#if you know the correct response which you've gone out of your way to learn bc you love someone

[moe-broey]

"His loved ones keep him grounded and kind" appeal is not "I can fix him" but more "I also really struggle with empathy either having too little of it or having way too much (which Isn't a humble brag and is actually super fucking annoying and is generally useless and hinders more than it helps)" -- The only truly consistent and reliable thing that is in your control is compassion, which is a skill you have to learn, which is something you cultivate, ultimately because of love for the people who ground you and also love for everyone you have ever cared about and wanting the best for everyone in general beyond yourself!!!!!

[prael]

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

-

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

-

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

[warsofasoiaf]

When it comes to Joe Rogan, I’m of two minds. On the one hand, he doesn’t really take responsibility for having a large platform that clearly reaches and influences a lot of people.

On the other, if you’re primarily getting your medical and political information from Joe Rogan podcasts, isn’t there a bit of personal responsibility that needs to be taken from the individual?

I would love for people to take personal responsibility to vet the information that they consume and are exposed to. Not only would that weed out the cranks, but it would improve the quality of genuine sources and prevent filter bubbles. Contrarians and freedom to question are an essential part of the information ecosystem and avoiding groupthink, which creates a much healthier population overall. That's not going to happen though.

One problem is quantity, there is simply too much information for the average Joe or Jane to fact-check. If you've ever heard the term "big data" and know what that industry is all about, you'll know that there's simply an enormous amount of data out there that needs to be made sense of that simply can't be done by the normal human brain. We've not only been making algorithms to filter out the noise and get only the parts of data that are useful, but we've been designing machine learning to be able to automate that, to train computers by programming to recognize these things simply so we can produce useful knowledge out of massive data sets. We only have so much attention span and so much time to spend researching to find out what is true and what isn't.

The other problem is qualitative, you need expertise to be able to determine what's real and what's pseudo-realistic bunk. Charlatans from throughout history have used the seeming appearance of knowledge to grift people that don't have the specialized knowledge to know better, and I know this from personal experience. These days, disinformation is carefully curated for maximum psychological validation that causes the listener to self-curate and automatically tune out any evidence to the contrary. Just look at any of Putin's or Medvedev's speeches at how they are carefully tailored for everyone from tankies to alt-right tradcons to pick and choose a line to run with to further their grandiose delusion of reality. Rogan might just be engaging any sort of contrarian on his podcast to appeal to his target audience, but if you don't know anything about the subject, you might believe whatever bogus study was commissioned because it sounds authoritative and you don't have the knowledge to correct it. This comes from a guy who is highly critical of some of what academia does - particularly history departments - you do need experts and they do need credibility.

In an ideal world, we'd have trusted sources of information, institutions with the weight of validity behind them, but unfortunately we simply don't have that these days. Part of it is the institutions' fault, they are reluctant to admit when they're wrong and the idea of promoting healthy debate has long gone out of style in favor of a quick serotonin high castigating any dissent as immoral. Technology these days has only contributed to the information overload which curates filter bubbles and groupthink for maximum engagement. But a lot of it isn't, there's plenty of malicious actors who use every trick of the trade to prey on people because they don't know and are too busy to be able to figure it out. Click-based algorithms, short attention spans cultivated by TikTok and Twitter, and highly sophisticated disinformation programs have done a lot of harm to the information space.

What I'm at a loss to do, however, is find a way to fix it in a practical sense. A truth and information board would simply become co-opted and corrupted and anyone who doesn't believe that is either a damn fool or hoping for the power to be the arbiter of truth. Letting the information space lie has not produced a sort of self-correction. Sorry to end it on a downer, but that's just how it is.

Thanks for the contribution, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[ptolomeia]

can you share more about being/becoming an elevator mechanic? i've been idly daydreaming of working in a manual trade for years now and your response to the "i don't want a career, i want to do crafts" post just kind of... snagged a hook in me and won't let go.

Ooooo! Welcome to the wonderful world of elevator mechanicking! Though I should warn you, it has its ups and downs :P

Okay, now that that obligatory pun is out of the way, first thing you need to know is that it depends on where you are. If you are anywhere else in North America than Quebec, what you're gonna wanna do is contact your local International Union of Elevator Constructors chapter and ask them how to go about it in your area. If you do live in Quebec, the two routes are through the Labour Pools (check out the CCQ website for more info on that) or getting a DEP at the only trade school to offer it in all of North America, which is located in Montreal. Though, the program is only offered in french, so you'd have to speak French.

If you live in one of the very many places outside of North America, unfortunately, I have no idea.

Okay, onto what it's actually like doing the work.

So far, I don't have any actual work experience, just class experience, though I am hoping to get a job soon. Just taking a bit of a break during the summer.

So, what's it like? Challenging, eye opening, empowering, incredible, fascinating, and so much more.

I've gone from thinking +/- 1/16th of an inch was an impossible tolerance to meet, to regularly meeting +/- 1/64th of an inch tolerances. I've learned an insane and empowering amount. Whereas before, electricity and mechanical work were something of a mystery, because I'd been denied opportunities to explore, I've now changed all the light switches in my apartment to dimmer switches, and I'm currently working on building a trellis cage I designed for my plants.

My physical health and mental health are both WAY up. It can be hard and exhausting, and you need to eat so much food to keep yourself fueled (seriously, I need to eat 4 meals a day and it irks me because I have to remember to eat 4 meals a day, anyway), but also incredibly rewarding. Because I'm exercising much and meeting clear and concrete goals every single day, my mental health has improved spectacularly. I spent 6+ years of my life pushing through intense depression and elevator mechanic school was the first time in all those years where I would wake up and want to take on whatever the day offered.

In terms of physical health, I'm in better shape than I've ever been. It's easier to move in my body than it's been in years, and my body is much more capable of doing more tasks. It's wonderful to experience.

There's definitely discrimination. If you are a woman, or if people will think you are, be prepared for that. It's definitely gotten better over the years. It's also definitely still an issue. For me, the benefits far outweigh the idiots, but I can't promise it'll be the same for you.

Honestly though? I'd been daydreaming about being in the trades since I was 14. It took me 12 years to finally get my ducks in the correct rows to allow me to take that step, and my only regret is that it took me that long.

If you've been day dreaming about it for years, go and give it a chance. The worst that will happen is you'll find out it isn't for you, and you'll have more information to find something that is. If you are looking for permission or a sign from the universe, this is it. Go go go. You might find yourself happier than you ever dreamed possible.

Feel free to send another ask if you have more questions, or to update us if you take the leap! We wish you all the luck in the world on your journey!

[bannedfromtheaters]

Hi. I'm sorry, I know you worked really hard on that video essay. It was wrong for me to suggest that you should've done something different. I have no experience making them, so i shouldn't have been critical. I promise I won't go on either of your blogs again.

Alright, you send me a similar ask I think about a month ago where you'd say you would never come on my blog again and to me that seems like an incredibly unhealthy reflex to just mea culpa your way out of a conversation and disappear. That's why I invited you to my DMs so we could talk about it on equal footing without an audience (my 1k+ followers).

I already had invited you to come talk to me in private after your initial two asks, but since you haven't contacted me outside of anon, I assume it's still too high a barrier to approach me that way.

And either you're trying to troll/provoke me into a public response (which is rather menacing) so I'd prefer to think our exchange is still in the back of your mind 6 weeks after it happened. So, I have to change tactics to wrap up this exchange somehow. Sooo... here goes. I will discuss a few points you send me in the second ask and this one. I will not publicize the very first ask you have sent since you've shown regret of sending that. Hopefully you will read this response, feel like you understand my point of view better and we can both have some sort of satisfaction with our conversation. This way you don't have to come off anon since that still seems like too big a step. This goes under a cut to have some sort of privacy in this public space...

First thing I want to address is the way you're last three asks have this very "please forgive me" kind of tone.

It was wrong for me to suggest that you should've done something different.

Apologizing is one thing, and that's fine! So let me first thank you for your apology. But then you go on and say: I have no experience making them, so i shouldn't have been critical.

Please, please, please, please never stop being critical and just accept things as truth. It's good that you reflect on media (even videos with less than 1k views lol) even if you never produced a movie or film, you can still engage with it meaningfully. And yeah, it definitely is good to keep in mind like "hey. I never made a video / movie / tv show myself. Maybe there's a lot more going on than I assume", but don't silence yourself because you're not an expert on a subject.

Ask questions! Be curious! Learn something new! But ask those questions without presumptions. Instead of casting judgement on me for having talked about a subject in the third act you think could've gone differently. You could've just asked: "Hey! I really liked your video. I was wondering why you talked about Mulan vs. Toph in the third act. I honestly was expecting you'd talk about ATLA and its treatment of male and female characters in general, since it's so unique and complex, especially for children's television in that age. So what was you reason for discussing Mulan instead?"

You're basically still asking the same question. You're still saying you kinda hoped I'd talk about the thing you'd wanted me to talk about, but you leave the question open! Now we can have a dialogue. Instead of me needing to "defend" myself for the choices I made.

That's the main thing I was a bit flabbergasted by with your first ask. You had a judgement ready based on your presumptions. I honestly didn't care that you assumed my race (which was correct, by the way, lol). What I cared about is that you put me in a position where I had prove I wasn't being "a bit problematic". I'd rather not start a dialogue where I have to instantly go in defense mode. It doesn't make the conversation neutral. It makes it taxing and I'd rather not waste my time on an internet kerfuffle. It's draining on both parties.

I'm really sorry for assuming your race and thinking you were talking about culture that wasn't yours, it was wrong.

I honestly think it's incredibly unhealthy if we stopped talking about cultures that "aren't ours". What I read here (and what I see a lot online) is this flex to be overly cautious of not stepping on someone's toes. Thing is... you won't go through life being able to avoid stepping on people's toes. How you respond to stepping on someone's toes (or being stepped on your toe) to me is a thousand times more important. That's where conversations start. That's where understanding of the other person is born.

I also didn't talk about a culture that wasn't mine, because I didn't really talk about the culture at all? First of all, neither ATLA nor Mulan is an Asian production. So if you find it problematic that a Dutch person talks about a tv character and show they're passionate about—online, produced entirely in their free time, for free on the internet to watch forever—boy should you dislike Mulan and ATLA for being produced by big American studios, released for big networks and the international movie industry and having a very US centric team with a few experts as consultants.

I find it valuable to hear from Asian people. How they see all kinds of Asian symbols and customs and traditions just thrown together in a pot and stirred together. But that's not something I can talk about! I'm not Asian. Nor did I study Asian cultures. Nor did I spend a significant time in one of the many Asian countries to even notice what these video essayists have noticed and pointed out.

That is indeed not my experience, and I'd feel forced if I had talked about or mentioned it without the proper knowledge. But those other creators probably never thought or experienced what I saw and experienced with Toph!! Our experiences are different, but both are valuable.

It's why I believe "write what you know" is terrible advice. Then we only get dull slice-of-life stories about mediocre men in their thirties. It is a sentiment that reeks of disinterest for the world around you. No thank.

I love learning about different cultures! I love talking to my friends who live all across the world. I love talking about my own culture to them and learning something new about my culture! Like, I remember how I was talking to my friend about the Dutch "wandelvierdaagse". Four days in one week where you walk a significant distance. The biggest version of that is each year in Nijmegen where people walk 30km a day (so 120km a week....)

We did a 5 to 10km variant of that when I was in elementary school. We sang songs together while walking through cities and nature. And while I was just talking about my childhood experience my friend went: Sam... what the fuck are you talking about??? It was the first time I even realized that this fond childhood tradition I had, wasn't universal. To me it seemed like it could be! That's when I started googling and I learnt that it—apparently—has a military background. How walking together (marching back in the day) together was ensuring comradry. Makes sense! Never would have figured out the history of my own country's tradition if it wasn't for my friend who was confused about something that is very ingrained in the Netherlands.

It makes you appreciate other cultures while simultaneously reflecting on your own culture and the environment you grew up in. And yes, there's obviously a line you cross when "claiming" a culture. But we should never stop being curious about other cultures and wanting to learn!!

And claiming a culture I did not do in the video. I didn't criticize the cultures. I analyzed the different takes Mulan and Toph had on gender and in particular, their tomboy leads. I analyzed how different they got treated by their own narratives and why Mulan didn't "click" with me and why Toph did.

I thought since you talked about Toph and your own gender identity, that you could've talked about the idea of gender in the show.

That could've been a really good option, yeah! I think one of the reasons ATLA is so beloved (and still holds up so well) is because their female characters are so well fleshed out. The reason I didn't do this is because this video was based on one chapter of my thesis. If you know anything about theses, you'll know they have to be very narrow in their subject.

I definitely thought about analyzing the amazing female leads in ATLA, but that would've blown my analysis wide open and would've gone way off subject for my thesis.

For the video I followed the base line of the chapter in my thesis, but tried to make it more digestible and fun for a YouTube audience. I again didn't talk about the amazing female leads in ATLA, because I wanted this video to be focused on Toph. Also, I do believe there are plenty of (great) videos on ATLAs amazing female leads already. Adding my take to the pile would've just been "what they said" and added nothing valuable.

That's why I discussed Mulan instead, because I've never really seen my take be discussed online. I know Mulan is incredibly beloved franchise, especially amongst queer people! I know I'm in the minority here on my opinion of Mulan. That's fine! I still tried to make my case and tried to explain why I never felt that way. But like I said in the video, you're not ""bad"" for liking Mulan.

I did change my opinion on Mulan, however! My thesis analysis of Mulan had based itself primarily on a different academic essay which was very skeptical of Mulan. Thanks to the video I mention in the segment, I actually looked deeper into the source material and adjusted my analysis. My points became stronger because of it. I'm thankful for it.

This became incredibly long, but that's why I wanted to discuss this in private. It's a very nuanced conversation and this format, Tumblr, the internet as a whole, is kinda bad at that.

Hopefully you understand my decisions and reasoning better without needing to come off anon. Truly, you don't have to feel ashamed for it and you do not have to vanish off the face of the earth for having made an oopsie. ;) You apologized. I'm fine. And I hope with this response, you'll be fine too! 😊

[bromineiscandy]

Ah ha! Just as I suspected, you've grown in the short time since our lesson!

Just enough that I don't feel the same strange, violent urge that I had when I read your previous responses! You're saved from my barely bridled rage and feral instinct to destroy another day! Ha ha ha!

Now to your responses.

Why did this lesson take place? I embraced someone without permission from the higher ups.

Correct! Well done. However, you've missed a little bit here. You did something without consideration for the potential consequences, ones that are much more severe now that you are a creature of the night eternal. That rot inside you spiraling and consuming breaking you down from the inside out while the world decays you from the outside in in a sickening display of that which is held haunted in the hearts and minds and lives and thoughts of others and others and others and others. I've lost my point! Ha ha ha! Returning to it. You did not consider the consequences. The death of a mortal creature is of no consequence to me, but I am much older than you could imagine at this point I am sure, and you are but a fresh writhing thing from the womb of the wyrm! Besides that, you're inexperienced! You hardly know what to do to survive in the world without being directly chained to the life and mind and thoughts and clawing gritted teeth and spilt blood over lost and gone forsaken and hopeless quadry that which begs the question of why couldn't I have done different! Do you understand?

What is the importance of blood bags? Food that is quick and easy, doesn't draw attention or hurt anybody.

Correct! Well done!

Why should you listen to your assigned sire (Mr. McZyne)? Jackie is always right. He knows what is best for me.

You're half right! But only half right in the right half you were right about! A quarter correct! Jackie? Always correct? Ha! Don't make me laugh! That fool may be doing his best but any Ventrue is so far lost in their own mangled thoughts and clear coat instructions written hung up on the wall neat lines and letters and never repeating never overlapping never needing that which it is the ink running down the page and oh what a laugh what a laugh they cackle and cry in that place that dark place that place where I can see her now even now oh even now after all of these Years, that indeed they so often tend to lose track of the things that are important outside of them! Jackie is far too proud to take things in a softer, more gentle approach and has thereby put it to the world and your fear to control you and force you into the very position that you are required to be in without shaving down the edges properly. You can't force a square peg into a round hole without causing serious damage to both parties. You on the other hand were shot up a few times! Ha ha ha! That was very funny! An excellent showing of Mr. McZyne's character if you ask me! Ha ha ha!

More to the point, the latter half of your statement is half-right. A decent attempt at understanding, but falling just short both in part due to a near total lack in experience in any other setting and that pesky blood bond you're under for your own good like some feral, bleeding beast in need of care, chained and muzzled to administer some much needed care. Mr. McZyne knows a good deal about time amongst the undead and dying, though a younger specimen of the kindred we see around here, he has experience that far outshines your own. He is a fool, however, and does so deeply need to learn a better way to handle an animal whos been bad.

Why should you not embrace without permission? It can really fuck people up, then you have to kill them, which isn't the worst, but is pretty messy and stresses everyone out.

Further to my previous point, you lose touch with your humanity with every embrace. A permanent stain upon the soul that has been damned to an eternity of misery and torment. I do mean this in a far more literal way than you may believe. Be careful there chuckaboo, you'll end up a horrific beast with no further remnants of the person you once were. A thing to be destroyed. Destroyed. Destroyed. A guaranteed fate worse than the death you may desire awaits you! Ha ha ha! That is not a joke.

What will happen if you do this again? Kill them. Dispose of the body.

I appreciate the enthusiasm but you've just barely missed the point of this question! Ha ha ha! See, yes, if an accident happens you need to dispose of the evidence in some way. However! What I meant, Joseph, was if you embrace someone like this again, you may very well be killed. Now don't give me any lip about your potential ideation mister! I know you care about that partner of yours and it cares about you. I know it far too well with how disgustingly sachharine the two of you are in public. Absolutely wretched! It makes me sick to see! Ha ha ha! That is a half joke!

Don't do it again! Ha ha ha!

What have you learned? How to clean up my own messes without damaging Jackie's image.

An interesting response! Missing a few points I would have hoped to see, but here we are! Consider my message seriously Mr. Gunn.

Pray to whatever you think will listen that I do not need to visit soon!

: )

[admirableadmiranda]

I'm sorry if you've already answered this question. I was just wondering how ridiculous it is for both Jiang Cheng and JC stand to continuously blame WWX for the fall of Lotus Pier. It's been a minute since I've read the book, but if I recall it correctly, it was a few weeks (at least) after WWX and LWJ were rescued from the Xuanwu cave before Wang Liangjiao came to LP to demand 'punishment'. And there's also the fact that the Wens moved on BOTH Fish and Qinghe before LP. Gusu had done nothing to incur their the Wens wrath, yet they were attacked first. And yet I've seen a few posts going around saying JC is justified in his treatment of WWX because he caused the downfall of the Jiang Sect.

I've answered variations on it before, but I don't mind doing it again.

And Jiang Cheng himself knows that Wei Wuxian isn't responsible. But his mother put the idea in his head that he is blameable in some way and he tends to follow her lead. And you are correct that not only were there a few attacks already on Great Clans, but also the Wen had been trampling over and absorbing minor clans for a while! They all know that the Wen are acting this way, just think back to the Waterborne Abyss when all Lan Xichen has to do is point to the sky and they all - including Jiang Cheng - know exactly what he means.

Jiang Cheng never actually forgets this either, he just wants to turn the anger lasting in his heart onto someone living so he doesn't have to figure out how to live without it. He takes the blame off of Jin Zixuan for provoking the Wen when Jiang Yanli is engaged to him again, he stops blaming Wei Wuxian at the end of the book, but keeps his anger at Wen Ning alive. He's just spent so much of his life being angry at people for things that are long past that he doesn't even know what to do without it.

Which is kind of really sad when you think about it. To just be so mired in your own anger at things long gone that you just have to keep blaming new people for things that you know they didn't do so it has an outlet. He knows that Wei Wuxian isn't responsible for the Wen attacking, he knows that Wen Ning has saved his life and his honor multiple times, he knows that Lan Wangji has done nothing to him other than reasonably dislike him for his own personal reasons, but he just can't let that go.

Which is a shame, because if he were able to learn how to do that and move on, he'd probably become a person that people could like. And he could even still put in the work himself and improve. His relationship with Wei Wuxian is dead and gone, but he still has his nephew in his life and he's pretty young and has a strong golden core; he could start to turn his life around if he were willing to work on the bitterness and grudges.

But Jiang Cheng stans really don't like hearing that.

[sweetestbriar03]

"We're gods! Surely there's something we can do," Mariza exclaimed, a half-crazed desperation in her eyes as she followed Samira over the moonlit expanse of the sea.

"Even if we could, Mariza, there is no purpose in wasting so much power and energy for such a selfish and unnecessary cause," Samira said, waving their hand dismissively.

Mariza's expression fell, the fins at the sides of her face drooping from discouragement. "But... I... I can't just- do nothing! She's the only one who can help me remember who I am!"

Samira turned, casting a sharp gaze to the newly-ascended sea goddess. "Who you were," they corrected. "It's best you just move on from your mortal life. You're a god now, and soon enough, all the people and places from your past will fade into obscurity, as all mortal things do after a century or so."

"I was turned into a god, couldn't Delta become one too?" Mariza asked. "Then she would be immortal, right?"

"You'd have to convince one of the current gods to pass their power to her, and good luck with that," Samira scoffed. "Besides, Mariza, you need to understand, you'd just create the same cycle of problems by doing that. Delta would lose her mortal memories, and then you'd try to find a way for her to remember them. Suddenly Delta misses her whole crew and begs and pleads for them to become immortal too! Just give it up, Mariza. Your place in the world has changed, and it's high time for you to start taking responsibility as goddess of the sea. You have a whole group of followers waiting for you to answer their prayers, and that's far more important than some pitiful mortals you feel attraction to."

"But I-"

"Honestly, Mariza, focus on your duties. Before you know it, Delta and her whole crew will be gone, and you'll never have to think of them again. Pirating is a dangerous job, any number of things could rid them from the world. Then we can all just move on, like they never existed in the first place. Once you've lived a few more centuries, you'll learn to stop valuing individual mortals so much. Their lives are simply insignificant," Samira said with a smile, as if the words were supposed to be reassuring.

The words sunk into Mariza's brain like molasses into a sponge, and though she wanted to believe they were wrong, she knew there was an ounce of truth to them. Delta did live a very dangerous life, one that wouldn't last even a fraction of Mariza's existence. That thought was terrifying.

Her knees slowly came to meet the surface of the water, which wrapped around her in a welcoming embrace. Small fish swam up to greet her eagerly, unaware of the sorrow flooding her mind. One of them began to nibble at her fingertips, causing her to snap out of her trance. She dove into the water and propelled herself away from the moon god. She had a ship to catch.

-

Delta's crew, for the most part, was fast asleep when Mariza caught up to them. None of them noticed when she slipped onboard and headed directly for the captain's cabin. The only evidence of her presence were the wet footprints that followed her along the deck. Even the captain herself was asleep, happily unaware of the sea goddess entering her room.

"Delta." Mariza stepped over to the bed, watching the pirate's sleeping figure for a moment before reaching out and jostling her shoulder. "Delta!"

"Hmm?" The captain hummed, turning over in her sleep to face the wall.

Mariza scowled. "For f^ck's sake," she grumbled, waving her hand and summoning a small orb of water to splash over Delta's head.

It seemed to do the trick, though just barely. Delta woke up in a daze, looking around to try and find the source of the water. She let out a scream of surprise when she saw Mariza standing at her side, arms crossed.

"Sh!t, Mari, you scared me. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" The captain sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

"I need to talk to you," Mariza said, her anger fading into concern.

Despite her drowsiness, Delta was not oblivious to the mood change. She tossed the blankets aside and stood, placing a hand on Mariza's arm. "Is everything okay?"

"I... I'm scared," Mariza admitted, looking away. "Samira wants me to stop worrying about you, and to move on, but..." She bit her lip, hesitant to speak the words that continued to plague her mind. How am I supposed to forget about someone who means so much to me? "Delta, I want you to promise me something." Mariza steeled herself, meeting Delta's worried gaze.

"Of course. Anything," Delta said, all too eager to support her beloved.

"I need you to stop pirating. In fact, stop sailing altogether. Retire and live a peaceful life, I dunno, baking or something."

"Wh-what?" The request caught Delta completely off guard. "Did you get drunk again?"

"No! Delta, I'm being dead serious," the goddess exclaimed, gripping Delta's shoulders. "It's too dangerous. You have to stop!"

"Mariza, I can't just stop. This is my life!" Delta argued, pulling Mariza's hands from her shoulders. "I've been doing this for years - my whole crew has been doing this for years!" She shouted incredulously.

"I don't want to lose you," Mariza cried. "I know this is your life, but- please, Delta! It's not safe."

Delta fell quiet, and stepped away for a moment. She turned and walked behind her desk, gazing out at the sea through her window. "What you're asking is... It's impossible, Mari. I can't abandon my crew, and I can't ask them to abandon this life as well." She sighed and turned back around to face the goddess. "I'm sorry."

The ship creaked under the heavy silence that followed. Mariza waited with bated breath for the answer she wanted to hear. Even if it wasn't a solid yes, she'd be happier to compromise than get nothing at all.

"I suppose I could try," Delta would say, "For just a few years." Hell, even just an, "I promise to stop pirating and sail as safely as possible from now on," would be acceptable. But after a few minutes passed, Mariza realized she wasn't going to get those answers. Delta had made her final decision, and it was the one that completely disregarded Mariza's concern for her safety.

"Fine," Mariza said, her heart aching in her chest. "Fine! Do whatever the hell you want! I'd sacrifice my godhood to be with you if I had the ability, but you won't even make an effort to be safe for me! Well, if a dangerous life is the one you want, I'll give it to you," she hissed. "Sail as much as you damn please, but know that everytime your ship leaves the harbor, every day you decide to stray further from shore, the wrath of the entire sea will be upon you! Waves will beat on your hull, and rain will forever fall over your ship!" Her eyes glowed viciously in the darkness as she uttered her curse. "Food will be scarce and fish will be few! Nobody will dare come near your ship for the eels and sharks that will circle it."

With the final words spoken, Mariza threw open the door to the cabin and stalked away, fuming. The waves crashed against the sides of the ship, eager to wrap her in their presence once more.

--

(This is my first time posting on Tumblr, please tell me if I've done something wrong TvT)

Decided to write a small piece based off of the incredible Ocean Idiots universe ^^

Delta belongs to @the-trashiest-pada

Mariza belongs to @shandzii

Those two and @melodyofthevoid are the creators of the Ocean Idiots universe :)

[arllenn]

Staring down at Ruri- no Chime is his name, before you, you can help but feel tired. None of this is making any sense it’s all too much at once.

Bonderev, one of the dickheads behind what happened at black swan bay, had apparently been alive and living well enough to the point where he could give lessons on morality in his final moments. Imagine that! HIM a man who BLEW UP an ORPHANAGE and who had personally shot you and Renata, what he persumed to be, dead! And he had the nerve to ask you to, no- TELL you to protect his son, to not let his actions get in the way of YOU PROTECTING his SON! You’re so frustrated to the point where you’re not sure if you want to burst out into maniacal laughter, break down and cry or just destroy everything in your sight the same way that dickhead had done to you and your family all those years ago.

He had gotten everything and more. A family, a happy life, power and he was freed from all the consequences of his actions. So what about you what did you get? A permanent fear of trusting anyone because “hey I’ve already been used as a genetic experiment by the man I considered a father who then proceeded to blow me, everyone and everything I’ve ever loved to kingdom come! But sure thing nice stranger who I just met let’s be besties!” Makes so much sense. Oh, oh! What about stealing years away from your life! 20 to be exact, man you could’ve been married, had a family, gone to the capital and achieved everything you had wanted to! But no instead what you’re doing is standing here, the same 18 year old who couldn’t do anything to save your friends, your family, as you watched them die in front of you. You’re the person who even in her last moments Renata had to look after and protect. And wow doesn’t that smart, doesn’t it hurt to look down at Chime to see how weak he is, with a voice that trembles and eyes that seem one glare away from overflowing with tears, doesn’t it hurt to look at him and see the worst parts of yourself reflected back at you? The parts you wanted to bury so deep down inside that they’d be forgotten by even you. But here they are, loud and angry and demanding your attention.

Your throat closes in on itself, the hand on your hip tightens. It’s a painful squeeze that’s only purpose is to remind you that, no you can’t cry here, you can’t let anyone see you like that, you cant let yourself be like that, not here. Not in front of people who you should know, who you should trust but who you don't You've spent more time running around for them then with them. It's mean and the ugly cloying feeling that rises up from your chest makes you look back at your relationship with 'your' uperclassmen. Were you even close enough to be called comrades? friends? Most of the time it felt like you were just there. A living phone running to deliver messages from one of them to another. Running errands, throwing yourself into danger or just escaping death for what? People who, people who you- people who you... what even are they to you? Right now your upperclassmen feel miles away from you, both emotionally and physically.

Your nails were starting to dig into your skin in a way that was more then painful. You could feel the moment the skin on both your hip and the palm of your other hand broke. Pulling your lip in between your teeth you try and tune back into the conversation waiting for the right words, for your upperclassmen to throw another request at you so that you can leave, preferably go outside and beat the shit out of one of the trash cans out back before running off into danger once again to fulfill their orders like you always did. And wow, isn’t that something... even now, even now, you’re still just blindly following people’s orders, never asking questions, never saying no. What... what is wrong with you? Hadn’t you learned your lesson already? Hadn't you learned after Herzog that you don't, you can't, just do that. Last time you did that you grabbed onto a rotten rope, a horribly, disgustingly, rotten rope.

"Promsing to protect somebody so recklessly is a foolish thing... nevertheless... thank you." Chime's retelling of his life comes to an end at a convient time. It's perfect really, and so you take that moment, the lull after his thanks, to leave.

You walk out into the lobby of Takamagahara the slow calming jazz music a horrible contrast to the thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you right now. You make it two-thirds of the way to the bar when you're met with an extremely unpleasnt sight that has you cringing for more reasons then one.

Crow and Yasha are sitting the bar, resting most of their belegirantlty drunk weight on the actual contertop instead of on their chairs. They're demanding extra achoul, Crow shouting about how he can't take something anymore who knows what. And yikes heres a thought, Chime Gen is in the VIP room right behind them, those two who, even if they are drunk out of their minds, are Chisei's aides. They find Chime or even gain the smallest inkling of an idea that he may be here and you'll have more to worry about then cleaning up the counters from their drunk cry fest. Normally you'd step in here, and take over for Quinton the poor bartender on duty who always seemed to get the worst of the costumers but you really aren't feeling up to it today.

Just as you're about to turn around to give the trashcans outside the beatings of their lives Crow says something that you can't help but stop at. "You know I like Sakura don't you?" It was a question directed at Yasha who was only able to groan out what he thought was a response. You debate staying for a second. This isn't something that you particularly care about, nor is it something that really concerns you. But it just, you just want to know a little bit more about what Sakura was like before she became another one of Herzog's victims. Its with that flimsy excuse and the puppy dog look that Quinton gives you once he notices you're there that has you stepping closer, leaning against one of the pillars that trap the bar in its own seprate space.

As Crow continues to slur his feelings out Yasha seems to sober up a bit, it's not by much but its to the point where you're no longer worried about him getting into a bar fight, more just what taxi service to call for him when he inevetably passes out and where to send him afterwards.

Yasha leans over the bar apparently ready to give Crow some type of advice when the following happens. 1) he trips and stumbles over his words "Don't.. Don't worry. We are brothers. I... will never... mock you." sweet right? It would've been if not for 2) The fact that he lurches over its a face you recgonize all too well.

"Quinton get out of the-" 3) Yasha hurls all over Quinton, your words left to hang just as Yasha's icky face goop is left to hang off of Quinton. And now you're royally pissed. Sure you were pissed before but this is the type of rage that can only be quelled by you being left alone to stew in it. Its not the emotional type of rage that you felt earlier when you wanted to smash every glass surface you came across no this is the cold type of rage that leaves nothing but apathy in its wake. because as much as you've been trying to ignore it theres so much more that you had been trying to ignore, so much more that had been pushed to the wayside that you're angry about. You look up at Quinton whose looking at you like a lost kid in a mall that had mistaken you for their mother. Running a rand through your hair you harshly scratch at your scalp. "Quinton," you let out a frustrated sigh, "Take the rest of the night off, you'll be paid regularly and you can take extra pay if you wake up sick tommorrow." You turn to him and start to walk behind the counter switching places with him.

“Right thanks a bunch, manager." He rushes out. Turing towards the staff area most likely to change into his extra uniform instead of going home covered in puke. Staring down at Yasha's mess which was covering most of his area of the counter as well as the floor under his chair your annoyance hit an all new peak. It's not the chunky kind of throw up that can be easily cleaned up, its a mush that resembles watery baby food. It's obvious that this wont be a quick clean and that both mops and floor wipes are just going to push this stuff around instead of soaking it up.

Today just can't get any worse can it? Pushing your hand back into your head you aggitatedly rubbed at your scalp, pushing and pulling at the skin there. You’re pissed off. To come back after fighting against Herzog, let’s not forget HERZOG WAS THERE TOO! HE WAS THERE, HE WAS THERE LIVING AND BREATHING, AFTER ALL THAT HE HAD DONE, HE HAD THE NERVE TO GET UP ON THE PEDESTAL THAT HE HAD CONSTRUCTED, DESIGNED AND BUILT HIMSELF THROUGH EXPLOITING THE INNOCENT TO TEST HIS FREAKY DRAGON DRUGS ON, HE HAD THE NERVE TO TALK DOWN TO YOU! ACT LIKE YOU WERE STUPID OR SOME KIND OF PREDETERMINED FAILURE! You get back from that battle exhausted , emotionally drained, and wanting to destroy yourself to find Finger leisurly drinking with Humpback! After you thought that he died you thought that you had lost another person, only for him to be there and fine. It was reliving yes, but just fucking horrible at the same time. So when you stare down at that mess and the first thing you see when you look up is the VIP room that the others are in you felt like you were justified in deciding that you would be acting on your tiredness and handing off this task to one of your upperclassmen like they do to you so often.

Actually you retract your earlier statement today can in fact get worst. Crow and Yasha have apparently had enough to drink both uncoordinatedly slamming down the money to pay for their drinks, you really don't care wether or not is correct you just want them gone, they BOTH step into Yasha's puke tracking it out the door with them. Yeah, no- you're not cleaning that up nope, nu uh, never. You blow out a heated breath and start to walk towards the VIP room careful to avoid all of the face mush on the floor. Pulling on the curtains that served as the door to enter you called out to the occupants.

"Right, sorry to ruin the fun but I just had two costumers who puked and tracked the throw-up everywhere so I need one of you to go out and clean it up preferably like," You looked down at your wrist as though you wore a watch. Truthfully it was just to hide the annoyed look on your face, "right now please." You glanced up at them Before clarifying "Chime I'm not asking you to clean it up, just focus on resting." Because as much as you wanted someone to clean that nonsense up right away you were also specially tuned into just how draining it could be to meet Herzog like that. "Cool thanks guys!" You clapped your hands together and prepared to leave the room when Luminous started complaining.

"Aw, come on no way newbie, I don't wanna clean something like that up!" He put his hand to the back of his head, a tick you had noticed he did when he was complaining, nervous or worried, "Come on can't you do it? You were already out there.." And there it was normally you would excuse that tone as just being something that made Luminous, well Luminous but today the whiny tone was grating on your ears and you were two steps away from man handling him like you used to with Anton when he was being uncooperative. The thought of him hurts. Witnessing his final moments, being there when they happened, it was both the same and different then the others. Sure you had watched all the others die but Anton's had always stuck with you in a way that was far too painful for someone who you really didn't like. And now the urge to cry was back, you felt your eyes burn with unshed tears that were a culmination of too many of your emotions to name.

Caesar brought a hand to rest on his chin tapping away at it, before he even got the chance to talk your anger had already started to peak "Luminous is right newbie, theres no reason for us to do it, you were already out there and knew the areas that needed to be cleaned. This just seems like a waste of both yours and our time." Yeah, yeah, you seriously contemplated grabbing Caesar by his ponytail and using him as a mop for a second.

"You just cleaning it up would've been more efficient." Johann unhelpfully chimed in. Yeah, maybe you would use Caesar as the mop and Johann as the counter rag.

"Yeah freshie! Everyone knows that newbies do all the grunt work, you can't expect us to do it can you?" Fingers nasally voice made you want to throttle him the more he continued to talk. Sure he may have meant it as a joke but you really weren't at the point of caring. In fact you couldn't care less about anything right now. The anger that had just been building had condensed into a vengeful apathy that demanded the souls of those around you.

Once again Caesar spoke this time however you decided to cut him off. "That's right newbie, using my authority as team leader I order you to-"

"Damn I kinda don't care," You said scratching at the back of your head in an obviously exaggerated way. "Yeah actually..." you started mimicking Caesar's earlier stance, "If you're invoking your team leader rights then I'm invoking my manager rights."

"Hey wait-" Luminous tried to interject.

"Yeah as your manager I order you all to have that throw-up cleaned within the next half an hour." A bit long of a time slot, sure, but really who cares as long as it gets done.

"No way newbie team leaders out rank managers, which means my order still stands." Caesar's stubbornness in this situation could be something to praise if not for the fact that a) you don't care and b) you're two steps away from bringing your thoughts of using him as a mop to fruition.

"Team leaders outrank managers when we're out on the field sure, but right now we're in Takamagahara not battling death servitors, which means your team leader status is moot." You made a slicing motion over your neck. "You may be the leader appointed by the college but right now that means nothing, were not fighting and this isn't reconnaissance, we're working."

"That doesn't change the fact that Caesar is team leader freshman." You can always count on Johann to speak up for what he believes in. Too bad you're not here to praise your upperclassmen but instead get them to work.

"Cool! And I'm still the manager. Right now you all are technically on the clock at Takamagahara which means what I say goes. Caesar may be the team leader and you may be my upperclassmen but that doesn't change the fact that right here right now what I say takes precedence in all matters that aren't dragon related because I'm the ma.ne.ger. " You smile your best costumer service smile and speak in the same tone that you do with costumers when you say this. Then you turn on your heel and walk out calling out behind you that "I expect to not wake up to puke covered floors in the morning! I'm going to bed good night."

And well if Finger chose not to comment on your behavior because he watched you break down in the elevator through the security cameras then that will remain with him. And if Caesar and Johann chose not to speak on it because they heard you sobbing from outside your room that night then thats something that stays between them. And if Luminous caught a glimpse of the empty look in your eyes that night when you left your room for water then he definitely held that as a close secret to his heart. Choosing not to comment on it. And if you noticed that your seniors were just a bit more gentle with you or asked for your input before sending you off on recon missions when they didn't before then you don't comment on it.

[alirhi]

...goddess help me...

This fucking episode. *deep breath* This... This episode is where I'm expecting to get some serious hate. Let me just get this out of the way right up front:

I. Hate. Zemo.

I do not find him sympathetic, or funny, or charming. I find him creepy and annoying. I did not like him in CA:CW and I do not like him in TFATWS. If you are pro-Zemo, you are not going to like my version of this show from here on out. Just find something else to read and don't bother me about it. You've got the actual canon, so go enjoy that.

Got it? Good. Now, on to the main event!

Episode 3: The Power Broker

First of all, Sam doesn't let Bucky walk in there alone. No matter Bucky's (flimsy and nonsensical) argument, Sam's like "hell no. I go in with you, or you don't go in." The main reason for this isn't to keep Bucky from breaking Zemo out of prison (with decent writing, he would never do that) - it's so that Sam witnesses Zemo taunting Bucky with/about the trigger words. because Zemo is a piece of shit.

Since he doesn't know the full story, Sam is confused, but he files this interaction away to ask Bucky about later. He's listening to Zemo acknowledging that Bucky was "not conscious for most of [his] imprisonment" (which, yes, clearly refers to the time he spent frozen, but can also mean while he was under their control as TWS/"The Asset" - also, key word: imprisonment) and when he calls Bucky a means to an end, Sam scowls, looking ready to go off on him, but he waits. They've got more important issues.

Neither of them entertains the thought of breaking Zemo out for even a nanosecond. He does that shit himself. And literally the only reason I'm sticking with him getting out at all is because I want to address some truly egregious moments linked directly to him in the show. Zemo makes them think he's setting them on the trail when really he's just sending them to his motor pool. Bucky and Sam are confused until they see Zemo in his stolen guard uniform, then they're both angry and want to ship him right back to prison, but he strikes a deal with them: "My help for my temporary freedom. Creating super soldiers cannot be allowed to continue; let me finish my work, and then do with me as you will." He has no intention of going quietly back to prison, obviously, and they're not stupid enough to believe otherwise, but they believe they can keep him on a short leash, so they agree for now. Anything to bring down the Flag Smashers and whoever created them.

After the title, we cut to Raynor on the phone in her office. She's agitated, fiddling with things on her desk. "No, sir," she's practically growling, "it was disrupted. - Walker did! - It's not my fault your new attack dog got off-leash!" She pauses, huffs, and says more calmly, "No. Of course not. I'm sorry. - Well, I don't see how, with the new Cap strutting around barking orders! - What am I supposed to do? Tell Captain America in front of a dozen witnesses that he can't have his predecessor's favorite pet because we're not done reprogramming him? I didn't see that going over too well. I made a call. - No. No, no, no, we can still use him. The work's not finished, but he still trusts me. He'll be back." A pause as she listens. Angry again, she snaps, "What do you want me to do, shove a tracker up his ass? He'll be back, and we'll pick right back up where we left off! - Don't worry, sir, the Asset will be fully compliant and ready to use soon. I'll make sure of it. - Yes, sir. You, too." She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch, grumbling, "Dick."

Cut back to Sam, Bucky, and Zemo getting going on their trip to Madripoor. On the plane, Sam wants to talk to Bucky about what he's learned so far, but doesn't want to bring it up in front of Zemo... until the notebook incident reminds him that Zemo already knows more about Bucky than he does.

After Zemo's line about the list, Sam angrily corrects him: "You mean people HYDRA used The Winter Soldier to hurt." When Zemo shrugs and his response is basically along the lines of "what's the difference" Sam is like "oh hell no."

"Those words you were reciting at him," he reminds Zemo, "what were they, Russian? They clearly meant something. They were supposed to do something. What are they?" "Sam, let it go," Bucky pleads, unable to look at either of them. "It's nothing." "You wanna drown in your guilt, that's fine," Sam snaps, "but make sure it's for the right reasons." He turns back to Zemo, who's smiling at this exchange because he's a monster and thinks Bucky's suffering is fucking funny. "I asked you a question, Zemo. What did those words do?" "They activate the Winter Soldier programming," Bucky grudgingly admits. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he's sure as hell not going to let Zemo speak for him. "Or, they did, before the Wakandans got all that shit out of my head." "It's a shame," Zemo says with a smirk. "Imagine the possibilities that come with perfect obedience." "I think you mean 'slavery'," Sam growls, "and I think you're in the wrong crowd to be looking so pleased about it. Remember that we can send your ass back to prison any time." "Of course," Zemo agrees, but with an arrogant smile that shows he doesn't believe for a second that these two have any real power over him. Still, he bides his time and sits back quietly, watching Bucky fidget with the notebook. Sam turns back to Bucky, seeing his discomfort; he won't let the topic go, though, not yet. He just softens his tone. "So, they 'activated the Winter Soldier'? What exactly does that mean?" Bucky shrugs, still not looking up. "Pretty much what he said - perfect obedience. What little consciousness they left me between cryo and the chair was squashed down, locked away. And I did whatever I was told, exactly the way they told me to." It finally clicks. He'd had his suspicions before, of course, but now Sam gets it. Visibly horrified, he stares at this quiet, broken man, and finally sees the truth of what he'd been through for 70 years: "They stripped away your autonomy. Shit, Bucky, they didn't even let you be a person. That's..." He swallows, looking like he'll be sick any minute. "That's awful, man. I'm so sorry." When Bucky tries to shrug it off and downplay it again, Sam gets angry. "Look at me!" He waits; it takes a few seconds, but Bucky reluctantly looks up and is surprised to see just how upset Sam is on his behalf. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. When Steve said you didn't have a choice, I had no idea... You really, truly had no choice; not even the ability to choose. That's horrifying." "I doubt it would make much difference to the people he's killed," Zemo points out snidely. "Or their families. Let's ask Tony Stark, shall we?" "You shut the hell up," Sam growls. He watches Bucky flinch and make that face - the face he's starting to really fucking hate - that says he agrees with Zemo. Bucky still can't see things the way Sam does; he still feels the guilt and shame, and even when he himself pointed out his lack of agency under HYDRA, it didn't click for him that Sam is right, not Zemo.

It's too much, too soon. Sam sees that and decides to change the subject, to give Bucky some time to process. He nods at the notebook, and they have their little Marvin Gaye debate, where Sam is over the top about it on purpose, because Bucky needs the distraction.

Of course, Zemo ruins it by opening his big mouth again and reminding Bucky of more trauma: his time fighting in WWII. That's why Sam latches onto the bit about Madripoor; to keep the focus not only on the task at hand, but off of Bucky's past that he clearly still can't cope with.

"James... You will have to become someone you claim is gone." Sam is officially ready to throw Zemo out a window. 😂 The only reason he doesn't jump to Bucky's defense again and basically tell Zemo to fuck himself (in a PG-13 way 🙄) is because Bucky's, as Sam pointed out in ep2, a grown-ass man, and because he's just learned how few decisions this poor man has been able to make in his life. Sam doesn't want to come across as another "handler," deciding everything for him, even if he does think this plan is stupid and needlessly cruel.

At the bar, when asked if he wants "the usual", Sam just casually waves the bartender off like "nah". Zemo already said they had business to attend to, so it's not like anyone would be suspicious that now's probably not a good time to be doing weird shots lol. (wtf even was that? I'm not sure I want to know, but...what part of the snake did he drop into that drink?)

Sam's not an idiot (I'm really so sick of this trend of turning intelligent characters into morons because the writers can't think of any other way to move their plot along) so his cell phone has been off this whole time. No sudden call from Sarah to put them all in danger. There was really no point to that, anyway; Sharon likely would have killed Selby for talking about Nagle with or without the excuse of "saving" Sam and Bucky. I mean, it's not like they know who fired that shot, ever.

"They cleared the Bionic Staring Machine," Sam still jokes, but he follows it with, "and they think he's a mass-murderer." "They think?" Sharon stares at him incredulously. "Didn't he kill pretty much everyone he's ever met?" "Wow." Sam glances back at Bucky. "She really is awful now." To Sharon, he adds, "You met Steve; do you really think he'd have defied 117 countries to protect someone evil?" "He did it for Bucky," she points out. "Let's face it - Bucky could blow up half the planet, and Steve's loyal-to-a-fault ass would still take a bullet for him." "You know I'm sitting right here, right? I can hear you." "Look, I don't think you're evil, Bucky," Sharon assures him. "But I know you killed a lot of people for HYDRA." "I'm not denying it." "He didn't have a choice," Sam snaps, glaring at them both. "But we're not getting into that right now. My point is, the government's afraid of Bucky, and they still pardoned him. All you did was steal something. I'm sure they can be persuaded to see reason." "The day the US government sees reason," Sharon quips, rolling her eyes, "is the day I sprout real wings and fly off into the sunset." "Careful, Icarus," Bucky mocks with a smirk, "the sun and brand new wings don't exactly go together." Then he shrugs and glances at Sam. "But she's not wrong."

At the party that night, it takes a few minutes (grumpy old man Bucky's not sure how to feel about the music lol) but a peek of pre-war Bucky comes out to play: they were told to "blend in", so he dances. At first he's just bobbing around alone looking stoic and out of place, but soon he's smiling and dancing between two attractive people - one male, one female. Sam is surprised, but before he can tease him for it, Sharon comes to get them all. Even she's a little "wait what?" at Bucky having a little fun lol. (recovery is not linear, guys. trauma doesn't mean "perpetually miserable, no fun, doesn't even know how to smile." in my TFATWS, Bucky gets his lighter moments; real ones, not humor at his expense)

When they find Nagle, Bucky's the one who notices and opens the secret door, while Sam keeps an eye on Zemo. Bucky catches Zemo trying to grab that gun; closes the drawer on his hand before opening it and taking the gun away. "Nice try." Nagle tries to get away while there's only one person watching him, but Sam catches him and forces him back into his seat. With a bruising grip on the back of Zemo's neck, Bucky drags him back over to where he and Sam can both keep an eye on him. Nagle is killed in the shootout as they're trying to escape; Zemo still runs off, blows shit up, and comes back with the stolen car so he's not totally useless.

I had no problem with Zemo being the one to kill Nagle; Nagle was the worst and def had to die, and Zemo has never had an issue killing anyone. Where I took issue with this scene was Bucky and Sam being dumb enough to let Zemo wander and get his hands on a gun. Nope. Not happening.

Anyway, shootout! Explosions! Funny banter! The seat thing, which is my favorite nod to CW ever lol... And then the conversation on the plane...

"You okay?" "Yeah." Sam sighs. "Just thinking." "About how to get Sharon that pardon you dangled in front of her?" He shakes his head. "About how Nagle referred to 'The Winter Soldier Program" like it was some kind of after school club; like you weren't standing right there. And 'the American test subject' like... Like Isaiah wasn't even a real person." He turns to face Bucky, looking angry and weary. "Makes me wonder how many times... How many times are we gonna run around in the same circles before people learn? And how many people need to get crushed underfoot in the meantime?" "Did you really just equate me with Isaiah?" Bucky frowns, not sure how to react to that. "That man is a hero." Sam opens his mouth to say something, but his phone goes off and Zemo approaches at the same time, effectively cutting off their conversation.

When they get to Riga and Zemo tries to guilt trip them over Sokovia, Bucky deadpan reminds him, "Neither of us were involved in that fight." "I doubt you'd have been much help if you were." He shrugs. "Probably not. But I like to save my guilt for events I was actually present for. It's a thing." Zemo laughs. "Fair enough."

Bucky goes on his walk, and meets up with Ayo.

[twstdreams]

I've loved your non-romantic/platonic content that you've done so far! Adding on to that list, could I please request a short story surrounding MC, Ace, and Deuce? An accident occurs which ends in MC turning into a little kid and now it's up to the two boys to put their differences aside and babysit their friend until she's back to normal. Girl pronouns plz! Lol I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. If you don't feel comfortable with this ask you can skip it! Thx for reading :)

I am always up for platonic content and shenanigans! Long story, so the rest is under the cut!

Warning: Minor spoilers for side stories (briefly alluded to)

Length: ~2.3K

“It’s this one!” Deuce declares with unfounded confidence.

“No, it’s not!” Ace rebuttals despite not making it past page 10 in his textbook.

“It’s mine!” Grimm shouts even though he most definitely does not understand the experiment at hand. 

The magicless student can only sigh. Deuce and Ace suck at potions. So when the two bicker about what to add to their cauldron, the prefect doesn’t even blink an eye. Deuce mispronounces an ingredient, Ace corrects him, but neither are even talking about the right thing. She can practically sense Crewel’s glare despite her eyes remaining on the cauldron, cautiously waiting for bubbles to appear so she could add the indigo milk cap mushroom. 

What is added next to her cauldron is not the mushroom in her hand but a random root Grimm throws in. In Deuce’s haste to catch the gremlin, he spills over his own cauldron and some of their potion spills into hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it’s too late. The mixture in her cauldron is boiling profusely and suddenly envelopes her in a cloud of smoke.

“Funya! MC, are you okay?” Grim inquires. Deuce and Ace also call out her name but there is no response. When the smoke clears, everyone in the room is left speechless.

The potential beast tamer hasn’t moved but an inch but she’s at least two feet shorter and with rounder cheeks and wide eyes. 

“WHAT?” she screeches in disbelief, suddenly too short to even reach the cauldron, “Fix this!” 

And this is how the group’s long catastrophic day begins.

Adventure 1: The beginning

“What?!” Grim shouts. If looks could kill, Crewel’s glare would have toasted the monster.

“Yes, it is hard to predict when MC will return to normal because you carelessly threw together that potion. It should wear off in a day, but there’s no guarantee,” the teacher explains through gritted teeth. The bell rings but the quartet barely registers it.

“Go to the headmaster! It’s not my problem anymore,” Crewel declares. 

Unfortunately, as most meetings with the headmaster are, the conversation is fruitless.

“Hah? We’re supposed to babysit her?” Ace asks.

���Yes! It’s your fault, is it not? Take care of her until the spell wears off,” Crowley declares.

“Isn’t there any way to break the spell?” Deuce inquires while nervously glancing towards MC.

“It’s hard to tell because you added in unknown amounts of various ingredients,” Crowley answers before muttering, “It takes too much time! I need to know what happens next in my novel.”

“Tch, what a lazy adult,” MC comments with a bored expression. She figured this would happen. She can’t even recall a moment when the headmaster had actually been helpful.

“What did you say?” Crowley demands. Deuce immediately picks up MC and heads for the door.

“Nothing! We’ll take care of her! See you later headmaster!” Ace explains while the two boys dash out of the office. They book it out of the hallway and then set her down on the ground.

“Hey! What was that about? It’s usually Grim saying stuff that gets us in trouble, not you,” Ace comments.

“Don’t tell me…Now she acts like a little kid too?” Deuce wonders.

Adventure 2: Stranger Danger

“Oh? Ramshackle prefect, you seem to be caught in quite the predicament.” MC glares at the Octavinelle dorm leader in return. Ace and Deuce are in the midst of calling Cater and Trey to ask for advice, giving Azul the perfect opportunity to approach her.

“I have an offer for you,” the second year begins.

“No.” MC is firm in her answer and has no intention of making any deals.

“Are you sure? I treat children well,” Azul adds but it only results in her frowning. There’s suddenly a glimmer in her eyes but before Azul can deduce what it means, MC begins shouting.

“STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Stop that!” Azul insists but his wide eyes give away his flustered state. With a smile that looks a little too much like Chenya’s, MC continues her call for help. Soon enough, Deuce and Ace rush to her side.

“Stranger? That’s Prefect Azul! Have you forgotten him?” Deuce inquires with a look of concern. MC decides this is the perfect time to practice her puppy eyes and simply looks up at Deuce, wide eyes and with a pout.

Azul silently admits defeat as he forms a tight-lipped smile accompanied by some false pleasantries before exiting the area. 

“I’m hungry!” she announces before anyone can question her further. 

“Yes! Let’s go eat!” Grim agrees.

Adventure 3: Sweet Dreams

Getting lunch is a surprisingly painless affair. Though Night Raven College students could be quite self-centred, even they balked at harming a little girl. MC easily orders her favourites before sitting with her friends, though she has to sit on her knees to be at a comfortable height compared to the table.

“Wow! It’s true!~” Cater chimes while taking a seat at the table.

“How are you feeling?” Trey asks.

“Okay! It’s kinda weird but at least it was easy to get lunch,” she replies while taking a bite of her food.

“Now you really look like my minion!” Grim declares. MC shoots the monster a glare but doesn’t give him a response.

“You’re actually a little kid, huh? So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?” Ace teases.

“I want to control all the ghosts and have an army,” MC answers nonchalantly as if she had been discussing the weather.

“What?” Trey asks, slightly taken aback. Wasn’t this the person who was gullible enough to think that oyster sauce went in tarts?

“A ghost army,” she repeats confidently.

“Anyway! Aren’t you lucky? You get all these handsome guys to help you today!” Cater interjects, not wanting to unpack why the prefect wanted an army of the dead. 

Her gaze scans the table before looking up at Cater, eyes wide and expression void of malice, and asks, “Where?”

Grim howls with laughter while the four Heartslabyul students try to recover from the blow to their ego. It’s definitely going to be a long day for them.

Adventure 4: Smiles and stares

“Hey wait!” MC whines. One disadvantage of becoming short is that her stride decreased accordingly, thus her struggles to keep up with her classmate’s pace.

“Just walk faster or we’ll be late for class!” Ace retorts, glancing up ahead to see how far away the next building is. 

“AHH!” Ace turns around to see MC a couple of meters behind him face-first in a patch of grass. 

“Uwah! Are you okay?” Grim asks while flying above the fallen girl. Ace groans at the predicament. Deuce ran ahead to warn the other teachers of MC’s unfortunate condition so the redhead was the only babysitter at the moment.

The situation only worsens when MC begins to sit up, knees scraped, eyes glistening with tears, brows furrowed, and lips pressed tightly together. Ace’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Please don’t cry,” he mutters under his breath before trying to think about how to soothe kids.

“Oh my, that was quite a fall. You’re okay now though, right?” Jade asks while extending a gloved hand. His face is calm, showing no signs of concerns or worry with only a placid smile to demonstrate any emotion. MC stares at his face, analyzing his expression for a few moments. After finding the answer to her unsaid question, she accepts his hand and quickly sniffles before nodding. 

Ace watches in amazement as all signs of pain and panic vanish from her expression. He decides not to question her mood change before ushering the prefect to their next class.

Adventure 5: What came first? The egg or the chicken?

“You have to!” Deuce insists.

“NO!” MC shouts back, sitting firmly on the ground. Deuce is startled by the force of her words but stands his ground.

“It’s for your own good! Kids need exercise!” Or at least that’s what Cater told him before going to light music club.

“You can’t move me an inch!” MC retorts.

“I’m older, you should respect your seniors,” Deuce adds, doing his best to retain some level of patience.

“At least I know where chickens come from!” she rebuttals and Deuce feels at a loss for words. It is certainly not honour student behaviour to yell at a young girl but the first year is at his limits. He came to NRC to learn about magic, not dealing with children!

“Let’s play tag,” Jack suggests. Being the only one with little siblings, he is quickly enlisted to help. While disappointed in Deuce and Ace’s carelessness, he didn’t want to risk MC’s safety by leaving her in their care. Thus making him a reluctant member of the babysitting team.

“Tag?” MC echoes before a bright smile forms on her face. “Can it be teams?”

“Sure,” Jack agrees nonchalantly. 

“Jack and I are on the same team! We get to chase Deuce and Ace!” she declares gleefully.

“Huh? I didn’t agree to this,” Ace interjects.

“We need even teams!” MC responds with puffed cheeks.

“Too bad, so sad!” Ace replies without remorse.

“This is our fault Ace. Plus we promised the headmaster to take care of her. As Heartslabyul students and men, we can’t go back on our words!” Deuce declares. Jack’s firm gaze and Deuce’s blazing spirit give little room for negotiation and Ace sighs in defeat. Ace really does hate alchemy class from the bottom of his heart.

Adventure 6: Idiots, all of them

MC closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze while resting. Deuce and Jack had gone to the cafeteria to get drinks for everyone after several rounds of tag while Ace lay on the ground to catch his breath. It was quite entertaining to see the fastest first years engage in a game of tag and even more fun to watch Ace try to avoid his inevitable fate. Agile as he was, Ace couldn’t run fast enough to outdo Jack with his insane stamina and speed. She giggles at the memory.

“Bonjour petite princesse!” Rook looks down at the little girl with a shining smile. Her eyes snap open and follow the source of the cheerful voice. 

“Isn’t it delightful to see a new side to your friends? Like escorting someone on their first dance, like watching a lazy lion transform into a beast for the sake of the hunt, like observing night flox bloom under a full moon!” Rook beams but MC merely shrugs in response.

“Yeah but I’ve also seen Ace fall off his broom, Deuce compliment plants, and Jack mistake onions for a chemical leak.” 

“Oh? Is it not like having several princes tend to you?” he inquires. 

She scrunches her nose in thought before replying, “If my prince got stuck in a tree and I had to go save him.”

“Dear me, and I thought you were une petite princesse mignonne [1]! Perhaps that was a misunderstanding,” Rook remarks though he doesn’t seem displeased with the discovery.

Adventure 7: Mandatory nap

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ace suggests, “MC needs a nap and it’s the closest building with beds.”

“I’m the one that needs a nap?” she asks while side-eyeing her tired friend.

“She hasn’t even run for 3 hours,” Jack comments.

“Kids need naps! Plus, who knows what the side-effects of the potion are?” Ace adds, “We shouldn’t take any chances with her health.”

“You do need proper sleep to grow strong!” Deuce concurs.

“Sure, sure,” she concedes. When they arrive at the infirmary, there is no staff in sight. Ace guides her to a bed with an expectant smile.

“Well, go to sleep now!” Ace announces.

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m not sleepy,” she responds.

“Just lie in bed and close your eyes!” Ace insists with a huff.

“Shut up. You’re so noisy,” a voice growls. Leona appears on the other side of a room divider. Jack lets out a sigh, disappointed but not surprised by his dorm leader.

“I was having such a nice nap and now I’m… hah?” His sentence trails off as he eyes the little girl before him.

“Well,” you launch into an explanation of what happened, Leona shooting a judgemental look towards Deuce and Ace midway, before concluding, “It should wear off by the end of the day.”

“Tch, what an annoyance. I’m going back to sleep, don’t be loud,” Leona warns before flopping back onto the bed.

“How do you fall asleep so fast?” MC inquires. Leona glares at her, lips pressed together to form a thin line, but he lets any threats die in his throat.

“It’s nap time. Count sheep like a good herbivore until you fall asleep,” he instructs before turning his back towards the group. More than she’d like to admit, her small body requires rest and what better excuse than this? Besides, it’s not like magical history homework was particularly appealing, so she plops onto the bed to rest.

“I’m exhausted. Taking care of kids is tiring,” Ace says before falling onto another bed.

“It’s been a long day. I’m glad MC is okay, though. Haaah…I’m sleepy,” Deuce murmurs before resting on a different bed. Jack doesn’t comment but quietly begins his homework while keeping watchful eye on the little girl, not that he’d admit it if asked.

Adventure 8: The End. For now, anyway

She stretches after waking up, pleased to find her body back to its normal size. Ace snores lightly, Deuce’s mouth is agape, and Leona is nowhere to be found.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I actually feel pretty good!” Their conversation awakens their friends.

“You’re finally back to normal! I’m relieved,” Deuce interjects.

“You’re a lot of work for a minion, ya know? You’re lucky I’m so great,” Grim comments.

“That was a pain! You owe me big time!” Ace adds. MC shakes her head and wonders if she has the greatest or most chaotic friends.

[1] une petite princesse mignonne = a cute little princess

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Joan Jett Quartet

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: NC-17 BDSM, extreme language, consensual bondage and paddling

A/N: Decided to do a short series of erotic drabbles based around Klaus x Reader during his first year with Destiny's Children. They'll be "Tied" together with "Do You Wanna Touch Me There?"

Tag List: @robertsheehanownsmyass​ @frogs--are--bitches​ @firstpersonnarrator​ @elliethesuperfruitlover​ @rob-private @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @messengeronthemoon @magic-multicolored-miracle

Book 2- Bad Reputation (Klaus x Fem!Reader)**

There was no doubt you had been on a complete power trip after your tryst with Klaus and the table. Smug satisfaction on your lips everytime the two of you passed one another in the mansion. You held your head high while all he did in return was roll his eyes and shake his head, cheeks flush.

The last straw for Klaus was one moment when you passed one another on the stairs. You held your fingers up in a V-shape in front of your mouth, snaking your tongue in and out obscenely. He grabbed you by the wrist and yanked your body flush with his. Your heart raced with desire as those exasperated eyes glared at you.

“You've been telling others our secrets,” his voice low.

“Of course. They're my friends, and they are interested in why The Prophet keeps choosing me to meet behind closed doors. I didn't know it was a secret, ” you grasped his neck with your free hand and tightened so that your nails dug into his skin, “these proclivities.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as Klaus visibly shook under your grip. An erection twitched against your hip and grew the tighter you clutched. Then suddenly lifted your chin upward. His thumb pressed hard into the bone so you could only look him in the eye.

“If I wanted any of them to know what gets me off, I could've asked any number to play with me. I'm pretty fucking sure they'd be better at it, too. Uppity bitch with your uninspired tit fucking. too good for the strap-on unlike Jill and Kitty.”

Your heart fell and pounded in your ears the entire way down. But you remembered yourself and him. How the game could start any time he felt up to it. An unspoken contract the moment you agreed to restrain him and dominate him. This was just payback because you made Klaus human to the other Children.

“It's my turn to play”

Your face was hot with want. There was a wetness between your legs at the thought of it. His lips moved centimeters from yours so you could breathe what he exhaled. Your hips ground into him.

“Bring a blindfold,” Klaus instructed. “I'll bring the paddle”

------

You stood in the living area of Klaus’s wing. You shifted from barefoot to barefoot in a large sweater and your underwear. Your hair twisting and untwisting around a finger without thought. The sleep mask you brought as a blindfold laid out on the arm of the sofa. You shocked yourself that the sight of a paddle, makeshift in haste from a kid’s toy, turned you on.

“Can't say sorry for being late,” The sound of Klaus’s voice made you jump out of your skin. A sly grin spread across his face, “Nervous, doll?”

He stood in front of you now, that long beard gone and his hair wrapped up in a bun. “Couldn't get the fucking thing off. (It was fake) At least that's one secret you've kept.” His hand ran down your arm and waist around to your ass which he rubbed all too briefly.

Now Klaus leaned in to kiss your forehead and cheeks before lifting your chin so that his lips could meet yours. “You totally get that you're one of two people I trust in this room?”

You looked around assuming he meant himself. “Yes.”

“And you get that I've been mostly myself with you.” You nodded an understanding. “Good girl. You definitely fucked that up by gossiping about me, so I have GOT to punish your insolence. Can't have you squawking to the other chickens in the henhouse that the fox enjoys being pecked.”

Klaus laughed at his own metaphor. Not maniacal, in an honest giggle the way he did when he found himself truly humorous. You loved that about him. He could command attention with his “sermons,” but in your bedroom the nights he came to you? He thrived on making you smile.

His face became serious again, “This isn't some master slave bullshit either. I was raised by servants, and trust me it fucking bothers me. Mom, a bit mechanical as she was, managed fine on her own.”

Klaus was lost in thought but shook his head. He made his way behind you and spoke in your ear, “I just like playing with you. You choke me and fuck me while I lose consciousness. I spank you and make you swallow my cum until you learn to keep secrets. And if you're good, I'll fuck you too.”

The breath caught in your throat at how casual he was. How he brought sexual freedom to you and the others. Nothing was too perverse as long as everyone agreed, and you consented to this eagerly.

“Good. Now the safe words,” he fitted the sleep mask down over your eyes, “are Spice Girls.”

“What?” you snickered.

There was a swift open handed slap on your ass that stung beautifully, “Correct response is?”

“Yes, Prophet.”

“I want you to take your sweater off, but as you do stand with your feet slightly apart. Then bend forward.”

The chill in the air caused your skin to goose pimple as soon as your sweater left your body. You complied, unable to tell which direction Klaus was coming from. Your heart raced with excitement.

As you leaned forward, his hand caught you by the throat. The other warm and flat on your back. He ran it over your spine and to your ass which he rubbed before he gave another slap. This time even harder to your delight. When you didn't flinch, he repeated himself. Harder still. Once more before he dipped his hand between your legs and rubbed your sex through your panties.

“I figured you may enjoy the same things I do. Look how wet you already are, and I haven't even used the paddle. And this ass, honestly there's so much to work with. More men should appreciate a thick one.”

The friction of Klaus’s hand picked up as he kept working you through the fabric. Then he withdrew it and that pleasured sting came one more time. Harder. You choked on a moan.

Over the backs of your thighs now and over the hips his hand went. “These hips too. Perfect for when I want to ride you like we're dogs or tease that little asshole.”

That part wasn't really a turn on to you. When Klaus played with you there, unable to switch off how he might please a male lover from a female.

Your thoughts fell away as that roaming hand took hold of your panties and removed them. The hitch in your throat as you felt him tug you forward with the hand on your neck. Klaus massaged your naked sex with the palm of his hand. The heel found your clit and pressed into it before you knew he had pulled back and raised his hand. He brought it down with such force on your bare ass that you lurched forward. It was wet.

“Now you're quiet?” Klaus inquired. “I wonder how long the chicken can go before the fox makes her cluck?”

There was a rush to your head as he righted you. He unhooked your bra and removed that too. Klaus pinched your nipple. Then the other. He traced the erect skin with a fingertip. Your back arched because his body leaned into you. The loose tendrils from his bun splayed across your chest as he bit the top of both of your tits. Still no sound.

“You're tits are, like, the perfect fucking size for how large my hands are,” each word emphasized by a hard squeeze as he roughly kneaded them.

Without warning, Klaus dropped them and dipped his fingers inside you. He pumped them deftly in and out, circling your clit and worked it until you started to pulsate. He drove you just mad enough.

“I can't believe how fucking wet you are. Do I make you cum?” Klaus’s fingers moved quickly and your legs started to shake. “Do I punish you some more?” Fingers out of you, hand on your throat to swing you forward again so he could spank you somehow even harder. Once. Twice.

“Or do I sit and watch you fuck yourself until its time to suck me off?”

Still bent in half, Klaus pushed his fingers deep inside and pumped them again. Assaulted your clit. “No, I'm too hands on.”

Then a white heat filled your core and spread. Your sex constricted around Klaus’s fingers as you came. A loud squeal turned moan echoed off the walls. He held you steady by the neck as he rubbed out a second orgasm and made a tsk tsk sound.

“Guess I've got my answer. More insolence when I wasn't ready for you, and you broke your silence!”

You couldn't even comprehend Klaus’s next move. He stood you up and then bent your arms so your hands were on the back of your head. The position when you're under arrest. You could feel his bare chest against your back, erection just beneath his linen pants in your ass.

Klaus held your hands to your head and stepped away from you. Three swift hits to your ass, “I knew you wouldn't keep quiet long.” Each word again emphasized the rhythm of his punishment.

You took a chance, “Please forgive me, Prophet.” Your body shook with endorphins.

“Debatable. Can’t exactly talk with a mouthful of my cock now can you,” Klaus was still holding your hands above your head. Free hand that spanked you reached around to pinch your nipple another time.

This was the first time you realized he had yet to kiss you. That was so personal. This was.. you weren't sure. But once more thoughts escaped you as he pushed you blindly forward. His hand in your head dug into yours and your hair.

Once your knees came into contact with the soft velvet of a chair, Klaus stopped. He let go of your hands and gestured for you to drop them. He left you momentarily before returning to your side. His hands brought leather around your neck to the front and pulled a bit to tighten it but not the way he can handle. Cold metal against your spine.

“It's a collar and restraints. I get to control just how much of my cock you take in and you won't be able to stop me or help yourself. Next time you'll choke on the gossip like you will me.”

Klaus’s voice was low in your ear. His lips were inches from your skin. Goatee and mustache brushed against your neck as he locked your hands into the cuffs attached to the chain. He knew how that drove you fucking mad and blazed a trail with his chin and lips across your collarbone and shoulder without actually kissing you. Your arms straight down, hands near your ass.

You gasped out loud this time; an insufferable moan left your mouth. The collar tightened when the sound escaped your lips. Klaus laughed. His gin soaked breath filled your nostrils briefly before you were yanked to your knees. His hands twisted up in the back of your head once more and he held it tight while he freed himself from the pants.

Klaus sat down in the chair with his legs spread enough to maneuver you between them. You knew he used his spare hand to hold his stiff cock in place as he tugged your head forward towards it. The tip lost in your cleavage.

“I have to give you credit. Letting me tit fuck you was such a thrill. It's so tight in here, reminds me of your cunt. Then you can swallow my dick until I cum,” there was a shrug to his tone now.

Still he began to thrust his erection back and for in your tits. Klaus’s hips lifted off the chair to connect with your chest. He anchored himself with you and kept going. You could feel the head of his cock hit your neck, slick with his own fluid. He started to growl under his breath the faster he bucked and squirmed. Your sex reacting without thought with a notable swell.

“The tits are so fuckable,” he writhed. Looks like The Prophet had a new favorite type of foreplay.

Suddenly Klaus switched on you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded as your head was wrenched forward.

You complied, and Klaus shoved his cock so deep in your mouth it hit the back of your throat. You gagged momentarily and he cried out in ecstasy. You let your throat do it again.

“Keep doing that,” he pushed you onto him even further if that was possible.

Then Klaus pushed you up and back. His hands forced your mouth to do what it could on its own. You bobbed up and down on the shaft, wrapping your tongue around it on the process. His grip slackened so he could caress you instead.

“Like that. Now lick it and just the head.”

Again you kept repeating the instructions. Your jaw hurt and muscles began to ache, but you knew The Prophet’s cues by now. One more deep-throated constriction and..

Klaus exploded in your mouth. The salty liquid hit you and you swallowed only some. The rest you held knowing what would happen if you spit it out. So the moment he let you sit back, you assumed so he could adjust himself for another round, you turned your head and spit.

“Did you just fucking spit when I told you I was going to make you swallow my cum?” his question bordered on furious. A finger hooked through a loop in the collar and he heaved you up off the floor so you stood. Your body marveled at his strength. Your sex reacted accordingly.

“Just when I thought she knew how to behave, the little chicken showed her true self. Get on the chair and bend over my lap. Ass up, face down on the arm.”

Cautious to hide your eagerness, you did your best with your hands chained. Still you managed and bent over Klaus. The velvet soft under your knees and face resting into it. Your sex pressed against his cock as it stiffened a second time.

There was a brief moment of self confidence that you managed to hide the blindness made you nervous. You had a general idea most of this evening where Klaus was positioned or coming from, but it was that uncertainty that slicked you with wetness. The anticipation of his next move. The ultimate trust in someone who literally fell out of the sky.

Now that move was Klaus leaning over then a sensation of smooth wood on your bare ass. The other hand tangled itself up in the chain along your back. Tightened just a bit so the collar did the same. Another gasp for air and Klaus’s erection poked into you, strained against your pubic hair.

“You broke the rules by spitting,” the paddle came down on your ass several times. “You broke the rules by laughing at me earlier,” words punctuated by the delicious sting at every other word. “And you broke,” this time he took the edge of the paddle and swiped it between your legs. Delved between your folds to hit your clit just right. It wasn't rough, but it was enough so you understood.

“MY TRUST!” now Klaus bellowed. A hard paddle to your ass and the back of your thighs. Had no longer choked the chain. Instead he pinched your nipples alternately as he punished you.

Klaus brought the paddle down harder still several more times. The force of it pushed you down onto his cock. He thrust a bit up at the motion so your hips came together and apart. It was doing something to you besides making your legs go weak. You ached and throbbed in your cunt, longed to be penetrated. It wouldn't come for now.

“I'll give you a chance to apologize,” now Klaus let go of your tits and pulled you by the chain so your back curved. Your face off the arm of the chair. “Turn in my direction when I'm talking!” Paddle collided with your tender skin.

You moved best you could towards Klaus’s chest, “I'm sorry Prophet.”

“For?” Paddle gone, he gripped a handful of your ass and dug in.

Sharp intake of surprise breath. You rolled into his cock. “Gossiping, Prophet.”

“I can't hear you,” open-handed slap. “Red is definitely your color.”

“FOR GOSSIPING, PROPHET!” you cried out loudly.

“Fine,” indifference in his voice, but his cock said otherwise. “My arm is tired. I want you to fuck my thigh.”

You stumbled and nearly fell as you got off the chair. Your legs waived with chemicals from the paddle and prior orgasm. Now you managed towards Klaus’s lap, straddled his leg and sat astride. You situated your cunt on his thigh and started to ride him in earnest.

You found it difficult to balance as you undulated yourself back and forth. Balance off slightly until Klaus held you steady. Helped you rock powerfully into him. The friction and heat from his body drove you insane as you rode with abandon. You were already swollen as you ground as hard and fast as you could. Klaus’s hands, spread out over your back. His fingers ensnared by the chain.

“That cunt of yours is so fucking wet, like you're sliding on ice. Careful your clit doesn't burst just yet,” he teased.

Then without warning an incredible hard crack to the ass and it was too late. You shuddered violently and screamed out as you rolled yourself through the orgasm. Breasts heaved as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I'd be disappointed,” Klaus’s mouth close to your neck and collarbone once more. Facial hair just touched the surface of your skin as he held you down. “But wait until I tell the other Children how she loves being disciplined.”

Then you were on your feet so Klaus could probe you. He played with your clit to elicit another orgasm. That sting of a hand to your skin forced another explosion.

You collapsed into his chest but instead of catching you, he simply started to undo the cuffs and chain. He turned it around expertly and wrapped your hands up around front. Handcuffs locked, forearms together which he tied together and hooked into the collar. Your arms tight to your chest.

“Now get up. You're gonna get fucked.”

Then Klaus did something that both shocked you and turned you on. Where the strength came from you still don't know, but everything about him was otherworldly. The rush of him lifting you off the floor to throw you over his shoulder was powerful. The quick sting of exquisite torture that you just weren't sick of yet followed by that infectious laugh signaled his demeanor changed entirely.

“I can't believe you've fucking kept up,” he tossed you on the bed.

He rolled you face down, cuffs undone and arms forward so he could lock them to a headboard. “There's no one else who could. They can barely manage orgies. Ought to give my sex swing a go next time” Klaus mumbled and climbed up behind you, your hips and ass lifted skyward.

The head of his cock teased the crack of your ass, which he spanked as a reminder. Klaus tested your trust by slipping just a bit inside that space where no one was ever allowed. You cried out but not in pleasure as he tried.

You never thought it would happen, but you just weren't ready. “Um.. Spice Girls?” It was a question muffled by a pillow.

Klaus stopped, “Excuse me?”

“SPICE GIRLS!”

“I thought as much. Can’t ever know till you try to fuck someone’s ass.”

Then wordlessly Klaus plowed into your ever-slick cunt. His hips hit your ass and filled you to the hilt. Over and over he pounded you with a furious speed. Periodically slapping you with such extreme force that the pillow encompassed your face.

“This hot, tight cunt fits my cock so well. Fucking snug and able to take all of me.”

Klaus grabbed your hair and bent your neck back as he kept at it. Welcomed pain deep inside from his cock practically inside your stomach, or so it felt. Suddenly he pulled out and came on your back and ass, warm and sticky all over your raw and bruising skin.

Later: the two of you with arms and legs tangled up together. You snuggled into Klaus’s chest, a sweetness as your mouths meshed. His hands soft as they ran over you after having applied a cooling lotion to your welts and funny enough, bent to kiss them tenderly.

“Next time, Prophet-”

“Klaus.”

“Right,” you smiled. “Next time it's my turn, and I THINK you're gonna get pegged.”

Klaus leapt out of the bed with almost childlike glee. “I'll show you how to wear it.”

[peachybowen]

stupid • r.b

series masterlist

pt.1 pt.2

pairing: ricky bowen x reader

warnings: none

songs: Falling For U by Peachy! and mxmtoon, Wondering by Julia Lester and Olivia Rodrigo

words: 3.6k

AND ALSO I’M HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE THAT I HAVE A MASTERLIST 🤪 YOU CAN SEE WHAT I’M WORKING ON AND YEAHHH

A/N: feedback is always appreciated 🥺 I’m sorry if you find any grammar mistakes. Enjoy xx

I have dreamed of playing the lead since 5th grade. Of course I didn't tell anyone besides my brother and Cousin. When I got home last night, my brother and I talked. He was happy for me. Ej also said that he was really proud of me but he also added that he thinks that Nini deserved better.

,,Yo, what's up? I'm trading in my East High Leopards gear to be a Wildcat, starting today, because it's the day of the read-through! Blessed to be playing Chad. Swipe up for a link to tickets.'' EJ said holding his phone up, smiling the whole time.

,,Hi!'' Ash and I exclaimed simultaneously, walking up to EJ.

,,Say hi to my cousin and my little sister and bye to my cousin and sister.'' he turned his phone off and put it in his jeans pocket.

,,You're in a good mood.'' I mentioned and continued walking beside him, with Ash on his other side.

,,That's just for the fans, Y/N. Inside I'm a bucket of sad.'' he stated and I looked at Ash and then at him.

,,You still not over the not-getting Troy thing?'' Ash asked.

,,I put 3 years into this drama department and now I have to understudy my girlfriend's ex?'' he turned to me.

,,No offense Y/N.” he added and I just laughed and waved it off.

,,I know it sucks. But, I mean; Y/N is Gabriella and I don't think we would want an incest couple in our play, you know.'' Ash explained and I cringed at the thought.

,,Ash is 100% right.'' I agreed and started walking faster, Ash right behind me.

When we arrived at the rehearsal room, I saw Ej putting the Chad Danford card next to the Gabriella one. Ricky and I didn't talk much since the auditions and maybe, just maybe, that was my fault. I have been avoiding him, which was actually pretty hard considering I had almost all my classes with him. He tried to talk to me here and there but I just hummed in response most of the time. Honestly I was just trying to get over my crush on him. He still wasn't over Nini and he actually wanted to take part in the musical for her and I kinda ruined his chances because she did not get the lead. I also didn't want to ruin our friendship. We were friends since kindergarten and I wanted to keep him as a friend. After the auditions, Ash came over. She actually told me not to avoid Ricky but I just thought it was a good idea. Of course Ej agreed with me.

,,Could everyone take their assigned seats?'' Ms.Jenn asked loud enough for everone to hear. I walked to my seat and noticed that Ej put the cards back to how they were.  I sat down with a sigh. Soon after Miss Jenn actually asked Big Red to read the stage directions because Natalie, the stage director, wasn't there. And like 5 seconds after that Ricky took the seat next to me. I looked at Ash, who was sitting across from me. She smiled and turned her attention to the blonde drama teacher.

,,I realize that you all walked in here as strangers.'' she started looking at us.

,,Actually, I'm Y/N and EJ’s, cousin!'' Ashlyn corrected. I could see Ricky looking at me out of the corner of my eye but I just ignored him.

,,But after today, you're a family. Please take your neighbors' hand.'' she finished and everyone did what the teacher said. I took Gina's hand and turned my head to Ricky, who was holding his hand out for me. I took his hand but avoided eye contact.

,,Hand.'' Ms.Jenn said as soon as she saw that Ej and Ricky weren't holding hands. Their heads shot in my direction when they heard me giggle. I stopped immediately.

,,Feel each other's energy. Let the silence speak volumes. In a world full of no, this is a space full of yes.'' the drama teacher preached.

,,Nice. Did you just come up with that?'' Carlos whispered to the middle-aged woman.

,,I did.'' she replied, smiling at him. It was silent. Nobody said anything and I could feel Ricky staring again and I just turned my head to Gina and smiled at her. Seconds later Ms.Jenn started singing ''We're all in this together.''. I let go of Ricky and Gina's hand and looked at the script on my table, highlighting my lines. Ash started to clap after Ms.Jenn finished singing. Nobody clapped beside her so she stopped and everyone looked at her.

,,"Sharpay heads for class, hears singing," "opens the door to the biology lab." "She finds Gabriella and Taylor washing their hands." "They turn to find there are no paper towels in the dispenser. They-'''' Big Red was disrupted by Miss Jenn before he could continue reading.

,,Try to read the punctuation.'' she instructed and smiled at the redhead.

,,"Sharpay comma heads for class period.'''' he said and I grinned. He was so oblivious sometimes it was cute.

We took a break after reading act one. I was talking to Ash but I also kinda watched my brother and Nini talking. And, yes, Ricky looked at them too. Nini got a text, she laughed, and Ricky was on his phone so it was kinda obvious that he sent her a meme or something like that. Ej glared at him and sat down again.

,,Cool glasses.'' I turned my head to see Seb taking a seat next to Ashlyn. She smiled.

,,Thanks. They're my grandmas.'' she acknowledged.

,,I have the same ones at home.'' he laughed.

,,Really? Why?'' I asked, trying to join the conversation again.

,,So, I can see when I'm milking.'' he replied and I was confused.

Milking?

Before I had the chance to ask what he meant by that, Miss Jenn said that we were gonna continue.

I was on stage waiting for Ricky. Ms.Jenn wanted us to start rehearsing early and I wasn't really thrilled. When he came running in, he said that he was sorry for being late.

,,We're diving into page 97.'' Ms.Jenn directed and handed us the script.

,,You mean the last scene?'' Ricky asked just as confused as I was. The teacher just hummed in response.

,,You wanna rehearse this? It's just one line.'' I also asked.

,,Yeah, I've got one, too.'' Ricky stated turning to me.

,,And then there's the kiss.'' Ms.Jenn exclaimed. I looked at her and started to panic.

,,There was no-. I don't remember a kiss in what we read yesterday.'' I stuttered trying to reason with her.

,,It was very much in the original movie.''

,,I only remember a hug.'' I augmented further. I wasn't really in the mood to kiss my best friend. It would just make things more awkward between us.

,,The kiss ended up being cut. Little racy for its time.'' she explained looking at me with a smile.

Later that day I sat in Miss Jenn's office, explaining to her that I just couldn't kiss Ricky.

°Ej's POV°

I was standing outside Ms.Jenn's office, waiting for Y/N when Ashlyn walked up to me.

,,Hi!'' she greeted cheerfully.

,,Go away.'' I simply said.

,,No, you go away. You're standing in front of my locker.''

I stepped away and she opened the locker.

,,I can't believe this. She's around Ricky's finger.''

,,Who?'' Ash asked and looked at me.

,,Miss Jenn! She added a kiss.'' I explained and Ashlyn rolled her eyes.

,,Ej, stop. He's not bribing our director.'' she interrupted.

,,Y/N doesn't want to kiss him, Ash. And I don't want that either.''

,,Being her big brother doesn't mean you own her.'' she commented. I rolled my eyes and changed the subject.

,,I need you to do me a favor.''

,,What kind of favor?'' she asked with a raised brow.

,,I need you to borrow Nini's phone.'' I explained and she looked at me like I was crazy.

,,Borrow? As in steal?''

I just nodded. I needed to be 100% sure that Ricky wasn't in the way of my relationship. Nini was different. She wasn't like other girls. The girl helped me be a better person.

,,Okay, you've just gone up 3 levels of scary!'' the girl stressed, shocked by my words. She tried to reason with me for a bit but then she left, leaving me standing alone in front of the office, waiting for my sister.

°Y/N’s pov°

,,I'm kinda lost. If the play is over, why would we still be dancing?'' Ricky asked beside me. We were back in the rehearsing room. Just as I was about to answer, Carlos came up from behind us.

,,It's a certain call. You're the last two to come out. We want to bring the audience to their feet!'' he explained snickering.

,,Teach them the dance.'' Ricky joked.

,,Carlos? Can we wait for Miss Jenn?'' I pleaded kinda just wanting the director there.

,,Miss Jenn is busy tracking down a prop. She's asked me to create a crescendo, people, so let's stop swirling and let's start twirling.'' Carlos directed calmly.

,,But why are we practicing the bows when we haven't even practiced the play?'' Ricky asked still confused.

,,Because you start with the hardest dance that takes the longest to learn. It's in the Big Book of Broadway.'' Carlos started. Gina came up behind him.

,,Page 374.'' they both finished at the same time. Gina walked away after they both high-fived each other.

Shortly after we started practicing the dance. Ricky was terrible. I mean he tried but he did not succeed. Kinda embarrassing.

,,What is he doing?'' Nini asked from the side as soon as the music stopped. I turned to look at her. She stepped forward and looked at Carlos.

,,Why you're talking to him? I'm right here.''

And that was when I took a step back. I wasn't in the mood to be in the middle of Nini and Ricky drama. I had enough of that over the summer.

,,'Cause you're not here. Not for the right reasons.'' Nini snapped.

,,What's that supposed to mean?'' Ricky asked standing right in front of her. Everyone was silent. Nobody wanted to interrupt that conversation.

,,What I said, Ricky. You hate musicals. You're doing this so we're in each other's grills.''

Carlos took a step forward to break the two apart but they kept on going.

,,Now you're rubbing some weird cologne on your neck.''

,,Hey, you love Throb!''

,,And wasting everybody's time by making fun of something that the rest of us take seriously.'' the brown-haired girl ranted. After the words left her mouth, Carlos told everyone to take a five-minute break and to get out. I stayed just being moral support for Carlos and Ricky. He and Nini argued for a few more seconds, my brother's name was mentioned and Ricky left. Just as Miss Jenn came back, Ricky walked through the door.

,,We're you going Troy?'' she asked, confused as to why he was leaving in the middle of rehearsals.

,,It's Ricky.'' he mumbled before exiting the room. I sighed, looked at Nini, who looked at her hands, grabbed my things and went after him.

,,Why are my leads leaving?'' Miss Jenn asked again.

Ricky was way faster than me.

I mean have you seen him? He's way taller than me!

However, when I saw Big Red outside talking to him, I decided to let them talk. My mind just told me to leave him alone to cool off, you know? So I decided to talk to Nini instead. On the way back, Carlos asked me where Ricky went and I told him that he went outside. Not so sure if that was a good idea because it would just put more pressure on Ricky. When I arrived at the rehearsal room again, Miss Jenn was talking to Nini and she still stood by the piano, looking at her hands.

,,Nini can I talk to you for a second?'' I asked and walked in her direction. Miss Jenn turned to look at me and left the room without another word. I think she knew that it was better to let teenagers sort their problems out alone sometimes.

,,I really don't want to talk to you right now. Ricky probably send you and I'm really not in the mood to-''

,,Ricky did not 'send' me. I'm here because I chose to talk to you. I know that you probably don't even want that because I basically stole the role you wanted to play but listen. Miss Jenn is working really hard on this musical and so is everyone else and I know it's hard being in a musical with your ex- and current boyfriend but please, for the sake of this musical, get along with Ricky.''

,,Y/N you don't even understand the situation. You never had an ex before!''

,,That may be true but I'm not on good terms with Ricky either! Do you see me causing a scene? No! So please Nini, at least consider, not ripping Ricky's face off.'' and with that, I left.

The first thing I did when I arrived at home was eat. I always ate when I was frustrated. Not my best habit. While waiting for my pizza to be done, I decided to post something on Instagram

y/ncaswell

Salt Lake City, Utah

liked by ejcaswell, dancingcarlos and 67 more

y/ncaswell you're looking at your Gabriella Montez baby 🤪

view all 23 comments

dancingcarlos and that's on actually auditioning for Taylor

yourgirlash u rocked that audition tho! So proud of u :))

I smiled at all the supporting comments and began eating my pizza, which I got out of the oven without burning my hands.

what? I'm proud of me. I always burn my hands while getting the pizza out of the oven. That's why Ej is normally doing it when... I want pizza.

After eating half of the pizza, leaving the other half for Ej, I went upstairs. I threw my bag into a corner and threw myself on bed. I sighed and grabbed my ukulele. The next thing I knew was that I started playing some chords that popped into my head.

I was hangin' with you and then I realized

I didn't think it was true, I was surprised

When I found out I've fallen for you

I didn't wanna believe my feelings for you

I didn't wanna believe that I could lose you

If I told you just how I felt

But I can't help it

I'm falling for you

And I can't quit it

'Cause I'm stuck on you

And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical

But I just want to be with you

Please tell me, boy

Can you get a clue?

Or come through 'cause I just want to be with you

,,The song is for him right?''

I gasped in surprise and turned my head to the door to see EJ leaning against my door frame, eating the pizza I left for him.

,,When did you come home?'' I asked while placing the ukulele on the floor. He walked towards me and sat on the edge of my mattress.

,,5 minutes ago but stop trying to change the subject. The song is for Ricky right?''

I just nodded, looking at my hands.

,,It's cute.''

,,What?'' I asked and looked up.

,,The song. It's cute. I mean I don't really support the idea of you and him together, you know that but I like the song.''

,,Thank you and don't worry EJ, him and me? That won't happen. He's still in love with Nini.'' I responded with a sad smile.

,,I know this may sound really awful but maybe it's just not meant to be.''

Maybe he was right. Maybe the universe wanted to show me that it just wasn't meant to be. That I was chasing a dream. Ricky was so in love with Nini and to be honest I wasn't surprised. Nini was such a sweet and gorgeous girl, always have been. It's so easy to fall in love with her. No wonder my brother did.

I nodded and the only word that left my mouth was:,,Maybe.''

EJ flashed me a smile, patted my shoulder and left the bedroom. I sighed and my head hit the pillow.

The next day was pretty much uneventful.

Ok maybe that's a lie. I did catch Nini spying on Carlos and Ricky in the library. That's a good thing right?

When I opened the door to the auditorium, everything was silent. But as soon as the door closed and I leaned my back on the wall, someone started playing the piano. The curiosity got the best of me and I walked up the stage to see who was playing the wonderful melody. I was quite surprised to discover Ashlyn sitting in front of the piano, pressing the keys softly.

,,Oh hi.'' was the first thing she said when she noticed my presence.

,,Hi. I didn't know anyone was in here.'' I answered looking at my cousin, who took her hands off the piano keys.

,,I can be gone in like 7 seconds. Six if I don't zip my bag.'' She replied as she started to throw her things into her bag.

,,No, Ash. Don't go. What was that?''

,,What was what?'' she asked and stopped packing her things.

,,The song you were just playing.''

,,Oh that. Miss Jenn asked me to compose a song for my character. It's probably way too much.'' she explained and grabbed the notes out of her bag again. I just nodded and listen to her ramble. I didn't really know why she was so nervous.

,,Why don't you play me some more of your song?'' I asked and sat down beside her. Ashlyn nodded and started playing the same melody I heard when the door closed.

,,Seems like a part of me will always have to lose.'' She began, her eyes watching her fingers which were pressing down the piano keys.

,,Every single time I have to choose

Swore that it felt right, but was I wrong?

Is this where I'm supposed to be at all?

I don't have the answers, not today

It's like nothing makes the questions go away

What I'd give to see If the grass was greener

On the other side

Of all I've had and lost

Would it be enough

Or would I still be wondering?'' she sang, her eyes still trained on the piano.

,,If I could go back and change the past

Be a little braver than I had

And bet against the odds

Would I still be lost?

Even if I woke up in my dreams

Would there still be something I'm missing?

If I had everything Would it mean anything?''

I looked at her in awe. I never really heard Ashlyn sing like that before and she had so much talent. She turned her gaze to me for a second, implying to sing with her. I smiled and turned my attention to the little sheet of paper in front of me.

,,Maybe I should turn around and take the other road

Or maybe I'm just looking for what I already know.'' we sang together, smiling after realizing that we hit every note in perfect harmony.

,,I'm just wondering...

It feels like I might have broke the best thing that I had.'' I sang alone and at that exact moment, Ricky slowly walked in. We didn't notice though. We were to caught up in our own little moment.

,,I said too much to ever take it back

I'm scared I'll never find something as good

And would I even know it if I could?'' I vocalized the verse Ashlyn wrote so flawlessly.

,,If I could go back and change the past

Be a little braver than I had

And bet against the odds

Would I still be lost?

Even if I woke up in my dreams

Would there still be something I'm missing

If I had everything

Would it mean anything.'' we both sang again.

,,To me?'' I finished and smiled. My smile fell as soon as I saw Ricky standing in the room.

,,Uh...We're back.'' he stuttered and looked at us with semi-wide eyes.

,,What?'' I asked quietly.

,,Downstairs.'' the curly-haired boy answered and shook his head slightly which made his curls bounce a little.

,,Miss Jenn wants to see everyone in the bomb shelter.'' he finished and left without saying another word. I looked at Ashlyn and she just shrugged before she got up and packed her things. Me being the incredible cousin I am, I waited for her.

When we arrived downstairs the whole theater group was building a small circle around the blonde drama teacher who had a huge carton in front of her.

,,Here it is, people.'' Miss Jenn breathed out, holding a small device in her hands.

,,Is that a garage-door opener?'' Seb asked as he looked at the small object in front of him.

,,No, Seb. This is Gabriella's Phone. From the film.''

A few students gasped.

,,I plan on creating a time-capsule display in our lobby. If they can have 40 sports-ball trophies, we deserve a little movie museum.'' the teacher explained, holding up the phone so everyone could see.

,,Okay, people, enough dazzle. Fetch your scripts please. Places for the top of the ski lodge!''

[morbid-n-macabre]

Tell me, what is your favorite murder? This is one of mine. If you've been following me for a while you may have seen me post about it before, but I don't believe I've really gone in depth.

If you had seen David Brown on the street, it's unlikely that you'd even have noticed him. The middle aged man was short, flabby, his face was terribly scarred from acne, his hair was thin and always greasy, but he did have a couple of things going for him. David was a well off computer entrepreneur who invented a way of recovering lost information, plus he was a master manipulator. David Brown chose very young and pretty women to groom. He was capable of talking them into doing anything he wanted done - including murdering the people they loved the most.

Back in 1985 David was married to a 23 year old woman named Linda Marie Bailey Brown, and together the couple had a baby named Krystal. Linda had come from a very large impoverished family in which money and food were scarce; she felt that David had "saved" her. Soon after the wedding, Linda's baby sister, Patti, moved in with David as well. Patti was not much older than David's own young daughter, Cinnamon, who lived with her father more often than her biological mother, Brenda. 14 year old Cinnamon adored her stepmother and new baby sister, and 17 year old Patti became like a sister to Cinnamon as well. To anyone looking in The Browns seemed to be a big, happy blended family, but as we know things often aren't as they seem.

When Cinnamon and Patti were first informed that David had overheard Linda and her brother plotting to kill him, the girls didn't believe it. They didn't take the claims seriously, but David insisted; he said that Linda wanted him dead so that she could have David's wealth for herself. Over a period of several months David convinced the girls that Linda was going to have him murdered, and the only way to save David's life would be to attack first! David told Cinnamon and Patti that he was too old, too frail, and too sickly to commit murder; plus, if he were to be busted, he'd never survive prison. If the girls really loved him, they'd murder Linda and keep him safe! David and the girls went over various murder scenarios until one was finally decided on. It was decided that Cinnamon should be the one to physically pull the trigger, since she was the youngest and wouldn't receive any serious prison time. David convinced his naive teenaged daughter that she'd be given nothing but a slap on the wrist, and sent home after murdering her stepmother. It was a small price to pay for saving the life of her beloved father.

During the night of March 18th, 1985, David Brown ventured into the bedroom where where both Cinnamon and Patti were sleeping. He declared, “Girls, it has to be done tonight.” Both teenagers knew exactly what David meant. Cinnamon followed the instructions which her father had given; the teenager downed multiple handfuls of pills, stumbled into the master bedroom where her beloved stepmother lay sleeping, and she shot Linda in the chest. Within a matter of seconds, little Krystal began to cry, and Patti ran to grab the baby. Linda was still alive and gurgling, so a sobbing Cinnamon aimed her pistol and shot once again. Once Linda was dead, the teen ran to a doghouse in the backyard where she collapsed; Cinnamon passed out, but not before violently vomiting up much of the medicine she'd ingested.

While his daughter and young sister in law were home doing his dirty work, David was busy securing himself an alibi. He'd driven to a late night convenience store and picked a fight with the store clerk, ensuring that no one could question his whereabouts. After enough time had passed, David returned home and summoned the police. Both he and Patti immediately blamed Cinnamon; they described her as an angry, vindictive, mentally ill teenager who truly hated her stepmother. Investigators searched everywhere for their suspect, but it was daylight when they finally found her laying inside the doghouse. There was a note pinned to the girl which read, “Dear God, please forgive me. I did not mean to hurt her”. Investigators have stated that they had a difficult time likening the girl David had described to the one they found laying on death's doorstep that morning.

As soon as she regained consciousness, a remorseful Cinnamon admitted to killing Linda; then, after speaking with her father, the teenager suddenly changed her tune. She suddenly had amnesia, Cinnamon claimed to remember absolutely nothing. As for David, police suspected him from the very get go; the man's behavior was completely off. After coming home from the convenience store David had not run into the bedroom to check on his wife, which is the first thing you'd do, right? He didn't seem too heartbroken that Linda was dead, or that his own little girl was responsible. But David's alibi was rock solid; unless Cinnamon decided to talk, there was nothing they could do. Cinnamon was found guilty of Linda's murder, and she was remanded to the California Youth Authority.

While Cinnamon lived in misery, taking the blame for everything, her father was living it up! See, David had taken out quite a substantial life insurance policy on his wife; after her murder David purchased a beautiful half million dollar home in Orange County, and guess who was still living with him? Patti, of course! It would be easy to blame Patti for some of this, but considering the fact that David had been grooming her from such a young age (he'd begun physically abusing this girl when she was just 11 years old) Patti was really nothing more than another victim. After Linda was killed, Patti took on the role of her big sister; she helped raise her niece as her own, secretly married David, and together they had a baby girl. Patti was forced to lie to everyone, she had to claim that the father of her baby had left her when she turned up pregnant. Not that this was in any way possible as Patti was not allowed out of David's sight!

Had David continued visiting Cinnamon in jail, if he hadn't tried to cut her out of his life, it's very likely she'd have stayed under his spell forever. After Cinnamon was found guilty of murdering Linda, David discontinued the visits with his daughter, he didn't write or tell her what was going on with him, and when he moved David didn't even bother giving Cinnamon his new address or phone number! Cinnamon had to call an answering service just to get in touch with her daddy! When Police told Cinnamon about the beautiful new home with the pool, the new cars her father was driving, and the fact that Patti's new baby looked an awful lot like David, Cinnamon finally decided to talk. She told them everything, agreed to convince both her father and step sister to visit her in the correction center, and Cinnamon was going to wear a wire. Over the telephone Cinnamon told David that she was ready to tell the truth, which was good enough a reason for he and Patti to visit the prison. David did his best to sweet talk Cinnamon into keeping her mouth shut, he even told the girls that they needed to swap places! Patti should take Cinnamon's place at prison while Cinnamon came home - because that's how it works, right? Though he did not admit to orchestrating the murder, after a few visits police had enough to arrest Patti and David.

Patti had been manipulated by David for so many years that she didn't know how to survive without him, she even attempted to commit suicide in his prison cell. Patti may have remained closed lipped by his side forever, had her own best friend not admitted that she'd been having an affair with David! Matter of fact, David had done his best to talk this friend into killing Patti, he had taken out a life insurance policy on her as well! Upon learning of this betrayal, Patti awoke from her spell. She finally admitted to her crimes, and Patti worked with investigators to bring David to justice.

While in prison awaiting trial, David cozied up to a badass biker and hitman named Richard Steinhart; Richard was hired to be David's bodyguard, and soon the manipulator began talking to his new best friend about the people in his life who needed to die. David offered to pay Richard a rather large sum of money if Patti, the case's lead investigator, and a couple others were murdered. While Richard agreed to do David's bidding, he was secretly wired up and working with police. Thankfully David couldn't manipulate Richard the way he had all of the young girls throughout his life.

In September of 1988 David was finally tried for the murder of Linda Bailey Brown. It wasn't until Cinnamon was on the stand that she realized how close she'd come to death on the night of Linda's murder. In all reality, David had planned to kill two birds with one stone. Matter of fact, the pills had been a second choice for David; this father had done his best to talk his 14 year old into shooting herself in the head after murdering her stepmother! But just a little bit; he had wanted Cinnamon to "knick herself" in the head with the bullet! Cinnamon had refused, thank goodness, and they had compromised on the pills; still, with the amount that she'd ingested, Cinnamon should have died.

With the testimony from Cinnamon and Patricia, David was found guilty of masterminding his wife’s murder. He was convicted of murder, setting up his own daughter to take the fall, and for hiring Richard to commit multiple murders.

Even with all the proof of what he'd done, David steadfastly maintained his innocence until the day he died in March of 2014; he lived to be 61 years of age. As for the young ladies, Patti was paroled in 1995, at the age of 23. She married a corrections officer, fought to gain custody of Heather, and then she gave birth to twin boys. It seems she's doing well. As for Cinnamon, she had received her Associate of Arts degree while incarcerated. In 1991, at the age of 21 Cinnamon was set free; she married, and has had a couple of children. Cinnamon has done her very best to live her life in complete anonymity; aside from the photo I'm sharing you can hardly find any trace of her anywhere, though she did make the news after her husband committed suicide. I have hunted down her fb page and she seems to be doing very well today; as much as I'd love to share her info I do not wish to cause her any extra stress. She seems well, and is surrounded by her own beautiful children, living in California. Then there's Linda and David's daughter, baby Krystal. She is very easy to find as she's made her presence well known on social media; she seems to be a very sweet person who has endured quite a lot in her life. After David went to prison, Krystal was sent to live with David's parents. Her grandparents never wanted her to know that her father had played a part in her mother's murder as they felt their son had been wrongly convicted. Krystal tells of the moment she realized what her father had done, someone gave her a book about the crime. Her grandparents have since passed away, leaving Krystal alone. Today she is a mother herself, and has reached out to both her sister and her aunt; she has met with Patti, and is still holding out hope that she will get to know Cinnamon in the future.

• This is one of those cases that just pulls you in, you come to care for those involved. I know I'm not the only person who feels that way about these people. The book which Ann Rule wrote about this case, "If you really loved me" is beyond excellent. It is the only true crime book I've read multiple times; yes, it is that good. One chilling aspect, it's said that the house in which Linda was killed is now haunted - in the newer versions of the book there's a photo of the ghost believed to be Linda Bailey Brown! There is also a 3 hour movie, "Love, Lies, Murder" which is also extremely well done. I'll link you, or you can search it on YouTube but keep in mind that it is told from Patti's point of view. I can also link Krystal Hinton's YouTube channel, in case anyone is interested.

Love, Lies, Murder:

https://youtu.be/X29Iio0uEnk

Krystal's YouTube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/user/TheKrystalPegasus

[jeannesell66]

6 Ways to Know If You've Been Called By God

How would you realize you're called by God?

                                                                 You should? How can you say whether you've been called by God? The principal thing I needed to perceive was that we as a whole are called by God. Paul composes, empowering everybody: "I encourage you to carry on with a daily existence deserving of the calling you have gotten" (Eph. 4:1). We are completely called by God. I could run, however I was unable to stow away from that call. 

How to Know If You Are Chosen                      

                                                                              Past that, I had the case of God calling individuals in Scripture. The discussion among Paul and Jesus as described in Acts was particularly useful. Paul imparts the story to King Agrippa. He says, Jesus let me know this: "I have appeared to you to name you as a worker and as an observer of what you have seen of me and what I will show you" (Acts 26:16).

 It's a basic sentence, however it has a great deal to show us the calling of God. In particular, we can see six parts of a call that concern us.

 6 Signs to Know You Are Called By God

 1.     Disclosure

 "I have appeared to you… "

 The standard of disclosure is that Jesus has spread the word about himself for you.

 Have you had a disclosure? Has Jesus spread the word about himself for you? Recollect whenever you first at any point dealt with the individual of Jesus. I was around eight. I recollect my mother sharing the account of how Jesus had been so pitilessly tormented. At that time, Jesus spread the word about himself for me.

 Jesus appeared to Paul in an emotional manner; to others of us he uncovers himself in a more inconspicuous manner. We are responsible for the brief look at Jesus which we have been given. This is the beginning of our relationship with him.

 Assuming you have not met the individual of Jesus Christ, you are feeling the loss of God's arrangement for your life. He may not be however drastically clear as he seemed to be with the messenger Paul, yet He wants to appear to you.

 This prompts an inquiry: Have you seen Jesus and reacted to him?

 2.     Job

 "… to name you… "

 God made us with an inbuilt requirement for reason. The standard of arrangement is that Jesus needs to give you a job.

 The Bible says that God isn't willing that any ought to die and he has enrolled us to ensure that they don't. At the point when a military enroll enrolls, he is given a position and a job. At the point when Jesus appears to us, he not exclusively does as such to save us, yet to save the world through us.

 Dwight L. Cranky said, "For quite a long time Jesus has been driving me where I would never have gone myself." Where has he been driving you?

 A considerable lot of us have never tuned in for or reacted to Jesus' arrangement. What's more, without any data, we make suspicions concerning what we ought to do. Allow me to urge you to shut out time in your schedule just to implore and hear from God about his arrangement.

 What is the job that he has given to you?

 3.     Servanthood

 "… to choose you as a worker… "

 The standard is that you are called first to be a worker.

 What does Jesus name us to do? In the first place, he calls us to become familiar with the job of a worker. This might have been simpler to learn in Jesus' day when class differentiations and slave status were common.

 An excessive number of Christians have never made Jesus Lord of their lives. He is their friend in need, however not their lord. We have turned into a congregation of takers as opposed to workers.

 Gen. William Booth, organizer of the Salvation Army, said, "The significance of a labor is the proportion of his acquiescence." Have you given up your home, your vehicle, your fantasies, your family to Jesus? Solely after we take up His plan would we be able to accept His bonus. In the event that you've done as such, with Paul, you've assumed the job of a worker.

 4.     Witness

 "… and as an observer… "

 God has likewise called you to be an observer.

 An observer is one who affirms. We are called to vouch for what we are aware of Jesus. We know, for instance, that Jesus has given us the endowment of timeless life. We realize that he wants to give that equivalent gift to every other person. We vouch for what we know.

 Have we assumed the job of an observer? Is it true that we are disturbed by the way that so many on the planet are battling to discover trust? Is it accurate to say that we are searching for approaches to intensely give a record of what God is doing in our lives?

 Where has he called you to be an observer?

 5.     Perception

 "… an observer of what you have seen of me… "

 The rule of perception expresses that You can just observer to what you have seen of Jesus.

 A few of us take cover behind the reason that "my confidence is something individual," when indeed, we haven't seen enough of him to have an effect on us.

 Growing up, I was everything except strong with regards to my confidence. I had sort of acquired a relationship with Christ from my folks. So I didn't have a lot of strength. I for the most part mishandled with words when it came my opportunity to share who Jesus was to me.

 To resemble him or to impart him to other people, we should initially see him.

 What have you seen of Jesus?

 6.     There's Something else

 "an observer… of what I will show you"

 Your observer changes as Jesus continuously uncovers himself.

 Our declaration resembles bread—it should be kept new. Whenever permitted to develop old, its lifelessness becomes apparent. Our stroll with Jesus is an every day, progressing thing.

 Our declaration or observer of his force in our life ought to be constantly refreshed as he keeps on recovering us and show new parts of his person. He has vowed to show a greater amount of himself as we stroll with him.

 The point here is that we should ceaselessly decide to stroll in the correct manner and to fill in Christ, and as we do as such, we have a new observer. We share with others our own continuous experience.

 Individuals need to hear an instantaneousness and pertinence in our observer. They know what day-old bread resembles. They don't need dried up stuff, they need reality.

 https://www63.zippyshare.com/v/iYE4eHRC/file.html

[autokratorissa]

You probably should read some of the most important Marxists---including Marx for fuck's sake---in order to be able to say whether or not something is Marxist, yeah. And note that only one---one!---of the people @rz-rosszogg mentioned was a Marxist-Leninist. Indeed, several of them, Trotsky being the blindingly obvious one but Marcuse and Adorno as Frankfurt Schoolers too, were extremely critical of Marxism-Leninism and the regimes which upheld it. Lukács also had a very complicated relationship with Stalinism, including two periods when he was exiled (first internally within the USSR, second from Hungary to Romania). The second time was for his involvement in Nagy's Revolutionary government in 1956. Clearly, if you read any of these people you might find things you agree with and which do suggest Marxism-Leninism isn't Marxist! Lukács even explicitly said that Stalin was not a Marxist. Like rz-rosszogg says, the impression you have of Marxism-Leninism is comical and doesn't reflect the diversity of the Marxist tradition, both as a whole and indeed within Marxism-Leninism specifically.

You keep flippantly saying you've read theory but it's obvious you haven't, at least not relevant to this question. If you've 'gone out of [your] way to learn this stuff' like you say then surely you can name and talk about those things you learnt, no? Yet after we've asked you to explain your reasoning, and specifically to name some of the people or works you've read that lead you to the conclusion you've made, you haven't named a single theorist, argument, or text. No mention of how Stalin's conception of a "state of the whole people" might be an anti-Marxist deviation from the Marxist theory of the state and socialist transition; or how Marxism-Leninism's typical emphasis on the productive forces over the relations of production might be a distortion of the Marxist conception of historical development which sidelines class struggle in favour of evolutionist, developmentalist, and rigidly stagist conceptions of change and revolution; or the fear that Marxism-Leninism transforms Marxism from a critical theory into a positive ideology. No, just a dismissive, totally unjustified insistence that the most prominent and popular form of Marxism ever isn't actually Marxist. You think that? Fine, but you have to justify it! You have to have a reason! And it's pretty obvious that you don't, other than a gut reaction against it. And I wonder why an American might have that kind of reaction... It's fine to not know things, or to have intuitions and even very strong opinions but know that you can't justify them. But pretending to know things that you don't is just stupid. Your only response has been to feign concern about the "implications" of a non-native English speaker capitalising a word when it's not grammatically correct. I wonder why you acted up about them capitalising "civilisation" but not "communist" or "spot light" or "socialist"..., seeing as all of them are technically wrong? Talk about bad faith.

Gonna create problems by saying something true that is gonna make people mad:

Marxist-Lenninists arent marxists