that further)

please note i have zero interest in writing clive/jill :c they're more of a brotp for me. sorry! i'd at least be willing to hear out other canon/canon pairs, but please don't be offended if i don't want to write them :c

i'd also be incredibly down for some canon/oc shenanigans, and ofc i'd happily double! gonna be super basic and ask for my partner to write clive for me tho; could absolutely be down for poly (cough with cid cough) but that's not necessary at all. also, ngl, i'd love to write a leviathan oc (for whom i already have a great deal of ideas...) i know, i know, the medicine girl is who everyone kinda suspects to be leviathan but, shhhhhhh ;o au for a reason, yeah? it's not confirmed anyway.

miscellaneous ideas

dominants v ultima (as it should have been imo; dominants protecting humanity, working together to try and save it instead of clive having to do it all basically alone)

more fallen lore? ngl, i was hit with such similarities from this game and ff12 i was half-convinced it was like, a thousand+ years post-ff12. i know it's not, but it could be interesting to bring in ff12 wrinkles into the fold? all the crysts and crystals and incorporeal beings directing humanity in the directions they want? plus AIRSHIPS. aetherfloods = jagd/myst? we don't have to go in the ff12 direction for more fallen lore, tho.

time-au a la: dominants returning to the time of the fallen/helping in the fight against ultima at dzemekys

some sort of magic that allows the dominants to retain information from previous hosts? warnings about ultima/crystals/the blight/etc?

people have compared ultima and jenova and... lbr. it would be incredibly interesting to see. ultima wants a host? too bad. jenova's cells have infected it; he can't direct it anymore. too bad every time he keeps trying jenova's still there.

these aren't all the plots i'd be interested in writing by any means, but, well. i think i've rambled on long enough. i hope i've managed to pique some interest, and if i have, feel free to reach out!

[cookie-run-kingdom-story]

Romance Kingdom! ~Sugar Sweet Destiny~ DAY 2

Y/N: Morning already! Let’s have a sweet day today.

Since I had received that anonymous confession and chocolate yesterday, I came to school with a completely different mindset.

What can I say? Somehow even a boring, peaceful day now felt exciting.

I no longer felt strange watching the other students get excited about possible confessions from secret admirers.

I even started to think that liking someone for their charms and cherishing them from afar was actually a very beautiful thing.

If only I had realized that sooner, perhaps I would not have been so bored at school.

Herbert Hoo: Oh, good morning, Y/N! Isn’t today just absolutely beautiful? Y/N: Good morning, Herbert. Oh, you have some sweat on your forehead. Come closer, I’ll wipe that for you. Herbert Hoo: Ah! Tha-thank you. Herbert Hoo: The after-school club promotion week starts today, so I was preparing stuff for that this morning. The gardening club is planning to show off some useful gardening tips. Herbert Hoo: Y/N, you haven’t joined a club yet, right? Y/N: That’s right. I couldn’t really figure out which one to pick. Herbert Hoo: Then this upcoming week is the perfect chance to find out! Herbert Hoo: Have a good look around. I’m sure there will be a club perfect for you Y/N… Herbert Hoo: If… you don’t mind, would you like to check out the gardening club as well?

A) Of course.

Y/N: Of course.

B) I’ll think about it.

Y/N: I’ll think about it.

Herbert Hoo: Alright. Herbert Hoo: Then I’ll see you later, Y/N!

Come to think of it, I’d forgotten all about the club promotion week.

Honestly, I had never signed up for a club because making new friends was so tiring, and I would rather go home and play games.

But now I felt a new urge to actively make friends.

This whole club experience might be a good opportunity for me! So, where should I start?

A) Should I try going out to the garden?

Thinking about clubs, the most passionate person I know came to mind. I trudged out to the garden and looked in between the trees.

Herbert Hoo: Ah, Y/N!

Look at him, he’s got dirt all over him… but it looks like he’s having fun.

Herbert Hoo: I’m glad to see you here. Are you here to join the gardening club?

A.A) No way, you know I’m terrible with plants.

Y/N: No way, you know I’m terrible with plants. Herbert Hoo: Ah… That’s right… I’m sorry, I must’ve misunderstood. Herbert Hoo: It would be great if you joined the gardening club but… What I’m trying to say is that dirt and plants are good for your health! A-and it’s exercise as well. Although the same goes for other clubs… Herbert Hoo: So, what I’m saying is… We have plants that are easy to care for as well! Would you like to at least… look around?

A.B) No, I just came to see you.

Y/N: No, I just came to see you. Herbert Hoo: Ah… Ah, I see! Ye- Yeah! Come on in! Herbert Hoo: But- Ah, I was just taking care of some weeds so I have grass and dirt all over, goodness… Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not glad to see you! Herbert Hoo: So, what I’m saying is… Would you like to take a look around? There are loads of plants I’ve looked after!

Herbert took my hand, and we walked around the garden together.

Herbert Hoo: That’s a marigold, those are white lilies… oh, and that’s a maple tree that you can harvest syrup from in the winter! Y/N: Maple syrup? Herbert Hoo: Ah, yes! Haven’t you had that on pancakes before? It’s harvested from maple trees! Herbert Hoo: In the gardening club, we also take our tea with a spoon of maple syrup. Would you like to try it? Y/N: Uh, yes please. How interesting…

The herbal tea I was given tasted sweet, almost like something I had before…

Y/N: Hm, this tastes kind of familiar… Herbert Hoo: O-Oh? Isn’t it the taste of the herbal tea I used to make you back in the day? Y/N: Ah, is it…? Well, it’s really tasty. Herbert Hoo: Good to hear! If you ever want a cup of tea, please come by. After all, you’re welcome anytime, Y/N.

B) I wonder where the most popular club is?

The most popular club is obviously… that place! I grabbed my bag and headed towards the gym, as if I were following Rachel there.

Beenis: Everyone’s already warmed up and practicing with such intensity. No wonder our school’s fencing club is famous nationwide. Fencing Club Senior: You there! Are you here to take a stab at fencing? We have a quick survey first, then I’ll teach you the basics over there. Y/N: Yes! I’m ready. Fencing Club Senior: First, why do you want to learn fencing?

B.A) I want to get stronger.

Y/N: I want to get stronger.

B.B) I want to make friends

Y/N: I want to make friends.

Fencing Club Senior: Why do you think fencing is the sport for you?

B.A) It's about honor, skills, and a fair fight.

Y/N: It's about honor, skills, and a fair fight.

B.B) It's about becoming the very best.

Y/N: It's about becoming the very best.

Fencing Club Senior: I see. So that's what you think, eh? Rachel Raspberry: I can take it from here!

Rachel appeared out of nowhere.

Y/N: Rachel! Rachel Raspberry: Came to take a look at the fencing club? Well, what do ya think? It's really something, isn't it?

The entire gym was filled with members of the fencing club. Bursts of shouts and effort, the swinging and thrusts of swords echoed throughout the place. Everyone's swords were so accurate, they could probably pierce through dust flying in the air.

Y/N: It's awesome! But I doubt I can ever be this good. Rachel Raspberry: It'll probably take you a 1,000 years to get on my level, haha!

Despite saying that, she told me to get changed. Once I got back, she showed me the basic grip and form. Before I knew it, we were facing each other as if we were about to partake in a match.

Rachel Raspberry: Listen up. You're just a newbie who doesn't know a parry from a riposte, but I'm gonna show you what the fencing club is made of. Rachel Raspberry: Watch and learn! Rachel Raspberry: Hyaah! Hup, hyaah! Fencing Club Classmate: Did you just see that? WOW! What finesse and speed! No wonder Rachel's the star of the fencing club. Rachel Raspberry: Your turn, Y/N! Try and hit me! Y/N: H-H-Here I go!

I swiped forward with everything I had… but Rachel was too quick. She blocked with a simple swish of her sword and immediately countered, straight for my belly.

Y/N: OOOF! Rachel Raspberry: So? Ready to admit it'll take you 1,000 years to get on my level?

B.A) I'll get there one day.

Y/N: I'll get there one day.

B.B) There's no way I'll catch up to you.

Y/N: There's no way I'll catch up to you.

Once we finished with the basics, Rachel took a lap around the gym, giving pointers to the other students before finding a secluded corner to practice on her own. I kept practicing the basics with some of the other newcomers. Time flew by without notice until someone blew a whistle and told everyone that we were done for the day. Everyone bustled about to leave and get changed, but Rachel just kept on practicing. At that moment, her sweaty yet determined face… glowed. There's no other way to describe it.

That turned out to be better than expected… I still got time to explore. Where to now?

C) I prefer solitude.

Y/N: School clubs… Come to think of it, I really didn’t want to join any. Making new friends always ends in sadness anyway… Y/N: I prefer being alone…

I kept walking through the empty halls until I found myself walking towards the back of the school… towards the dumpsters.

Y/N: Wha… Why did I…?!

Come to think of it, this place is really quiet. Tranquil, almost. But it’s only quiet because… Well… This part of the school belongs to me. The one who flunks every year. The son of some shady, scary corporation boss. The student whose name instills fear in the hearts of all students… Derek DaChoco!

Derek DaChoco: You again…?

Derek was sitting on the stairs, a crunched lollipop in his hand. From his expression, it seemed like he didn’t want to be disturbed.

C.A) You didn’t tell me how old you are

Y/N: You er… didn’t tell me how old you are.

Derek spat out the crunched lollipop onto the ground. I flinched a few steps back, only to bump into the punks from yesterday. Seemed like they belonged to Derek’s posse now.

Senior Class Bully 1: Hey, you there. Got some cash? Y/N: This is all I have… I was going to buy a new workbook… Senior Class Bully 2: Well, well. Thanks for sharing, kid. Now run along and go play nicely somewhere else. Y/N: …Right. Derek DaChoco: …… Y/N: Derek… DaChoco…

I gave Derek a desperate look, but he acted like he didn’t know me as he leaned against the wall. But I thought… I thought we had something. Seriously… Faith in humanity shattered.

~BAD ENDING~

C.B) Might as well stay for a bit.

Y/N: The school clubs are on the hunt for new members to reel in… None of them seem worth joining. Derek DaChoco: …?

Is that curiosity in his gaze? Was it something I said? I’m more used to the nonchalant, uncaring gazes from the other students, but there’s something childlike about these eyes…

Y/N: I… I don’t like making friends, getting close to someone. That special something… It turns out to be a lie and I just end up getting hurt is all.

Derek crunched his lollipop and let out a long sigh. His response, though, was different this time. Soft, almost like a whisper upon the breeze.

Derek DaChoco: I know how you feel. Y/N: Huh? Pardon? Derek DaChoco: School clubs. Heh… I used to be in the fencing club. My father was good with a sword too, and he… Well, he used to be proud of me. Derek DaChoco: I always won the sparring matches against the senior class. Yeah… They didn’t like losing to the unfriendliest freshman. Derek DaChoco: I became the fencing club’s main target, a stain on their reputation. They surrounded me. I was outnumbered. I didn’t stand a chance. Y/N: Oh… Derek DaChoco: Someone from the judo club asked me to join… But the same thing happened again. Y/N: But… So you just stood there? You didn’t fight back? Derek DaChoco: Back then? No… I used to think the club members were like family. I was naive, foolish. Y/N: Those bullies…! How dare they!

I noticed my fists were clenched, shaking with anger. But Derek just let out a soft chuckle and smiled.

Derek DaChoco: Heh… Y/N: Was that a laugh? Did you just laugh? You just laughed!

Just then, I recognized the voices of the bullies getting closer and closer. Derek’s faint smile vanished and he waved his hand as if he were chasing away a fly.

Derek DaChoco: It’s time for you to leave. I’m busy. Y/N: Er… OK, Derek. Be seeing you… Don’t er… get hurt, or anything.

Just as he walked past me, I swear I noticed a silent and subtle nod.

D) I’ll go around and look first.

Y/N: I'll go around and have a look first.

I decided to take a stroll around the school to see what sort of clubs might suit me. But…

Marcus Madeleine: Haha! It seems that no one in the varsity basketball team can block my shots!

Marcus Madeleine: Oh? A rose! Such a worthy flower of my radiance. It's for me, you say? Thank you!

Reading Club Fans: President Madeleine! We're holding an open poetry session in our book club! Will you join us? Marcus Madeleine: A poetry reading! MARVELOUS! I shall make sure to be there. Reading Club Fans: SQUEAL! Really? REALLY?! Thanks so much!

I swear… His hair is so bright that the color is almost burned into my retinas… I rubbed my eyes to get a hold of my bearings.

Y/N: I'm not hallucinating, am I? I swear that it seems like Marcus is a part of every club imaginable. Marcus Madeleine: HAHA! My genius and expertise are unparalleled! It'd be a shame to waste such brilliance on a single club! Y/N: EEP! Y-y-you heard that?

D.A) Well, it's true.

Y/N: Well, if only there were as many of you as there are clubs, our school would be perfect… Marcus Madeleine: …Hm? Marcus Madeleine: HAHAHA! Is that what you think? Then I must apologize, for there can only be one as unique and dashing as l!

That line must've hit a chord with someone because they immediately swooned and fainted.

Marcus Madeleine: I wish to visit your club as well. Tell me, Y/N, which club are you in? Y/N: Oh… I haven’t joined one yet. Marcus Madeleine: Yet another shame! Please do tell me later which one you've decided to join. In fact, come tell me while visiting the Student Council office!

And just like that… he left, waving his hand high up in the air like a movie star on the red carpet Naturally, a wave of students came crashing by, each of them screaming at Marcus and pleading for him to visit their clubs too.

D.B) What about your student council duties?

Y/N: Erm… Do you even have time for Student Council duties? Marcus Madeleine: O-o-of course I do!

Behind Marcus, I could subtly make out the Vice President shaking their head…

Marcus Madeleine: I'll have you know that I am utmost dutiful to my role as a student and as the council's president! Ahem, ahem! Marcus Madeleine: Speaking of students! Tell me, Y/N, which club are you in? Y/N: Oh, I haven't joined one yet, but I'm still looking! Marcus Madeleine: Splendid! You're the type whose heart yearns for the perfect match! Perhaps the Vice President can help you find that perfect club you seek. Marcus Madeleine: Do come and visit the Student Council office sometime! The Vice President welcomes such impromptu visits.

And just like that… he left. The Vice President gave me a silent nod and followed suit. I suddenly realized I was surrounded by Marcus's fan club. They remained silent, but their eyes practically screamed, "Don't you dare join our club or Marcus will never come visit."

Oh wow, it’s already this late? Maybe I can squeeze in time to visit one other place.

E) I should ask someone.

I should ask everyone else what clubs they joined.

Y/N: Hey, I wanted to ask you… Eeeek!! Lovesick Classmate: Huh? Is it about clubs? Are you interested in joining the astronomy club? So am I!!

The friend that looked at me with sparkling eyes was the same friend who had dragged me off to help them confess to Serena.

Y/N: No, just forget it- …Ahhhh!

Once again, I was dragged off somewhere. This time to the astronomy club.

The astronomy club was small but well-organized. The club room was decorated with endless astronomy-related items, like a model of the solar system, various telescopes, and posters of the planets. We played around with the various equipment while waiting for someone to show up, but in the end it was just the two of us.

Lovesick Classmate: Rumor has it that the club has closed down… I guess it’s actually true.

Disappointed, my classmate left the room. What should I do…

E.A) I’ll just go home.

I guess the club really has closed down.

Y/N: Hey, wait up! You’re the one that dragged me here!

I quickly ran after my classmate.

When I came back to the classroom, it was already getting dark outside. I quickly grabbed my bag and headed outside. It’s a long way back to the main gate… Since I’m late and there’s no one around, maybe I should just go to the back entrance? But I heard the sketchy students that eat junk food and steal your lunch money hang out there sometimes… I thought about it for a moment but couldn’t resist the temptation to take the short route instead of crossing the school yard. I headed towards the back of the school.

Senior Class Bully: Hey, you there. Got some cash?

Oh no… Just me and my luck…

Y/N: This is all I have… I was going to buy a new workbook… Senior Class Bully 2: Well, well. Thanks for sharing, kid. Now run along and go play nicely somewhere else. Y/N: …Right. Derek DaChoco: …… Y/N: Derek… DaChoco…

I gave Derek a desperate look, but he acted like he didn’t know me as he leaned against the wall. But I thought… I thought we had something. Seriously… Faith in humanity shattered.

~BAD ENDING~

E.B) I’ll wait around a bit longer.

I came all this way. Waiting some more wouldn’t hurt. It’s hard to say how long passed after that. But once again, I soon felt a presence behind me. As I turned to look, I saw Serena leaning against the doorframe as she stared at me.

Y/N: Ahh! Serena Faire! Serena Faire: Hello? Ah, you’re that student I met previously… Serena Faire: Thank you for showing an interest in the astronomy club… I thought I’d always be the only member… Y/N: Oh, really? That won’t do. I mean, astronomy is so interesting… Serena Faire: The club closing would mean losing this space and all the equipment too… So I thought about what to do, but. Serena Faire: I’m simply too shy. Y/N: Oh, well. That’s okay. I came, after all! Serena Faire: ……

Serena smiled softly at my words. Her smile was so lovely and beautiful.

Serena Faire: You must have been waiting since I came late… I came just in time to see the moon rise, you see. Serena Faire: Yes, I love astronomy, but I like the moon more than anything else in the sky. Serena Faire: The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured…

As I watched Serena mumble to herself, I couldn’t help but think of how cute she was once again. Then, Serena showed me how to use the telescope to see the stars better.

Y/N: Serena… How come you like the moon so much? Serena Faire: I wonder as well… Serena Faire: When I look up at the moon… it’s as if it soothes all my pain and sorrow away. Serena Faire: So I want to be closer to it but… also feel pained that it is impossible. Serena Faire: And that makes me think… is the moon actually soothing me? Or is it making me suffer?

Serena went silent again, as if lost in deep thoughts. After staying by her for a moment I said goodbye and left the astronomy club.

F) The science club looks quiet…

Y/N: The science club looks quiet…

And Lily White seems so kind as well… I quit hesitating and made my way to the science club.

Y/N: It’s always so quiet around here… It’s kind of nice.

Y/N: Hello…? Lily, are you there? Lily White: …! Y/N? Y/N: Oh, hello. I was just dropping by, but here you are. Lily White: Mhm… I have to avoid the sunlight, so I always stay here in the lab. Lily White: What's the occasion? Is everyone being noisy again?

F.A) This'll be my secret hide-out now!

Y/N: I was thinking of making this my secret hide-out from now on! Lily White: Pardon…? Lily White: I know I said you could visit anytime you needed some peace and quiet, but… Lily White: Are you saying you'll take the lab, my peaceful sanctuary, and make it your own?

As Lily's expression turned cold, so did the atmosphere of the lab.

F.A.A) It’s not like you own the lab…

Y/N: It's not like you own the lab… Y/N: I can come whenever I want, what's wrong with that? Lily White: …

The atmosphere slowly changed for the worse.

Lily White: I see… Like I said, this school's students need to be taught many things, and they've still much to learn. Lily White: They’re so noisy and disrespectful… Lily White: It’s students like you that get in the way of me creating the perfect school. Lily White: I'll have to add classes on good manners in my next attempt… Y/N: I… Huh? What? Lily White: That's right… Perhaps project no.183452 will yield better results.

I noticed that it was suddenly getting darker outside… What was happening?

Lily White: Then I'll have to abandon this version. I learned an important lesson thanks to you, Y/N. Lily White: Thank you!

[The program will restart after the update.] After reading that sentence, I felt myself disappearing little by little… Ah… Perhaps I shouldn't have been so rude…

~BAD ENDING~

F.A.B) Just kidding, I came to see you!

Y/N: J-Just kidding! I came to see you of course! Lily White: Huh…? Me?

The air in the room turned warm and pleasant again.

Lily White: Hehe, alright. But don't joke like that again, okay?

I nodded vigorously. I had a feeling that I should definitely try to avoid making Lily angry…

F.B) Thank you for yesterday.

Y/N: No, I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. Y/N: And everyone was talking about what club to join, so I thought of the science club… Lily White: I see… That makes me happy. Lily White: You being thankful, and that you want to join the science club. Lily White: But the science club isn't accepting new members right now. Y/N: Oh, that’s too bad… Lily White: But I'll think of you as an honorary member, so please come visit anytime you'd like, Y/N. Y/N: Really? Would that be alright? Lily White: Of course. Hehe.

I felt a strange sensation in my chest as I watched Lily smile faintly, looking almost translucent in the shadows.

Y/N: Everyone I met in their clubs seemed so different from their usual selves in the classroom. Y/N: It made me realize that I had learned something new. Y/N: That people really shine when they’re doing what they love. Sometimes, it even makes you see that person in a new light. Y/N: I wonder if I have such a side to me as well…?

Before I could come up with an answer, I fell asleep with a content smile on my face.

[poptart-productions]

Crazy In Love

[eren jaeger boyfriend headcanons]

pairing // eren jaeger x black! reader

content // y/n in their loner arc, some nsfw mostly fluff, stoner! eren, mechanic! eren, streamer/gamer! eren, swearing, spoilers for s4 bc there are some ppl who haven’t watched yet

a/n // been getting back into my aot obsession

applies to both modern and canon eren

this is more of a drabble than a one shot but if you want more of this au. . .shawty all you gotta do is ask

gender isn’t really mentioned but eren’s stream does call you mommy at one point, just ignore it otherwise

streamer! eren is in the works rn tbh

——————————✩———————————

ੈ✩ | so modern/high school eren pre time skip is an absolute menace

ੈ✩ | he behaved for a week and then all that went out the window when jean said something under his breath

ੈ✩ | genuinely has anger issues, adhd, and depression—which he tends to show through unbridled rage

ੈ✩ | you’d be lying if you said he didn’t catch your eye; he was attractive and was in a trio when you ain’t even got one true friend. but he had three, and he didn’t seem to need or even want any more

ੈ✩ | that’s why it is so fucking hard to get close to this nigga; there were times he was such a dick to you for no reason—if it’s any consolation he feels like shit about that and ten times out of ten it never had anything to do with you

ੈ✩ | gremlin eren? gremlin eren

ੈ✩ | this nigga can never shut up, and while mikasa is the number one person who gets him to stop acting up, she gets ACTIVE when he’s in a losing fight

ੈ✩ | eventually he got in trouble so much that his ass got expelled, his father—after trying literally everything else, got him a medical marijuana card—mans said “bet” and never stopped since

ੈ✩ | OKAY NOW MODERN MANBUN EREN—in the time that he was gone, mikasa and armin took you under their wing, becoming your first real friends; and as they made you comfortable, you started coming into your own more

ੈ✩ | you’d heard about eren’s whereabouts, and knew they talked to him about you, but you always refused to talk to him when given the chance because there was a time where you GENUINELY thought he hated you

ੈ✩ | everyone on tumblr says he’s a stoner and i have no choice but to agree—like that’s why he’d be so mellowed out, and with no titans he’d be the coolest mf out there

ੈ✩ | then when mikasa found out you had a thing for him since freshmen year she finally gets the gang back together four years later—she 100% snitched and bro. . .you almost didn’t recognize him as he walked into the karaoke bar

ੈ✩ | he’d grown his hair out—he had just grown in general, shooting from 5’11 to 6’3, and he’s gotten some tattoos as well

ੈ✩ | your jaw went slack as you gaped at mikasa who only gave you knowing glance

ੈ✩ | not only that, but his voice has gotten an unbelievable amount of bass to it—you almost zoned out every-time it was his turn to sing

ੈ✩ | eren knows how short life is—and he goes after what he wants—he always has, but tbh younger eren never had romantic interest and for the longest time he was a closeted aromantic—getting off-topic but that changed as he grew and he asked you out immediately on a count of what i said before

ੈ✩ | guy is still aromantic but does experience love (though mostly platonic) for very few people,

ੈ✩ | because of that, his confession is the most genuine thing you’ve ever heard—“i didn’t realize it then, but i’d always felt different about you”

“you’re so precious, and sweet and kind—and you’re so fucking good to others, and i thought it was a prank or something when you tried to talk to me—but fuck, when mikasa told me you used to like me, i couldn’t miss the opportunity so i gotta ask. . .”

“would you go out with me?”—and coming from the dude you’ve been crushing on for years and being a person who no one has ever expressed romantic interest to over things you can’t control, you did in fact start crying

ੈ✩ | because he’s so hard to get close to, he’s had many pick-me’s try—even in his gremlin arc—thinking they was in a romance webtoon; jumping in while he was beating the shit out of whoever—“eren, look at me! this isn’t you!”

ੈ✩ | fuck your insecurities about that though because eren is literally the sweetest and most affirming person out there once you get to know him

ੈ✩ | surprisingly a hopeless romantic—only for you—he’s your biggest supporter and he simps so hard. your first date is a picnic, he asked jean—after he apologized and they formed a friendship—to help him throw together a little spread for you

ੈ✩ | he’s absolutely in love with you and will do anything for you

ੈ✩ | your race has so little bearing on your relationship but every once in a while he’ll randomly remember he’s got a melanated lover—and what new circumstances that brings

ੈ✩ | like when he’ll just a get a call a from you at three a.m and answers thinking he’s gonna get some ass and you just start crying

“babe i’ve been doing my hair since 10 p.m and it’s not even halfway done—and i’m so fucking tired but if i. . .” you sniffle, “if i go to sleep now i can’t go to class because my hair looks like shit”

“babe, what are you talking about, why is it—?”

he eventually comes over because he’s so confused as to what’s taking so long, but after he offered to help you and he made you cry even more he understood—nigga broke a sweat tryna wrangle that shit

y’all gave up and decided to miss out on class and tackle it in the morning; he helps you wrap it up and you guys—despite saying you were tired for an hour you could go to sleep so just watched coryxkenshin until the sun came up

ੈ✩ | he’s not only white, but he’s white-european he simply does not understand these things

ੈ✩ | but the fact that he makes an effort to understand your culture in the first place will literally make you cry sometimes—like you can visibly see him fighting his adhd so he can listen to you talk about your hair or what a ‘black card’ is and you always reward him with a kiss for listening to you

ੈ✩ | once he gets it though he’s hard chilling. you notice he started to use more aave; and he started paying for you to get your hair done bc he’s a trust fund kid, and he will always respect the amount of effort that goes into it. he’s also like, super into using aave and slang—he uses it more than you, and even knows the uncle ruckus joke despite NEVER watching boondocks in his life; he doesn’t think he’s black but. . .y’know. and it only gets worse when he meets your family

ੈ✩ | your mother LOVES him, and is constantly telling you that she wants him as her son-in-law, he’s repsectful, handsome, strong, and hard-working—she will literally never forgive you if you let him go

ੈ✩ | EREN. JAEGER. AT. A. COOKOUT.

ੈ✩ | if it’s his first one he’s super jittery and nervous at first. but eren’s a super chill dude so if you have to leave him alone he’ll be cool with anyone

ੈ✩ | your uncles wanna sit in the driveway and pop a cold one? sign him up. your little cousins/siblings swear they can beat him in mario kart? they fucking wish, your aunts wanna sit and talk shit—he was doing that anyway—he’s a super friendly person and he gets along well with anyone

ੈ✩ | will literally film tiktoks with you at the family cookout despite hating having pictures or videos taken of him—he sees how happy you are so he doesn’t care

ੈ✩ | i feel like eren has a very physical job and streams part time for funsies. so yeah when he tells your family that he’s a mechanic when they ask they literally erupt

ੈ✩ | because he’s so hard-working, your aunts love him—constantly making him plates and taking care of him and such

ੈ✩ | and if you have any messy in-laws that try to talk shit or get with him he will deadass call them out

all those years of playing COD made his trash talk elite. . .shit. . .

“how you gon’ talk about my baby when your edges ain’t laid?”

“get your fucking teeth straight before you talk shit”

ੈ✩ | it’s the fact that he did not stop—like homegirl deadass was on the brink of tears and had to leave; nobody liked her anyway so he was good

ੈ✩ | jacked as fuck so just casually holds you down when he doesn’t want you to leave

ੈ✩ | demands kisses at all times; good morning kiss, goodnight kiss, hello kiss, good bye kiss, or just because you’re looking too damn fine

ੈ✩ | shows you off on stream.

“eren, baby—oh shit, are you streaming? my fault” your heart drops as you see yourself in the viewfinder, and you back out of the room—hiding yourself behind the door

“hang on guys—oh no babe, you’re fine”

you thought you had embarrassed him by pulling up in your pajamas but the chat was in love

you hesitantly inch closer as the chat continues to go wild

‘mommy? sorry, mommy?”

‘GAHHDAMN 🥲🕶️👌”

‘oh they fine alright”

“what did you wanna tell me?” he takes off his headset, giving you his undivided attention.

“i was gonna tell you to stop screaming”

“oh damn, you coulda kept that to yourself then” his face stiffened, half-heartedly and he turned back to the game

chuckling, you begin to walk away,

“wait~” he whines, “come here” his voice lowers as you walk toward him, already knowing what he was going to ask

you give him a kiss and pull away very quickly because you know eren too well

“i love you,” his whispers against your lips, “i love you too”

you say goodbye to his viewer and head out to continue your studies

“that’s my lover” you hear him state proudly as you closed the door

ੈ✩ | ngl, i feel like canon! eren pre-timeskip would mostly act the exact same

ੈ✩ | it’d be a little easier to win him over though. since you’re ‘different’ his curiosity draws him to you, and your perseverance and skill is something that’s warrants his respect

ੈ✩ | what’s that belief that life-threatening situations brings people together? that helps too

ੈ✩ | he starts off barely even saying two words to you and now you’ll both protect each other with your lives by the events of season two

ੈ✩ | LIKE JUST IMAGINE THE SCENE WHEN HE DISCOVERS HE HOLDS THE COORDINATE; like you and mikasa are not in good shape so he’s so determined to protect you—and you and mikasa have resigned to your fates but he’s like

“i’ll keep looking after you”

“now and forever, whenever you need me”

ੈ✩ | screaming crying and throwing up

ੈ✩ | or the scene where he takes back the wall in his titan form—and you immediately tackle him as soon as he’s comes staggering out of the nape,

“you did it eren!”

ੈ✩ | most def, especially after that scene from s3—his crush on you is very obvious—like let’s say you pushed mika out of the way and you got your ribs broken instead of her; when you guys make it to that little cabin, he’s literally putting in work to make sure you don’t have to move an inch—chopping firewood, helping make dinner, even volunteering to stand watch or staying up all night in case you need him—but of course you would still come out to check on him

“he’s like a hardworking husband and they’re his doting partner” historia would smile as she watched you two interact

ੈ✩ | eren would spend years pining for you without realizing it until the he almost lost you—be it to the titans or another man

ੈ✩ | he gets the help he needs to confess from the guys who screw him over—not entirely on purpose, but he ends up humiliating himself in front of you; the next day he’s avoiding you like he’s insane until you eventually just blurt out that you like him back

ੈ✩ | i lowkey feel like eren would be way too romantic or so lowkey people have no idea you’re dating—shit not even you knew for like a month

ੈ✩ | deadass, it took this nigga pulling up with a bouquet of flowers claiming it was for your anniversary and you just blinked at him

“are we not dating. . . ?”

ੈ✩ | pre time-skip eren is when he’s the most affectionate but even then he literally only pipes up when you’re in danger

ੈ✩ | you see a different side of him in his titan form—even though he doesn’t have the capacity for speech, his eyes tell you all you need to know.

ੈ✩ | he mellows out a lot because this is the only form he’s in where he feels like nothing can hurt you—he’s untouchable and so are you. so he’s generally a lot softer in this form

ੈ✩ | he’s like a big puppy, responding positively and humming when you scratch his head

ੈ✩ | if you don’t like saliva do NOT do missions with titan! eren. nigga literally just puts you in his mouth for cover when the spot gets too hot

ੈ✩ | and if you EVER get kidnapped for any reason eren is activating his titan form—even if the perpetrators are human he could not give a fuck—he’s already not a cautious person but he really do be wilding when it comes to you, that’s why levi tried to keep you separate before realizing that it only makes it worse.

ੈ✩ | now post time-skip canon! eren. . .bro ima be fr, that nigga is so confusing

ੈ✩ | like let’s say you didn’t know him prior and were just a jaegerist, it was genuinely so difficult to tell if he was just manipulating you or not

ੈ✩ | even when he swore up and down that he loves you—you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just saying that because he knew if you thought he cared about you, you’d be willing to do just about anything for him

ੈ✩ | now is that actually true. . . ?

maybe.

ੈ✩ | but if you knew him since childhood he’s a lot easier to read, like you were just calling bullshit when he was gaslighting mikasa and armin in that one scene—even if he tried that on you, you were not having it

ੈ✩ | he’d gladly abandon everything for you if you caught the signs quick enough, but even after he already declared war on the marlyeans, he’d still give you many chances to save him

ੈ✩ | he’s the boy who sought freedom, but he finds solace in your presence and knowing you care for him. so if you tell him you love him he will deadass just take your hand and beg you to run away with him

ੈ✩ | if you say yes—which you will—bc c’mon now, he’ll build you two a little cottage up in the mountains and live the rest of his days with you, enjoying the simple life he’d always dreamed of with the person he loves more than anything

ੈ✩ | thinking about cottage au! eren rn AHHH

ੈ✩ | now if you decide to play the anarchy route i’m sure y’all will make a great terrorist power couple

y’all some real

💅 ✨ 💖 sassy shooters 💖✨💅

i don’t actually condone this but go off ig

ੈ✩ | also generally, he’s more a physical kinda guy, so don’t feel awkward about sitting on his lap while he’s meeting with volunteers and fellow jaegerists

ੈ✩ | sometimes, you wake up to him crying quietly beside you and you always scoot over and start spooning him

ੈ✩ | every once in awhile he’ll say things that remind you of the old eren, and it makes you wanna cry every time

ੈ✩ | you still love him though, and are willing to wait for him to come around

ੈ✩ | if you die in the war though, it’s up. he’s gonna keep going forward and won’t stop until he’s dead

ੈ✩ | he loves you so much, good god you’re so heavenly

alright people NSFW time so head out if you’re not interested

ੈ✩ | so modern eren! remember how i said he was a mechanic? somehow whenever he comes home, one of you is always frustrated. like imagine you were already missing him, and he gets home and his shirt is off, his skin is glowing and hes got oil smudges painting random patches of his coveralls

“eren—“ you very loudly gulp; you had just wanted to greet your loving boyfriend with his favorite snack but when you saw him in all his glory you really couldn’t help it

ੈ✩ | eren literally always knows when you want something from him; whether it’s because he’s good at detecting it, or you’re just bad at hiding it is up for debate but he clocks you either way

ੈ✩ | but eren, being the cheeky bastard he is, makes you say it. being shy isn’t very fruitful when it comes to him

ੈ✩ | now if he’s the horny one, it’s on fucking sight yo—and there’s no running away, the longer he’s away from you, the more frustrated he becomes

“ah—! eren,” you’re preparing dinner one minute and being bent over the counter the next “—need you” he whines

ੈ✩ | yeah, mans gets v whiny when he’s desperate for it

ੈ✩ | no if ands or buts about it, eren jaeger is a nasty man—regardless of what universe he’s in

ੈ✩ | into spit, vouyerism, and all the other dirty and nasty ass shit

ੈ✩ | into anal anything—even on himself, like if you sneak down to give him a rim job while giving oral he will become so whiny

ੈ✩ | will let you peg or finger him if you’ve got the guts to dom him

ੈ✩ | his moans are something else bro

ੈ✩ | HE’S SO AFFIRMING; “go ahead baby, you can ride” “don’t be shy look at me—pretty eyes on me, on me” “fuck yes, make yourself feel good on my cock” “fuck, you’re perfect”

“i love you so much”

“fuck, are you okay? yeah? okay, gonna move”

ੈ✩ | fuck, he loves mirror sex

ੈ✩ | he’ll let you ride for as long as you want sweetheart, and when you inevitably get tired he’ll buck his hips into yours, laying you down before shifting so he could thrust up more comfortably

ੈ✩ | you don’t notice, but he pays a lot of attention to what he’s doing during sex and will constantly look up to catch your reactions when he makes a strategic change of angles as he blows your back out

ੈ✩ | so yeah he knows your body like the back of his hand

ੈ✩ | SPEAKING OF WHICH, HIS HANDS BRO OML, HE HAS THE PRETTIEST FUCKING HANDS, like they’re calloused but slender and long with a pink hue dusted over his knuckles

ੈ✩ | he would rock you on his fingers while he’s gaming because you were lonely. and because you were so good he fucks you after

ੈ✩ | so canon! eren. . .bro first of all, whoever called eren’s titan form hot. get out, bc like i’m a closeted monsterfucker but how would it work? homeboy ain’t got no lips, no dick—and even if he did it’d literally kill you.

ੈ✩ | the only thing i could think of is him covering you with his tongue or you rubbing against one of his fingers

ੈ✩ | he lets out a lot of aggression on you; sometimes he’ll even cry against you—mans just gets really emotional when he can see your face

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[rickmandowneyjr]

Fluff, angst

Pairing: Severus Snape x Student!Reader

Warning: mention of character's death

Word count: 1300

(feedback is appreciated ^_^)

No description. Just read to find out :p

Entering the headmaster's office, you saw Severus standing with his back to you. You took a moment to eye him, his frame, and the way he stood, before shutting the door behind you. As it clicked, he spoke, "[Y/N]. Back again, are we?" His voice sent butterflies through your stomach, as it always did. You smirked to yourself, before feigning annoyance and saying, "You didn't even turn around. Why did you just assume it was me?"

He chuckled lowly as he turned around. "Well, you're my most frequent visitor, love," he smiled warmly at you. "Besides, I could feel you ogling me," he teased.

Yep, now in your 7th year at Hogwarts, you had been dating Severus Snape for over two years. You'd had a crush on him since the second year when you were 14 (yes, you were older than your classmates), choosing to act on your feelings, only a couple of weeks after you had turned eighteen.

You still remembered kissing him in your 6th year, when he was the DADA professor. Bold move, considering he'd given you detention for being distracted in his class. You'd been trying to find an opportunity to confess to him when he presented you with the perfect one. As you were reminiscing the beginning of your little love story, he brought you back to reality when he asked, "So, what did you do this time?"

A smirk tugged at your lips as you recalled the incident. "I may or may not have turned the Quidditch field pink," you said, trying to hold back your laughter as you remembered the horrified looks on everyone's faces. You looked up at Severus, who had an amused smile on his face.

"You look like you're not surprised," you said raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, after you turned the new DADA professor's office neon yellow, I don't think I am," he snickered. Seeing him smile so freely made your heart swell. He never did it as often, earlier. But I guess it was cause he had no troubles anymore. The Battle against Voldemort happened the previous year, which Voldemort lost, meaning everyone was finally free of the Dark Lord's torment. Though it sucked that you had to repeat the final year, you chose to see it as a good thing; it meant you could still see Severus.

"Why do you never smile around others? I swear they'd think of you as less scary if they saw you smiling this adorably."

"First of all, I'm glad they're still scared of me. I have a reputation to uphold. And second of all, I'd smile around others if they made me smile like you do."

Your heart fluttered at his words. Severus always said these things so nonchalantly - it added to the beauty of it, honestly. He gave you such sweet compliments without the intention of it being a compliment.

"So, what did you do today?" You asked, taking a seat on the headmaster's table.

"Same old, same old. Not much to do here, I'm afraid. Must you always sit on top of the table?" He asked.

"I recall you enjoying it when I would hop onto your table in the DADA classroom," you teased.

"It was different then. I could simply lock the door and do something about it," he played along. You smirked before hopping off the table and taking a seat on the chair, mumbling an annoyed, "Fine."

The rest of detention went by just talking to Severus and telling him about your day. You both recalled instances from when you had just started dating, laughing and playfully arguing about whose version of the events was correct. You were smiling to yourself when Severus spoke, interrupting your thoughts. His tone had changed, assuming a more serious one and you worried about the discussion that was to come.

"Everything aside, you can't keep doing this, sweetheart. You're just ruining your perfect record in school."

"I don't really care about a perfect record. I already have my grades securing my future," you mumbled.

"I agree. But getting detention over and over just to come see me, isn't a good look. Neither is healthy," he spoke with concern and care, trying to not hurt you with his words.

You inhaled sharply, letting out a shaky exhale at his words. Before you could recover from the earlier sentence, he dropped yet another harsh truth for you to comprehend.

"Besides, you graduate next week. What are you going to do then? You won't be able to see me."

You took yet another deep breath, knowing there was truth in his words. You were just conveniently ignoring the facts up until now, putting off having to deal with reality. You didn't want to discuss it until you had to leave, wanting to enjoy whatever time you had left with him. "I know," you sighed. "If I'm being honest, I'm considering whisking you away from here. A kidnapping, if you will," you joked. "I just need to find the perfect getaway vehicle now."

He let out a soft chuckle but remained serious. "We can't keep doing this. I understand that it's difficult. It's difficult for me too," he paused. "You have your whole life ahead of you and my future is here, at Hogwarts."

Severus was only stating what you knew, but that didn't make the words hurt any less. "I could always come back to be a professor. The DADA teacher, if Hogwarts would have me."

"You're a talented witch, love. And Hogwarts would be lucky to have you as a professor, but I would have to say no."

"Why not?" You argued.

"Because not only do I know that you planned to be an Auror, but also because you have your whole life ahead of you. I'm not letting you throw your future away because of me, little one. You need to move on."

"Plans change, Severus. We planned our life together but look where we are right now."

"No means no, little one!"

"But-"

"Please, love! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let you do what you want to. It's absolutely ridiculous! Please don't make spend the rest of my life with that guilt."

You finally snapped at that sentence. "What life?!"

Silence filled the room, the ringing in your ears growing louder until it stopped. The admittance had your heart pounding against your chest and you could hear it in your ears as you felt your pulse throbbing in your neck. Tears stung your eyes, knowing this was it. Your little fantasy had finally been shattered, forcing you to accept reality.

"What life, Severus? Rest of your life? Of all the thing you could've said?" Your voice cracked as a few tears escaped, streaming down your cheeks.

"You're gone! And this is all I have left of you. It's pathetic, really. I've been so unable to move on, I've attached myself to a portrait."

You sobbed silently as he watched. What else could he do? He couldn't comfort you... No matter how much he wanted to. So he just watched, hearing your heart-wrenching sobs as you finally let it all out.

"I could never move on. Knowing you loved me until your very last breath, knowing that we could've been something so much more, and remembering everything that we got to be. No one could ever take your place. So, no. I won't move on. But, I will stop coming to see you if that's what you want," you said, walking towards him.

You brought your hand to your lips, kissing it softly, transferring it onto the canvas, placing it where his hand was. You turned around and walked to the door, looking at him one last time as you left. "Goodbye, Severus."

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

ateez x ship dynamics headcannons

find more content here: ateez masterlist  disclaimer: this is all a fig of my imagination, do not point fingers at me i will get scared ↬ word count: 717 words in total a/n: i absolutely had a brain-rot thinking about this in my short 15 minute bus ride home today so might as well ! 

tough guy x cinnabun ➯ hongjoong 

hongjoong as: tough guy

if anything, hongjoong’s got that look (the panty smoldering look-)

if you’re the sweet innocent type, hongjoong is bound to fall for you and swears on his life to protect you from anything 

also the brooding type, who would protectively stand behind you in anything 

he is bordering between that line of being obsessive - hands around your waist type beat 

clueless x blunt ➯ seonghwa

seonghwa as: blunt type

(do you not see the way he carries himself: like he KNOWS the power he has over us) 

unfortunately if you’re the clueless type (which is absolutely me), his actions would just fly past you and you’d probably think of him as a friend

boy is trying his best to make you see that he’s trying to woo you, but you brush it off 

do friends kiss- (because that was seonghwa’s last resort to make you SEE he adores you)

big x small ➯ yunho

yunho as: tall type

this obviously goes without saying because he is REALLY tall

but uhm, if you’re as tall as him then he’d try even harder to be taller than you (it will end up as a cute competition, i’d say) 

BUT if he is indeed taller than you, he will not hesitate to coddle you at any given opportunity: tucking you in his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head 

best part is when he spoons you? YEAH end of conversation i am sad and imagining this right now

emotionless x emotional ➯ yeosang

yeosang as: emotionless type

now now, this is definitely not true: yeosang is expressive

he’s slowly warming up to you, a person who expresses themselves freely 

he’s staring at you as you animatedly tell him about every and anything that happened to you and he’s going like, “damn this person is so full of life-”

and like i said, he’s slowly warming up to you and your expressions and he’d pick up your mannerisms along the way 

yeah now imagine you’re san in that gif ajsdhkasjdhaksdj

cat x dog ➯ san 

san as: dog type

playful energy all the time, ready to let loose and have a bit of fun

would 11/10 melt if you gave him attention (like any form of attention), asks you for head pats the most

he’s an absolute ball of unbridled excitement 

whereas you’d be the more chill one, just taking things in stride

san likes it when he’s up early in the morning and he’s just gazing lovingly at you 

dumbass x their dumbass ➯ mingi

mingi as: dumbass

getting himself into trouble seemed to be the norm and you’re there to get him out of it

or even if he didn’t get himself in trouble he’s a bit of the clumsy type, a (cute) bumbling fool who could get away with just about everything with that pretty smile of his 

that also meant everyone immediately associated you with mingi and vice versa because “he’s your monkey, he’s your circus

playful + popular x nerdy + serious ➯ wooyoung

wooyoung as: playful + popular 

in my mind wooyoung is that nice person, all-rounder just so swoon worthy in a school setting (mmm a bit like rivals to lovers but none of you are rivals)

you’d have fallen for him first but your crush being hidden under wraps because you’re that much of a wallflower

not until you caught his attention when he spilt milk on your shoes 

since then he has been teasing you, attempting to find you to bother you everyday

he finds himself so caught up by you he falls in love with you too awhh

chaotic on the outside x chaotic on the inside ➯ jongho

jongho as: chaotic on the inside

he doesn’t show his “goofy, quirky” side ever too often for he’s trying to go for that chic and friendly look 

but as soon as the opportunity lands right smack at his feet, he’d take it

in FACT, he’d grab YOU along and run with that chance, ready to pull a prank 

you two have a slightly mean streak of humour but what’s done is all in the name of friendship and are generally harmless

the bonus points if you two instigate something and manage to not get blamed for it 

[chuuya-centric]

making out hcs

characters: osamu dazai, ranpo edogawa, chuuya nakahara

genre: suggestive

warnings: gn reader, no pronouns used, uhm 🧍 yk it gets a lil steamy and has like mentions of sex ??? but theres def nothing super explicit

—

↬making out with dazai is always ............ interesting to say the least 🧐 it can happen anywhere, at anytime, and you'll never know until it's too late

↬sometimes it'll start out as a quick peck, and then another, and another, and— hey, is it just you or does each kiss keep getting longer 🤨 when did he slip your coat off ??-?_;?? now his arms r around your waist and .............. o look at that he's got you pressed up against the wall with u gasping for air bc he's barely giving you anytime to breathe

↬speaking of, his kisses always leave u breathless 🧎 he is such a good kisser please lord i just know it 🛐🛐

↬he usually just leaves after these types of makeout sessions (much to your annoyance) 💀💀💀 he likes getting you all worked up and then going right back to work like he didnt just have his tongue down your throat and his leg between ur thighs

↬other times his kisses r slower n more passionate from the get-go and u know exactly where this is ab to lead (these types of make out sessions will often lead to sex tbh, they're always really sensual and smooth and he has no intent of leaving u all high n dry)

↬personally he prefers kissing w (a lot of) tongue, but if ur not into it, he'll understand and "do his best" to take that into account (but dont be surprised if you end up w his tongue in your mouth either way 💀 if you like it ? fantastic 😚💖 if you dont ?? he loves seeing u squeal in disgust and try to push him away in surprise LMFAO)

↬he always somehow tastes like sake with a little bit of mint ?;?_(&?$-_??$&? dont ask me how but he does 🤨🚶 that being said he tastes better than you'd expect and kissing him is a magical experience 🤤

—

↬ranpo's kisses r sweet like candy

↬jk but he does taste like candy so ig that wasnt an entirely inaccurate statement 😚😚

↬he isn't usually one to initiate the kiss tbh, he prefers when you do it LMAO 💀 but whenever he does, they're most likely to be a quick peck to your lips or cheek (he isn't really a fan of any kinds of pda bc he actually gets embarrassed rlly easily)

↬behind closed doors, however, is a different story 🚶🧑‍🦯 hes a lil more likely to initiate the kiss and whenever he does ............ o lord 🧎🧎🧎 theyre fs a reflection of him

↬ranpo's kisses r very fun and airy, !! and out of these three men here, he's the most likely to laugh and smile and giggle in between kisses

↬making out with him is an experience given to you from the gods PLEASSSKEEEE and it's never awkward bc if sth happens you'll both just laugh ab it and carry on

↬usually makeout sessions start bc u gave him a kiss, but he was feeling clingy (not that he'd ever admit it 💀💀💀) so he pulled you back in for another, and another, and another, and hey look at that, you've been kissing him for the past 15 minutes and now ur both gasping for breath

↬doesn't really mind tongue, enjoys it even 🧏 and when he tastes so sweet, how could you refuse him 🧐❓

↬OH MY GOD HIS FAVOURITE THING IS WHEN let me turn off caps okay his favourite thing is when he's eating his candies or whatever (probably like hard candy tho yk so you cant just bite into that shit immiediately it has to sit and melt a lil idk) and u ask him what flavour it is and he'll pull you into a kiss and let you taste for yourself and take a guess (dont be surprised if you actually end up w the candy afterwards, he doesnt mind sharing so long as it's with you <33)

↬RANPO MAKE OUT WITH ME CHALLENGE ;!_(&!-??&!:?:!&(:!:!_!&;

—

↬chuuya's kisses r nothing short of rough and passionate

↬his kisses also tend to be v rushed and sloppy however that doesn't mean they're not enjoyable

↬i'd dare call him the middle ground between dazai and ranpo 🤨🧐 kisses aren't like every five minutes (dazai im lookin at you 🤨), but rather spaced out throughout the day as to keep you satisfied

↬once again ............. he is a tongue man. he tastes like a fine (slightly sweet?) red wine nine times out of ten (the other one time he just tasted like straight fuckin mint ??? 😭💀 like ur eyes started watering after and he got really concerned like "babe r u ok 😟” and you were like "yeah but y THE FUCK is your breath so minty" 💀💀)

↬i am so sorry everyone here likes tongue, i'll make more hcs like these feat. mfs who don't like it LMAOO

↬he understands if ur not a fan of tongue, so unlike SOMEONE, he'll actually take your personal preference into account and do his absolute best to keep his tongue to himself 🤒🤒

↬ok so similar to ranpo, chuuya loves sharing his wine w you — thru making out kissing ofc 🧎 never passes up an opportunity to take a (rather large) swig and let it pass between your parted lips (might get a lil carried away and slip u a lil tongue but yk it is what it is 🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯)

↬he actually has a tendency to get carried away regardless tbh 😚 it starts out as jus like a short lil kiss but yk ............ u come back in for another ............... and another — is anyone else seeing a pattern here 🧐🤨❓ these three men r the best kissers in bsd and i do NOT take criticism — and oops, now ur sitting on his desk with him standing in between ur legs as he starts trailing kisses down your neck before he suddenly remembers he still has work to do and he tells you he promises he'll finish what he started later (and oh boy was it worth the wait 😩😩😫🤤🤞)

[permanentcrossfics]

Twelve Hours In Miami // h.s.

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.”

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….”

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?”

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.”

He was not serious. He couldn’t be.

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

This took a minute (yes, I hate italicizing from Google and making a Wattpad cover that much. Yes, I will avoid it like the plague. Yes, there was a lot else going on, as well). Thank you to all of you who were patient! I hope you enjoy xx

The knock on your door was too loud, insistent, and rhythmic for it to be an accident, but it was too early for it to be anybody you’d want in your room. 

Whatever it was in the Miami air, it’d absolutely drained you of all energy. Every night since you’d landed, you’d passed out at 11:00pm, sharp, and slept until around 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning, and the only reason you got out of bed then was the only reason you were even in the city to begin with. 

“Work trip? To Miami?” 

Harry had brightened considerably when you mentioned when and where you’d be going for a quick turnaround, and you hadn’t understood why until he told you what wasn’t quite public yet. He’d be working, too, and his calendar was full (he’d absolutely deserved the ribbing you gave him when he told you that), but, “‘S’nice sometimes, y’know? To have a friend around?” 

Friend. You hadn’t seen your friend in the three days it’d been since you landed. Even despite being in the same hotel. Even despite having pockets of time in both your schedules that worked, and while part of it might be your fault and your inability to stay awake, part of it was just… timing. 

So much of what was between you could be boiled down to timing and lack thereof. Why would a weekend be any different? Why, on this weekend, would you be able to make it work when he had meetings and events jammed in and you had obligations of your own? Why would now work any better than the other opportunities that had fizzled despite every hope, effort, and intention? 

The knocking continued and you groaned, throwing the blankets you’d been huddled under down the bed as you twisted to look at the hotel alarm clock. 

Six in the morning. Six! And they were still going! They’d better be telling you something extremely good or extremely awful to be trying to break down your door this early, but when you glanced through the peephole, your annoyance was tempered with shock and a shot of elation. He was looking up and down the hall, suitcase on the ground next to him and already dressed for the day, and it was then you became aware of how little you were dressed. 

“Hang--” You cleared your throat and tapped the door. “Hang on, I’ll be right….” You scrambled back to the armchair you’d thrown your robe on last night to have something on over the camisole and underwear you’d crawled into bed with before twisting the locks and opening the door. “Is everything-- what are you doing here?” 

His shoulders rose and fell with his deep breath and you swore you thought his eyes took a quick trip up and down your body. “Morning,” he said, his own voice miles smoother than yours. How long had he been awake? “D’you mind if I…?”

You shook your head and stepped back and he and his baggage disappeared into your room as you closed up. When you rejoined him, he’d deposited his suitcase next to the luggage rack that held yours, and he’d taken off the tinted sunglasses that he had no business wearing so early in the morning, anyway. “Did they kick you out?” you asked, still struggling to grasp for real words that meant anything. 

He smiled halfway and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” Now that he was in your room, you could pay attention to him. His hair looked like it still had a little bit of leftover product in it, but not in a dirty, greasy way. His loose-fitting trousers were fastened snugly right above his hips, but it was the t-shirt that made your mouth go dry and your mind wander. Tight and tucked into his trousers, gloves wished they could fit hands like this fit his torso. It was close, and you could see practically every line and indentation of his stomach and chest. 

“Hmm?”

He laughed once. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.” You took a deep breath. “Why are you here?” you asked.

“Figured I’d come hang out.”

You looked at the alarm clock next to your bed. “It’s 6:15.” 

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but… it’s my last day here. And I haven’t seen you once.”

“You were busy,” you said automatically, a familiar excuse that had become rote at some point. “We were--”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. Busy, busy, always busy. “But my flight’s not until this afternoon, so I thought… my morning’s free, and if you want to….” 

“What time is your flight?”

Eleven, twelve, one…?

“Five.”

“Five!?” 

“Thirty,” he confirmed. “That’s when I leave for the airport, anyway.” 

He was not serious. He couldn’t be. 

“You’re seriously--”

“Going to spend the next twelve or so hours with you, yeah,” he said in one quick breath. “If you’ll let me.” 

His eyes were wide and hopeful but guarded, you realized, anticipating the possibility that you might say no. 

“I’ve been trying for days.” The quiet confession almost drowned in the deafening silence of the room, and in that moment, you remembered every missed call, every text, every visit to your door that he’d stolen just to see you before he had to run off to an event and you had to crawl into bed. You remembered every fleeting embrace, every missed kiss to the corner of your mouth, every look that had lasted a second too long to be normal and lacked the ability to make him stay. “But we just never… s’never a good time, so I’m making the time for you now. If that’s something you want.” 

“Do I want time with you?” You clutched the neckline of your robe like an old woman clutched pearls, and your throat felt tight, full of words you’d swallowed again, and again, and again. Did you want time with him? Of course you wanted time with him. Five minutes, five hours, five days, five years, you wanted anything he could give, but you’d given up on that a little bit. Not on him, but on you. 

“Can y’make time?” His throat bobbed and the smile he gave you was crushingly vulnerable even with its self-assured charm. “For me?” 

Yes or no. In or out. Carpe diem. 

You nodded and it was like a pin had pricked the bubble around both of you, tension easing out in a whistle. Harry shuffled closer and you stood, glued to the carpet in your bare feet, as he lifted his hands. He hesitated for a moment and you saw a glimpse of his tongue held between his lips in thought before he cupped your cheeks. Together, you exhaled, and your eyes closed, heart racing uncontrollably. His hands were warm, sturdy, and soft in their own way, and your lips parted when he drew his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks. 

Days after weeks after months after who knew how long, and now he was standing in front of you in a hotel room of all places with less than twelve hours before he had to leave for the airport, but if it was all the time in the world you had…. 

He kissed you, then, and what little time you had left stood still. A distinct sensation of relief flooded through you, like a geyser that had been waiting to gush, and you sighed through your nose, leaning into his mouth. He’d shaved, but you could still feel the sandpaper of his chin against yours, and it was a sharp contrast to the soft sweep of his tongue into your mouth. For all of five seconds, you couldn’t think, or move, but when he groaned -- deep, throaty, and in a way only he could -- it snapped something in you. 

His chest and stomach were firm under your roaming hands, although you liked the softness around his hips best because of the way he sucked in a quick breath. You curled your fingers into the cotton and swayed when he stepped forward and tipped your head back to deepen the kiss further, showing both his hand and his greed, and it was your turn to whimper when he slipped one of his hands down your neck and over your shoulder underneath the robe you’d thrown on. Not anything like the friendly pats and lingering squeezes he’d given you in the past and that you’d returned in kind. There was intent for skin, skin, and more skin in this, and you’d no sooner put your hand on the knot around your waist than he’d joined your fingers with his to pull what you hadn’t realized you’d tied so well. 

You shivered when it dropped to the floor, but stretched yourself out against his body when he wrapped his arms ever so carefully around your back. It was like despite having his tongue down your throat (don’t think about it, or you’ll laugh and ruin the moment, you reminded yourself), he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you or where he could put his hands. It was sweet -- funny, but sweet, and respectful in a way you hadn’t anticipated but could have, maybe, expected? He was only a man, and common decency was a low bar, but if the situation were reversed, you didn’t know if you’d think or be able to do the same. His arms were crossed over your back at his forearms, but you could sense his palms hovering out to the side even as kisses grew increasingly frantic with nicking teeth and off center meetings of your mouths. Focusing very hard on not losing those, you clumsily squeezed his bicep until he relinquished his hold a bit, but before he could finish his mumbled question, you grabbed his wrist and, without preamble, placed his hand on one of your breasts. 

Despite not wanting to lose the kisses -- they were good kisses, needed kisses, kisses you’d waited a long time for -- you both broke and stood there, nose to nose, chests heaving with his hand cupped over your breast. This was….

“S’different,” he rasped and you nodded. Not just friends, not just kissing. You ran your thumb along the back of his hand, over tendons that were struggling not to flex and to squeeze and feel. He must’ve taken the pause as hesitation, because he started to pull his hand away, but you shook your head and held his hand in place before bearing down on it with gentle pressure. 

“Ok,” you whispered breathlessly, nodding slightly, and when he kissed you again, he caught your chin, then your jaw, your neck -- all the way down -- and then across your shoulder. You were glad he was holding onto you when your head tipped back as he pulled the strap of your camisole to the side to sponge eager kisses any and everywhere you’d let him, because honestly? If he didn’t have his arm slanted between your shoulder blades, your legs would’ve crumpled from underneath you. 

As it was, you both nearly tripped on your robe when you moved backwards towards the bed, and you landed harder than he did. Your laughs were welcome in the moment, though, and did nothing to alter the mood, and you were still giggling when he resumed his kisses. They only quieted when he reached your chest, and for some inexplicable reason, you tried very hard not to breathe as his own and his lips and the tip of his nose dragged and tickled your skin, but when he slipped his fingers under your neckline to tug it down, there was no need to try at all. 

“Holy shit,” he uttered under his breath in faint disbelief. You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was in awe of you, before his lips were on your breasts, moving between them in a very careful, very attentive, almost laughably even way, like he didn’t want to miss anything. Your back arched slightly when he settled against you, body warm and mouth hot between your breasts as he nuzzled, kissed, licked, and sucked, taking his time to learn how they felt and what made you moan. As he explored, you did, too, if less so, but your hands found his hair, and petted his face, and ran up and down his shoulders, arms, and back. It was when his own reached between your legs that you clamped your thighs down over his wrist and he lifted up.

“Ok?” His eyes were dark and his hair mussed -- partially thanks to you -- and the pink flush in his cheeks had nothing on the color of his mouth. His forehead was damp and you belatedly realized your chest was, too, and you could feel yourself quivering with the heat of his hand pressed so intimately against you. 

“Yes.” You pressed your hand to his cheek and he turned into your wrist, breathing deeply and kissing your pulse point. 

“Is this…?” He swallowed. “I don’t-- we don’t have to do anything more, I only--” 

“No,” you rushed to say. “No, I just… wasn’t expecting--”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve--”

“It’s ok,” you said. “I’m ok. I want to, it just felt--” New, different, good, so fucking good, and it’d surprised you. 

“Sure?”

Wordlessly, you nodded, and forced your legs to open despite how tense with anticipation they were. You nodded again and let out a slow breath, but he watched you until your eyes closed and your body melted into the mattress. When he finally ran his thumb down your slit through your underwear, you clenched and bit your lip to muffle a sound, lips twitching. This felt… nice. Better than nice, this care and intention stoked something in you that you didn’t remember feeling since you were a frustrated and hormonal teenager raging out of control. He was going to fit the minutes and hours from days and months that had been squandered into every second of the twelve hours you had left, wasn’t he? 

Harry pressed his thumb into your clit and rubbed smooth, warm circles over it, and you touched the back of your hand to your mouth. “That’s good,” you mumbled, heartbeat quickening, face crumpling when he increased the pressure slightly. It was when he kissed your abdomen that you whimpered and pushed your hand into his hair, but he kept kissing along the waistband of your underwear, and your belly tensed when he took a deep breath. You weren’t quite aware of when or how he got them off you -- let alone how he’d managed to do so seamlessly and without awkward wriggles or kicks or knees to his face -- but you were very aware of when he finally had you spread open and he was on his stomach between your legs. You were very aware of how hot his breath was on your cunt, and you were very aware of the sound of that first delicate, velvety lick in dead silence. He got through three, maybe four, careful, languid strokes of his tongue in, with his eyes closed in steadfast concentration and his hair falling over his brow before he licked up your slit and finished it with your clit firmly suctioned into his mouth. 

Your jaw dropped in awe. “Oh my--!” His lips fluttered and your whole chest opened with your breath. “Ah…!” 

He groaned and your eyes watered, and you watched, unable to tear yourself away. He was ravenous -- eating you out like his life depended on it while simultaneously holding back and never giving or taking as much as either of you wanted. Each glide of his tongue was deep and smooth, and each suck hollowed his cheeks for only a moment. You whimpered and pulled your fingers through his hair uselessly to quell the jitters and need to do something. Every time you thought he was going to suckle for a little longer, a little harder, he’d break off abruptly and the inch you’d gained climbing would be erased by your backslide. You were sweating from the effort and duration it was taking -- your breasts and stomach had a sheen on them, and your thighs slipped against the side of his head. His roots were damp and hot, too, to the point where the air conditioner may as well have stopped working, but for all the world he looked like he’d never been happier or more content than he was to be eating your pussy. 

“H-Harry….” Your breath hitched, a muted cry caught in your throat when again he released the toe-curling suction too soon for it to matter. “Please, please,” you begged, fingers combing through his hair as your pelvis rolled under his mouth. “I can’t… I wanna cum.” Straight to the point, unable to wheedle or dance around the subject -- it wasn’t like he didn’t have his face pressed into your cunt right then or anything. “I wanna cum, I really--” 

His eyes, which had been closed up until that point, slowly opened and locked on you, darker than you thought you’d ever seen them. One of his hands unstuck itself from your thigh and he reached up your stomach and you clasped it in yours, fingers laced tightly with an almost crushing intensity between his as you nodded encouragingly, desperately, mouthing please, please to him. He shifted against the mattress, then, and, still holding your gaze and your hand, he puckered his lips.

The ugliest sound ripped from your chest, but you laughed in almost hysterical relief because he wasn’t stopping -- at long last, he wasn’t stopping, and the pressure and tension tickling your abdomen grew tighter, promising to live to its full potential. “Holy shit!” you breathed, smiling despite yourself. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum… you’re gonna make me cum, I’m-- oh!” 

You cried out when he pressed his mouth closer, rutting his face against you in a steady rhythm. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes were his, and you wheezed and whimpered your way through convulsions with their hunger burned into your eyes as you called out for him. You’d never felt an orgasm like this -- so thorough, deep, and full bodied, and entirely draining. 

“Fuck!” 

It wasn’t the guttural swear that made your eyes fly open even as the room spun, but the sensation of his teeth against your thigh. Not hard, but sharp, and when you looked at him you found his face screwed up against your leg, rutting against the mattress. Belatedly, your brain put the pieces together -- it wasn’t just his face in your cunt, it’d been his whole body, the whole time, driving himself against the bed in search of his own relief with his mouth full of you and your thigh when he wasn’t whimpering breathless apologies and confessions of how hard he was (“M’sorry-- oh, shit, m’so-- m’hard, m’sorry, love, m’so-- hurts, I just need--!”). He squeezed your thigh with bruising force, letting out keening moans as his shakes turned to shudders, and you knew he was finished when he let out a noise so deep your hair stood on end and he came to a sudden stop with his face still burrowed against your leg.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “F-fuck, s’so… sorry, that’s….” He pressed his forehead into your skin. “That was incredible,” he said, voice thick and unevenly pitched. “You were….” 

He picked his head up and wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose with his thumb before slipping it past his lips and sucking lightly, forehead lined in agony. With weak fingers, you tugged the back of his t-shirt, and he crawled on even weaker hands and knees up your body. It was a struggle to get it untucked from his trousers and even worse to get it off his torso from how damp it was, but eventually you did, and you threw it away with a whoosh and a thud. He kicked his worn in white Vans off his feet and they landed with a thunk off the side of the bed, and his trousers were next, and when they were gone, you flattened yourself against him, mouth on his shoulder and leg between his, desperately seeking skin on skin. 

“Alright?” He cupped the back of your head. “Ok?” You nodded and he kissed your forehead. “You’re ok,” he mumbled. “You’re good, honey.”

“Are you?” you asked against him. Because he couldn’t stop trembling -- his muscles kept jumping under your touch and his heart was giving its own big band performance in his chest. 

“L’be fine,” he said. “Be ok, just need… need a minute.” 

Gradually, his heart and yours both slowed and heavy breathing evened out. And the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes for good and slipped under was the time.

6:52. Ten and a half hours to go. 

[the-witty-pen-name]

Tell Me Your Mine, Darling

Western AU 

18+ ONLY

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

Warnings: prostitution, mentions of smut, alcohol, cursing, violence, mentions cheating 

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Hey! As always, this is unedited! Please let me know if I missed anything to include as a warning. I’m on the fence if I should make this a longer story, I like the idea of this being a stand alone, but let me know what you think! I’d love to hear any feedback cause this is my first attempt at a Western AU :)

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The player piano echoed throughout the whole saloon, bouncing off the walls as patrons moved about the crowded room. The peppy music was perfect for dancing as a few of the men threw back shots of liquid courage and asked some of the women working tonight for a dance. It was a night where the people who came in through the batwing doors could forget about their troubles and the existence of sins, and partake in merry drink and debauchery. The night air hung heavy and the room smelled of sweat, cheap liquor and even cheaper perfume. 

The women were scantily clad in dresses only slightly less revealing than their undergarments, and the men still in their clothes from long days of travel. Cowboy hats, rugged trousers, and boots that lost their shine years ago. Girls carried around large trays of shots and lagers, passing them around to the drunk souls who struck rich for a night and opened tabs at the bar. 

It was a busy night both downstairs in the saloon, but also many of the girls were leading men upstairs to their beds, for a warm place to lay their head and anything else they can afford. That was the secret that kept this dilapidated building up and running. The music and the watered down liquor wasn’t enough to keep the sheriff from closing and condemning the building. 

If the owner was honest, he knew what kept the sheriff from coming and toting him away to rot in one of the two cells down at the jail. Not only was the sheriff partial to a drink or a few each night after the sun goes down, but he was particularly taken with one of the girls who worked there. Sure, the sheriff must’ve had his turn with every girl in the joint, but there was something about you which made the sheriff absolutely smitten. Of course, no one dared admit to seeing his obviously growing affections but the owner knew as long as you were here, and his glass was refilled, he had nothing to worry about. No one quite knows what happened. He went from coming in every Saturday night asking for whichever girl is free and then it went to asking only for you, every week without fail. 

People theorize that maybe it’s your honeyed smile or the sweetness in your voice. The ability to deceive every man into thinking they’re the only one to ever touch you. The ability to put on the act of the farmer’s daughter while having the dirtiest mouth on this side of the Mississippi. No matter what drew him in, the sheriff had declared you his girl and anyone with half a brain knew better than to try to say different. 

Nothing was any different about tonight, you watched from one of the stools at the bar while the other girls worked the room. Sitting with your legs crossed, your dress skirted up high enough to show the tops of your garters, you sip on your drink stealing glances at the doors waiting for him to arrive. You can’t help but let out an impatient sigh, balancing your high heel on your toe as you watch the clock that’s mounted on the wall behind the bar. 

“Slow night?” the bartender asked as she topped off your drink. You smiled, but it fell a little flat, not meeting your eyes. 

“Every man here is scared to come near me,” you chuckle dryly. Not that you were necessarily complaining- but you worried more and more as the savings you kept under your bed dwindled. The sheriff was a regular who paid incredibly well, but he was feared. And no one else would touch what he called his. You wanted to save up to get out of this town, salvage whatever was left of this life and do something. You didn’t want to live cooped up in that room and in this town for the rest of your days. You were luckier than most, that you understood and never tried to forget that, but still you found yourself daydreaming. 

You thought about the men you’ve slept beside and the wild stories they told you. You didn’t want to live a hard life, the tedious and unfulfilling work they told you about. But, oh, you were so envious of how they traveled. Seeing the naked lands of the country and going to different towns. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to do, but you wanted to have the option. So in a little cigar box under your bed. You scrimped and saved what you could from each week. But, being the sheriff’s favorite girl, meant no one else dared touch you, meaning you have been having to open that little box of savings more and more. 

“That ain’t the worst thing in the world,” you heard a voice next to you. Soft, and velvety- you’d recognize the voice anywhere as Dottie, one of the older women who had been working there much longer than you. Middle-aged, but completely sensual in her mannerisms and her voice. She had the ability to captivate an entire room with her prominent curves and everything you know, you learned from her. 

“I know, I know,” you try to explain, but she feels your frustration. She understands it, and she knows it better than you do. She’d been there herself. The restlessness, the feeling of being incomplete, the utter fear of your life being wasted away under men whom you’re never going to fall in love with. She knows.

But she also knows the harsh realities of this world and how it treats lost souls like you, and she doesn’t want to see how it can hurt you like it hurt her. She understood how demeaning this line of work is, and how from here there is no way to move up in the world. It’s a limbo, where you're stuck in this saloon, listening to the complaints of men who despite their hardships will always have it better than you. However, the alternatives for women like you are far less desirable outcomes for your lives. 

“Appreciate the gift you’re being given, sweetness,” she chuckles, watching as the bartender makes her usual. “As long as that sheriff keeps coming around, you’re working less for the same room and board the rest of us pay.” 

You know she’s right. You know there’s so many things wrong about this town you can’t change. You can’t afford to worry about things like that, while so many of the people in this little one room saloon are just trying to survive tomorrow. It’s never going to be an ideal, and the world is much too cruel for miracles to happen for a woman like you who sold their soul. 

Jesus befriended Mary Magdalene, so it never made much sense to you when folks in this town claimed you were damned to spend your own eternity in hell. You weren’t sure if the people in this town actually read the Bible. Granted, you didn’t know much about religion yourself. But long ago you learned religion was a luxury only the wealthy people in this town could afford to follow, and they were the ones who could afford to participate in the sins you peddled. But, that was just one woman’s observation. 

Dottie disappeared back into the crowd as quickly as she arrived, and soon you were back to watching the doors again, waiting for the sheriff to relieve you of your ever growing boredom. The place was in full swing as a posse of men you don’t recognize entered, talking about how they were on their way to the coast, to mine for gold and become millionaires. You can’t help but roll your eyes, and you keep to yourself as they whoop and holler, making demands of the barkeep to send out a round for the whole place on their dime. Their rowdiness makes you flinch, and for the first time tonight, you find yourself anxiously waiting for the appearance of the sheriff so you don’t have to entertain the likes of them. Maybe God does like you, because before one of the men staring at you has an opportunity to saunter over, the saloon doors open suddenly and you can be saved. 

You know you shouldn’t find it thrilling, but there is something about being his favorite that fuels your ego on nights like this. The most commanding man in the town, calling you his- making you have this untouchable status for the night. It was the closest you think you can ever be to royalty. In that bar, on the nights he regulars, you’re a Queen. It’s a rush that's definitely spoiled you and yes, in the moment, you absolutely revel in the power you feel as he changes the atmosphere in the room- with his hardened blue eyes locked right on you. 

“Evening, sheriff,” you coo and shoot him a smile, genuinely happy to see him. 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Lee, darling?” He smirks, placing his hands on your knee so you uncross your legs and he can stand between them. The feeling of his hands on the exposed skin of your upper thighs sent a tingle right up your spine. His thumbs slowly rubbed circles on your skin, making you shiver. 

You rest your hands on his chest, rubbing gently, your hands shamelessly feeling the strength of his chest under his shirt. You straighten out the gold sheriff’s badge on his chest, and you can feel him tremble slightly at your touch, which strokes your ego more than it already was. 

“I forget,” you tease, straightening out his tie. He smirks, looking down at you as his hands trail up higher, resting on your hips under the skirt of your dress. “I need you to keep coming back and remind me,” you flirt shamelessly. 

“Your usual, sheriff?” the bartender asks over the loud music, people settling back into their own business after the excitement of the sheriff arriving has died down. Lee replies with a quick thank you but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“Did you miss me, darling?” he quips, rubbing your sides, his thumbs trailing across the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I always do,” you wink, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to the side of his jaw. “It’s so slow when you aren’t here,” you practically whine, pouting your lips slightly. 

“I’m sorry about that, sugar,” he mumbles, leaning in and trailing kisses down your neck. 

“It’s your fault you know,” you tease, your nails scratching his scalp affectionately. 

“Is it now?” he chuckles, as he nips at your skin. 

“No one else comes near me,” you admit, and you feel him smile against your skin. 

“Good,” he murmurs against your collarbone. 

“Ice is melting,” you chuckle, referring to the drink he’s ignoring on the counter. He just chuckles, pulling away only long enough to finish the drink in one long sip, and you watch as his Adam’s apple moves, and how the condensation of the glass drips onto his knuckles. 

After he places the empty glass on the counter, you pull his arm to lead him upstairs with you. He takes your hand and let’s you lead the way, he knows like the back of his hand, and at this point better than his own house.

“Impatient, darling?” he teases, “Not going to ask me for a dance?”

“You never say yes,” you giggle, “Figured you want to have some privacy.”

“I might’ve said yes,” he retorts and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Would you have?” you counter and he shakes his head no with a devilish grin. 

“One of these days, doll.” 

“I’ll be an old maid,” you joke, continuing up the stairs and down the hallway towards your room. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he says. You don’t know exactly what he means, but you don’t push him for an explanation. As soon as the door clicks closed behind you both, Lee’s lips attach to yours like if he waits a second longer he’d evaporate. 

“Been dreaming about this,” he mumbles against your neck, leaving a trail of love bites that send a shiver up your spine. “Think about you every night I can’t visit you.”

You noticed how much more intimate your interactions with the Sheriff were gradually becoming. You weren’t sure how much of it he meant. The way he fawned over you and treated you like something more. Plenty of times, men behaved this way, never admitting except behind closed doors that that craved a much deeper sense of intimacy. You had always assumed the Sheriff was no different.

He’d take care of you, and you saw over time the way he handled you changed. It used to be rough and impersonal, oftentimes as well relying on you to do all the work so to speak. But, overtime, his visits became more of a mutual endeavor, and soon he was kissing you like how he is now, or begging to let him settle his head between your parted thighs, saying he felt good making you feel good. 

“I’m addicted to the feeling of your skin, darling,” he whispers as he lets his fingers linger as he pulls the straps of the dress down your arms. When the dress pools at your feet, he stares in awe like it’s the first time seeing you, and then soon enough his lips are on yours again and his hands are free to wander where they please. 

“Most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers as you work on taking off his shirt, teasingly slow at undoing the buttons. 

“You say that everytime,” you point out and he chuckles, running his hands up and down your sides. 

“Cause I mean it everytime,” he smirks, walking you back until the back of your knees hit the back of your bed and you lay down with him on top of you. 

One time a month or so back, you were sitting on top of the bar counter with him settled between your legs. You were using a rag to wipe blood off of his face after a messy fight that happened. Well, a fight that he started. 

“I didn’t like him looking at you like that,” he grumbled, still fuming and he winces slightly as you press the damp cloth to the cut by his brow. “Shouldn’t be touching you like that,” he slurs, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“Just means I’m doing my job right,” you chuckle, amused at his possessiveness. “It don’t mean nothing,” you say.

“It don’t mean nothing when it’s me either,” he pouts, with his eyes closed like he could fall asleep standing up. You are convinced he’s just drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying. He leans on you slightly to keep himself upright, and you move to wipe the blood that is smeared by the corner of his lips. 

He’s so handsome, you can’t help but observe. From a distance, sure he’s gruff and rough around the edges but he’s got the most handsome face you think you’ve ever seen pass through. You’ll never admit to yourself that you were taking your time patching him up so you could just look at him like this for a little longer. It’s always nice sometimes to pretend a situation is something that it’s not. 

“Tell me your mine, darling,” he almost whispers when his eyes flutter open again to look at you. His gaze on you felt heavy and you weren’t sure what to make of it. 

“I’m all yours, Sheriff,” you can’t help but chuckle, thinking he’s just fooling. Just trying to tease you. He frowns and looks so  sad, those damn blue eyes more expressive when he’s drunk. 

“Tell me your mine,” he asks again, like a whispered plea as his eyes roam over your face. 

“I’m yours.”

By the morning, he’s always gone. He always leaves more than necessary, insisting to you the night before not to tell the owner. He doesn’t want him taking a bigger percentage. He whispers not to worry, and to let him take care of you. He knows how much he affects your wages and he wants to do the right thing. 

Lee doesn’t like to pay you. It’s a horrible reminder to him that you don’t actually care one way or another if he shows up or not. It’s the terrible wake up call come morning that you aren’t actually his, as much as he asks you to say it. 

You’d just have to say the word and he’d do just about anything to make you love him back for real. But he knows that this can’t ever go further. You deserve to go off and see the places he hears you tell the other girls about. You don’t think he knows about you wanting to leave but of course he does. 

The pictures of far away cities are hung on your mirror held up between the frame and the glass. There’s a picture of New York that sometimes he’ll stay up staring at, knowing your heart ain’t tied down yet to one place like his is tied here. He can’t leave and he knows he can’t in good conscience ask you to stay. He knows you would, but not for the reasons he wants. 

Good god, you’re still young and have a spark in you that he damn well knows he doesn’t want to be the one to put out. He wants nothing more than for you to look at him and see you could be happy and be in love. But what life is that compared to the life you’re dreaming of. You have hopes, dreams, and Lee knows he isn’t at the center of any of them. 

So for now, he settles for the time you share with him when he comes by like tonight. Where he hopes he can silently tell you with his touches how much he feels for you. Where he can carefully tread the waters of sweet sentiments in hopes you’ll return them without him asking. It’s not real, none of it is. 

He can hold you close and touch every part of your body like it’s only his to see and feel. He can hear every noise you make and watch every reaction to his touches and it fuels him for now. It’s enough for now to leave bruises on your skin and pretend it’s enough to keep others from knowing you’re his. It’s not, because the marks won’t matter. 

He can feel himself inside you, and feel how your body reacts to him. The way to him, nothing will ever come close to the feeling of you around him. He’s addicted and he can’t go back. He’s been ruined by you, and no one else will ever come close to adding up to you. 

But it’s not real. He’ll go home in the morning, and lie to his wife one more time, swearing that it’s the last time he goes back. He’ll tell her he worked late and slept in the Sheriff’s office. He’ll make the promise that he’ll be home on the weekend. But it’s not real. Because, he knows that he’s going to find himself going back to you. And he prays to God you won’t be there.

Taglist:

@missyellowbirdie @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @weenersoldierr @msgodofmischief @lowercasegenius @demirunner​

[sunshineseung]

Paperwork // Hyunjin

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ only) ☁️ | pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.1k 🌸 | includes: switch-dom!hyunjin, switch-sub!reader, oral (both receiving), PIV riding, pet names, begging, kinda goofy at first, cum swallowing, “sir”, a lil bit more but not too much

☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been working at this office for five painstakingly long years, but despite your best efforts, you never get a raise or promotion. When the CEO retires, his son takes his place, and seeing as you’re around the same age as his son, this could be your chance to get ahead. 

🌊 | If you want to skip to the smut, look for the [🔥] because there’s a lot of set up for this one, but I know some people just want to get off lol.

He has finally stepped down. After 60 long, long years, the CEO of the company you work at has retired, as if he didn’t have enough money to retire 30 years ago.

The amount of times you’ve been told off by that man is practically uncountable. It felt like at one point you were going into his office every week to ask for any sort of promotion, raise, or even kudos, but every time, he turned up his nose and shooed you away like some kind of stray cat. You’ve worked too long and too hard to not be given proper treatment. Despite everything, you stay at the company, knowing no where else in the city will pay nearly as well.

The company now belongs to his oldest son, Hyunjin. He’s never worked in this office, yet the old man still thought it would be appropriate for him to run the entire company (supervised by a few HRs, of course). Hyunjin looked like a complete fool trying to command the floors of burnt out office workers just trying to pay next month’s rent and put food on their tables, not that he would know what it’s like to work for anything. The first job he’s ever had and it’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, who would have thought?

This is your chance. He’s right around your age, give or take a few months, and he seems marginally more friendly than his father. If you were ever going to climb the corporate ladder to finally move out of your studio apartment, it was right now.

Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt you own with the perfect button up to match, you step into his office after scheduling a meeting with his temporary secretary. When you sit down in the chair across from him, he just sighs and waits for you to speak your piece so he can get back to his grueling job of signing documents that he never reads.

“Good morning, sir. I was just coming up here to compliment you on how well you’ve been running the place since your father stepped down. It seems like company morale is at an all time high, and I can’t imagine thanking anyone other than you.”

“So you want a promotion, right?” He scoffs, grabbing a pen to click repeatedly as you struggle coming up with a response. You weren’t expecting him to be so quick on his feet considering he would stutter over every word talking at meetings. “I assume you didn’t come in here just to kiss my ass.”

“Alright, you caught me, but can I at least make my case?” He looks up from the pen to wordlessly incite you to keep talking. “I’ve been working here since I got out of college. This is really my dream, and it would mean the world to me if I could get farther, work harder, and, if you’re feeling so inclined, get a bit of a paycheck raise.”

“Well, you caught me on the right day, miss...”

“L/n. But you can call me Y/n if you want.”

“Y/n.” Hyunjin puts the pen down and leans on his desk, elbows propping himself up. “If you’re up for the task, I am looking for a new secretary.”

“As I’ve heard.” The rumor has been going around that his father left his secretary for Hyunjin, but all they’ve been doing if fighting, so they had to bring in a temporary one, the one you spoke with, to hold him off until Hyunjin finds a secretary he likes. “Not to be rude, but wouldn’t you rather have a male secretary like your father had?”

“No, no. I know what I want.” He runs his hand through his black hair, slipping out the ponytail that was holding the long strands out of his face. “I want you to be my secretary. No one else.”

He drags his fingers through a stack of papers on his desk, stopping at a five page contract booklet. He slides you the papers and the pen he was just fiddling with.

“If you really want this promotion, you’ll sign on that dotted line right now.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Working for Hyunjin wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Once he warms up to you, he’s actually really sweet. If you mess up his coffee or misscedule a meeting, he doesn’t fire you immediately, but rather just assures you that it’s okay and you’ll do better next time, a total 180 from what you saw that first time in his office. After a few weeks, you’re a dream to work with, and the job is a lot less stressful than you had assumed.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was beyond stressed. Meeting after meeting, signature after signature, decision after decision: it was all too much. The only time he smiled was when you brought him coffee in the morning, or when he’d hear your voice through the phone. He always looked forward to seeing you, even if it was only for a brief minute. You were really the only thing keeping his sanity together.

“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You put the cup on his desk as he reads a random document. He thanks you, as usual, and takes a quick sip before immediately regretting his decision when he felt his tongue begin to burn. You quick go to his mini-fridge and pass him a water bottle, standing back as he gulps half of it down to relieve at least some of the pain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get that hot!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” He sits back in his chair and slowly turns to you, meeting your eyes in a light-hearted stare. He laughs before finally speaking again. “You’re holding this company together, you know that?”

You laugh right with him, rolling your eyes at his statement. “Oh please, I just forward emails all day.”

“No, I mean it.” He holds his hands out and grabs yours, interlocking your hands in a soft grip. You could easily move back, but you don’t want to. “Without you, I’d be losing my mind.”

“Aw, you’re too kind.” You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. The silence isn’t awkward by any means, but you can’t help but wonder why you’re holding the hands of your boss. “You’re doing very well, though. You have some big shoes to fill, and I feel like you’re doing the best you can.”

“Of course you’d say that. You work for me.” Hyunjin lets go of your hands and leans back in his chair again, crossing one of his legs over the other and lazily putting his hands behind his head, lounging back. “Y/n, can I say something crazy?”

“Say whatever’s on your mind, sir. I’m all ears.”

“Ugh, drop the formalities. Just call me Hyunjin, okay?” You nod, letting him continue with his speech. “I really appreciate you, Y/n, and it’s no secret that my family is loaded, so I want to ask if you’d come live with me downtown.”

“W-what?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head. Living with your boss sounds absolutely insane, but any chance to get out of your shitty apartment is promising. This is the opportunity of a life time, no doubt, but is it worth taking? “Sir, I...”

“For fuck’s sake, call me Hyunjin.” You’ve never heard him curse before. “Listen, I live in a penthouse on the top story of a high-security luxury apartment complex. I’m all alone in a five bedroom apartment with a full view of the town. Going home alone every night is wearing on me, and it would mean a lot to have someone else there, even just to talk to.”

“I need time to think.” You look anywhere but his eyes as he leans forward and looks up at you from his chair.

“Take your time and think it over. I’ll give you until the end of the day.” Hyunjin turns back to his desk and looks at the paper he was reading before he burnt his tongue. “Go back to your office for now, but right after your shift, I want you here.”

“Yes, s-... okay, Hyunjin.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Everyone is gone except you, finalizing one last email before heading up to Hyunjin’s office. An office with no workers is eerie to say the least, and as you take the elevator up to Hyunjin’s office, you can’t help but notice how nervous you feel inside.

This is the right decision. As difficult as it might be, you’re going to say no to his offer. It’s extremely unprofessional to have any sort of out-of-work relationship with your boss. Thinking back to the outfit you wore when you took the promotion, it’s no wonder you assume you’ve made Hyunjin think you want this. Your apartment may be shitty, but at least it’s yours. Living with Hyunjin would cause too many problems in your life, and the last thing you need right now is problems.

He was waiting for you. With his head in his hands as you walk through the door, he darts his attention to you as you sit across from him. While it was certainly a familiar sight by now, he was just glad you didn’t run away from him after such an intense morning.

“Hyunjin, I just want to-”

“Stop.” He holds his hand up, pausing you mid-sentence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m just stressed, and I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have offered you to live with me. That’s not who I am, nor is that something I should have sprung on you like that.” He reverts back to his former position with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. “I just... I’m so lonely.”

You feel for him, you really do. He’s been thrown into this situation obviously not by choice, and he knows absolutely no one he’s working with other than you. With a stressful job and no one to turn to, it was clear why he was acting so rashly.

You pull his hands away from his head, holding them in yours like you did this morning. Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, you give him a gentle smile as he meets your eyes. The bags under his eyes are present, and his tiredness is visible. He looks so worn out to you. You really do feel bad.

“I’m not asking you to move in, but would you like to come back to my penthouse? Just for tonight?” He returns a smile to you, lowering his gaze blankly. “We can have a few drinks and talk. I just need someone with me right now.”

“Only if you’re paying for the taxi.” You two laugh together, appreciating each other’s presence.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drive us back to my place, and afterwards, he can drive you home.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Saying that Hyunjin’s apartment was massive would be an understatement. You felt like you walked into a penthouse from a dystopian future with shiny metal counter tops and black leather furniture. It didn’t look lived in, but to be fair, there was only one man living there. You felt cold even though it was room-temperature. 

“Follow me, doll.” Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you to the living room to sit on his L-shaped couch. If his pet name didn’t throw you off, you very well would have just walked there without his assistance, but you didn’t know how to react after being called ‘doll’ by your boss. “Want anything to drink? Wine? Vodka?”

“I’ll take wine, thank you.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

Hyunjin pours you both a glass and meets you back on the couch, lounging next to you, letting the soft silence fall over the room as you each take a sip of the expensive booze. As you drink a bit more, Hyunjin’s eyes are glued to you, and you start to break a sweat as the temperature in the room seems to rise. He’s just... staring at you. You feel uneasy, but this alcohol should help calm your nerves, right?

Hyunjin easily notices that you’re starting to slip into deeper thought, so he carefully puts his hand on your knee to bring you back into the moment. His gesture isn’t charged in anyway, but you still jolt at his touch. You dart your eyes towards his while looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin slides his hand up and down your leg only from your knee to mid-thigh. With his other hand, he puts his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of you so he can totally focus on your needs. Even though you hesitantly nod, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “You want to know why I invited you here?”

“Sure, Hyunjin. Why did you invite me here?” The more he rambles on, the less you have to talk, so you gladly let him fill the silence. 

“Well, to put it simply, I’m interested in you.” You tilt your head in confusion. Was this a confession? “You’re a very intriguing person to me. When you walked into my office for the first time, you suffocated me with your aura. You truly do command a room, you know? That’s probably why you’ve gotten so far in your career.” His chuckle is awkward, and you don’t respond in any way to help his nerves. “You’re a woman that knows what she wants, and I admire that, especially since I don’t even know what I want.”

“How don’t you know what you want?” Your confidence was slowly coming back, although you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or your want to pick at Hyunjin’s brain. “You have everything anyone could ever want! Look at where you live!” You gesture to the room around you. The modern art-deco custom paintings, the abstract sculptures, the fake plants that looked too fake to even be considered plant-like. It was a dream, especially for those that lived in the city. “You have the perfect house and the job position people can only dream of.”

“I don’t want this, Y/n.” He stands from the couch, walking over to the wall of glass that separates the living room from the balcony. “This house means nothing. This job position means nothing.” He can’t face you, fearful that you’ll see how weak he is. “I want someone. I want you.”

Silence. You stare down at your legs, unable to even process what Hyunjin just said. Your thumbs rub against each other, fiddling so you can focus on anything else. Hyunjin sighs loudly and turns around, walking back over so he can tower over you. His shadow consumes you, shrouding your figure in slight darkness. A hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to see him. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you as if he’s enamored by your existence. 

“What do I have to do?” Hyunjin ponders, leaning in closer to you. The scent of his cologne clogs your senses, and all you can think about is Hwang Hyunjin. “What do I have to do to have you?”

Your hand goes to his chest, grabbing his tie. You pull him into you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Hyunjin puts all of his emotion into this kiss, promising himself that he’ll show his love through his actions. 

Pulling away, you both catch your breath and enjoy the brief silence. For once, it isn’t awkward; the silence is welcomed. 

“Hyunjin,” you twirl his tie between your fingers, “if you want me, then prove it.” 

[🔥]

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, pulling you off the couch. He drags you up to his bedroom without saying a word, assuming you know what’s about to happen. His sheets are all black, neatly made without a stain in sight. Hyunjin sits on the edge of the bed, tapping on his lap to invite you to take a seat. 

You straddle him, feeling heated the second your thighs come in contact with his. It feels unreal, but you want this now more than ever. You didn’t drink even an entire glass of wine, so you can’t blame this decision on any ounce of alcohol. 

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” He wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you into him so your body is pressed against his. “I need to hear you say you want this.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure I want this.” You shoot him a smile that never fails to make his heart melt, and he can’t help but kiss you again, his lips perfectly fitting against yours. When you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, he feels like he has reached nirvana. Hyunjin was been wanting this for so god damn long; he could bust in his pants just thinking about it. 

His mouth moves from your lips to your jawline, not leaving any hickeys because he knows you have work tomorrow. His kisses along your jaw and neck make you moan quietly, and your hands slip behind his head into his hair. You curl your fingers into his hair, pulling it ever so slightly. He grunts against your neck, sucking harder than before, accidentally leaving a red mark. 

He pulls off of your throat, breathing heavily, looking into your half-lidded eyes. Your hands rest on the back of his neck, holding him close to you. Hyunjin smiles lightly and pecks your cheek, making you both giggle from his cute gesture. 

“I know I told you not to call me sir, but... maybe just for tonight, you can call me that.” Oh, he’s like that? You kiss him for a moment before pushing him back, his body falling against the sheets. Your body hovers over his, and you roam your hands over his chest and abs, feeling him from over his shirt.

“Alright, sir.” You smile innocently, leaning down, kissing his neck to test his dominance. He doesn’t fuss at this. He accepts your kisses, throwing his head back to give you better access to kiss his neck. Your hands roam all over his body, paying special attention to his chest, or more specifically, his nipples. He groans quietly, biting his lips as your fingers rolls over his nipples. “Oh, you like this?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sit up. Let me take your shirt off.” He laughs at your commands as he raises his body from the bed and unbuttons the top of his shirt before you step in and unbutton the rest. The slow reveal of his torso his haunting, causing your eyes to dart every which way across his body. He really looks like a Greek god. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” 

“Oh please, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, doll.” There it was again. That damn pet name. He really was going to be the death of you, so you might as well enjoy this. “I’ve had dreams of bending you over my desk and fucking you during work, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?” 

You gulp out of nervousness, unsure of where to go from here. You were in control for the moment, but now that Hyunjin was letting his emotions out, you keep getting flustered, wishing he would take the reigns over this situation. 

“Aw, is my little doll getting shy?” He brushes his hand across your hot cheek, making you stutter out nonsense. “You’re so cute, baby. I could flip you over and ruin you right now, but we should take our time, right?” 

You nod, tracing your hands on his chest again. Your thumb and pointer finger grip his nipples and twist, causing him to arch his back and fall against the bed once again. He’s putty in your hands again, so you up the ante by pressing your heat against his painfully large bulge in his tight work pants, teasing him just enough to make him weak. The sounds he’s making can only be described as sinful, and you love every minute of it.

You dive your head down to his chest, sucking hickeys into his defined pecs. Your tongue around his nipples makes him keen from pleasure, his hands petting your back up and down. When you lean up to look at all the marks you’ve made, he’s desperately trying to catch his breath. 

“I was supposed to be showing you how much I like you, not the other way around!” He giggles through deep breaths, running his hands down the sides of your body. “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You shrug in agreement, dramatically throwing your body back on the mattress for Hyunjin to pin you down under his lean figure. His gaze eats you alive, skimming over your skin like he was about to devour you. 

“You’re absolutely stunning, baby.” He kisses you on the lips, short and sweet, before unbuttoning your dress shirt and revealing your bra, feeling your tits over the fabric. His hands perfectly cup your tits, moving your bra down to play with your hardened nipples. You arch your back into his touch, relaxing and letting him worship your chest. He’s a master with his hands, making you moan and whine just enough for him to get even harder under his tight pants. “Can I take your bra off?”

“Of course, sir. Take it all off for me, alright?” You wink up at him, stirring a fire in his heart. He wants to take you, all of you, inciting him to rapidly strip you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. His lips attach to one of your nipples while his hand goes to the other, playing with the bud between his fingers. His other hand snakes down your body and unbuttons your pants, sneaking down to play with your cunt over your panties. His middle finger pushes your panties into your pussy, saturating them with your wetness. “Please finger me, Hyunjin.”

“Oh, needy already?” He leans up from your chest, sitting between your spread legs as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down enough to see his bulge under his tight boxers. He looked so big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. Your cunt becomes drentched in a second of you imagining his cock going inside you. “Staring isn’t polite, you know?”

“S-sorry, sir.” He pulls your pants down your legs, leaving your panties to be the only thing covering you. His hands hug your hips, pulling you right up to him. You feel his bulge against your cunt, making you bite your lip.

One of Hyunjin’s big hands comes down to your cunt, a finger hooking around the bottom of your panties to move them to the side, allowing him to check out your sopping heat. His fingers feather through your folds, circling your needy hole just to tease you. He smiles as you whine and buck your hips up, physically begging him to fuck you dumb.

“My baby’s pussy looks so pretty. I can’t possibly fuck her before I get a taste.” You watch Hyunjin as he scoots down the bed and leans down to be eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before diving in, sucking on your clit and running his tongue through your pussy. One arm hooks around your leg while his other comes up to play with your pussy, his fingers teasing your hole before sliding in just enough to make you whine for more. “You’re so sweet, princess.”

“T-Thank you, sir.” You throw your head back when he bends his fingers inside you, curling into your g-spot. Hyunjin hums as you moan loudly, hinting to Hyunjin that you’re close. “C-cum, sir. Need to cum.”

“Aw, my baby’s ready to cum?” Hyunjin teases, going right back to sucking on your clit and mercilessly fingering your tight hole with two fingers. His tongue flicking over your clit is making you so close, your legs shaking as he continues to assault your cunt. “Cum on my fingers, babe.”

Your legs violently shake as you reach your orgasm, all your nerves on edge as waves of pleasure drown your brain. You moan Hyunjin’s name over and over, holding his hair in an iron grip. As you come down, his mouth slowly detaches from your pussy, fully lapping up all your juices.

“Open your mouth.” With your eyes still closed, you open your mouth wide open and let your tongue out, letting Hyunjin do whatever he wants to your mouth. His wet fingers dip into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you taste your cunt. You suck lightly on his fingers, tasting yourself before he slips his hand out of your mouth, separating his spit-coated fingers to admire your hard work. “Good girl.”

Your eyes goes back down, staring at the outline of his cock in his boxers. He notices your stare, pulling his waistband down to reveal his long, thick cock, leaking with precum, ready to be stuffed inside you. “W-wanna feel you inside me~”

“Aw, but baby, I’ve fucked you dumb just from my fingers. You think you can handle my cock?” He presses the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing it in just enough to make you whine loudly. He smiles, seeing how fucked out you are so easily. He leans down to your ear, holding your hips in his hands. “Do you really want it?”

His voice is so deep and quiet that it makes you shiver, biting your lips before you can even speak. You breath for a moment to collect yourself. “Yes, sir. I want it.”

“Alright, baby.” Hyunjin gives you a peck on your lips before laying next to you, putting his hands behind his head. You look over at him puzzled, still collecting your breath. “Ride me.”

Hyunjin takes a condom out of his nightstand while you whine and breath more, trying to bring back any feeling to your legs. You regain your strength as he rolls the comdom onto his thick shaft.

You huff and sit up, wobbling before getting balanced on the soft bed. You finally pull off your panties before straddling him. Hyunjin throws his head back as you start to jerk his cock, feeling him twitch in your palm. With your free hand, you pull his pants down more to let you comfortably straddle his hips. As you lower yourself into him, you both groan loudly, you from the stretch and him from the tightness.

Hyunjin’s hands hold tightly onto your waist as you fully lower onto him, halting your movements to allow your cunt to adjust to his size. He bites his lip and stares at your face, admiring your beauty despite your messy hair and sweaty forehead. You slowly raise your hips, gripping Hyunjin’s cock with your cunt as you lower back down.

“You’re so tight, baby- fuck.” Hyunjin’s groans are loud as hell, echoing through the bedroom as you ride him, establishing a slow pace. You feel so full, his tip reaching deep inside you, and you love it. The stretch doesn’t bother you anymore, speeding up slightly. He watches your tits bounce on your chest, teasing him with their perky nipples and forming hickeys.

“Is sir close?” You feel him switch inside you at your question, his eyes squeezing shut as he nods and whines. His grip on your waist looses before his hands fall next to his head. You lean down and pin his wrists to the bed with your hands. Having your tits right in his face makes it even harder to keep his cool.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hips buck into you, fucking up into your tight cunt while you force yourself to stay still so he can let out his energy... and your legs were getting tired. He hits your spot with every thrust, desperately fucking you so he can release into the condom. You feel him inside you, his cum ballooning the tip of the condom, making you moan as he whines, saying your name like a mantra. He looks so hot under you, you can’t help but lean down and kiss his pretty, plump lips while he sits inside you.

“I thought I could last longer.” Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow as he pulls out of you, pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it towards his trash can. “You really know how to break me.”

He doesn’t realize that you’re still on top of him, moving down the bed to take his cock into your mouth. He winces when your hot tongue hits the tip of his cock. You lick up his shaft before taking him into your mouth, testing your gag reflex as you take him down your throat, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hands find home in your hair, pulling tightly as you bob your head on his member.

He’s totally speechless, his brain empty as you suck his cock like a pro. Your tongue feels like heaven on Earth, quickly making him fully hard again and bringing him close to another orgasm. He’s never been over stimulated like this before, whining like a cat in heat as he watches his cock disappear down your throat. You stare up at him, keeping eye contact even if he doesn’t look at you.

He twitches in your mouth, his cock spawning against your tongue as you increase the pace. He bites his lip harsh enough to draw blood as he cums again, your head raising so only the tip is in your mouth while one hand jerks his cock, milking him dry. His vision is fuzzy, mind even foggier. He can’t believe you just did that without a word.

You swallow his cum, wiping the drool off of your chin as you hop up and lay next to him, nuzzling into his chest. He puts an arm around you while you two cuddle in silence.

“You’re really good at that, Y/n.” He huffs, smiling as he looks down at you who’s drifting off to sleep. “Are you gonna sleep over?”

“I was hoping I could. And who knows? Maybe we can fuck in the morning before going to work.”

“Fuck, work.” Hyunjin sighs loudly before groaning from the reminder of all of his stress. “This won’t change our relationship ship at the office, will it?”

“Not publicly, no, but if you ever need to releive some stress during the day, just invite me up to your office and I’d be happy to help you, sir.” You both laugh, finally at ease in each other’s arms. As you drift to sleep, you can’t help but be excited for the proceeding weeks at your work.

This is exactly the raise you needed.

[greensaplinggrace]

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

[sdvharveybby]

How the Bachelors handle farm work

So, I got the inspiration of this from the parking lot of Walmart. Don’t ask- I don’t know.

Also, these are hella long but I just LOVED writing this. I really did- they all are just so cute. I hope y’all enjoy reading this!!

 Alex

Ever just wanted to move a straight up cow? Then boy do I have the man for you!!

Honestly, because Alex trains so much he has the stamina and strength of a bull. He will help you move anything you need him to for as long as you need him too. Hay bales? He’s got it. You need help hoeing, planting seeds, and watering? Literally no problem. Because he hasn’t been so big on book learning- he loves learning through his physical strength. He loves when you teach him the basics of crop growing and how to properly take care of animals, and once you teach him- you can just let him run wild. He’ll then realize how physically stressing your job is and will soon put ‘working on the farm’ as part of his regiment. (Plus seeing him chop down trees shirtless isn’t such a bad sight, heh heh.)

You soon realize that he just loves all the cows. He moo’s back to tease them almost all the time, but genuinely enjoys feeding them and giving them pats on the head. His favorite way of showing off to you is going, “Hey, honey!” when you turn around, you’re always surprised to see him just holding a calf in his arms. His beaming smile makes your heart flutter.

Alex is always willingly to help you out on the farm in any way he can- sometimes you don’t know if it’s because he loves you or it’s because he thinks of it as training. With time though, you see that it’s actually both. He loves when you ask him for help because he enjoys knowing that you depend on him too and showing off his muscles in some way just makes him smile. He loves making you laugh, so while you take care of the chickens- he likes to make funny voices for the cows.

His constant help on the farm and his drive to make you laugh, has you loving him even more.

Sam

Sam doesn’t know a whole lot about farming, but he absolutely loves working with the animals. I’d imagine goats would be his favorite because they’re just so weird. I mean, he’s fascinated by the fact that they just want to eat everything in sight- soley because they can and that they don’t know any better.

Another reason Sam loves working with the animals is that once he realizes they’re safe and relatively easy to handle- he brings Vincent along to show him how to pet and take care of the animals. Sometimes you’ll see Penny, Vincent, and Jas on a field trip to the farm so that Sam can actually be a guide to them (of course Jas also gets the opportunity of showing off what she knows since she lives on a farm herself.)

There is nothing more wholesome than seeing Sam’s goofy smile when working with the kids. He loves feeling like he’s a part of the children’s lives and enjoys teaching them lifelong lessons.

Although… Seeing him fighting the goats as they try and eat his shirt is one of the funniest parts of your day. You can’t help but laugh as you watch him tell the goats to, “F*CK OFF!” (only sometimes do you actually help him.)

Sebastian

Sebastian wasn’t to keen on helping you out on the farm when you first asked for his help. “I’ll just screw things up.” He kept saying to you, but one day, as a present you give him a pure black egg with freckles on it. You tell him that it’s a very special looking chicken that’s hard to obtain, but that when it grows up it’s black. Oh man. When you told him this, he was ALL about this chicken. He placed the egg in the incubator and every single day- he would check up on it until it hatched.

The chicken and him were absolutely inseparable. You’d find him talking to himself all throughout the day until you find out that he puts the little chick in his sweatshirt pocket and literally carries it around everywhere with him. He shows off his little chick to everyone he knows- what made the chicken and him even closer was that people were just as weirded out by the chicken as they were of Sebastian. “I want to call my chicken, Midnight” He explains one day, “I actually feel like Midnight understands me as much as you do.”

Sure, Sebastian wasn’t great help with any of the other tasks on the farm, but the fact that he gives you the biggest, goofiest looking smile whenever he holds Midnight- it makes it all worth it. You’re happy that you could give Sebastian something to look forward to each and every day. It’s not long until you have a pet bed in your own house- just for Midnight, but you can’t complain. Seeing Sebastian smile as often as he had been was enough for you.

Harvey

The physical work was not Harvey’s specialty. After trying to assign him different tasks- you figured that you should let Harvey do what he wanted to do. After all, you married the goofball because you enjoyed his independent and nurturing side. (Getting patched up or given a deep tissue massage after a long day was wonderful.)

It wasn’t until you saw him grumbling over some paperwork that you asked him what he was doing, “I know I don’t have the endurance and strength to help you out on the farm, but I wanted to help you out at least in some way.” When he hands you the papers- you find out that he had been tallying every single expense made on the farm. In short, he decided he wanted to handle all of the farms finances whilst also checking crop prices each season and dating them back through the years to see what crops made the most money. “Grow potatoes in Spring, blueberries in Summer, and cranberries in the Fall.” He started, “As you can see here-“ and that’s where you lost him. Going through all the numbers made your head spin, but the fact that he did this all on his own and that he wanted to do it gave you so much relief. After a flurry of kisses- he was happy to know that he was doing a good thing.

Although you also find that when you patch up the Greenhouse- he gets excited. You find out that the expansive farm was just overwhelming to him and he didn’t want to get sunburned or heat exhaustion (which happened to you often.) You give him the territory of the Greenhouse and tell him, “Just work on it on the days you want too. You’re not required to do anything.”

You soon find it extremely touching though when he routinely presents you with flowers that he grew himself. He explains that he only wanted the Greenhouse to gift you flowers all year long.

Elliot

Elliot finds the farm relaxing and fascinating. Having only lived on the beach- the farm was an entirely new territory that he got to explore. Every day, you’d find breakfast on the table with a note on it. You understood the general theme within each note being about ‘beauty’. He’d ask you the same question every day once you finished reading it, “Do you understand it yet?” What does he mean by ‘yet’, you wonder? Sheepishly you finally understood what every single note meant, and he was writing about you the whole time. When tiny snowflakes covered your hair in the Winter when you came in in the evening to how the sunlight glistened on your skin in the Summer. You finally get that his real fascination was watching and admiring you while you worked.

That’s not to say that he didn’t help you sometimes. Working on the farm humbled him greatly and inspired him to continuously write every single day. Before you knew it- he had multiple books published that became successful, all because he had you and your farm as inspiration.

His biggest physical help on the farm was taking care of the plants that grew each of the three seasons. He loved working on the farm with you because his enjoyment was discovering the new leaves that grew over night- or that a flower would bud on the potatoes. He was routinely in awe at the new discoveries in plant life that he couldn’t give it up. You would give him a section of the farm to take care of- only come to find out that when you finished your section, he was too distracted by about the third plant that you would have to finish it for him. He would always profusely apologize about it, but you found it touching that even something as simple as a plant was just so exciting to him.

Sometimes he looked like a little kid- mouth agape and eyes sparkling when he’d see a plant, he personally took care of growing bigger and bigger. As a gift, you gave him planters so he could better watch the plant life grow. His big, sweet smiles stick in your mind, making you smile too. He was just too cute.

Shane

You expected him to basically fight you over the chicken coop. But with everything that Shane had been through- you didn’t want to stand in the way of what made him happy. He complained about his body a lot, but you will never see this man run harder just to tell you that a new chick hatched overnight. You’d find yourself just watching him as he would chase the chickens around the pen only to then get swarmed by them- knocking him in on his ass every time. You would just laugh amongst all the bawking as he’d try to free himself. Now, he never hurt a chicken, and they’ve never hurt him- they just swarm him because they want too. It’s like one minute you’re watering your crops, just to turn and hear him scream as a mass of feathers cover him. You’d wash his clothes and routinely find feathers stuck in his pockets- you decided to collect them. One day you’ll make fun of him for it or cover the entire side of his bed with them. The feather prank was all in your hands.

Now, you thought he just had an affection for the birds until you get him to talk about them. Shane knows EVERYTHING about chickens- when’s the best time to feed them, what to feed them, how much to feed them, how to take care of their feathers, how to handle an egg-bound chicken, how to care for newly hatched chicks- this man knew everything. It wasn’t long until he knew the exact spot each chicken loved to be scratched at.  He’d explain that every chicken had a different spot that they loved being petted at- it was mind boggling.

Now Jas knew a whole lot about farming, but Shane would consistently bring her to the farm. She loved it too! Jas got to see Shane genuinely happy all the time and it brought her a lot of comfort to see him mess with the chickens (and the chickens mess with him back.) She was so happy to know that Shane was content and satisfied with his life now- instead of lonely and depressed. He expressed joy, and even to Jas- Shane was teaching her new things about chickens every time she came over. She’s smart, but there were things that he shows her that blows her mind.

Through it all- you knew Shane wouldn’t be big on helping out on the farm, but you knew if you could get him in the chicken coop, it would make him undeniably happy. That was enough for you- you didn’t marry him to make him work on the farm- you married him because of his goof ball smile and nerdy talk about chickens and it made you so so happy.

It also helped that he could take a joke and that you two could tease each other- filling his side of the bed with feathers cracked you up at the twisted face he gave. He was happy, and that made you happy.

[apr1cots]

a handful of birthdays

on harry’s 20th birthday, luna brought draco to the pub, but he sat quietly and didn’t talk. harry got far too drunk. memories of the war were fresh and any opportunity to forget led to three too many shots and an extra pint or two of beer. harry didn’t say anything to draco, not even acknowledging him beyond the polite nod of recognition he’d given when draco had sat down. he was too tired to fight anyone anymore and draco just sat enigmatically sipping slowly on a drink harry didn’t recognize.

on harry’s 21st birthday, they were back at the pub but this time draco smiled all night and laughed when harry made stupid jokes. luna rested her head on his shoulder when she got too tired and he held her close. he gave harry a book about curses, promising not to use any of them against him with his signature on the first page.

on harry’s 22nd birthday, draco looked soft in the warm light of ron and hermione’s flat. harry’s heart skipped several beats when draco caught his eye and signaled him to step outside, but settled into a familiar dull ache when draco simply handed him a tin of dark chocolates. “they’re dosed with a potion that will help you sleep.” draco neglected to mention that he’d spent months creating them just for harry and lied about the scar on his left hand that he’d burned in the process. harry watched draco’s lips while he talked, mind reeling, but hugged his friend goodbye at the end of the night.

on harry’s 23rd birthday, ginny begged and begged until he relented and everyone ended up in the middle of a deafening club, dancing raucously, throwing caution to the wind, in a way draco commonly enjoyed criticizing. harry’s heart stumbled when draco appeared at the bar, loud lights changing his white blond hair a million colors, a glass of sparkling water in each hand. everyone screamed when ginny and pansy kissed on the dance floor, but draco laughed knowingly and tugged on harry’s hair to catch his attention before throwing him a wink. disarray dissolved into absolute chaos after that and somehow everyone else was gone at half past midnight and draco offered to walk harry home.

“soooo, our exes are an item i guess.”

“i hardly count pansy as an ex,” draco snorted and harry looked up too quickly when the backs of their hands bumped together.

“still though. it’s…”

“yeah.”

harry floundered for something to say and came up with nothing, but with draco it was okay. they listened to the night and the cars on the street and the happy music spilling out of one fourth floor flat three streets from harry’s place. their hands bumped together twice more, but harry forced his gaze to remain on the sidewalk.

at the entrance to harry’s building, he stalled, turning towards draco and opening his mouth to say something, anything, when draco kissed him.

it was unlike any kiss harry had ever had, washing over him in equal parts panic, shock, delight, and sweet sweet, long-awaited relief. when draco pulled away he smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his own neck with an uncertainty antithetical to the grip he’d had on harry’s neck moments before.

“draco…”

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no. we should’ve done that a long time ago.”

“really? because-” harry laughed and cut him off, kissing him until neither of them could breathe.

on harry’s 24th birthday, they held hands under the table at the burrow. happiness tickled them all and it was loud in the way that it hadn’t been after the war. after fred and tonks and remus and all of their friends. around the fire that night, they talked about the people they missed in the way that people do when they have wounds that will never heal. but even with a heavy heart, harry fell asleep warm and grateful and with his person, not wishing his world was any different.

on harry’s 25th birthday, draco sat at the foot of his hospital bed, reading a novel and waiting for harry to wake. when he did, draco kissed his cheeks and rolled his eyes at harry making light of the situation. harry forced draco to crawl under the covers with him even though draco had claimed it beneath him. draco’s entire torso fluttered with stupid butterflies when he handed harry the jewelry box.

“merlin, draco is this-”

“i asked if they’d let me keep the bullet when they took it out. they thought i had lost the plot, but I really played up the distressed lover act and they relented.” he helped harry put the necklace on. “i… salazar, this sounds so juvenile but in this book i read they said ‘i’d take a bullet for you,’ and i… fuck, harry, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

on harry’s 26th birthday, he stretched lazily in the italian sun like a cat. draco watched him run down to the water’s edge appreciatively and ignored the puppy dog eyes that begged him to join. they pretended they were strangers but couldn’t keep up the act and laughed eating chocolate-covered strawberries under a thick blanket of stars. harry kissed draco’s neck and hummed contentedly into his warm skin. draco’s hands combed through his messy hair and they talked about their first kiss all those years ago, grinning like fools. fools in love.

on harry’s 27th birthday, they went back to their favorite pub with their favorite people, but didn’t get drunk. they rarely drank anymore and went home at eleven. draco was embarrassed but harry just squeezed his hip and told him he wanted to grow old with him anyways and that they might as well start now.

on harry’s 28th birthday, he sat on the floor of his kitchen with a bottle of dark liquid, half empty and no tears left to cry. he’d been dreading the day for weeks. it didn’t matter who wished him happy birthday, because he knew that the one person who really mattered wouldn’t say a word. his heart ached in a way he hadn’t thought was survivable and in his darkest moments, he still didn’t know how he could possibly keep on living. nothing was right without draco and it wasn’t fair that he felt so empty when draco appeared to be completely fine. how could draco be so okay without him? draco lived in his head, their arguments playing on a loop. but more than that, harry couldn’t stop thinking about the good times, the best times. he couldn’t stop dreaming about the way draco held his hand when they were in public and the way he mouthed the words to whatever book he was reading when he thought no one was watching. harry missed him so badly he couldn’t even breathe.

on harry’s 29th birthday, harry was breathless with laughter in his sitting room with his friends. rose sat on his lap, trying to steal his glasses, while teddy performed a dramatic reenactment of harry running into a pole at the park the day before. someone knocked on the door. he handed rose to her father and was met by draco on his porch. his hair was longer, but he was the same as harry’s draco had always been, sinfully beautifully, with soft eyes and pinked cheeks. 

“draco?”

fooooor @drarrymicrofic prompt: bullet 

[yummyyume]

Of Love and Sunlight - Part 01

I’m cleaning my maribat folder, so have another thing I wrote and never got around to post. There will be three parts, but the last one hasn’t been written yet, so you’ll get it eventually. 

Hope you all like it!

Tittles are adapted from Sunlight by Hozier, because I love this song and I didn’t have any idea how to name this series. 

I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, English is not my first language. I hope it’s still intelligible.

Taglist: 

@alysrose-starchild @vixen-uchiha

If you wish to be added to or removed from the taglist, you can PM me. I’m still not sure how it works. (I think there’s a limit to how many people you can tag?)

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A buried and burning flame

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Marinette meets Damian first.

She’s been apprenticing under Audrey Bourgeois for a couple years when she finally gets around to take a business class. She’s determined to build her own fashion business and working under the Style Queen has only reinforced her desire to be in charge of her own brand.

The fashion world is cutthroat, she couldn’t afford to decline Audrey Bourgeois’ apprenticeship offer, but she has had enough of the Bourgeois to last her a lifetime. And now that Chloe has graduated, she’s more often than not in New York with her mom and dealing with two Bourgeois in one day is more than Marinette is willing to do. She endures for now, but the moment she can, she’s running away and never looking back.

It may happen sooner than she had planned actually, because her customer base has been growing steadily since she was fifteen thanks to Jagged and apprenticing under Audrey has made the quality of her work increased exponentially. Even when the apprenticeship ends, Marinette won’t be left adrift. She has commissions planned for the next few months and her portfolio has never look so perfect.

The only thing she really needs now is a solid plan to build her business into a proper fashion house. She wants to see MDC amongst the Big Names of Fashion. So, a business course, no matter how boring it may seem, is what she needs.

Marinette doesn’t realize who she’s sitting next to until two girls cornered her just as she’s about to sit down, a month into the course.

“Aren’t you tired of keeping him for yourself? He’s obviously not interested!” The blond one sneers.

Marinette blinks up at her, distracted from the flower design she was slowly mapping for her next dress. The blond reminds her far too much of Chloe and Marinette already feels a headache building.

“Who?” She asks, nonetheless.

“Damian Wayne!” The brunette hisses, sounding almost scandalized that Marinette has to ask.

Marinette blinks again. She’s going to have to disappoint the poor girl again, because she has absolutely no clue who they’re talking about.

“Who?” She repeats.

“Me,” someone says from behind the two girls, making them jump in surprise before they swirl around with a look close to horror.

“Be gone,” he says in such a cold voice that Marinette almost feels bad for the girls. Almost. All her patience is spent dealing with Chloe and Audrey, she has none left for Chloe wannabes.

The two girls disappeared to the other side of the amphitheater without another backward glance.

The young man with exquisite bone structure, warm brown skin and green eyes who just talked, takes the seat next to her looking quite bored with the whole drama.

Marinette had noticed that he was beautiful weeks ago and that she wouldn’t mind dressing him up if ever given the chance, but again, she had far too much going in her life to really take the time to ogle her table neighbor.

“You’re famous?” She blurts out. She can see it, he’s the kind of handsome that people love to see on tabloid covers. With broad shoulders, a slim waist, and legs for days, he’s the kind of man Marinette wishes she could afford to model for her. She unfortunately doesn’t quite have the means for a professional photo shoot yet.

“Of a sort,” Damian answers coolly. He hesitates a second, before continuing. “My father is Bruce Wayne.”

It takes Marinette a minute to place it.

“Oh right! From Wayne Enterprise, in Gotham, right?” She smiles and offers her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“Charmed,” he replies, shaking her hand firmly, before purposefully turning to face the front of the class and ignoring her.

Marinette internally shrugs. If he doesn’t want to be friend, she’s not going to force the issue. She has already enough famous people to deal with. She doesn’t need to add another one who is not even interested.

Opening her sketch pad to a new page, she goes back to mapping the flower design she was imagining before she was interrupted.

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In the following weeks, Marinette realizes that she may have been wrong about her assessment of Damian Wayne.

Once she has proven she isn’t going to schmooze up to him, she’s apparently been placed in the category of friendly acquaintances. In no time at all, he knows she’s taking the business course in order to build her own fashion empire, that she’s apprenticing under the Style Queen and that she personally knows plenty of famous people like Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, or even Prince Ali of Achu, and she’s not counting all the other celebrities she had never met but who have commissioned her through Jagged, so Bruce Wayne’s son isn’t all that impressive to her.

The fact that she hadn’t recognized him seems to both pleased him and disgruntled him in equal measures.

But for all the things Damian has managed to weaseled out of her, she still doesn’t know him all that much, so she takes the initiative to invite him out.

“Uncle J is playing the Madison Square Garden in two weeks and asked me how many tickets I wanted, do you want to come?”

Damian actually looks surprise at her invitation.

“I am already romantically involved with someone,” he tells her a bit stiffly, his eyes burning into her own and daring her to say anything about it. Too bad for him, Marinette has faced far scarier things than her classmate.

“I’d love to meet them! Should I ask Jagged for three tickets?” She asks with a bright smile.

Damian visibly deflates at her question, before nodding.

“Yes, please, Marinette. Jon will probably cry if he learns I let go of the opportunity to attend a Jagged Stone concert.”

“Great!” She exclaims, taking out her phone to text her honorary uncle. “So, his name is Jon? How long have you two been together?”

“Two years. But I’ve known him since we were eleven.”

Marinette has to bite her bottom lip to resist the urge to coo. Damian wouldn’t like that. At all.

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Jon, when Marinette meets him the day of the concert, is nothing like she imagined. He reminds her an overexcited puppy who is so sweet and in love with Damian, it’s enough to give her cavities. Damian, on the other hand, has never looked so soft than when he’s holding hand with his boyfriend.

By the end of the concert, Marinette has both Jon’s and Damian’s phone numbers added to her small list of contacts and Jon has invited her to join the both of them on their expedition to try all the restaurants in New York. Yes, all the restaurants of New York City.

But even though Marinette is going to end up third-wheeling their dates, she can’t find the strength to say no. She doesn’t really have friends in New York, and she misses that. Even Damian, looking soft and warm, tells her he’d like if she’d come, and really what can she do but accept?