#i wish i had time to make this a little more coherent but here’s my jumble of thoughts sorry if it made no sense

[janeyseymour]

If This Is Love

Summary: Melissa's not familiar with what love should be. You come along though, and you turn her whole view on love upside down. Based off of Ingrid Michaelson's "If This is Love" from the notebook musical- and please give the song a listen, as it's my own cover!

WC: 3.25k

Since the day that Melissa Schemmenti could form coherent thoughts, she dreamt about finding love. As a little girl, she wasn’t quite shown love- seeing her parents’ marriage turn into hatred and then a messy divorce. Her aunts and uncles weren’t much better. But being a young girl who grew up with Disney princess movies where Prince Charming comes whisking the princess away, and then after falling in love with reading, the young redhead was determined to find love.

And she did… or she thought she did. Joe came along her junior year of high school, perhaps when she was the most vulnerable she could be. Being in the midst of moving house once again, dealing with a father who was as good as dead to her at this point, and having the body insecurities that every teenage girl has, she would find love in the wrong place with Joe. Not that she knew it at the time. No, she wholeheartedly believed that Joe was her true love- he didn’t degrade her or hit her the way she watched her father treat her mother. She had broken the cycle.

Until she didn’t. Until she grew up while Joe stayed the boyish person that she thought would grow up with her. And while Melissa blossomed into a lovely, yet somehow still relatively tough and true to South Philly, teacher, Joe found himself at a standstill. That did not bode well for the redhead. It led Melissa Schemmenti to the life that she had so desperately been trying to avoid, and yet here she was.

With the help of her new found friend at work, the second grade teacher was able to get away from her husband. And in that act, Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were bonded for life.

Since leaving Joe, Melissa has rarely let love into her life. Of course, she yearned to satiate her desires and often let herself, but the men that she went home with or brought back to her home were very clearly one night stands. A no strings attached situation.

If the redheaded divorcee couldn’t make it work with what she thought was her first love, her true love, her life partner, there was no point in letting anyone else in, as much as she still wished and dreamt of Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet and carry her away to a palace, to a happily ever after.

And then you came along. Everything that the rough and tough woman thought she knew about herself went out the window. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t actually need a Princess Charming… but a Princess Charming?

That threw her for a whole new loop, but still the redhead stood her ground and refused to let you into her life in a romantic way because of her prior experiences. Well, the more accurate statement is that she tried to refuse to let you into her life in a romantic way.

But you, with your sweet charm and truly kind heart, had wormed your way into that one spot that Melissa so desperately kept guarded. As time goes by, the two of you grow close, and it’s… it’s nice. It’s almost as if the two of you have slipped into a relationship without either of you really knowing it.

Until Barbara Howard, your favorite redhead’s work wife, makes it apparent to Melissa just how in deep she is. And the glass shatters around her as she sees exactly what the kindergarten teacher is speaking of.

I've waited every day to feel the way I feel. Knots in my stomach, the kind that never heal. Butterflies that fly in me and never seem to go away.

It is true that Melissa has been waiting everyday to feel the way she feels about you. From the time she was little, she wanted to feel unconditional love for someone, and all the somewhat broken girl wanted in return was the same connection from someone else. Green eyes soften and glance down at her hands as she realizes you provide that warmth and love that she craves and has been craving for years now. The thought of it alone makes her stomach knot, but she oddly finds that she doesn’t ever want those knots, butterflies really, to go away when she thinks about you. It’s a warm, somewhat pleasant feeling when you simply greet her with a gentle smile or softly spoken words. It’s in the way that you show her you care for her, backing up the words that you promise her everyday. As opposed to just the words, you show her that you mean them. And… it makes her heart flutter. She remembers the first time she ever felt that with you, and it brings a warmth to her soul like no other.

Melissa comes into the staff room looking exhausted and a little pale, if you’re being honest. The second grade teacher throws her purse on the chair that she usually occupies before sighing heavily as she makes her way to the coffee machine.

“Long night, Schemmenti?” you tease her. “Out avoiding all your problems again?”

She looks to you with a tiredness in her eyes that, despite her appearances, you still weren’t really ready for. “No. I was in bed by nine, and my body feels like it’s absolutely dragging today.”

By the time her coffee is ready, she hasn’t engaged in conversation with anyone else in the room, and she simply gathers her things and heads for her own classroom. That’s quite odd. Unusual. Maybe she really isn’t feeling well.

Come the time for lunch, your kids have you going crazy. All you really want to do is sit in your classroom for some much needed peace and quiet, but your curiosity about how your favorite redhead gets the best of you. So, with a soft sigh to yourself, you make your down to the staff lounge. You know you’re a few minutes later than you would be on a normal day, so when you walk in to see that Melissa isn’t sitting in her spot, you grow a bit concerned.

“Where’s Mel?” you ask Barbara.

The kindergarten teacher shrugs. “I know she said something about her kids having her wiped and maybe staying in her room to nap during lunch.”

Your brows furrow, and you grab her lunch from the refrigerator before heating it. Once it’s hot and ready, you gather your own meager lunch and head down to the redhead’s classroom.

What you see when you walk in is not what you expected at all. The woman is wearing her winter coat, she has the blanket that she usually sits on draped over her, and she’s asleep on the carpet as she leans against the beanbag that she usually keeps in her calm down corner.

You frown before crossing your way over and feeling her forehead. She’s burning up. It’s clear she isn’t feeling well, because when you expected her to bat at your hand, she doesn’t so much as flinch at your touch. 

“Mel,” you shake her gently, so as not to disturb her quite as much. She doesn’t stir in the slightest.

With a frown, you take her things back down to the staff lounge, stick it in the fridge, and then grab your keys. If she’s feeling so terrible that she can’t even stay awake for the entirety of the school day, the afternoon is going to be rough.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Janine asks. “Aren’t you going to eat lunch with us?”

“I forgot I have to run out to the store,” you lie.

“Well, when are you going to eat lunch, dear?” Barbara asks as she takes a bite of her salad.

You shrug. “I’ll be fine. I had a big breakfast, and if I really get hungry, I’ll eat while my kids are at music today.” Without another word, you’re out of the staff lounge and running for your car to make it to Acme and back before you have to pick the kids up from their lunch period.

You don’t think you’ve ever been in and out of the grocery store in such quick timing. Your arms are equipped with congestion and fever reducing medicine, a bag of cough drops, tissues, tea bags, honey, and a thermometer.

You hastily eat your lunch on your way back to the school, prepare the mug of tea just how you fix it when you’re sick yourself, and then you’re quietly making your way back into the redhead’s room. She’s just as you left her, although she’s shivering now.

“Mel?” you gently shake her awake. She has to wake up- the kids are almost done their lunch period.

Her eyes open, and she blearily looks up at you. “Y/N?”

“Hey hun,” you smile softly. “It’s time to get up now, but I brought you a few things to help you get through the rest of the-” She cuts you off with a harsh cough that sounds and looks painful. “-the rest of the day.”

You silently present her with some of the medicine and the bag of cough drops. Then you hand her the tea. “Drink it. It’ll help your throat.”

“‘m fine,” the second grade teacher grumbles.

“You aren’t,” you tell her softly. “And that’s okay. You just have to make it the next two hours, and then you can go home and rest tonight, tomorrow, and over the weekend.”

What you had done for her that day, and then even just checking in on her throughout the weekend, it was something special to Melissa Schemmenti. You did all of it out of the goodness of your heart, expecting nothing in return. You just… wanted to be there for her when she was in a time of need. It sent her into a tizzy when she realized that she had more than just platonic feelings for you.

Sick to my stomach when I think about (her) face. But in a good way, in a way I can’t replace/ Nothing can stop this- it’s almost like a hurricane.

If the tougher than nails redheaded teacher thinks her stomach turns in knots when she thought of your sweet, kind actions that you consistently show her, it is no match to the way she feels when she thinks about your beautiful face.

She can recall the first time she laid eyes on you. Stunning was the first word that popped into her head. And then, in her own inner monologue, she chastised herself. That word couldn’t capture how beautiful you are. She decided later on what word best describes your face- ethereal.

It’s something in the way that your eyes glimmer when you’re speaking of something that you’re passionate about- whether that be your kids, the music that you love to listen to, or another hobby of yours entirely, Melissa Schemmenti swears she could get lost in your eyes for forever, and she wouldn’t have a single complaint about it.

Your eyes give so much away in general. She can see when you’re happy, elated, sad, frustrated, angry… just by glancing into your eyes for a split second. The redhead almost swears she can touch your soul when she looks into your eyes. They tell her everything she needs to know. Melissa swears you hold a whole other universe in your eyes that is just waiting to be discovered.

She wants to be the one to discover that piece of you. At first, she had tried to step back from you and stop the feelings that she seemed to harbor for you, but it wasn’t possible. It isn’t possible. You, like a hurricane, came barreling into her life- a force to be reckoned with that can’t be stopped.

If this is love, I’m not ready. If this is love, why am I so unsteady? If this is love, why did no one tell me the pain that I would feel?

The redhead, not wanting to but being forced to, sits in her emotions almost everyday after school. She gets into her car (before either driving to her house to prepare dinner for the two of you, or to make her way over to your place to eat one of your infamous dishes), and she takes in what Barbara had spoken quietly at lunch while you were in the restroom. Shit. Melissa is in deep. She’s not ready for this- not in the slightest. She isn’t in love with you. She can’t be. But if she is… why does she feel so unsteady, so uncomfortable with it.

Taking a deep breath, the second grade teacher calls her best friend.

“Melissa, we just left the building,” Barb answers the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa huffs out. Then she makes herself a bit vulnerable. “I- I think you may be right.”

“Well, of course I am,” the kindergarten teacher smirks. “But what am I correct about this time?”

“I- I think I’m in deep for Y/N.”

“And you’re calling me to tell me this because…?”

“Barb,” the usually strong and confident woman says in such a way that Barbara’s heart almost aches for her friend. “If- If this is love, why does it hurt so much?”

“Melissa, dear… if I may, the last times you’ve been in love, they’ve hurt you,” the wise woman says into the phone. “Perhaps you’re projecting the hurt and emotions that you’ve buried deep down onto this.”

“I dunno,” the redhead shrugs. 

“Tell me, when you think of Y/N, how do you feel?”

Melissa bites the bottom corner of her lip before admitting, “Lighter than I’ve felt in a long time… There’s- she’s somethin’ real special, Barb.”

“She is,” Barbara smiles into the phone. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you’ve had enough heartache in your life, and I truly don’t think Y/N is capable of hurting anyone. You are a strong and confident woman, Melissa. And I think you need to open yourself back up to love- for yourself, for Y/N, and so the rest of our friends stop asking me if the two of you are secretly dating!”

The second grade teacher hums into her device, thinking on it. “M’kay, thanks.”

“Think about it, and make a choice, Melissa. But remember, dear: not making a decision is a decision.”

And with that, Barbara hangs up the phone, and Melissa closes her eyes.

If this is love, maybe I’m ready. How do I know? I’m in my head again. If this is love, I think I’m in it. If this is, if this is, if this is love.

The entire drive back to her place, Melissa Schemmenti is all but a basket case. One second, she thinks she’s ready- maybe. And then she’s not so sure. And then she’s asking herself how she would know if she loves you before berating herself for getting herself absorbed in her thoughts to the point that she hardly remembers the drive home.

As she treks her way up the front steps to her house, you pull up with the same bright smile on your face that she saw at the end of the day. And Melissa thinks to herself that she’s used to seeing that beautiful grin after a long day at work- that she could get used to you always being around for dinner, like you have been for months now. Silently, Melissa Schemmenti thinks that if this is what love is, she thinks she just might be in it.

The world around me says no, but I say yes. I wanna scream it out, instead it’s stuck inside my chest. It’s like a bird, in a rage, in a cage- and nobody wants to free me.

The entire time that the two of you dance around the kitchen to make dinner, the redhead’s eyes hardly leave you. You can’t say you don’t notice. Melissa often has an eye on you no matter where you are, whether that be in her home, your house, the school, or elsewhere, but the way that she’s watching you tonight is… it’s different.

Everything in the second grade teacher’s heart is telling her to profess her love for you. To tell you that despite the fact that she’s got a not so great track record with relationships that left her terrified of love and what it can do to people, that you are worth all of those doubts and fears.

You almost ask her what’s going through that pretty head of hers, but you know how the redhead can be. If she doesn’t want to say it, she won’t. So you settle for giving her warm smiles and feather light touches as you maneuver your way through her house with ease throughout the night. What you don’t know is: if you had asked Melissa, she would’ve told you this time. And she actually wanted you to ask. 

If this is love, I’m not ready. If this is love, why am I so unsteady? If this is love, why did no one tell me the pain that I would feel?

When you leave for the night, Melissa is about as confused as Janine was when Gregory was trying to teach her physics. She- she knows that she loves you now, but something was stopping her from telling you tonight, even when there was a perfect opportunity for her to lean in and kiss you. That alone tells her that she isn’t ready. God, why is she so unsteady in her feelings?

The redhead groans as she drags herself to bed, and only once she is in the quiet comfort of her own bed does she truly let herself fall into her thoughts.

Melissa has been burned, seen other people burned, and… her heart quite literally aches, a dull sensation that feels like a knife to the heart, as she remembers what that feels like. She wonders if you’re worth the risk of feeling like that again.

If this is love, maybe I’m ready. How do I know? I’m in my head again. If this is love, I think I’m in it. If this is, if this is, if this is love, I think I’m in it, and in between it, and upside down, and inside out. I think I’m in in, and in between it, and upside down.

Sleep doesn’t come easy for Melissa that night. But when she does finally give into her own exhaustion, she dreams of you. She dreams of what a life could be like with you. 

When she wakes with a soft jolt, the redhead wishes she hadn’t. Dreaming of a life with you was better than reality- a reality where you aren’t hers.

As she sits up in bed, she comes to the conclusion that if this is what love is, she’s in love with you and everything that could be.

Those thoughts are only confirmed when she walks into the staff room, and there you are- practically glowing as the sun surrounds you perfectly as you sip from your coffee mug while grading your students’ spelling tests. You look like an angel- you are an angel in her eyes.

And with enough courage, Melissa knows that this is what love is supposed to be, and she has to do something about it- soon.

If this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is love. 

Tags

(and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[ryiju-muunie]

700 Follower Special!

Baby come sit on my face~

college student!fem!reader/professor!Toji Fushiguro/professor!Kento Nanami/professor!Choso Kamo/professor!Suguru Geto Warnings: classroom sex, orgy, semi-public sex, spit roasting, double penetration, blow job, hand job, Choso and Geto lowkey start getting freaky, intense breeding, pussy eating, nipple sucking/play Word count: 2757 DESC: You decide to get extra credit the only way you know how ... being a whore

Ok maybe this is not coherent I AM SICK!! But thank you for 700!! Next up issssssssssss BDSM month!

NOTES: I've been putting this off for so long I'm already passed 700 LMAO. I don't know if this is going to be anything special but hey orgy man

How hard was it to get extra credit? Any normal student would do the simple things, you know, email their teachers professionally and ask for extra coursework. Or perhaps, buy school supplies on their professor's wish lists to boost themselves up in the classroom. For you, it was different. You were a full-time college student, although full-time was a stretch. Over time was a better word for the number of classes you took. Economics, history, math, geography, English- I could go on. But here’s the thing, as much as you tried to be a scholar student, you were falling behind. Your grades were slipping into terrible territory.  

So what else were you to do but ask for extra credit? You had seen enough porn to know how it would go. And you had also not interacted with enough humans to realize the idea was utterly insane. I mean, gathering all four of your professors [trust me it would’ve been more, but they were busy] into a desolate classroom as you stripped? It was insanity! Why the hell would these esteemed professors ever ruin their careers for some fun? Well, knowing them, you made the right choice. Your choice of winky faces and ~ made them all quirk their brows, but they weren’t stupid.  

Professor Kamo, for geography, was the first to arrive. He was a dark-dressed, tall individual. Out of all your professors, he was the absolute cutest. The way his face scrunched into a pout as he waited for answers, or how he beamed when talking about his favorite geological locations. You had to admit, you had fantasized about every teacher, but he was the one you liked the most. You imagined pulling on his hair, or even putting it up to make him such a cute little puppy. He would be a perfect sub, following you around with a subtle collar on his neck. Something to show you were his owner. Oh, you loved it.  

Then both your economics and your math teacher came in, Dr. Nanami and Mr. Fushiguro. Dr. Nanami was older, with blonde hair with salt and pepper starting to sprinkle at his roots. By far, he was the oldest and the sexist, although Mr. Fushiguro was a very close second. They were both tall and muscular from what you could tell, but your dark-haired professor had a sort of delinquent charm you found riveting. He would sit on top of his desk, talk candidly, and openly curse without caring if the students were offended. You wished he’d bend you over that same desk and whisper those stupid equations you never got in your ears.  

Finally, Professor Geto arrived. If you thought Mr. Fushiguro was a delinquent, he was nothing compared to the youngest professor. He had long hair, typically pulled back in a bun. The man insisted he only had a very limited number of tattoos, but you always saw more peak out from his sleeves or the underside of his shirt if he extended his arms. He was absolutely covered, with piercing holes in his face from jewelry you knew he had to take off every morning. His eyes too, God, they were sultry without even trying. The perfect seductive stare, every time he looked at you. It wasn’t purposeful, but you hoped it was. 

Your teachers all gathered at random desks as you were seated on top of a desk before them. Your outfit left little to the imagination, making it a bit hard for any of them to keep their eyes off you. White buttons on your blouse, pulling at your breasts and barely staying together. Your lacy black bra was peeking out, as was your thong. It was cheesy, but your only reference was shitty porn, right? Then a pencil skirt, but nothing office-appropriate. If anything, it was short and tight. It hugged the fat of your thighs perfectly, making them protrude as your legs crossed.  

Mr. Fushiguro was the first to break the silence, crossing his arms with a glare your way, “So is this the emergency?” He raised an eyebrow and motioned to your clothes [or lack thereof], “You don’t seem too … stressed out.” God that tone, the way he sized you up with his eyes. It was utterly seductive and utterly disparaging how you couldn’t run your hands over his muscles.  

“I think she might want extra credit,” Dr. Nanami concluded, taking a hold of his tie. Each day he arrived at class with a new tie, and today he chose your favorite. Just a plain black tie, but it contrasted beautifully against his pale skin tone. His fingers wrapped around the fabric and slowly he pulled it back and forth, off his neck. Oh well, he already got the memo it seemed. Your other two Professors simply watched as the two older men approached you with hunger in their eyes, stalking you like prey. You were going to be theirs tonight- all of theirs.  

Your black-haired professor was the first to take hold of you, placing his large hand on your thigh. It almost made you shiver, how he took your skin like you were nothing more than a mere object. His fingers dug into the plush fat and kneaded it slowly, just to see how you would react. You, obviously, were feeling a bit of arousal at this kind of touch. It was evident in how you bit your bottom lip, grating your teeth to the pleasure building in your lower half. It was kind of pathetic, how just a few simple touches were making your clit throb with anticipation. What didn’t help was another hand grabbing ahold of your jaw, turning your head to face him. Kento’s eyes were cold and grey, something you had grown fond of. It was hot, how he took charge and narrowed his eyes on you. Looking at you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy. Oh, and you were, you were so prepared for all of this. Pathetic.  

He leaned forward, slowly placing his loosened tie around your neck and tightening it. Just enough you could feel it, not enough to restrict your airflow. Although, you wouldn’t have minded if it made you choke- if he made you choke. The blonde pulled on the tie, making you fall forward into his grasp, where your lips finally met. You could hear a groan escape your other professor, but hell, you could’ve cared less. Fingers entangled in your hair as his mouth overtook yours in a sloppy bliss. Over and over did his tongue search your mouth and roll circles against your own. Teeth collided as you throbbed, completely soaking your underwear. You needed him, no you needed all of them.  

You pulled back from the kiss in search of Toji, locking lips with him next. He grabbed a hold of the tie and tightened it to the base of your neck, dominating your mouth in a slow kiss. It was painful, how he made you take your time instead of greedily taking him like you wanted to. Like you so badly wanted to. His large hand found a home on your hips, while more sets of hands spread apart your legs. You couldn’t tell who was pulling down your underwear as it fell to your ankles, warm fingers spreading apart your folds. Tongue against tongue and lips against lips, that’s all you could focus on as you felt lips on your neck, biting away, lips on your breasts, and a pair of hot lips against your clit. God, it was so overstimulating.  

You pulled away again to take in the scene before you, leaning back onto Professor Kamo for support as he bit at your neck. Nanami had undone your blouse … at some point and was beginning to mark your chest with his mouth, sloppily kissing the skin as if you were his last meal. Then Suguru had placed himself between your legs, face pressed against your warmth. It looked like he couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t coming up for air. The pleasure was building; He wasn’t taking his time either. Although it was a slow build, it was intense. The kind of waves you’d only truly get from one of those rose toys. How the hell did he do that with his mouth? 

Another kiss took hold of you, this time by Choso. It was different from the rest, so sweet and soft. God, you wanted to corrupt this sweet kiss. You wanted to corrupt him most of all, make him beg to cum repeatedly until he was a panting mess. You leaned your head against his, pushing your mouth against his for more friction.  

Slowly your pussy was feeling swollen, as if it was already conceding from just this little amount of abuse. You wanted to cum, God you wanted to cum all over Professor Geto. Just coat him in your hot slick and watch as he had one of the other Professors lick him clean, before they’d get distracted and make out. That thought made you let out a noise, something you hadn’t done up until that point. They didn’t expect you to be so silent, but now it was all coming out. Your back arched to the thought of the men forgetting about you and taking each other instead, fucking until they were all a huge mess of sweat and spit. You moaned to the thought of Toji grabbing ahold of Choso’s face and tongue fucking him with all his strength, and how it would look. How it would sound too. The noises the two men would make, mixing with the sounds of the other men. And your wet pussy, how you’d touch yourself to the sight. It was making you clench at the thought.  

“Pretty girl,” Suguru cooed, pulling back from your cunt with slick trailing from his chin. One of his fingers slowly found its way inside, followed by another one, followed by a third. You gaped at the sensation, wishing you were fuller. Full of their cocks and their cum, pumping load after load into your cervix. You couldn’t speak, instead all you could do was whimper into Choso’s mouth as he grew desperate for your tongue, slowly grinding his erection into your back. It pressed against your curves and made you hungry to taste it, letting it fill your throat.  

“Fuck me,” you finally rasped, pulling away from the kiss and tapping Kento’s head a few times. Toji had been busy licking and sucking on your neck, but once he heard your words, he pushed you back against the desk. It was enough to overpower Choso’s hold on you, sending you falling back onto the hardwood.  

You weren’t sure how it happened, all of it becoming such a blur, but you found yourself straddling Dr. Nanami, with his cock ghosting your cunt, Toji, with his erection pressed against your anus, and your two other Professors standing before you, their dicks waiting to be touched by your greedy hands. You were salivating, reaching out and taking a hold of Choso’s boner before your mouth wrapped around Geto’s. He couldn’t help but grab the base of your neck, forcing you down his length. Then you felt Kento slide you down, and Toji force slicked fingers inside your hole. It was all at once, how you were being fucked and fingered, then sucking and stroking. God, it was becoming too much, how you were used and used like you were nothing more than a toy.  

Your hand stroked Kamo’s cock as your tongue lolled around Suguru’s dick. It tasted so good and felt like bliss as it kissed your throat. Each thrust of his hips sent his tip deeper and deeper until you felt yourself gag. All the while, Nanami was taking you with slow strokes. He wanted to feel you, take his time with you. Savor your plush pussy as he bottomed out. Then he wanted to fuck you, deep and hard, until you could barely take it. But the good slut you were, you’d take it. You’d take all of it like a good girl. God, it was driving him crazy.  

Toji’s fingers were circling your entrance and teasing your asshole, plunging into your hole slowly just to feel you stretch around him. It was first one digit, before the rest followed suit. You gasped around Geto’s length and pulled back, arching to the sensation of your cunt and your hole being penetrated. It was so good, touching spots you didn’t even know existed. But you were neglecting your other professor, who you saw was whimpering into your touch. Just like the pathetic sub he was, he wanted your mouth all around his member. You complied, swallowing Choso whole as your two hands began to satiate your other professors' burning desire.  

“F-fuck,” Kento stuttered, his hands planting themselves on your hips as he thrust into you. You finally tuned into the sounds around you, hearing the squelching and moaning from the men surrounding you. Toji was groaning into your ass as he finger fucked you, the blonde was losing himself in your walls, Choso was whining and gripping your hair, and Suguru was letting out breathy gasps from your hands alone. It was overstimulating. Each hole, each orifice, and each part of your body was being tended to. Who cared about the homework at this point? It had become more than that as you were used and fucked for their pleasure. You were a toy, a fuck thing. You were nothing more than someone who was being used to get all these older men off, and it was getting you closer and closer to the edge.  

You wanted to cum so bad all over Kento and Mr. Fushiguro hadn’t even gotten to fuck your tight asshole yet. You wanted to feel Choso splatter ropes of pure hot and white cum down your throat, bucking his hips and forcing you to choke as he kept going. You wanted to feel Suguru paint your face in his sperm as he thrust into your two hands, since his cock was too big for one. And especially, you wanted Professor Nanami to make you a good little mommy. You wanted him to fuck you repeatedly until you were swollen, until you were bulging with his cock and his spunk. God, the thought of your cervix being kissed by his dick was getting you off. Then you felt your asshole begin to stretch.  

Maybe that’s what sent you over the edge in an orgasm. It took over and within seconds you let out a sob. Your head pulled back from Mr. Kamo’s member as you leaned forward onto the man below you. There was intense bliss that filled your pussy and flowed into your brain, different than anything you’ve ever felt before. It was arousing, causing the yearning fire to come back moments after you had finished. Then Kento finished inside you. Your walls clenching around him was too much, sending him over the edge as the coil in his stomach broke. White and hot spurts of cum were pumped deep into your tight hole, as he fucked his orgasm right back into you.  

All the while, you hadn’t noticed the two men before you decided to get each other off instead of waiting on you. Choso pressed his lips sloppily to Suguru’s, wrapping his arms around the other as his dick rubbed against his length. It was hot to see them get each other off, holding their cocks together and bucking them up and down. His tip was swollen and leaking, brushing against Geto’s in a way you knew felt so good. You wanted to hold them together and press your fingers against their slits in a way that would drive them crazy, but feeling two men fuck into you was starting to get too much.  

Toji fucked into you like he had an agenda, and it was to get his own release. He didn’t care about your pleasure, and it was turning you on again. Kento on the other hand was trying so hard to keep his composure in favor of your pleasure. Yet, you so desperately wanted him to lose control and use you. You were their fuck toy. And you’d let them use you again, and again, and again, if it meant they could get off. You loved it. You relished in being used like a nasty whore. And they got off on that fact, too.  

[lady-of-tearshed]

Do not disturb

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra Week 2024

@erisweekofficial

Day 7: Free Day

Summary: You and Eris get a little overexcited and decide to blow off some sexual tension in-between two meetings. Will the new High Lord manage to thoroughly please his wife and High Lady with barely half an hour? Let's hope so.

Word count: 728 words

Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, impregnation kink, begging, praise kink

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 🤎

As soon as the doors had been closed, and everyone that had attended this finance meeting had exited the throne room, Eris pulled you up onto his lap.

Clothes flew to the ground, piling up here and there. One of your hands went to hold tight onto Eris’ shoulder while the other gripped onto his throne armrests as you sank down on him.

“Eris,” You whined, trying to push yourself down onto him despite his strong grip on your hips, keeping you steady. “Please,”

Eris purred against your neck, moving into you unbearably slowly. His tongue and teeth scraped against your skin, relishing on the idea that he had all of the time in the world to worship what was his.

“Patience, beloved,” He nipped at the skin of your neck, his cock twitching inside of you at every little gasp you make. “We have all the time in the world,”

“We're supposed to meet your emissary in half an hour-”

You were cut short by Eris' hips roughly slamming home, his fingers dug so hard into the flesh of your hips you knew it would leave marks. Your head tilted back from the intense sensations, but Eris fisted your hair and brought it back straight to force your eyes to stay on his.

“I don't see the issue there,” Eris answered, his eyes shining with pure Fae male arrogance. “I can thoroughly and properly fuck my mate with half an hour ahead of me,”

“What if–” You swallow thickly, trying to form coherent sentences and concentrate on something else than the sounds your bodies made as they collided restlessly. “We're going to get caught,”

“Then be so,” He slowed his pace, one of his hands tracing a path from your pelvis to your chest. His thumb gently grazed your right nipple. “It's not like we're doing something… naughty,”

You raised an eyebrow and rolled your eyes, the mimic only fuelled Eris' desire.

“I'm being completely serious right now. We're technically fulfilling our duties,” His nose brushed against your cheek, taking in your addictive scent. “We're making an heir,”

“I'm sure this could be done in a bedroom,”

“Are you complaining, beloved?”

All you could do was shake your head from side to side as he hit that spot deep within you, again and again. Your bodies were sticking together from the sweat coating your skin. Eris magic was dancing all around you, little sparks of fire flickering in the throne room.

“Good. Then stop whining and ride my cock like a good girl,”

You obeyed, your vision started to fade to black. The coil in your stomach tightened as you did as Eris ordered, your quivering thighs moving you up and down on his cock, faster. The pace of his thrust was erratic.

“Eris- I'm going to-”

“I know,” He growled against your skin and nuzzled in the crook of your neck. His voice was barely over a whisper as he added, “Let go, my beloved. Come for me. I’m almost there, too,”

Time slowed, all of your muscles contracted, and your inner walls clenched around Eris as your orgasm rippled.

Eris gave a few more thrusts, more sloppy than the others, and roared against your skin when release rushed through him. He emptied himself inside of you, holding your hips tightly and tilting them to reach the deepest spot he could. You shivered at how exquisitely full and warm you felt in this moment, wishing you could just stay like this forever. But-

The door clicked open, and Eris snarl was animalistic. “Get out,”

“M-M-My apologies, High Lord,” the flustered emissary stuttered, “Should I come back l-later?”

You couldn't see Eris’ emissary from where you stood on Eris thighs, but you could smell and feel the raw terror through his voice.

“No,” Eris' arms tightened around your body. His teeth nibbled the skin of your jaw, and you could already feel him hardening again inside of you. “Not today,” He snapped at his emissary, clearly dismissing him.

The poor male didn't hesitate to run away with his tail between his legs. Eris’ attention returned to you completely as soon as the massive wooden doors shut.

A wicked grin was plastered on his lips, his cock, still buried deep inside of you, was already ready and hard with desire once again.

“Ready for another ride, High Lady?”

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @mybestfriendmademe @acotar-lover

[yxtubers]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: matt gets his wisdom teeth taken out, which makes him incredibly clingy

warnings/notes: reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ , that’s about it

requested?: yes!

> > >

Matt had been having tooth pains for weeks now. Every time you urged him to go to the dentist, he would just claim that he hated the dentist and that the pain wasn’t a big deal anyway.

Clearly he was wrong. Sitting next to him as he woke up from his anesthetic daze, you wished you could tell him ‘I told you so’ but you decided to refrain until he was fully sobered up.

His eyes were squinted, probably sensitive to the light since he had been put to sleep for a while.

He looked around for a bit, adjusting to finally being awake. His eyes darted around vigorously once he couldn’t find you.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he mumbled, disoriented at his surroundings.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing. You were literally beside him, but his drugged state impaired his common sense.

“I’m right here, love.”

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

You tried speaking gently since the doctors said to be patient and quiet with him in case he had vertigo or a headache.

“Why do I sound like that?” he asked almost childishly.

“You have gauze in your mouth. They took out your wisdom teeth, remember?”

You brushed his hair out of his eyes. Tucking some other strands behind his ear, you noticed the bewildered look in his eyes.

“They have my teeth?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so clueless it was adorable. “Yes, but they were bad teeth. The doctors made you all better.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding. He looked around once more, a confused look on his face.

“Can we go home? This place is creepy,” he said, his puffed out cheeks still impeding his speech. It took all his strength to be able to speak even somewhat coherently.

As soon as you got home, Matt was all over you.

He was leaning his head on your shoulder and gripping onto your arm, following you around wherever you went.

You didn’t mind. You actually found it cute - but you were worried for him. The doctors said he shouldn’t be walking around too much since he probably didn’t have a lot of balance.

“Hey how about we go lie down for a bit?” you asked him.

His eyes widened. Matt grabbed onto your arm with both hands now, looking up at you.

“Yeah! Will you lie with me?”

You smiled before nodding and helping him to his bedroom. You tucked him into bed before getting some water and painkillers for when he wakes up, but not without Matt whining for you to come back and cuddle with him.

You could hear a “where are youu?” from the room over as you scrambled to get as many supplies as possible.

His eyes were droopy when you came back into the room, head lolling to the side as he tried to fight off sleep. You set everything down next to him, including some clean gauze for him later. Changing them would be a pain in the ass but it doesn’t compare to how he’s about to feel in the next hour or so.

“Am I gonna hurt when I wake up?” he whined again as he made a grabby motion for you to come next to him.

Climbing into bed, you gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only for a little while, but I’ll be here to help.”

His lips broke out into a smile, his cheeks making him look like a chipmunk. Closing his eyes he cuddled into you, resting his head on your lap as you sat up in the bed.

“You’re the best,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

@sunshinewwx

[lucabyte]

thinking about the very specific reading of isat i had during act 3 for the most part

anyway yeah ill ramble here about this. since it actually explains my headcanons for what the disappearing island wish was

disclaimer: taken as a whole this is way too allegorical for what i'd consider a holistic reading of isat, but it was part of my running theories at the time.

anyway my guess for the real-world equivalent of the island ended up being French Polynesia by the end of the game. I had initially thrown a dart at siffrin being greek wrt europe, sisyphus allusion, enjoyment of plays and seafairing-- but the moment that little guy started getting real weird about stars and specified they were from an island i switched my guess to him being polynesian. And then that reading only really strengthened from there (and i was pretty close, tbf!)

but yeah during act 3, especially the king plotline, i started thinking about the themes of cultural erasure + lack of identity that the game has and how that plays wrt vaugarde's extremely welcoming and diverse nature.

reading far too much into it but it made me wonder if they are the results of a fallen empire of some kind. somewhere that gathered people from across the globe (as empires are known to do) before dissolving into what seems to be a localised theocracy of some kind?

like. vaugarde is basically the Good End for an empire. Fully demilitarised (they barely have use for police to the point where the defenders are surprised by burglaries, and almost CERTAINLY have zero army), extremely diverse, not caring where one comes from.

(either that or they've been a socialist utopia like, forever? and thus just aquired migrants perpetually... but ka bue is characterised as harsher by odile in a lot of respects so one can assume its not that the whole planet is Niceys All The Time.)

this lines up pretty well with the um. Whole France Thing. Boy do they own a lot of islands still that they maybe shouldn't. Also lines up with bonnie's word-of-god french creole dialect. So Vaugarde as the welcoming, ideal form of former-colonialiser-nation is like. one i vibe with if we're gonna read too hard into the worldbuilding as presented.

Anyway all this to say I did for a time wonder if the Northern Island wish was 'For The Island To Be Safe'. Assuming this world to have any level of inter-country conflict-- Wish craft is powerful stuff, and a singular island might not be able to defend itself against those seeking to take it by force. Hiding the island from the world would protect it.

... though that felt like an unusually cruel read. The implication that cloistering away like that is a 'valid' strategy for a culture to be safe (albeit with the splash damage of hurting any diaspora).

Plus, wish craft is superbly powerful, with evidently its use on the island only becoming more widespread after it was discovered how to make it work Consistently.

(i work here under the assumption that Siffrin's growing cloak is imbued with wish craft, assumedly the same as the king's armour? Since there's no way that was created at that scale...)

So it almost makes more sense, to me, for the wish to be to 'Protect The World (universe) From Us' or to 'Keep The Universe Safe'.

Wish craft being so second nature to the Islanders (See: Siffrin, favour tree), that a wish that breaks the universe is almost inevitable were the knowledge to become widespread and ingrained.

This too is an oddly cruel read, that a culture's rituals can be dangerous to that degree, but ... ? Dunno. Like I said, reading it as hard allegory makes it fall apart somewhat. Symbols can mean many different things at once until you flatten them for direct analysis like this. I don't think it's quite so 1-to-1, and it's honestly slightly too 'no story only lore' for my tastes, so I did push a lot of this stuff out of my analytical mind once I started getting to the back and of act 3 and into act 4.

Anyway. Not the most coherent explanation in the world, but still some thoughts I had mid-game that i figure i should put somewhere at least, even if I don't think they are really what the game is going for.

As a bonus, the discussions on what the island wish were in this context also lead my friend @samhainian to speculation on the colour wish that i really enjoy. Which is....

The wish that removed colour from humans perception of the world being something along the lines of:

"I wish the world was simpler"

ergo, removing colour as an invocation of Nuiance VS Black and White Morality. The world is simpler, easier to understand.

I think it's a fun headcanon! I like it.

Well anyway. A work is more than the sum of its parts and dissecting something so sloppily as this often does it a disservice. So don't take my theorising as anything more than a general rundown of where my head was at mid-game before i had all the pieces. The emotional core of the story is far more where it's at for ISAT sooooo. [Shrugs and scampers away]

[starhvney]

What are the ethnicities you hc for the aphmau characters?

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐒

𝐀/𝐍: i love this question ty so much for asking me!! it’s so fun to just freeball it since the characters are literal pixels haha. on top of the ethnicities, i also paired my updated face claims i have for them.

(in advance, i’d like to apologize if i give an ethnicity to a character and the face claim i gave doesn’t really match it? i personally have a hard time associating features with ethnicities, and i pulled the pictures from pinterest so it was hard to confirm all of the face model's origins. i tried my best to do the research.)

anyways, i also included some diaries characters in here as well! i tried to group them all in a way that was coherent so i hope it all makes sense!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐊 & 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐍: i really can’t see them as being anything other than native american. i just think it’s a perfect match for them

𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 & 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀: native american, obviously like their parents. 

side note: i did some research and found out that some native american people have short hair and cut it, while others keep it long for tradition and only cut it for grieving purposes. so i think it makes sense to hc them as this—though long hair on all of them would be awesome, too. anyways, please educate me if i’m wrong on this!

𝐙𝐀𝐂𝐊: hispanic, though i haven’t decided on specifics

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: hispanic, more specifically latina/mexican

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐔: just like jess, i’ve always viewed her self insert as latina, too.

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘: i had trouble deciding for both him and travis, but i think i landed on him being french

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒: we don’t see his mom in mys, but we see her in mcd and she literally just looks like him. so i’ll say travis is also mostly french and possible mixed with another ethnicity to account for his nice tan

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄: that is a white man. he’s from o’khasis, so i feel like he’s straight up an englishman.

𝐙𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀: i see her as a small amount of mediterranean, specifically greek, mixed with scandinavian. 

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇: garroth takes more after garte, though i think he’d have the bits of green in his eyes and tall nose from his mother. 

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄: zane looks more like his mother, with his dark eyes and pale skin, though he has his fathers eyes and the curse of burning in the sun like a vampire from the english side.

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃: he looks the most like zianna, and the unknown biological father seemed to have been european as well based on his skin?

𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂: scottish (af) (samesies)

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇: british

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍 & 𝐊𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐘: british and scottish. the whole family is paler than a sheet of paper

side note: i wish we saw more of katelyn’s other little brothers :(

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards maybe spaniard and croatian? pretty sure the face model i chose for him is part italian, though.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: he was difficult for me to decide on, because i feel like canonically he kind of presents as just a tan white man, but i like to think of him as a mix of northern italian and romanian!

𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀: i personally view cadenza as being a little mix of scottish or irish, with her pale skin, ginger hair, and big blue eyes, it just makes the most sense to me.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀: puerto rican mayhapsies?

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 & 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄: i’m not sure why, but i always thought of dante and gene as being mixed with being hispanic and asian ever since i was younger. in my subj3 fic, i more specifically wrote them to be half puerto rican and half korean!

𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀: russian/eastern european

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗: i have a face claim for him, but i haven’t thought of specifics on him yet. i’m leaning towards at least part hispanic, though.

𝐇𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐀: i’m not sure, but definitely european.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀: since hyria is white, i like to think lucinda is half white and mixed with a little greek and a little indian from her father!

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀: based on her name and her character design being clearly based off of japanese culture, i view her as being fully japanese!

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆: if not clear by her last name, she is so very clearly german to me. both by her last name and her coloring.

𝐓𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐘: jamacian

𝐊𝐈𝐌: ukranian

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄: mostly indian, and a small bit african

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋: i don’t know, he honestly just exists in my head. if someone could pls let me know what ethnicity the face model i chose for him looks like, that would be great!! ty!

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄: mainly dutch!

𝐑𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍: wasian, i’m so sorry but i haven’t put much thought into specifics for him 

𝐈𝐕𝐘: english

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘: half english half spaniard

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗: surinamese chinese

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈: her name is japanese, but she has that pretty tan skin and those green eyes, so i’d say she’s part japanese, part filipino, and part kazakh! i'm aware her face claim isn't accurate to this, sorry ;^;

𝐄𝐈𝐍: i had a really hard time deciding on him. i feel like he’d also be native american and some puerto rican as well

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎: belgian

𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍: peruvian

𝐊𝐀𝐈: i think he’d be wasian, ¾ japanese and ¼ irish (ginger)

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍 & 𝐊𝐈𝐊𝐈: brazilian and egyptian

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐔𝐑: genuinely i cannot see him as anything other than a nerdy british man so that is what he shall be

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐍: very obviously based on her coloring, she is also european of some sort. though, i haven’t decided specifics. it would honestly be so fun if her and kenmur were the stereotypical nerdy british couple though. so cute

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍: scottish

𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀: since her village was in the water, an ethnicity from a northern european country by the water made sense to me. perhaps dutch?

𝐘𝐈𝐏: native american

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀: scottish and dutch

𝐙𝐎𝐄𝐘: tall and sharper features fit the “elven” phenotype, so i think she’d maybe be estonian?

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈: undecided

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍: undecided, though i’m leaning towards just making him british lol

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀: half native american half latina

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐓: undecided

𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎(𝐍𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄-𝐓𝐀𝐍): half japanese, quarter korean and quarter hispanic.

𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈: hispanic, korean, and german, though he looks more like dante than nicole.

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄: german

𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘: french

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 & 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍: german and french (obvi lol)

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐘: persian

𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀: german

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄: persian and german... i guess? he got most of his looks from his mom

𝐉𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘: english/british

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍 & 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐃: undecided. idek man i just put them in here cause they make me giggle lol

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘: sean

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my posts as your own.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @arienic @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

[ihaveabuckyproblem]

He Had It Comin’ | D.D.

Summary: Daryl once told the group that Merle wasn’t a r@pist, but no one could deny the way Merle looked at you.

-

Warnings: fem reader, sexual harassment, attempted r@pe, protective!Daryl, villain!Merle, set in Alexandria, (we’re just gonna act like Merle never died), death threats, triggering threats, crying, guns, pinning, etc.

-

You were groggy, things all confusing and hazy in your awakening state. The sunlight barely creeped through the curtains as they failed to cover all of the window, allowing the golden rays to shine into your face. The urge the open your eyes got the best of you, so you did, and immediately groaned when you were blinded by the sunlight.

After a couple more seconds, you were coherent. You didn’t have to turn to see that Daryl was sleeping peacefully beside you. He had one arm propped under his head, a force of habit he never was able to break away from. His other arm was holding onto you, feeling as though someone was about to pull you away from him at any given moment and he’d never see you again. It always amazed you how strong he was, even while he slept.

Moments like these brought a small smile to your lips as you wished you could stay here in this moment forever. Nothing brought you more peace, you were the safest you’ve been since the world fell and the dead rose.

You could feel Daryl’s steadily paced breaths warming your neck, his face nuzzled into it. You knew you’d have to get up soon, but everything in you was telling you not too. To stay here, wearing nothing but Daryl’s t-shirt and a pair of underwear, while your lover slept next to you as if there wasn’t a world outside of your shared room.

Suddenly, your peaceful thoughts and blissful mood were interrupted as your bedroom door is quite literally slammed open. You felt Daryl’s body tense immediately as you both shut up, Daryl’s hand already reaching for the knife under his pillow.

“Rise and shine!” As if seeing Merle standing there wasn’t enough, his voice rang loudly throughout the once quiet room. Immediately, Daryl relaxed, but rolled his eyes.

“Get outta here, man.” Daryl raised his voice at his older brother, throwing his hands up.

You hadn’t taken your eyes off the older Dixon. And he sure as hell hadn’t taken his eyes off you either, the way your bare legs looked exposed like that mind his eyes have no shame. You shuddered in disgust, immediately throwing the blanket over your body.

Daryl caught onto his brother’s creeping eyes and stood up out of bed, stomping over to Merle.

“Stop bargin’ in ‘ere, asshole. Yer creepin’ her out.” He growled at him, spitting his words out like venom. Merle smirked, finally tearing his gaze off you and looked at his little brother.

“I can’t help but look when my sweet baby brother got himself a nice piece of ass hanging around.” Merle spoke without shame. This made Daryl’s blood boil, he pushed Merle back and out of the room before slamming the door back shut. All you could hear was Merle’s descending laughter as he walked away.

You wanted to be shocked, like you didn’t expect it. Like this wasn’t normal. But, truth be told, Merle’s behavior towards you has always been that way. No matter how many times Daryl threatened to smash his skull in or take off his other hand, Merle said and did as he pleased when he pleased.

“‘M sorry bout him, he’s an ass.” Daryl muttered the last part to himself as he walked towards his dresser, intent on getting ready for the day.

“I think it was a mistake to let him move into the basement.” You muttered, letting your dislike for Merle seep into your tone.

Daryl didn’t say anything because he knew you were right. He hates the way Merle speaks to you, it isn’t okay and it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s enough for him to want to send Merle to an early grave. But, Merle was blood, the last family Daryl had.

“I’ll talk to ‘em.” Daryl reassures, sending you a “I promise” look.

~

Hours had passed and you hadn’t seen Daryl since this morning. After getting dressed and ready for the day, you parted and went your separate ways. Daryl had been positioned with Rick today on supply runs while you were on training with the kids.

The day was going great, the kids were going through their training wonderfully. Even Adam, the little boy who is scared of his own shadow, did wonderful knife work. It made you proud seeing how far they’ve come.

All that pride washed out of your system when you felt another presence. You didn’t move, standing there with your hands on your hips, observing the children. You felt uneasy, as if prying eyes were on you. And they were.

Merle had been passing by the training grounds when he spotted you. You have no idea how long he’d been there, just watching, eyes glued to your ass. He sexualized you worse than any man ever had and it was disgusting. You were a big girl and you knew how to fend for yourself, but having to fight against the living is the scariest thing you ever had to do.

As long as Merle kept his distance, you didn’t care. You knew how jealous he was that Daryl had you and he didn’t, but that wasn’t your problem. He needed to learn respect.

All of a sudden, you felt a quick pressure on your backside, causing you to stumble forward.

Did someone just smack my ass?

You whipped around faster than you could imagine only to be met with the serious yet mischievous stare of Merle. He had that uneasy smirk plastered on his face that sent chills down our spine.

Oh, your blood was boiling. The nerve he had to put his hands on you, his brother’s woman. You could hear the kids still continuing on with their training, oblivious to the creep in the area, but all you could see was red.

“Now, that’s a nice piece of-“ before you could let him finish his sentence, you reared back your first in seconds, giving it all your force as you felt your knuckles come in contact with his cheekbone.

Merle was on the ground in seconds, looking at you with pure shock. You didn’t hear the children practicing anymore, so you knew you had eyes on you. Your senses came back to you and that’s when you looked down at your red knuckles, instantly getting hit with the sharp pains throbbing in your hand. You gripped your wrist and hissed.

“You bitch!” Merle hollered, making your head snap up.

“Watch your tone or I’ll rock your shit again,” you snapped at him, coming down from your adrenaline high, “Get out of here. They’re just kids, they don’t need to see anything else.”

You didn’t give him the time of day to respond before you turned your back on him and walked away. He gathered himself and left, but not without griping and complaining, muttering a bunch of curses and threats under his breath.

An hour later and you couldn’t bear the pain in your hand, your fear is that it was broken. You made up some lame excuse and told the kids that training was done for the day. You made sure they all put their knives back into their holsters and told them all what a good job they did. After the last child made their way home, you realized the sun was on its way to setting. Letting out a sign, you gently grabbing your wrist, keeping your hand steady as you walked to Carol’s home.

-

“This looks bad, Y/N.” Carol said softly, having a delicate hold on your injured hand. You winced, trying to bite your tongue from the pain.

“You should see the other guy.” You joked, only, it didn’t come off as humorous as you hoped. Carol was quick to look at you, concerned, before reaching for her medical kit.

“This is from a fight?” She asked.

You scoffed at how funny that sounded to you. It was better than your joke.

“It was less of a fight and more of a promise.” You spoke truthfully. Not keeping the truth any longer, you informed Carol of what happened. She was upset for you, to say the least. Carol was your best friend outside from Daryl, so she already knew of your worries when it came to Merle. She didn’t like him either but she was always worrying about you living in the same house as him.

“Are you gonna tell Daryl?” She asked, putting the last piece of gauze tape on your wrapped hand.

Daryl.

You forgot about the fact that you would have to tell Daryl. He would question your hand… and you never lie to each other. It was an unspoken rule and brutal honesty was a big factor in your relationship.

You bit your lip nervously, how do you tell your boyfriend that his brother smacked your ass? Your thoughts became overwhelming, Daryl loves his brother. But he also loves you. What if he thinks you’re making him chose?

You mentally laughed to yourself at how ridiculous that sounds. After Carol finished your hand, you looked out the window, seeing nothing but the deep setting sun. All the light was almost drained from the sky, you could tell the moon was about to make its appearance.

Thanking Carol, you bid your goodbyes, knowing Daryl was probably home. After leaving Carol’s house, you tried not to think about the situation. It wasn’t worth the stress… Merle wasn’t worth the stress.

It wasn’t long before you reached you and Daryl’s home. The lights were off, meaning no one else was home. You sighed, dragging your feet up the stairs. He must be somewhere with Rick unpacking whatever supplies they brought back. You smiled to yourself thinking about the man you love.

You made your way into the house, kicking off your boots at the door. It was dark in the house, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the windows that you could make your way around. Your body felt so tired and your hand was starting to throb again. Why did you have to strike him with your most useful hand?

You shook it off and deposited your holster belt on the kitchen counter. The weight off your hips was relieving. You arched your back, giving it a good stretch.

Then, you felt something cold pressed against your head. Your body tenses almost instantly, your heart rate speeding up in seconds. You knew what that was. Anyone in Alexandria would recognize the feeling of a gun pressed to the back of their head.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Merle mocked, his voice flooding your ears.

For fucks sake.

“Bet that hand feels just about as good as my face, doesn’t it, honey?” He chuckled, taking a step closer. You closed your eyes and took and big breath in and out- you couldn’t show him your fear.

“What do you want, Merle?” You seethed. You were eyeing your holster belt that was only a couple feet away that held your knife.

“You know what I want baby.” His voice was low and hungry, now pressing himself against your back. As if you weren’t tense before, you were stiff as a door now. He moved the gun to press to the side of your head, grabbing your hip hard. Your winced in pain at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, but he had other plans than just that. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and slammed your body down onto the counter, making you bend over it as sharp groan leaving your lips.

This was happening. This was really happening. The sudden realization of the situation you were in made a wave of fear come crashing over you. All the jokes, the comments, the stares… This is what he was thinking about? Forcing himself on you over the counter?

No. This can’t happen, you weren’t gonna let this happen. Merle was ripping off your shirt when you came to your senses. This was enough for you to throw your head backwards and into his mouth, making him holler in pain. To your surprise, he even dropped the gun.

You stood up and wasted no time, you didn’t even look at him, you just bolted. You ran towards the door, but couldn’t even twist the handle before you were ripped away from it. You screamed in protest, but your vocal cords gave out when you felt a hard hit to your head.

You were pulled to your feet by your hair before being punched in the face again, immediately falling back down to the floor. You cried out in pain, kicking and screaming, refusing to go down without a fight.

“Go to hell!” You scream, spitting a large wad of saliva into Merle’s eyes. He jerked back and let you go, dropping you so he could wipe his eyes. You scrambled to your feet, but tripped over his large boot that he stuck out in front of you. Your body hit the floor hard and you landed on your already injured hand, causing a scream to ripple through your throat. You were silenced by a kick to the stomach, your eyes widening as the wind was knocked out of you, sending you into a coughing fit.

Having had enough of your resisting, Merle knelt down between your legs, flipping you on your back as he pulls you closer by your legs. You cry and try to fight back, but the harsh blows you endured did a number on your body.

Merle had his hands on the zipper of your jeans when the front door opened and shut. Both of your heads snapped to the doorway the same time Daryl looked up to see what was taking place.

Your face was bloody, your lip busted and your forehead gashed. You looked like you had been crying as you wheezed, still fighting for air. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen and your stomach was red, looking abused. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything, your eyes said enough as they pleaded for help.

When Daryl finally laid his eyes upon his big brother, he was blinded with rage. All the color drained from his surroundings as all he saw was red. Merle didn’t look sorry, or guilty, or ashamed of what he was attempting to do- only disappointed that he didn’t finish the job.

Daryl didn’t utter a word as he took 3 big strides and rocked his fist into Merle’s jaw. There was so much force behind the punch that it made your body jerk.

Merle was pleading with his little brother, but Daryl didn’t care. No one lays a hand on his woman, no one lays their hand on you, and lives to see the next day.

Even through the tears in your eyes, you could see the blood bath Daryl was making of Merle’s face. With every colliding notion of Daryl’s fist to his brother’s face, Daryl would grunt, but never uttered a word. He never threatened Merle, never asked why, he simply wanted him dead.

And Daryl did just that. Daryl beat Merle until Merle stopped pleading, moving, and breathing. You looked on as Daryl stood over his dead brother’s body.

At the realization that Merle was dead, you finally broke. Your body shook in sobs and you covered your chest with your arms, holding yourself as you cried. The love of your life just killed his brother- and you felt guilty.

“Shit, Y/N-“ Daryl bolted over to you, kneeling down to your level. He pulled your body into his lap, holding you close.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Daryl.” You choked out, avoiding the lifeless body on the floor just a few feet away.

“Yer sorry?” Daryl questioned, “Y/N, he was hurtin’ ya.”

“He was your brother-“

“I don’t give a damn.” Daryl said sternly. You grew quiet at his words. Daryl gently cupped your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“Yer the only one I care ‘bout. He had it comin’.”

Daryl reassuring words left your mind at ease, but, you were still shaken up. You and Daryl sat there for god only knows how long as you held onto him and cried. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and held you tight. He promised himself to never let you go.

~

[tarjapearce]

PLEASEEE MORE OF YPUR MIGUEL ANGST IM BEGGING YPUUU

This is a bit of Mama's side of the aftermath 💔-

Pt. 4

At every step you gave further from the burning mess, the deeper the knife he had plunged with his words buried inside your heart.

He doesn't love you.

Your eyes closed, almost loosing your footing in the process of stair descending.

He's disgusted by you

Mind kept chanting the terrible truths and doubts mostly of your family planted in that little brief time you had shared. A constant and eternal reminder to not come close again.

You had to stop for a minute to catch your breath so your brain could alternate between weeping and breathing.

Fucking Normal

His words still rang in your head, his tone as glacial as a blizzard. But even so, the blizzard felt safer since you would close your eyes to shield yourself from the snow. But how could you shield yourself from his piercing and judging glare? You had no armor against that cause in truth, you never felt needing it whenever you were with him.

He had disarmed you bit by bit, stashing your emotional armor behind in a vault only he knew the combination of, cause he made sure you'd never need it again, but now, you were left bare before him. Stripped, bare and shunned.

Was this one of his tactics? To make you feel loved, cared for and needed, to then just discard you?

He never loved you

Nausea clawed at your throat as the anxiety drilled and forced itself into your brain and guts.

You went home in a cab.

---

"Sweetie? W-What's wrong? You ok?"

Jess' words only reopened the wounds, fresh blood oozing from them as you clung to her and sobbed onto her shoulder as soon as she opened her apartment door.

"What happened, babe?"

You just hugged her as your breakdown spilled from the seams, unable to hold it anymore.

"M-Miguel..." Your throat choked as you tried to wipe your tears.

"He never... He doesn't..." You tried to hold your breath and voice steady so you could properly talk. But none of it was happening.

"He doesn't love me" You blurted and Jessica's eyes went wide.

"What are you talking about? He lo-"

"H-He thinks I'm just like my family, Jess..."

Your throat constricted again and she held you tightly.

"I know you warned me about him"

Jessica shook her head as she caressed your hair and sighed upon hearing your mourning heart speaking for you.

"I should've listened"

"I'm here with you, Sweetheart."

"He knows our of everyone that I'd never hurt him..."

"I know you wouldn't. You don't have to justify yourself to me, babe. He better apologizes. He needs to"

Your head shook.

"He doesn't want me. I can't be with someone that doesn't want me."

"C'mon, don't say that. We both know you love him"

"That's exactly the problem Jess! I know I love him, and right now I wish I didn't cause he hurt me with his stupid thinking that I'd judge him! He-" You sniffed and gave a shaky breath, "How can I trust him when he said I was just like them knowing that I don't get along with my family?! That I barely talk to them!" More sniffling came as Jess pulled the tissue box for you.

"You... you should've seen the way he looked at me."

You had to breath in between choked sobs to make coherence of your words.

"It hurt and still hurts so bad..."

Jessica's lips pursed in a straight line as she saw the few belongings you had left on Miguel's with you. Your necklace gone too. A necklace she had helped Miguel pick for you, to officially ask you to date him.

Shit.

Despite the anger coursing through her veins like molten lava, she knew that the only thing she could do for you was to be there as a friend. She'd deal with him later. Right now, all she could do was to drive you home, provide you tissues and a shoulder to cry upon, and help you to get the remnants of his presence out of your apartment. Our of your system. Out of your life.

Each item had a little of his essence still etched to them. A couple of hoodies that smelled like him. Faded cinammon and leather like with a tiny tone of your lavender detergent. A pair of his sunglasses that had his greasy fingertips imprinted on the black glass, and the t-shirt you had shared your body for the first time with him.

A t shirt you had begged him to keep, due the meaningful moment shared with him. As corny as he thought it was, he allowed you to keep it, after praising how good your thighs looked when you wore it.

And now, it was tossed to the box of mementos, ready to be sent back to their righ owner.

---

"Is bad..."

"You think!?" Sarcasm dripped, laced with venom on her voice. Jessica sighed and rubbed her temples as Peter was probably rubbing his face.

"Look, I'll see what I can do, ok?"

"You're not understanding, Peter. She just packed in his stuff, she wasn't wearing that necklace. And she was definitely having an anxiety attack when she came to me. I don't..."

She had to take a sharp inhale of air before speaking again

"I give two shits he's our friend. But he crossed the line. I'll give you his things for you to hand them over to him."

"Right. Right."

Peter sighed once more.

"I swear... Sometimes Miguel just..."

"He's acting like an ass, stop coddling him!"

"Im not. He's had it rough."

"And so his now ex girlfriend! And she doesn't go around, treating people like shit just cause he's unable to properly manage and sort his emotions!."

Peter just rose his brows in surprise at her words.

"W-What happened anyways?"

"They went to meet her family. Things didn't go well, I think, and they had a fight back home. She said that he told her that her family believes him a freak. You know how he is regarding that."

"Shoot... I'll try to talk some sense into him. If I find him that is. You know he just... isolates."

Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Let me know if anything happens. She's asleep now. Had to give her some sleep gummies. Babe needs a break."

"Of course. Nights then."

Peter hung up and Jess pulled the box on the living room. As much as he wanted to give Miguel a piece of her mind, she knew this was something he had to solve on his own.

At least, for tonight your broken heart could find some fake and momentary peace. Jessica just stared at your sleeping form and then at one of your pictures with him in your mirror. A small strip of kissing booth pictures, something you had probably bribed him to try.

A soft yet genuine smile on Miguel's face as you kissed his cheek with a loving grin.

"Dammit, Miguel"

Jessica Mumbled, unsure of trespassing your intimate bubble and hide the picture away. She just closed your door and let you rest instead.

[snek-panini]

I actually didn't mean to let nearly two weeks go by since my last bookbinding post, but somehow time has just slipped away from me till now. For today we have a pretty simple one, though:

This is Postcards from Paris, by ghostrat, a story that I asked to bind way back at the beginning of May. It's a Good Omens human au, involving letters received by an unintended recipient and a long sequence of getting to know one another via writing. I love epistolary stories and wish they were more common both in and out of fandom, and this one's really soft. Like the whole last chapter makes me feel all rosy and warm. Go read it if you haven't, it's wonderful.

More photos and such under the cut!

The cover up there is chocolate lineco book cloth with blue metallic htv. Like with many of my small-sized binds, I tried to not buy anything specific to this one and instead make something coherent from what's already on hand, and that philosophy lent itself well here. The story's about getting to know someone with only the verbal impression of them, not even their voice but just the words they choose and their handwriting, and has a lovely feeling of being overwhelmed by their physicality when you finally meet in person, and I think the stripped-down feeling of the bind fits that theme. It's deceptively simple, and you won't realize how deeply you're in love with the story until after you've read it.

Top view, with blue ribbon bookmark, and slate-blue plain cardstock endpapers. I'm pleasantly surprised by how well all the blues match, considering the htv was bought for another project, the endpapers were bought in a multi-pack for another different project, and the ribbon probably was cut from the shoulder of a fancy shirt. I really would have liked to do custom blue-and-brown end bands, but at barely 80 pages the book's too short for that so it's got premade ones in black and white. The front hinge wouldn't behave when I cased it, so it's got that weird wiggly part and I don't know why. I've used this cardstock for endpapers before and never had that issue, so it's a bit of a mystery.

Interior photos. The stripped-down, simple philosophy persists. About the only theming I did was to choose a handwriting font for the larger text, which seemed appropriate for a story told in postcards.

Random interior of typeset. This thing has so many scene breaks, my god. I sincerely thought about picking two handwriting fonts and putting all the postcards in those. They would have been opposing ones so you could tell who was writing without the scene break lines, but it was too difficult to read at this font size and looked kind of messy, so I didn't. I always size down the font a little for quartos, because the full-size one I use for folios looks weird on a half-size page, but this is the only time I've found that decision working against me.

And that's that! As always, I hope I did the story justice with this bind. The designs feel right when I make them, and I hope others agree. I've still got two more books to post from this late spring batch, so those'll be up over the next week or two.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Death of Me

It was official. You were going to murder your husband. How many times had you told him to be careful. To not put himself in harms way anymore than absolutely necessary. He’d always tell you not to worry while giving you that damn smile that had you believing every word he said. And now you were rushing to the hospital for the second time in the month because of a phone call letting you know that Jethro had been hurt.

Tim met you in the hospital lobby, bypassing the check in and you both entered the elevators.

“How bad is it Tim?”

“Well he’s recovered from worse but you’ll definitely need to keep him from overdoing it for a few days.”

You gave him a look before speaking. “Yeah. And I’ll teach him to speak Mandarin while I’m at it.”

Tim led you out of the elevators and down the hall to his room but stopped you before you headed in.

“Just a heads up. Since he came out of surgery, he’s been a little out of it. I think the Morphine is really kicking his ass.”

“Hm. Well better that than me. Thanks Tim.”

You gave him a grateful hug and walked into the dim hospital room. As soon as your eyes fell on him, all anger dissipated. He was asleep, shirtless and left shoulder bandaged up. His face was relaxed and breaths steady, letting you know he was genuinely getting some good rest.

Not wanting to wake him up, you quietly brought a chair over and settled in it before gently taking his hand in yours. Of course even a morphine induced nap couldn’t keep him from his hypersensitive senses as he stirred, eyes fluttered open. He looked around the room before his sapphire blue eyes fell on you and stared a second before chucking to himself.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, amused.

“My wife is gonna kill me.”

He might not have recognized you in his state of delirium but at least he knew he had a wife. You decided to play along, not seeing the hurt.

“Oh yeah? Because you’re in the hospital for the 2nd time this month due to your over brazen behavior?” you tried hinting, wondering if it would bring back some lucidity.

“Nope. Because you’re holding my hand. And she haaates when other women touch me.”

Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Well she probably just loves you too much to share you with anyone else.”

He nodded and let go of your hand, placing it on his chest while taking a deep breath.

“Yeah. She loves me. Even when I don’t deserve it..She’s great..I wish she was here..”

Your heart broke at his melancholy words, not wanting him to think you wouldn’t show up to visit and couldn’t help but reach out to touch his arm.

“Jethro. I’m your wife.”

“Right. And I’m the king of Shri Lanka,” he joked.

There wasn’t much you could do if he wasn’t coherent enough so you settled for just sitting there next to him. After a couple of minutes he fell back asleep and you took the opportunity to take his hand in yours again.

————

“Y/N?” someone spoke, waking you out of your nap. You picked your head up from the side of Jethro’s bed and saw him looking at you in slight confusion.

“Hey Gunny,” you greeted lovingly, sitting up and grimacing at the stiffness.

“Have you been here the whole time? What time is it?”

“It’s around 6pm. You’ve been asleep since about this afternoon. Surgery went really well, I’m sure you’ll be up and chasing more bad guys again in the next couple weeks.”

You got up to pour him a cup of water as he went to try and lift his bad arm, wincing immediately, making you roll your eyes at his stubbornness.

“I don’t care if I have to lock you in your basement for the next week Jethro but you’re going to let your shoulder heal properly,” you threatened, handing him the water.

“A week isn’t necessary-

You shut him down with a look that rivaled his own and he sighed in defeat.

“Oh by the way, do you remember talking with me earlier?” you asked curiously.

“No. What did I say?”

You laughed at the apprehension in his voice and took his empty cup to set it on the table.

“Well you had no idea who I was. And chastised me for touching you, saying your wife wouldn’t be happy about it.”

“Mm. I’d say that gets me a point in the honorable husband category,” he stated proudly.

You laughed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right. How about I make my famous Chicken Parm for us tonight?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” he responded with a small smile.

“Damn right you don’t.”

You gave him a well waited kiss and thanked the universe for the moment. You don’t know what you would do without him and you hope to never find out.

[autonomyofadeer]

your ambessa x sevika x reader was SO good i wish it had a bit of comfort from sevika at the end tho😭 but fr u write amazingly i loved it <33

heyyy my bad lol! i wrote that at 4 am after a long day of work.. to make it up for you, here you go!☺️

! sevika x reader fluff !

summary -;- after a one night stand with a woman you met at the last drop last night, you wake up in the morning in her bed. what more could happen?

tags -;- fluff, kissing, domestic stuff really

it was a long, long night. you had met her at the last drop. it was your first time fully enveloping yourself in zauns pleasurable businesses. the streets were littered with children, older men and women, spokespeople, clerics, etc.

you make your way into the bar, a bit nervous from the bustle and quick tempo of the atmosphere. you wander your way up to the bar to the barkeep. i glance up at the menu then back at the bartender.

"first time here 'ey?" a tall and built man asked you. a small whisper of a yes comes out of your mouth.

"no need to be afraid 'ere. names vander, i own this place. whatdya want?" he asks you, a smile never leaving his face.

you order a drink and you take a seat on the edge of the bar, protecting your drink as you people watch.

a little girl with blue hair runs by with a older girl with pink hair closelt behind. people of all sorts, animal people, zaunites, fighters, sellers, the lonely. you name it, they were here. until a certain someone caught your eye.

she was beautiful. grey eyes that shone in the light, a perfect bob with a mini bun in the back. you watched her closely as she shuffled her poker cards. she flicked her gaze up at you and you quickly focused back in on your drink.

'fuck. please don't notice me.' you think to yourself as a faint hue of pink rise on your cheeks in embarassment.

the night passes on, you stole a few more glances from her every now and then.

you decided to get back home before you get too intoxicated. you sit up and briskly walk to the bathroom, turning the corner to fix your makeup in the mirror. the door opens behind you so you shuffle out of the way for whomever to get by. until you heard the strangers voice.

"saw you starin'" she husks out, catching your gaze in the mirror as your blush comes back. you trip over your words for a second before your form a coherant sentence.

"i-im really sorry i am. im new here and i was just looking around- i wasnt staring at-" you turn around and suddenly realize just how close she is. "you.." you whisper out.

"names sevika. what about yours doll?" she whispers to you as she pushes you against the wall.

...

beep. beep. beep.

you shift around in your bed into you roll over to turn the alarm off, except you're stuck in something. you move to push whatever off of you into you realize it was an arm.

a small yelp escapes your lips until you look up, realizing who it was. your cheeks tint pink. sevika raises her arms to rub her eyes as she groggily looks up at you. "hey dollface.." she mumbles to you.

you look at her with confusion, no recognition at all. you nervously chuckle.

"shit- you mustve been real drunk." she laughs awkwardly as she sits up, pulling you into her lap almost. "s'okay. we kinda fucked then went to bed. y'know?" she states to you, as if that was normal.

she could tell from your expression that that was not your usual end to a night. a small laugh escapes her mouth as she leaves a few kisses on your forehead as an apology. "look, i gotta do some errands today for some people. so c'mon." she tells you as she gets out of bed, the shests slipping down and revealing she's still bare-naked.

a gasp escapes your mouth as you close your eyes shut tight. sevika laughs and walks over to you, moving your hands as she put a oversized shirt on. she hikes you up with ease, you laugh softly as you wrap your arms around her neck. her laege hands gripping your thighs around her hips as she waltzes into the kitchen.

she grabs some cereal from the cabinet, along with milk, a spoon and a bowl. she nudges then towards you as you sit down at her bartop. you smile at her as a gesture of appreciation.

"sorry for... yknow.. last night" you tell her as you fill your mouth with cereal.

"you're fine dollface. it was one of the better fucks ive had in a while. might just keep you around" she mumbles to you as she wraps her lips around the base of your neck, shivers running down your spine as she wraps her arms aroujd your waist and pulls you in closer.

this was gonna be a good day.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Tables Don’t Talk // Roronoa Zoro x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kink: Forniphilia [a kink/fetish involving a person being treated as a piece of furniture]

CW: afab!reader; no pronouns used to address reader, but gendered pet names used [ex. good girl]; alcohol use [reader and Zoro]; mild degradation and objectification; praise; vaginal fingering; light d/s dynamics implied WC: 2k // Fictober Masterlist

Zoro’s had too much sake.

That’s it—Zoro must have had too much sake, you reason as you straddle his lap, your thoughts barely coherent through a fog of your own whiskey-tinged lust as he leaves bruising kisses down your neck. His low grunts and your soft moans reverberate in the moonlit quiet of the crow’s nest, big hands gripping your hips and squeezing at the plush of your ass while you brace yourself on the hard, warm muscles of his chest. He must have had too much sake, you tell yourself, he would never mean such a thing—then he says it again.

“I wish I could just set my boots up on you,” he murmurs against the softness of your exposed shoulder. “Make you into a pretty little table.”

You snort a laugh at the suggestion, and the way his warm breath tickles your skin. “Why the hell would you wanna do that?”

“I dunno,” Zoro mumbles with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Because I can.”

“Oh can you, Zoro?”

“Yeah.” He grins, nipping at your jaw. “Because you’ll let me.”

“Who says I’d let you?”

“So if I told you to get on your hands and knees for me, you wouldn’t?” He pulls away from you, thick fingers digging into your sides as he holds you still and lifts his hips against you, letting you feel the swell of his clothed cock against your heat. The arrogant grin that’s painted across his face says he already knows the answer to his question.

You sigh and groan, feeling a flood of arousal between your thighs, knowing you don’t stand a chance against that smug smile. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

He runs his tongue along your lower lip before taking it in his teeth and giving you a nip. “Then get down on the floor.”

“You’re serious?” you muse, eyebrows raised.

“Only if you want to, baby,” Zoro whispers, his thumb running over the sore spot on your lip from where he bit you. “Not gonna make you do a damn thing, you know that.”

Of course you know that, he’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do, which is exactly why you always want to. It’s why you always follow direction—on your knees, lay on your back, open your mouth for me sweetheart and show me that pretty tongue—knowing that listening and obeying earn you the sweetest rewards from your swordsman. Obedience begets generosity, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

You hold his gaze and grips his wrists, tugging at them until he releases his vice-like hold on you. He bites his lip as he watches you slither to the floor, arranging yourself on all fours in front of him, the perfect approximation of a footstool if you say so yourself. “Like this?”

“That’s perfect, baby.” He wastes no time before he sets one heavy boot-clad foot on your back, then the other, crossing his legs and placing his arms behind his head. “Mm, I could get used to this.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Nice soft thing to put my feet up on at the end of a long day? Much better than some shitty wooden table. Much prettier to look at, too.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and can already see the shit-eating grin that’s settled on his face as he reclines and shuts his eye; he looks like he’s won a game you didn’t know you were playing. You let him have his fun for a few moments, finding yourself starting to enjoy the weight pressing down onto your spine, before you waggle your hips, trying to tempt him into something else. “Zoro, come on. I’m lonely down here.”

“Hey.” He cracks open his eye. “Last time I checked, tables don’t talk.”

“Zoro.” You add a few more O’s to his name as you whine and shoot him a glare, one that only makes him laugh—you’re no threat to him on your hands and knees like this, trapped underneath him, a lovely little object for his personal use.

“Let’s see what a good piece of furniture you can be.” He takes his boots off your back and plants his feet squarely on the floor. “Here, hold this.”

He grabs your half-full whiskey tumbler from beside him on the bench and leans down, setting one hand on the small of your back to steady you before gingerly setting the glass in between your shoulder blades. You shift at the sudden feeling of the glass’ weight, and it goes tumbling to the floor, splashing alcohol into your forearm.

“Tch. Look at all that good alcohol gone to waste.” Zoro stands from his spot on the bench and slowly begin to walk around you, arms crossed, almost inspecting you, this unruly piece of furniture. He squats down in front of you, roughly grabbing your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your head up so you meet his patronizing gaze. “You need to be a better table.”

He releases your chin and gives you a couple soft taps on the cheek before picks up the glass from beside you and fills it again—this time with a little more liquor. You watch silently, anticipation coursing through you with every beat of your obedient heart, waves of desire crashing on your shores. It was a request made on a whim, an off-handed remark that you wouldn’t have even acknowledged normally—yet here you are, eagerly waiting on your hands and knees for the man you desired, willing to act as his footstool if it means pleasing him.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Zoro says as he carefully rests the glass on your upper back, pressing it down into your clothed flesh before releasing. You dip your chin towards your chest to straighten your back, spread your fingers wide on the smooth wood floor to give yourself balance, and breathe carefully—slow and measured, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breaths, feel the weight of the whiskey glass almost start to settle into your body like it’s meant to be there, your concentration only occasionally broken by the soft groans that come from Zoro as he watches you with a perverted fascination.

At last, he grabs the glass and you relax your posture, turning to watch him down the amber liquid; he gives you a wink as he licks the last drops from his lips. He kneels in front of you again, leaning down to gently press his lips to yours, just enough for you to taste the vapors on his breath, just enough to make you whimper when he pulls away, aching for more.

“Good girl,” he growls, words that make you vibrate to your core, make you press your thighs together to stem the urges, try to quell the insistent need. “I think this is too easy, though.”

“What do you mean ‘too easy’?” you rasp, watching as he pours another glass of alcohol, this one fuller than all the others, almost spilling over the rim. He begins to circle you again like the tipsy apex predator he is.

“What did I tell you, baby? The furniture doesn’t talk.” He drops to his knees behind you and grips the waistband of your shorts and your panties, yanking them down over your hips, rough hands picking up each of your trembling legs in turn to tug your clothing down and off. You hear a low hum from behind you, feel a warm palm start to caress the swell of your ass, trailing down and across your thigh. A gasp leaves your lungs as a wide finger runs over your slit, running through the slickness of your folds.

“Mm, so wet,” Zoro coos, pressing a fingertip against your entrance, hissing through his teeth as he feels the way you pulse. “You like serving me, don’t you?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” The lie that you quickly conjure is hollow, tinged with an unmistakable need.

“Maybe?” he chuckles, sliding one thick finger inside you, then another. “This doesn��t feel like maybe, does it?”

“N-no,” you stammer, choking on a moan as he thrusts his fingers inside you, pushing them deep, deeper still until his knuckles press into you. The warmth that spreads through your thighs as he plunges in and out of your needy cunt is so all-consuming that you barely register the weight of the whiskey glass being placed onto your lower back. Zoro crooks his fingers, pressing against that spot inside you that sends sparks down your spine, and your hips shudder in response—just enough to cause rivulets of liquor to dribble out of the glass and onto your body.

“Careful now—you spilled,” Zoro admonishes you, voice tinged with condescension as he licks the spilled whiskey off your bare skin, still lazily pumping into you. “What do you think will happen if you knock it over again?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Well, try not to find out then.”

You bite down on your lower lip and clench your eyes shut, trying to ignore the way his fingers feel moving inside your heat, how you vibrate inside with every stroke of your walls. You try to ignore the way your stomach tightens and the way your thighs shiver, as they always do when he hits every spot in the way only he knows how—he’s studied your body with the same intensity that he trains, learning just how to have you writhing under him with little more than the flexing of his fingers inside you.

“Zoro, please,” you keen, tension coiling so tightly inside you that you could snap, “please, I wanna cum.”

He pauses his ministrations, chuckles low and deep as he places a soft kiss on your hip. “And when did my little table start making demands?”

“Zoro, please, I need it. I need you.”

“Only because you asked so nicely. Be good just a little longer, and you’ll get what you want.”

Zoro pulls out of your dripping cunt, and you whine at the sudden emptiness; he drags his thick fingers down your slit, landing at your aching clit. Your legs tense and the glass wobbles, but you still yourself despite the urge to buck your hips, press against his fingers and grind against his hand until you extract your pleasure from him. Deep breaths in and slow breaths out, you clench your fingers into fists on the floor and fight the urge to grind against his hand and take what you need—but no, you won’t give in. You’re a good table, after all, and good objects get rewards.

“Look at you, controlling yourself so well. You’re such a good girl for me, you know that?” He takes the glass off the small of your back and sets it beside you on the floor. “Now you can lose control.”

The tension finally snaps and pushes you over the edge in a burst of ecstasy, rhythmic convulsions overtaking your body. You say his name over and over as a plea to continue, as a thank you for the reward he granted you, as a means of showing you know who you belong to, down to every shiver and spasm.

“Mm, that was fun,” he murmurs, swiping his fingers through your drenched folds as you twitch and quake through the last waves of your orgasm. “You make a nice table after all.”

“Do I?” You can’t help but laugh at how absurd it all is, how debased you feel being reduced to Zoro’s own personal coffee table—yet it leaves you with a strange sense of fulfillment, too.

“Yeah, you do. But you know what?” You hear the rustling of fabric, and suddenly feel the throbbing head of his cock pressing against your still-pulsing entrance, pushing slowly into you. “I actually think you make a much better cocksleeve.”

[starglitterz]

♡ AMERICANO.

❝ baby, take a chance on me! give me one sign and you will see. // crushing on the local barista ❞

✧ feat : xiao x gn!reader

✧ a/n : FIRST POST OF THE YEAR!! yk it had to be my beloved xiao <3 here's to a fourth year with my baby hehe

✧ note : this is a very late entry to ying's cafe week for the prompt americano !

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

“uh, hi. could i please get a…” you flash what you’re certain is the most awkward grin of your life at the poor barista, who’s currently running the cashier as well. you swear you’re never the type to hold up a queue, pondering for ages over what to drink to get – in fact, you always get the exact same drink. it’s just that the way the barista’s pretty amber eyes almost seem to gleam in the late afternoon sun has you stumbling over your words, barely able to form coherent sentences; it’s so embarrassing you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, you're lucky there's no one else in the line behind you.

“your usual?” he raises an eyebrow, a few strands of jade hair tumbling out of his loose bun to frame his face, and holy archons this man is such a masterpiece he belongs in a museum. you gape at him for a few seconds, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish before you realise how stupid you must look and you scramble for a reply, “how do you know?!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a smile, “you order the same drink every time.” you’re fumbling for a retort when he continues, “and you come here three times a day.” now you’re ninety-nine percent certain your face is on fire.

“that’s true…” you mutter sheepishly before making a valiant attempt to defend yourself, “but maybe i just really like coffee!” “i think you drink too much coffee,” he chuckles softly as he writes your name on the cup. you’re freaking out over the fact that what has to be the world’s cutest barista is actually aware of your existence, he recognises you instead of seeing you as just another customer from the endless throngs of students that flock to the campus coffee shop daily. then you gasp, “wait. how do you know my name?!” he lifts an eyebrow once more, “i just told you that you order coffee here three times a day. you say your name every time.” great. now he definitely thinks you’re an idiot. it’s not your fault that all your braincells seem to fly out of your head every time you see him!

“oh.” you laugh weakly as you pull your wallet out of your bag, “that makes sense.” mentally, you’re slamming your head against the wall, cursing yourself for being so head-over-heels that you can’t even carry a normal conversation with the barista. as he types your total, he suddenly murmurs so softly that you have to struggle to catch it, “it’s a pretty name, though.” “o-oh, you think so?” the compliment makes your brain short-circuit, but thankfully you manage a proper response, “i like your name too… xiao.” saying his name out loud almost makes you spontaneously burst into flames, which honestly would be pretty inconvenient for the rest of the customers in the coffee shop. not to mention you doubt it would endear you to xiao if you exploded in the middle of his workplace.

you aren't sure if it's just your imagination, but you think that xiao's ears look a little red as he taps on the screen in front of him. then he clears his throat, “you know what, today's drink is on the house.” “what?! really?!” your eyes light up and xiao meets your gaze for a split second before looking away, the faintest pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he starts making your drink, “yeah.” your heart's beating at a million miles per hour from just this small interaction, but you swallow your nerves and give yourself a pep talk as you wait to receive your drink. you never know unless you try, right?

and as xiao turns to give your drink, you blurt, “icouldtakeyououtonadate!” he blinks slowly, cat-like, and furrows his brow in confusion, “sorry, what did you say?” doing your best not to melt into a puddle on the ground, you mumble, “to make up for the free coffee, i could take you out to lunch or something.” there’s a pause, and you quickly continue, “only if you want to, of course!” you're cursing yourself for even daring to be so bold, there's no way he'd want to go out with a caffeine addict like you- “i'd like that.” his reply is so unexpected you look at him incredulously, “what?” “i said, i’d like to go for lunch with you,” now xiao's face is bright red, and he's gripping your coffee cup so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

at this point, you think that you could jump over the moon. “oh! that's great!” you beam, and xiao thinks that your smile is like the sun, “maybe sunday?” “sure,” he smiles, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen, “it's a date.” he turns away after saying that to hide his blush, and with the biggest, cheesiest grin on your face you reply, “yeah, it's a date.”

(and later when you finally drink your coffee, you realise xiao has scribbled his number on the side of the cup. maybe all this time you were crushing on the local barista, he was crushing on you too.)

wahhh i missed writing 🥹 i tried something new with this one, i usually prefer writing confident and flirty readers so i hope this is okay for a first time hehehe. hope you enjoyed! <3

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[soshadysoquiet]

TUA S4 thoughts.

Below, spoilers.

Okay. Lord gonna need some strength to get through this coherently.

Basics first:

The Music: Maybe 2-3 good songs. Dissapointing. Let's talk of a mo about Baby Shark: to me it wasn't funny, the song being such a social media present one in this world really took me out of the show. Yes sure the funnies of parents having to listen to kid music and them being stuck that way but I really wish they'd taken the time to make an original annoying jingle. TUA is usually such a delight for the ears that this hurt me bad! Plus they then kept changing whether the song was on or off, seemed like Diego could control it somewhat, but then why would he turn it back on for them riding into the final battle?

The Dialogue: Felt forced and cheap in places. They can use the word 'fuck' now and seem to therefor have decided they don't need to make the characters have witty insults for each other.

The 'Themes' of the show: Why has my quirky family drama been turned into a 90's romance film. Who asked for this. No.

The "Plot": When your own characters don't care about the plot for the sake of shindigs you think will be more entertaining then you know you fucked up. It made sense the first 2 series them having side quests. Less so in the third. Even less so now. Literally at times they had to say to each other 'oh yeah shouldn't we find Ben?' I'll be here in the corner raisining. Also they came up with these 'stages' for the apocalypse but had one guy throw up, a couple things go boom and then they merge, it was one of the least threatening depictions of apocalypse I've seen - though that could be that it wasn't shot in very interesting ways.

Also side note for why there were so many shots that started upside down and rotated? Like I get if Klaus is upside down, and yeah the umbrellas are inside out, but it (plus the Bennifer monster) gave me too many stranger things vibes.

Now the sub-cast:

Jennifer: Love that for 1/2 the protagonist of the apocalypse she had little to no love put into her character, I legit kept forgetting her and Ben were part of the storyline. I loved that she was birthed from the squid, but why put something eerie and cool like that in and make it have meant nothing? Such a waste.

The villains [Gene, Jean and Abigail/Psy(sp?)]: Whilst I liked the idea of memories infecting the timeline, literally all of these guys was Tell don't Show. And for a series with only six episodes I do not want my time wasted with some side-character villains getting a dance number over the main cast. Despicable. Also there were WAY too many villains here especially if you then also count Reggie as one. Literally make Jennifer be trying to link up with Ben and coercing him (then Viktor could break through to him briefly from past experience of a similar relationship - the symmetry is nice) and have Abbigail be pulling the strings. There were so many side characters of no import that I lost track of the main cast. Hell, make Kenny's Mom be the bad guy I'd have loved that! Also, I like that Abigail was somewhat evil, but then they tried to make her good too? No thank you. Pick a lane not everybody needs redemption.

Special RIP to Diego and Lila's twins that Never Even Got Names 💀 fucking hell that's lazy ass writing.

Now the main cast:

Viktor: He deserved better, why bother to introduce that he's had a girlfriend, slept through the entire town, and owns a bar when you then don't talk about any of it. He's told to 'grow up' it's so specific, what does it mean? Also since last we saw he was the sort of ride or die for his love type (with both Leonard and Sissy) this is a frustrating turn with no explanation. Also his whole fight with Reggie and getting things off his chest arc felt forced and not as well written to me. And his character seemed to have been given zero changes from the last 6 years. I miss when his powers actually had a sound element to them rather than just, Havoc from X Men hands. You're taking the Viktor out of my Viktor.

Allison: We have no explanation of how she and Klaus found each other and fell in together. No info of how she and Reggie parted ways. We only hear that 'Ray left her' and nothing else. She says no one wants her at the party but then seems to know Gracie? Has she talked with Any of them since? Nothing was addressed from the end of last season, or even referred to being addressed in the past. I don't see the point of her new powers, or any of them having slightly off or new powers when then some of them don't? Either way, her rumours are so classic and now she's floating people? I see the link and if they'd been developing new powers over 6 years fine but no. You're taking the Allison out of my Allison.

Luther: Praise be, I did like Luther this season. He mentioned Sloane (shock horror, a love interest from a time gone by being brought up?!?! In TUA!!??) he was cracking me up and was really being Best Boy. Although I felt a lot of his dialogue was flat, and it seemed really out of character for him to start attacking the piñata? I don't think we've ever seen him physically lash out unless angry? It looked to me like 'oh yeah here's another silly gimmick that will be a haha. Diego, sure. Luther, no. They also decided (not surprised but always so disappointed) to make him getting ape-i-fied again humorous and not the soul destroying thing it would be. Also, why was he ape-i-fied??? His ape-ness came from the serum not the marigolds? Generally though, I really did enjoy him this season.

Diego: Love that we're throwing every over used marriage-in-pieces trope in the book at these two. Love that. Especially as they seemed to have sorted out some of their communication issues. I get their trajectories but was so deeply, Deeply bored watching it. Diego was sadly pretty dislikable for the whole season, which was real sad because I had grown to love him. There were some funny moments don't get me wrong, he's got too much personality to be a boring character, but whilst they didn't have to have a perfect marriage it was so dull and in hindsight such an obvious set up for the bleh that was to come. Plus they threw in a 'don't make me turn this car around' type moment to show how 'he's a parent now look wow' but I can't imagine any of the siblings hearing that and not laughing at him.

Lila: Again, marriage and wrong-conclusions and it was so boring. She's such a fun character and she was reduced to 'ooo how can we make her be a cheater and with Five' Why do you even need to do that? I just feel sad about it. And it doesn't help that we Don't Know Two Of Her Kids Names and neither her nor Diego seem to think of them for however long they're on the road, and she mentions them only once in the 7years of subway hell and both of them seem relatively undistressed without them. Sure, parents do need a break, but if you don't care about the kids visibly you know for sure I the audience member ain't gonna. Also why the eye lasers save for again a brief gag? It makes no sense when she then also has mimics abilities?

Claire: Let's give Claire a side note at this point. I do so hate it when shows decide to make children their parent's brains and moral compasses, take little to no time to show any bond between parent and child until the last 2 episodes, and instead choose to spend that time showing us how naturally fractious a relationship they have. Love that, so much. Never seen it before really. I get it's normal, but when ever other part of the show is cookie cutter predictable I don't need this too. Give her an actual personality that isn't "the wise old rebellious teenager"

Ben: Wow. So glad that A) I had to hear a character explain crypto currency for me, so glad we wasted precious time of a 6 episode series on that. B) Ben had changed 0%. C) that he had Even Less input and impact at the end emotionally than in any previous season and this one was About Him! And do you know why? Because D) they basically used star-crossed-lovers-can't-help-ourselves and made him use every creepy stalker OTT moving way too fast line in the books especially when Jennifer at a lot of moments was verbally saying she wasn't into it.. Also why does he talk about her like he's a 12 yr old and, idk, it was a shame to have no real impact from him until the end when he's suddenly scared and pushing Viktor away to save him but we see no connection from him and Viktor previously as to why he'd listen it would make more sense if it had been Klaus or Luther at this point.

Klaus: Now, I know a lot of his storyline this season came from the comic, and sure it's good material, that should probably have been used Throughout the seasons rather than crammed into 1 day. But let's chat for a hot mo: Now I like that we got to see him be nasty rather than the precious uwu Klaus that I've been guilty of perceiving at times, and that we see some of the negative effects of addiction on the family for the first time. Great moments, important. BUT. I'd have felt his rage out at Allison and turn to drugs would have been a lot more impactful if they'd bothered to show him waking up to the sound of being screamed at, barely able to hear his siblings, struggling to focus on them and wanting to drown it out. But we don't get that, the horror of what this means for him. Then we proceed to got through this whole let's have him want to get shot by a drug dealer (don't quite get why - or how Claire knows he's immortal now? did the powers back thing ever come up??) have him kidnapped and forced to prostitute himself, take more drugs (but still use his powers?) Develop a new power though without using the comic's fun quirk that he has to take his shoes off, and then bury him alive. Wow. this guy had plenty going on, but sure. Then -he can save himself, I thought this might become something poignant - he's able to conjure the dog to Go to Allison and lead them there, but no, he just gets rescued again. Gee I wonder what grave he's in Mom? All I don't know Claire, how about the Only One That's Been Dug Up? I thought it was really interesting to see his moments as a teen with Allison, and how he was living with her and thought they handled the worry about death/germs etc thing well tbf. Though also how the hell did he get home from being 13 hrs away and why nobody cared to go with him was pretty low.

Five: Dear lord that moustache was awful and I'm glad they all called it creepy and he had no concept. I despise 2 things they did here: made it canon that he gets romantic with Lila. Made going back into the literal apocalypse that he spent time having flashbacks about barely if at all affect him - it's unsure if his hesitation going back into it the second time was hesitation to go in there, and that's what I hoped they would do, but then, no. no. Please, Pleeaasse don't take away this nice, safe space I had in this nice, safe 'you literally can't sexualise him with anyone it would be so problematic' character and say 'they held out 7 years but yeaaahhh they hook up.' don't see why it was needed. It didn't 'heal' him, it was a plot for conflict but I've got plenty of other conflict plots that can end with Lila and Diego fighting without having to make every damn character have a god damn love interest! I loved their bond before, it was so fun and special to see a male and female not have to fall in love, and they ruined it. And it was for nothing? And they didn't have time to make the 7 years feel like 7 years and it was lazy writing for cheap conflict in my opinion. I hated it, I hate that it's "canon". I don't think I can describe just how awful I found it and unnecessary. I also don't buy that Five would be willing to not drink the marigolds as much as the others, or that there would be a timeline full of given up fives that sit around a diner. It was fun to watch though. And up until they started the montage in the subway and we knew where it was going I was enjoying Five in this season. that boy has had such a shit life and this is how it ends?

I will say that the flashback to them as kids was my favourite part of this series. It's always good to have a little deeper insight into how they interacted as children but I do have some Opinions here too of course: Reggie saying 'you look ridiculous' to Viktor, no, he made their outfits? I felt that was lazy writing when Reggie in the past has laid into Viktor's insecurities much more keenly: 'That outfit is only for your brothers and sisters / we've been over this, you're not special take it off / I will not have you wasting time with frivolity when the Academy has important work to do, leave us." etc. Also I thought there might be something different about why they all forgot their Ben memories. It was brutal yes, which I appreciated, but I can't believe that these guys wouldn't see their father kill their brother and not One of them flip their shit? Idk, it was a little... good and bad I guess.

I think that's it for now, if anyone read this far then well done! I might write a fix it post in a bit for my own entertainment.

[frankiebirds]

goddddd motel scene time. i have a lot of thoughts on it and hopefully i'll be able to put them into some kind of order.

ELLE: After he shot me, he reached into my wound so he could write on the wall in my blood. I was barely conscious, but I...I could feel his hand in there. And sometimes it's like I can still feel it. REID: Elle, he's dead. You're...You're right here. You won.

obviously this is an unhelpful thing to say. i dont think that makes reid evil, or a bad friend, i think it makes him a twenty-four-year-old who's struggling to understand a situation he's never been in.

i dont think elle resents him for it. im sure there's frustration, deservedly so, but i dont think it's targeted at reid, more at the general sense of Nobody Is Getting Me. especially this expression here:

in the moment, this doesnt read to me as anger. it's certainly not a happy smile; she's not comforted by what reid says because it's not a comforting thing to say, and i think it sort of develops into anger later, but in the moment, she doesn't resent him for not being able to say the right thing. again, there's frustration, because he doesn't get it. he can't (not yet, anyway). a part of her wishes he did, a part of her wishes somebody did, and yet a different part of her hopes none of them ever do, because it's an awful, awful thing to understand.

i headcanon that reid and elle stay in contact after elle leaves, but i dont think its immediate. i flipflop between two reasons

reid doesnt reach out because he feels guilty, like if he had just said the right words in the right order in that motel room, she would have stayed. i think this is generally how reid responds to abandonment (and sometimes just conflict in general). if i had just said the right thing, done that differently, been better, i could have fixed it. boy is...a little emotionally stunted. if he was a stage of grief he would be bargaining. do you get me.

reid does reach out, but elle doesn't respond. maybe she's still angry about him not being able to Get It, maybe she wants to distance herself from the bau in general, maybe him not Getting It hurts in particular because they were quite close, etc.

either way, they get back in contact post s02e15, when reid texts her a barely coherent rambling apology for that night, how it was an unsympathetic and unhelpful thing to say, and he does get it now, and he's sorry, there is no winning—

she calls him.

[lurkingshan]

Love for Love's Sake Episodes 7 & 8

Well holy shit, that went in some directions I never imagined, and it was very dark indeed. I can't believe this intriguing little show is already over. So let's unpack what happened here.

My interpretation of everything we learned in these final episodes is that Myungha already died by suicide in the real world after a series of hardships, including the death of his grandmother, a long-term struggle with depression, and rejection from his ex and his mother, and the author gave him a chance to live again in the game world. The ending suggests he will now stay in the game world with Yeowoon and get another chance at life where his core objective is to make himself happy, and any expectation we had that he would have to return to the real world is out the window, because his life there has already ended.

But what exactly is this game world? I don't think we'll ever fully know for sure. Certainly, the show did not explain the how of it, or tie together all the vignettes we saw of Myungha and the author discussing their philosophy on life in a clear throughline to how we got to the game. The game world was purportedly based on the author's fictional novel, but all along it has taken on the features of Myungha's real life, including all the significant people we saw in his first life flashbacks. His grandma is here, his mother is here, his ex is even here in the guise of Yeowoon's agent. Myungha's memories and consciousness seem to inform the way this world was built, even as he did not create it. The author is given the role of Creator, somehow designing this world for Myungha to try to find happiness via seeking to make someone with very similar experiences to his happy.

Now, on this point, I don't think everything that happened in the original iteration of the game totally holds up. The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness, and the point where Yeowoon seems to discover the game and somehow intervene to pull Myungha back in was lacking some clarity. And I wish the show had grounded us in Myungha's experiences earlier on rather than holding everything back for the sake of mystery--I do think that choice got in the way of a more coherent emotional arc for our protagonist.

But despite those quibbles, I still was able to connect with Myungha's struggles. This is a boy who has been so mired in his own misery that he doesn't know how to let anyone else in. He is too afraid to trust and let someone care for him in the way he cares for others. I wanted to reach through the screen and strangle him when his own emotional paralysis caused him to destroy the game--Yeowoon was telling him exactly what he needed, but he couldn't find the strength within himself to give it to him. And this is why knowing Yeowoon is exactly what he needed to see a different path for himself, because Yeowoon has experienced many of the same hurts but still finds within himself the ability to trust and rely on Myungha. Yeowoon is the stronger of the two of them, and Myungha needed to learn from him to overcome his own cowardice. Their happy reunion in the game world felt earned, and I believe in Myungha's ability to try again at both life and this relationship without holding back this time.

This show definitely wasn't perfect, but it really did some interesting things and left us with a lot to think about. I am looking forward to reading everyone else's interpretations of these final episodes, and Myungha and Yeowoon will be staying with me for a long time.