#it's not enough! it's not! i'm sorry! i have to do more but i can't!

[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.

[kairaloi]

I'd never expected this.

I sat at the dining table my dwarf neighbor had built for me when I first moved to the swamp. A warm ceramic mug of tea between my large clawed hands was another gift from a neighbor.

The weather was miserable; pouring rain in white sheets and cold enough to fog breath.

Inside my stone hut, it was warm, dry, and cozy.

My sister sat across from me. She'd been engulfed by the massive wool blanket I'd wrapped her in. The mug was nearly too big and heavy for her to lift, so to avoid spilling, she rested it on the table and tilted it to sip. She'd lost all dignity at this point. In fact, she'd lost everything, or so she claimed.

Water dripped from her hair.

"How about you start from the beginning?" I asked, my voice low and rumbling.

Arabella flinched. Her small, soft voice was still hoarse from her trip through the torrential rain to my soggy domicile of exile. Probably the farthest she'd ever traveled, let alone unaccompanied. I was surprised she'd made it here without more mishap than a torn and muddy dress. "Father... is a liar," she said.

I nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure you didn't come here to tell me the obvious."

Arabella flinched again, lowering her head. "I'm sorry."

That was unexpected.

I sipped my tea. I'd learned how to make a few simple brews from the witch of the forest. In exchange, I gave her some of the meat I caught and scared off hunters that got too close to our part of the woods. Her face was hideous, but she was old, and who was I to judge?

Arabella's face twisted. "He promised that if you took the curse for the family that the rest of us would be fine. But Kyle has... He's turned to stone! Mother is sprouting feathers! Father is the only one untouched--but I know he's made a bargain. Everyone else in exchange for his life!"

I leaned my elbow on the table, chin resting in my palm. "Ah... Arabella, I've learned a few things while out here, so let me fill you in."

Her eyes lifted, wide and shining.

"The curse is permanent." I lifted a finger, releasing my mug to do so. "The curse requires consent. If you don't consent, it doesn't work. So Kyle agreed to take it on. Monica--"

"Mother."

"Monica. Agreed to turn into a chicken."

"Harpy."

My lips curved. "Ah--" I barely stopped myself from laughing.

Arabella's jaw clenched. She looked down.

"So unless you agree to take his curse... nothing can be done."

"But Kyle! He's only thirteen!"

"Oh. Wow..." I mused. I hadn't realized it had been that long. "Well, sorry. But it's like sex. Once the deed is done, you can't undo it. He agreed." I briefly wondered if our parents had even told him that he had an older sister. Probably not. Not that it mattered now anyway. Kyle was as good as dead... unless.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Arabella screamed, her voice giving out at the end even though she'd slammed to her feet. It was hardly impressive since jumping out of the chair made her lose eight inches of height.

"Well... The Bog Hag said that curses are a lot like locks, and any lock can be picked. You just have to figure out the locking mechanism."

Arabella's eyes widened. "Like True Love's Kiss?" she asked.

"A fae demented enough to continue making deals with Allen in exchange for his family wouldn't pick something so cute."

"Father," Arabella corrected automatically, then looked down as she carefully climbed back into the chair. "What do you mean continue?"

"Loki, as he likes to be called, told me that I was taking on Allen's debt," I said with a shrug. "This leads me to believe that Allen has asked for more favors, which has incurred more debt."

"That..." her voice faded, expression changing to one of someone putting the pieces together.

"So I'm guessing the family has had quite a bit of fortune lately?" I asked, picking up my mug to finish my tea. I stood, careful not to knock anything with my tail as I went to the stove to refill my mug.

"Please help me..." Arabella asked.

I looked over my shoulder at her. "Why should I? I'm happy here."

"But you're..."

"A monster?" I grinned. "I feel more myself than I ever did in Allen's house. You can't tell me it was easy to get here with your ribs wrapped in steel and legs bound by cloth." I set my mug on the table and leaned over her, a hand on the back of the chair she sat in. "Tell me, Arabella. Were Madam Wretched's dancing lessons fun? Were Mister Wrathful's tutoring sessions enjoyable?"

My sister swallowed. She wanted to correct me on Wreath and Willson's names, but she didn't.

"Did you jump for joy when they assigned a knight to watch you day and night so you couldn't have a moment of silence without his resentful sighs interrupting?"

She flinched, hunching down in the wool blanket. "It wasn't all bad..."

"One thing," I challenged, lifting a claw near her face. "Name one thing."

Arabella opened her mouth, then closed it. She was struggling.

"All the food. All of it looked and smelled so delicious, but you weren't allowed a morsel," I offered.

She grit her teeth.

"The garden you weren't allowed in without a wide hat, parasol, and six men carrying a tent over you at all times."

"Stop..." she begged, hands covering her face.

"The man you were ordered to marry who looks like a slime and mud golem had a child," I finished.

She choked.

I put my hand on her back, gently rubbing. "Go ahead and laugh."

Arabella sobbed, laughing and crying at the same time. I knelt and put my arms around her. She gripped my thick neck, her tiny hands buried in my wild red mane. "You're right!" she admitted, voice muffled by my shoulder. "But how did you know about him?"

"People from town sometimes go to the Bog Hag for help with... problems."

"His personality is even worse than his face!"

"I could tell by the sneer they gave him in the newspaper."

Arabella sat back, wiping her face with her fingers.

I looked up at her with a sigh. "I'm still your sister," I said, resigned. She'd only been four when I was cursed, after all. She had been my little shadow, and... being thirteen at the time, I'd found her to be very annoying. Now, she was sixteen. If I'd looked up the definition of the word Princess, her picture would've been there; blonde, blue-eyed, petite, weak, soft-spoken...

Arabella stared down at me and swallowed as her eyes searched my face. "Please help me... get revenge."

My lips curled, revealing the sharp teeth my curse had blessed me with.

Despite being cursed into a monster and being banished by your royal parents, you were happy with your life. Your home was peaceful. You always had enough to eat. You even had friends despite your appearance, so yeah your life was great. Your non-cursed sibling's life, on the other hand

[kedreeva]

Hi, sorry if this is a silly question or if you’re the wrong person to ask. I take my cat on walks on a leash but do not have the means to provide a catio. Are there precautions I can take that would still allow me to walk her safely, or is it best to stop taking her outside at all for the forseeable future?

I'm honestly not the best resource for this question; I deal with birds, not cats, but the story about the big cats crossed my path and I thought it was important to share.

For domestic fowl, people are advised to keep them penned in covered areas, exclude wild birds from their areas (ie: use small netting gauges), cover food and water where possible to prevent contamination, and practice biosecurity (work clean to dirty, separate gear for separate pens, limit visitors to property, quarantine new birds, etc).

For cats, a lot of the same likely holds true- it's not a guarantee, but it also can't hurt to limit their access to wild birds and areas where wild birds can poop, keep outside gear away from them, limit visitors that could bring it in (ie people who keep poultry, people who work with wildlife etc), practice general biosecurity as well as you can. Most importantly for cats, and something you SHOULD take as a requirement not a general common sense, is do NOT feed them raw anything right now- dry kibble or pasteurized food only. Those big cats died because their raw feed was contaminated. The wild big cats that have died (mountain lions) likely died from eating contaminated meat/animals. At least one indoor cat has died from contaminated raw diet feed. So I cannot stress this enough, DO NOT FEED RAW. This includes raw frozen.

Past general common sense like that, you'd want to talk to someone from your state ag or DNR or other agencies that could advise you more specifically.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you ❞

# prompts; 6: "They kiss under the mistletoe." 7: ^ but A does the, "Oops, I'm holding mistletoe above us, guess we have to kiss." thing.

# playlist; mistletoe - Justin Bieber

# word count; 737

# note; merry christmas to all who celebrate, & Happy Holidays to those who don't<333 i missed writing for arthur so much omg.

The holidays are always a stressful time, however, more than half of your family was abroad for Christmas this year, so you all had chosen to do your family celebrations on New Year instead. Arthur and Lisa were more than happy to have you with them instead.

You spent the morning making and eating a full English, exchanging gifts, and going through their old photo albums much to your boyfriend's protests.

His parents turned in early after a bit of chatter over a few glasses of wine, leaving you lying on the couch stuffed from both dinner and copious amounts of cookies. You tap the arm he has lazily resting on your chest, "'m gonna go get some water," he whines but when you lift his arm he sighs, dramatically letting it fall back against his chest.

"Don't be long," he calls out when you disappear off into the kitchen, his eyes catch a branch of mistletoe on the mantle he presumes his mum set out to add to her decor, giving him an idea.

He listens for you intently, when he finally hears you rummaging through the the freezer for ice, he takes the opportunity to set his plan into motion, he grabs the branch and leans against the door frame, silently watching you.

When you turn, you raise the cup to your lips until you spot him and more importantly the mistletoe he's holding above the door, making you snort, "if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," you mumble, shaking your head.

You shuffle toward him agonizingly slow. Arthur reaches out for you, his free hand pulling you into him by the front of your matching, festive pajamas. A confident smirk falls from your face, and a gasp escapes you at the sudden movement.

The feeling of the water swishing in the glass, the only sound now is the ice clinking against it. His voice interrupts the silence, suddenly having dropped an octave compared to earlier, "Oh look at that," his eyes flick up to what's pinched between his fingers, "Guess we might have to kiss, now..."

Setting the glass on the counter next to you, before you hum, "Think you might be right."

He smiles content with the fact that you're going along with things, he shrugs, "I don't make the rules," he pulls you into him impossibly closer, watching how your lips twitch slightly. You're floored and Arthur can simultaneously see and feel it, "May I?"

Smiling once more at how he never fails to make sure you're comfortable, "You may," somehow you've found yourself breathless at his words and demeanor alone. He dips down to catch your mouth with his, facial hair tickles your upper lip when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's hands, warm and strong, slowly slide under the hoodie you had stolen earlier that morning. As he presses you back against the counter, your bodies locked together, you both freeze at the sound of a voice calling out just behind you, "Arthur, you've got a bedroom for a reason."

Lisa, shit. He steps away from you quickly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, "Sorry, mum," he mutters, he always talks about how comfortable they are with talking about certain things but you find yourself wanting to giggle at how he can't meet her eyes.

"She's a nice girl, she doesn't need to be done on my counter," you can't stifle your laughter now, you watch in your peripheral the way his face twists, "Mum! I understand, please," he pleads, obviously hating this conversation.

Lisa scoffs as she turns on her heels deciding she's said enough to his face, but she continues mumbling about raising him to be a gentleman as she disappears around the corner and shuts her bedroom door loudly.

"That's so embarrassing," he groans, hiding his face in his hands with a sigh. You reach for his wrists, tugging them away gently to reveal his reddening cheeks. "'ts not embarrassing," you reassure him, a small smile on your lips. "It's sweet; she cares."

He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle as he drops it onto your shoulder. "Such a cockblock," he mutters into your ear. You flick the back of his neck, making him step back, rubbing the spot with a mock frown. "Maybe it's a sign we shouldn't be shagging in your parents' house, hm?"

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

nymph. [part 4] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you. but everything has changed.

Warnings:  +18, smut, fluff, maybe a little bit of angst, gods and mythology are treated in a simple way

A/N: part 4. I secretly hope you'll be gentle with me. I'm very curious about what your thoughts will be after this chapter. Please remember that I'd love to hear your comments and ideas. And especially when it comes to the ending of this part… I'll leave you alone now. I send you all my love.

I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

"She's not from here."

Marcus raised his eyes and followed his old friend's gaze. They could see your silhouette between the trees. It was a beautiful, sunny day and you and Melitta were spending it in the garden. 

The young girl had become your companion, although Marcus had often noticed the embarrassment and delight in her eyes almost simultaneously when she looked at you.

"No, she's not," he confirmed. "But would you believe me if I told you?"

Brutus smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I'm old enough to believe anything." he said. "But please, Marcus. Don't tell me things you should keep to yourself. Here," he pointed to the General's broad chest. "Everything is safer here."

Brutus' gray eyes wandered back to the garden. He had known Marcus when he was a child, his father had been Brutus' friend, and after his death he had surrounded the young man with care. He had never seen a woman in his house before, and he certainly didn't know of any that Acacius would look at in such a way.

"You love her." He said.

He didn't have to ask. He was at an age where certain things were simply obvious to him. Like this.

"I do." Marcus sighed. "More than anything."

"That's good. You can't fight the whole world without someone close to you. But she's not from here. Is she free?"

Marcus's eyebrows drew together. "I didn't take her as a concubine or a slave. She's free, more than any of us."

"Her family?" he saw a shadow in Acacius's gaze. "I see. Don't explain it, Marcus. She shouldn't appear among people without a background. Let's think..."

A warm wind blew through the window, playing with the delicate curtains, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers. Brutus took a sip of wine and cleared his throat.

"You should say that her parents died when she was still a child. It would be safest." he said, and Marcus fixed his gaze on him, listening carefully. "Later, some distant family member took care of her. It wasn't a significant family. You met and fell in love, simply. Don't mention her origins, don't pay attention to her. Some may gossip about you, but it will quickly die down."

"I'm not afraid of gossip, only of her safety." Acacius replied. "I am the General, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to ensure the safety of the one I love."

Brutus nodded his gray head in understanding. "The gods must be favorable to you if you found each other in this vast world. It's a good sign."

And he really hoped that his friend was right.

A dozen or so days at Marcus' house passed quickly. You didn't find boredom there. Melitta accompanied you every day, slowly becoming a close friend. 

Antigonus, on the other hand, strived to ensure that all your requests, or at least those that General Acacius agreed to, were fulfilled. So although he sometimes grumbled something under his breath, he let you sit for hours in a room full of maps and writings, which you looked through, and then in the evenings you asked Marcus about them.

His duties to the Emperor and Rome didn't allow him to spend as much time with you as he would have liked, but the thought that he was coming back to you was something that kept him sane. 

Never before had this house been filled with such conversations and feelings. Never before had he felt as if he was hiding the most precious treasure. You.

"If you knew the true faces of the gods, your eyes would turn white." You said one evening, turning in the sheets. The glow of the candles danced on your bare back, and your hair was in a sweet mess. "All those carvings in the temples, the paintings - poof! - nonsense. None of you have seen the true wrath of Mars or Jupiter. You have not experienced the grace of Venus."

"So what lies next to me if not a gift from Venus?" Marcus asked, leaning down and placing a kiss somewhere between your shoulder blades. "Or Mars? I thought I was the favorite of the gods?"

"Sometimes you are too sure of yourself, General." You replied sarcastically, but you sighed quietly when his hand tightened on your buttock. "The gods have their favorites, but that doesn't mean they can't get bored with them."

"I don't care." His hands grabbed your hips and quickly turned you around, your laughter filling the darkened chamber. "As long as I have you in my hands, I am not afraid of the wrath of the gods. You are my redemption."

A hand tenderly stroked his cheek, fingers slipping into the curly hair among which you could see silver threads. "Don't treat me like one of them, my beloved... I'm not worthy of this."

The brown eyes that were staring at you, however, said something else. Adoration and delight radiated from his insides.

"To me, you are above them all." he replied, spreading your thighs with his hand and placing himself between them. "I want to adore you every day. Praise the day when my eyes saw you for the first time. Fight for you, conquer for you, live for you."

"Marcus..."

His hard cock slid into you without a problem, all the way to the base. Still slippery, full of his seed. You had made love just a moment earlier, like almost every night. Almost, because you also appreciated those moments when you could just fall asleep in each other's arms, feeling the closeness of your bodies, feeling the steady beating of your hearts.

"I will adore and worship you." his voice was low, he whispered to you as if he was praying "Your body is a temple, your sweet moans are songs of praise..." you sighed feeling him move inside you, you tightened your fingers on his strong shoulders "I was a mere mortal when your grace fell upon me. You were the one who decided to stay with me, now I will give you all of myself."

Hot lips kissed your neck as Marcus thrust into you with increasing force. You already knew perfectly well his endless hunger for you, so you gave him what he needed.

Acacius was a generous lover. He gave you pleasure in every way he knew, and you fell apart in his hands, intoxicated by this feeling. 

You never thought before that bodies could fit together so well, complement each other so much and give each other small deaths, while feeling that they were more alive than ever before.

"I love you..." his hot whisper reached your ears, you wrapped your arms around his neck, slid your hands into his soft hair "More than life, more than anything I know."

He hit exactly that spot, you couldn't say a word, catching your breath. His hot, sweaty body was pressing down on you lightly, but it didn't matter. Soon the pleasure spread through your body, all your senses and heart froze. 

Marcus felt your delicate walls squeeze his cock, but he didn't stop. His prayers had to be finished. He lifted himself on his shoulders, eyes swept over your sweaty cleavage and breasts, wandering to the place where you were connected. He disappeared inside you a few more times, and then a deep moan escaped his throat as his seed spurted into you, filling you up again.

Tender hands touched his face again, pulling him into a kiss. Soft lips that he never wanted to leave, arms that were supposed to embrace him forever. The woman who was supposed to love him for eternity.

When Marcus told you that morning that you could go out with him and see Rome, your eyes widened with delight. You had been begging him to let you see the city for a long time, although you understood perfectly well why he refused to do so. Every decision had to be thought out, every move planned.

"We'll visit Brutus, it's nothing interesting." he said, but the smile didn't leave his lips when he saw the glint in your eyes.

Melitta had been trying to help you dress for several minutes, but you were so excited that you couldn't stand still.

"My lady." she sighed. "The sun will set before you cross the threshold. Please..."

"I know, I know..." you repeated once again "It's just so, so exciting."

"Rome is beautiful." Melitta draped the material over your shoulder "You'll like it. Although I prefer forests and meadows... Bathed in the morning light, with the grass still covered in dew."

You tightened your fingers lightly on her arm. "I'll take you there, I promise." you said quietly "Soon."

The door creaked and you both jumped as General Acacius appeared before you. Even though he wasn't wearing armor, he still looked dignified. He smiled at the sight of you and nodded towards Melitta.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lord." she said curtsying.

"You did well." he praised her "You look wonderful, my love. I have something for you."

He took your hand and carefully slid a gold ring with an emerald stone onto your finger. He pressed his lips to your knuckles.

"It's for your safety." He explained seeing your questioning look. "Anyone who sees this ring will know who you..."

"...belong to." You finished for him.

He kissed your hand again and covered it with his. He wanted to avoid saying those words, but at the same time he wanted them. He wanted to know that you were only his.

Your eyes darted from one face to another, from one fruit stand to the beautifully dressed people you saw leaving the building. Conversations, laughter, the sound of horses' hooves, children running around. You had never been in a place like this before.

Marcus was close to you the whole time, observing your every move and gesture, noticing every smile and delight in your eyes. For a moment he regretted that he didn't see it all the same way you did. 

Years of fighting wars, talking to politicians, worrying about the fate of the country, had made him feel tired and numb. To everything, except you.

"Thank you, beautiful lady! May the gods bless you!" a hoarse voice rang out behind him.

It was only then that he noticed that you had escaped his eyes. Something or someone caught your attention. An older man, in a tattered robe, who was sitting against the wall begging for alms. The closer to the gladiator fights, the more of them appeared in the city, of all ages, sexes, and in various states of health.

Something flashed in the man's dirty hand and Acacius realized that you had given him one of your rings. Not the one he had given you that morning, some other one. He felt a warm surge of affection for you, because he had already forgotten what or who you were before, that you thought differently than those he knew.

A strong hand gently grabbed your arm. "We should go."

You nodded and obediently followed Marcus.

"The Emperor expects your presence during the fights. You should be there." Brutus sat comfortably on a bench under a spreading tree and nodded to the young girl who handed him wine. "There will be no better opportunity for her to go there with you."

"I'm not so sure about that." Marcus replied. "The Emperor, these people..."

"You can't keep her at home forever, Marcus!" the man snorted "I know you want her safety, but someone will notice her soon. Besides, I heard that a few people would be interested in you finally getting married."

Acacius frowned and snorted at the very statement. This topic always appeared when he returned to Rome, that's why he preferred barracks and battlefields, soldiers didn't care about marital status. 

Besides, marriage for people of his position was rarely connected with deeper feelings. It was about the arrangement, about position, about wealth, about creating a strong family.

Somewhere nearby he heard a familiar quiet laugh and noticed you with Aurelia, Brutus' wife, who was showing you around their house. His friend noticed how the General's face brightened at the sight of you.

"It gives me great joy to see you like this." he said warmly "I don't know what spell this girl has cast on you, but the gods are kind to you, since they allowed your paths to cross."

"I will be grateful to them for the rest of my life." Marcus said. "I feel like I knew her before my eyes first met her."

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know... Maybe it was just a dream." He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of sweet wine. "So be it. She will accompany me there." Brutus patted him on the shoulder happily. "You're right. There will be no better time, and I don't want to risk it."

"We will be there too. But warn her, Marcus. A viper's nest is a terrible place for beautiful creatures like her."

Acacius nodded. A strange fear filled his heart, but when he heard your footsteps, when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, it all flew away with the wind.

Something strange woke you up at night. For a moment you tried to understand what it was. Marcus was sleeping quietly next to you, his arm around your waist, his body as hot as the sun close to yours. 

You felt it again. The scent that woke you up, so familiar.

Sage and other herbs, burning somewhere outside the window, in a garden immersed in darkness. You quietly and carefully got out of bed and threw thin robes over your naked body. The window was open and the gentle wind must have unconsciously brought the delicate smoke into the room.

You strained your eyes to see in the darkness the person who was not only burning herbs, but also... 

Yes, you knew the words to this prayer. You had heard it several times in one of the temples, but not in the temple dedicated to Minerva. These were words addressed to Venus, and they were whispered quietly by someone you knew so well. 

A prayer filled with regret, interwoven with quiet sobbing…

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

@ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing @mynameisbaby9 @94namkooksworld @bbyanarchist @picketniffler @tranquilty @psyched2b @jeewrites @tuquoquebrute @aotfantasmagorias

[imbecominggayer]

Writing Advice: Writing Authentic Dialogue

For @radiantmocha TL;DR: advice for writing combat and improving dialogue authenticity?

I'm sorry that this post is going to be so short but it's a really simple topic for me :D

A) Authenticity: Actually Talk To These People Or Read Their Books

When it comes to looking for authentic dialogue, especially in relation to combat, just trying to start up a connection with a professional can be the gateway into actual realism.

If you can, try talking to a veteran or someone actively serving in the military!

If you are interested in a specific time in history that no one is currently alive from, try talking to either a historian or a history buff.

If neither of those options work for you, try reading books and other stories that were written by veterans. My favorite book of this genre is "All Quiet On The Western Front" which is a semi-autobiographical book exploring what life was like for german soldiers in WW1 which was written by Erich Maria Remarque, a German veteran of WW1.

I emplore you to explore stories, even fictional stories, that were written by soldiers!

B) Authenticity: Accounting For The Environment

What's the time period that the story is set?

Where is the story set?

What is the socio-economic status of the protagonist?

What is the personality of the protagonist?

Answer these questions (and more) to understand what a character will and wont say. Characters fighting in WW1 won't reference tanks pre-Battle of Somme.

This advice is true for everything. An innocent, rich kid will certainly speak differently, using different verbage, in comparison to a kid living in the slums. They will also prioritize different things.

What I hate most in stories is when characters, poor for their entire life, poverty-striken, starts wildly proclaiming ideas of justice, fairness, and equality while fighting bullies left and right. Most people in that situation need to keep their head down. They can't afford to go to the police station for "contributing to the a fight" Independent women can't get into the middle of a fight! Do you know how much medical bills cost? If they manage to survive, it's not going to be pretty. No matter how much self-defense classes like to tell women, most women understand that they can't overpower a determined man.

That isn't evil, that's survival, that's practicality! Ideals have always been prioritized by people privileged enough to have the time to think while the poor and always working need to be always working!

Sorry, that was a rant

In Conclusion:

Read stories that real people have written that are either semi-autobiographical or autobiographical! Keep in mind the time and place!

And so sorry for that rant!

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jaemin (idol AU)

IMAGINE: he rents a room in a hotel to have a really nice dinner but your mind is somewhere else.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• you sighed deeply to gain the strenght that seems to have left your body: you worked your ass off for 12 hours at the hospital where you were doing your specialization. but holy shit were you tired.

• you were used to long shifts, you loved your job and usually even 20 hours of work were easily manageable but today- even getting ready for your date with the most attractive man you ever met in your life was HARD.

• getting all dolled-up and choosing an outfit was one of your favourite activities and the idea of having a fancy dinner in an expensive hotel was great but your body was really struggling rn, in front of the location where jaemin was waiting for you.

• you took the elevator to reach the room jaemin texted you about and sighed again, getting ready to be charming and sexy for him. you liked him a lot tbh but of course you only had a few dates together and you were basically still strangers.

• jaemin opened the door of the room to welcome you in and the bright smile he gave you made your shoulders relax instantly. his presence was really comforting.

• "hi pretty" "hi jaemin, you look very handsome, as always"

• he laughed letting you in (to hide the butterflies that threatened to climb up through his throat) and taking your coat for you. "you're stunning, as always. i'm sorry, i know it looks very suspicious to have dinner in this room rather than the restaurant but-" "oh you don't need to explain, i saw the amount of people that are hanging in the hall. i like it here, it's more quiet"

• he smiled again and guided you to take a seat at the table. you looked around and- that wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a living room and a kitchen and probably two or more bedrooms.

• the dinner was going on smoothly as always, he was funny and charming. you could listen to him talking all day long without getting tired, but tonight your body was failing you and your legs hurt so much it was distracting.

• "are you okay?"

• you looked up at him and smiled. "of course! um... what were you saying?"

• he didn't answer and looked at you unconvinced, but resumed his discourse nevertheless.

• "omg i'm sorry, hold on a second. i really need to-" you got up abruptly startling him and you shamelessly took off your black heels and exhaled loudly, letting your feet enjoy the freedom.

• jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, shocked by your sudden and weird change of character. you sighed and came back to your seat, giving another bite at your perfectly cooked steak. "you were talking about the shooting. what happened then?"

• he just stared at you for a while, starstrucked. then he tilted his head. "how many hours did you work today?"

• you blinked. "i told you" "i feel like you lied to me tho"

• you held his gaze for a bit, but then you collapsed on the chair and sighed in defeat. "twelve"

• jaemin's eyes widened. "WHAT?" he got on his feet immediately and walked around to stand behind you. when you feel his hands on your bare shoulders you flinch, but relax immediately after.

• "w-what are you doing?" "you need to rest, what the hell were you thinking? i would've never invited you here knowing how tired you are!"

• you know what he means but you decide to tease him, trying to focus while his hands massage your skin and above all... trying not to moan, for god sake. "are you saying that i'm not pretty enough when i'm tired?"

• he laughs loudly and you can't see him but you feel his gorgeous smile shining behind you. and when he leans forward to whisper directly in your ear, you swear your heart flips in excitement.

• "you're truly a menace... i should watch my mouth, don't i?"

• you want to answer but his said mouth finds its spot around your earlobe and every possible word dies in your throat. he continues his journey down your neck until his lips reach your shoulder. and you finally moan.

• "ah, here it is. i'm waiting to hear you like this since we met, baby" "you really need to watch your mouth, pretty boy"

• you grab his head and smash your lips together, he sighs in your mouth and caress your arms, savouring your soft skin with his fingertips. "you're exquisite"

• "you didn't even taste me yet" "omg can i?"

• you see him TREMBLE and the excitement dancing in his eyes makes your mouth and your core water. "help yourself, sweetie"

• he moans just thinking about it and gets on his knees instantly, settling between your legs. he caresses your thighs trying not to drool and he reaches immediately for your panties, taking them off and leaving you in only your short dress.

• he lifts up the hem of it and attacks your core like a starved man, starting to kiss and lick and suck right away. you moan and grab his perfectly styled hair in your fingers, pulling at it.

• "shit" "relax, let me hear your pretty voice"

• jaemin finds himself craving your moans and whimpers: you're very vocal and he happens to love it. but you'll soon find out that he... purrs. every time you touch him properly he purrs. he lets out such low and shameless growls that your thighs clench involuntarily.

• after a few minutes, you're sprawled on the first bed you found with his erection in your hand, his mouth sucking one of your breast and your bodies completely naked on each other.

• between a whimper and a moan, he speaks "you remember that night, when we first met?". you nod.

• "i said that i fell in love with you then. i wasn't lying. i'm in love with you, y/n. i fell on my knees like a dumb kid. you have me wrapped around your finger and i love everything about that"

• you smile and look at the way he's caressing your breasts while he's saying all of these things directly in your face and you're stroking his damn member. you're very sure that this man is one to keep close.

• "then make love to me"

• the look you both exchange is sweet and the kiss after that is the most awesome kiss you'll ever experience in your life. you're sure of that.

• and when your bodies fully interlock you feel your mind melting in the bliss of the moment: jaemin's skin is all over yours and his hands cherish your every curve and line.

• his movements are sharp and rhythmic but slow, he takes care in every gesture, every stroke, every thrust.

• you had sex with different men before (and you can tell he had women in his hands before too) and you enjoyed a lot of good sex, but this hits different: you never felt this intimate with someone, especially because this is your first time together! wtf? but your bodies feel so comfortable interwined together.

• him in you... his eyes looking at you adoringly and lost in all the sensations you're enjoying right now... his hands holding you tight... does it feel amazing? yes. does it feel exciting? yes. but above all... it feels right.

• you reach the climax when he presses your clit with his thumb without stopping his melliflous thrusts. and when your walls clench around him he curses under his breath and cums right away, riding your shared orgasm till the end.

• he sighs and throws himself next to you, pulling you towards him and letting you rest on his broad chest. when you hear his heart beating at an alarming pace you smile and caress his abs.

• "what if i call you every time i have a 12 hours shift?" "how often does that happen?" "every two days" "that's too little, i need to see you at least once a day"

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[ri-writes-if]

Please please please please please please please please please please please please

Can you write a snippet with Az for the last ask? The one where MC died happy😢🥹🥹🥹

Please please please please please please please please please please please please

With Os

Ehehe! Have some angst in the last days of the year, lol (sorry not sorry)

This isn't dying happy, so beware. I'm afraid there's no possibility of dying happy in Az's hands 😭

"You need to go find someone," you mutter. "Now. Don't stay alone." You know they can't take it. That's what scares you the most. Not the death waiting for you, its arms open for a cold, welcoming embrace, but Az's state of mind after you die. It brings tears to your eyes. Fear the likes of which you've never felt before strangles your heart. "Please go," you whisper, looking into their wide open eyes. Their gaze is blank. They look through you, like their mind is already somewhere else. Already lost to you even before you're lost to them. "Shut up," Az hisses, their brows furrowing. They pull you closer, hugging your tightly, their mouth pressed against your forehead, and begin to rock you from side to side. Just a bit, not enough to move you too much and cause more pain. "I don't want you to leave," they murmur. "I don't want to say goodbye. I can't." They take a deep, shivering breath. "I'll go after you." You don't understand what they're saying—until you do. You force your hand to move and lift it to grip their arm. "Don't even think about it. I was happy with you. And with the others. You need to live well and look after them for me. And after yourself." You hear them chuckle. It's low, pained, and a little mad. They don't argue—because your words don't matter. Nothing can keep them away from the edge. Nothing less than a miracle. You both are doomed.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hi! i hope you're well! i saw a post recently about how much dumber the trio is compared to the marauders and they cited the marauders being able to be animagi, regulus finding out about the horcrux before everyone, snape correcting the textbook and making spells, etc, compared to the trio (especially harry) and how harry had to begin DA by teaching expelliarmus, how harry isn't very powerful etc which is blatant mischaracterisation (sorry if im ranting a little, im a little hurt for my boy loll).

anyway, they were saying how this is because of the hogwarts education system and it declined under dumbledore who was more interested in politics than running a school, which i found interesting. i do see where they were coming from, especially with so many subjects closing down over the years, with now only 12 owl subjects. i wonder if it's some sort of repression.

i was curious to see if you thought the education system at hogwarts has declined over the years dumbledore has been headmaster and if you think the marauders generation was smarter than the golden trio's generation.

Hi!

So, I'm not going to rant about Harry being super magically powerful here, since I already made this rant multiple times, so I'm going to focus on Hogwarts education.

The first claim I want to dispel is that the education at Hogwarts declined drastically under Dumbledore between the two generations. The main reason this point doesn't make sense is that Dumbledore became headmaster in the mid-60s (before Voldemort came to his interview in 1967), enough time before the Mauradres started school at 1971 that most major changes from changing the headmaster would've already happened. (That being said, 12 subjects was the standard also when Tom Riddle was at school, the subjects at Hogwarts haven't changed for a good century at least and have nothing to do with Dumbledore).

If we take a look at the faculty of Hogwarts, we actually see Dumbledore employed many of the same professors in the Mauraders generation and the Golden Trio's generation (At least for most core subjects):

Minerva McGonagall taught the Mauraders. Any transfiguration (becoming animagi) they learned beyond the classes she taught the Golden Trio were done via self-study on the Mauraders' part:

“Precisely,” said Professor McGonagall. “Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don’t think we’ve ever had such a pair of troublemakers —”

(PoA, Ch10)

Her curriculum likely hadn't changed in these years. It's just, like the Golden Trio, the Mauraders did a lot of self-studying beyond the curriculum.

Filius Flitwick in that same conversation in PoA mentions teaching the Mauraders as well:

“You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!”

(PoA, Ch10)

Reberus Hagrid was already working at Hogwarts as the Groundskeeper and knew the Mauraders when they were students:

“I dunno,” chuckled Hagrid. “Fred and George Weasley could give ’em a run fer their money.”

(PoA, Ch10)

Cuthbert Binns had been teaching History of Magic way before Dumbledore started as a student at Hogwarts. That subject was always shit and it's nothing new.

As you can see, many of the core faculty are the same. There were some different professors though.

It's likely Professor Grubby-Plank was the one who thought the Mauradres Care of Magical Creatures, if they took the subject, and she's clearly an accomplished teacher. But Dumbledore brings her on to teach the trio when Hagrid can't, it's not exactly that his standards of education changed, it's just that he has different priorities (which I will get to).

(Edit: @roserainier pointed out Silvanus Kettleborn was the Care of Magical teacher since headmaster Dippett and until 1993. In Tales of Beedle the Bard, it's mentioned that Dippett considered Kettleborn incredibly reckless, which he was considering he enlarged Ashwinders and let them loose to explode around students and went on prohibition 62 times. So, really, Hagrid is pretty much the standard Care teacher Hogwarts employees it seems and Dumbledore isn't endangering the students of that class more than Dippett did).

Slughorn was replaced by Snape. While Snape is an asshole, he is a very accomplished potioneer, who, as you said, corrected the textbook Slughorn still uses (meaning Dumbledore hired a better potioneer to teach the subject in Harry's time). And Snape has many faults, but he is fair in his grading for most students (Hermione gets mostly 'O's in Potions).

Trawlany is a professor Dumbledore is keeping around for her safety and skills in divination, not for her teaching ability. So, she's a bit of an exception. That being said, Dumbledore wanted to cancel the subject entirely before she convinced him Divination is real, so, I kinda get it. I mean, he knows she is a real seer.

While we don't know much about the rest of the faculty, it appears nothing dramatic is happening in Arithmancy or Study of Ancient Runes since Hermione is quite happy with the standard there.

Muggle Studies is implied to be kinda shit, but it's likely it was that way in the Mauraders' time too. It's mostly a lack of muggleborns who want to teach the subject and pure-bloods (half-bloods raised in the wizarding world) have no idea what they are talking about. I mean, Arthur Weasley 100% took the subject when he was in school (under Headmaster Dippett) and yet he doesn't really understand muggle inventions or money. The fact Hermione doesn't complain that Muggle Studies is a sham like Divination implies Burbage probably knows more about muggles than whoever taught the subject to Arthur.

Dumbledore didn't change the standard of education or school policies between the Mauraders' generation and the Golden Trio's. at least not by much. Hogwarts was always kinda crap as a school and if I was a witch in the UK, I'd probably homeschool my children regardless of the headmaster.

I will say Dumbledore did do some changes compared to the time Arthur and Molly went to school though, as they started Hogwarts when Dippett was still the headmaster. But these changes didn't seem to change the subjects Hogwarts offers, or the standard of education there. Among them was one major improvement to Hogwarts compared to Dippett:

Dumbledore outlawed corporal punishment against students.

As we know when Arthur and Molly were in school, corporal punishment was still a thing:

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll,” she said. “He got caught by Apollyon Pringle — he was the caretaker in those days — your father’s still got the marks.”

(GoF, Ch31)

So the caretaker before Filch did get to whip/cane students (unclear exactly what he did) like Filch wishes he could.

Now, I mentioned I'd come back to the DADA situation and Dumbledore's different priorities. We'll start with DADA since that's easier to explain:

In 1967, following his interview, Voldemort cursed the DADA position so no teacher could keep it for more than a year. So, when the Mauraders go to school, it was still the early years of the curse, meaning Dumbledore had an easier time finding qualified Defence professors. By the time Harry starts school in 1991, Dumbledore had to go through about 24 Defence professors (likely a bit more), so he's scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to Defence professors due to circumstances.

Additionally, since the rumor of the curse has spread, many possible DADA professor candidates might be apprehensive about taking the job. Again, this limits Dumbledore's pool of possible teachers.

Now, even if he was limited, he had options that would've been better than Lockhart and Umbridge (basically anyone would be better. The ghoul in the Weasley's attic would've been better). And these two choices have to do with Dumbledore's priorities, as you mentioned.

While Harry's in school, Dumbledore's first priority isn't student safety or education — it's to prepare Harry to face Voldemort. His employment choices (Hagrid, Lockhart, Umbridge (choosing not to find a professor though the real Moody was right there!)) were all meant to teach Harry something valuable. They were for Harry's sake, not anyone else's. Dumbledore actively made subpar hiring choices knowing he was sacrificing students' safety and education. His first priority is Voldemort's return and to prepare Harry for it.

He is, after all, the same guy who let Draco run around harming, and almost killing multiple students in HBP because it served his plan for Voldemort. This man is a general first and an educator second, and any declines in the education at Hogwarts are due to that. But I wouldn't call it political, per se, it's more about Harry and Voldemort specifically. He's not actively making education worse because of malicious political intent, but he sees it as his duty to make sure Harry would face Voldemort. It's much more targeted, I think.

I will also note, that the effects of these priorities are mostly contained to the DADA position, most other core subjects (Charms, Transfiguration, History, Herbology, and Astronomy) are basically the same. Care and Divination do suffer a decline too due to the staff (that were chosen not for politics, but to protect and keep the teachers close at hand), but Potions was improved, education standard-wise at least.

McGonagall and Flitwick make another point regarding the decline that comes from Harry being at school:

“I should think not,” said Professor McGonagall sharply. “How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?” “Hear, hear!” squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

(PoA, Ch10)

When Harry's at school, things are way more hectic and tense than they are in the Maruarders' times (in part because Harry's there). This affects the teachers' ability to teach and students' ability to learn.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry (especially the latter two) are actually quite advanced compared to their year because of all the extra studying they put in for the various mysteries they've got going on. Patronus, protego, protean, etc. are all charms the trio practices way before they are taught by the Hogwarts curriculum. The Mauraders are similar. Becoming animagi is not part of the Hogwarts curriculum. Making the map is not part of the curriculum. Both groups are brilliant, but they focus on very different things due to their drastically different situations.

The Mauraders become animagi to help Remus. They made the map to play pranks and have fun.

The trio, learned most of the spells they knew beyond the curriculum to protect themselves. Hermione learned the Protean Charm to make the D.A. coins and Harry learned Patronus and Protego to defend himself and others. The trio started fighting a war way younger than the Mauraders, so the extracurricular stuff they study is more oriented towards what they need, rather than to have fun.

I will note in general, that I don't think there's that big of a difference between the generations for most subjects (which are the same 12 subjects). I'd say the average student in Harry's time isn't worse in any subject (apart from DADA, perhaps) than the average student in the Mauraders' times. It's just that many of the main characters we hear about (such as Harry, Hermione, Lily, Severus, James, and Sirius) are not the average student. They are way above the average and considered exceptional by their various teachers. While characters like Ron, Remus, and Regulus are closer to the average, they are still above/the higher end of the average. So none of them is exactly an example of the standard.

I mean, think how many main characters we had at the Slug Club due to their skills, it just goes to show how exceptional they are. The average student can't exactly be measured according to the outliers.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Say, if someone were to take a long time (more than months) before speaking up about racism, are they wrong for not immediately addressing it and instead letting the hurt fester? The first time it happened I was questioning my own perception, and by the time I became sure, it feels like it's too late (and it's also been very long after the last time I saw it happen too), and I feel like I also played a part in not immediately speaking up because of fear of the consequences. None of the racism were big enough, but if I were to list every instance then wouldn't it look like I'm being petty and trying to smear campaign someone? Or immature for being avoidant and not communicating my hurt immediately?

I'm going to approach this from an antiblackness perspective, since that's what I talk about here.

I think it depends on a couple of factors. Are you Black? If so, then no, it's not wrong to feel hurt about it no matter how long ago it happened. What you experienced was wrong, and it'll always be wrong. Plus, not wanting to speak up because you know it'll just be a threat to you is a common reason why Black people usually don't speak up about racism. Because yeah, you'll get dogpiled and gaslit and abused when you dare suggest someone was *gasp* bigoted toward you and needs to apologize! There's no statute of limitations on racism, and we shouldn't have to create an entire case to prove ourselves the way we do. That said, if this is a stranger, you will probably not be able to approach on the offensive because you let the time pass. So unless you have receipts, really all you can do is block them and move on with your life, or tell them privately "hey, this thing you said/did wasn't okay. I didn't say anything before because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, but I have not felt as safe around you since then, and I felt you needed to know" (and then probably block them). And you can't expect them to take it well- all you can do is say something, if you choose to at all. And if they take it that poorly, now you have the ability to tell others "yeah, this person did not take hearing about their bigotry well, and is not safe for Black people to be around". Because I would want to know if who I'm sharing from hates me.

If you are not Black, then I want you to consider (using your words) why the racism wasn't "big" enough, especially given that it wasn't dangerous towards you. What do you need to see in order to speak up? And by allowing it to get that large, recognize that you helped create a space where that behavior was safe and acceptable by saying nothing when all the "small" racism was occurring! That said, people are going to take it as petty regardless of your intent, because that's how racism is treated both here and outside the internet. It may be demeaned, treated as a smear campaign, because people think calling out racism is worse than being racist. So it really depends on how much you're willing to stand on it. You saw all these things happen, you have the receipts, you know you're in the right- are you willing to speak up? Are you willing to accept what may happen, or are you more worried about your own comfort? Maybe you'll allow Black people who saw all that racism feel heard and valid, so they can speak up too. Maybe you'll start a conversation that needs to be had. Maybe you'll be a step towards cracking that environment where this racism was acceptable, or worse case scenario, you'll recognize that this isn't a place you want to be if racism is treated so lightly. Those are hard decisions!

Sorry that this probably didn't make you feel better, but it's not a light topic.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 2: Tangled Lights

Pairing: Wild x Reader

Warning(s): N/A; tooth-rotting fluff and the use of 'mommy'

Notes: Set in modern!au, though not necessarily the same as Knightmare in Toronto.

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

It was a beautiful winter afternoon.

The sky was clear, the breeze was biting, and your boyfriend was hanging off of the shingles, wrapped in your newly purchased Christmas lights like a gigantic holiday spider had spontaneously materialized and decided he was luminous enough to be strung up with the lights.

"Do I even want to know?" You pinched your temples, wondering if it was worth bringing the fire department into this mess. When Wild's expression reached peak shamelessness, and his big mouth opened to undoubtedly spew some ungodly bullshit, you waved your hands and continued: "Actually, don't answer that, I already know the answer is 'no'. How the hell did you even manage this?"

"I can't reach the ladder," he pouted, arms straining; like that was the problem here. You followed his gaze, eventually noticing the ladder-shaped imprint in the snow covering your front lawn. One deadpan later, and your temples were in desperate need of a re-pinching.

Hylia help me.

"Link," you said.

He perked up. "Yes, princess?"

"Link," you breathed, feeling like you were going insane. "Link, what in the Goddess's name possessed you to climb the roof without a ladder–"

"Inaccurate, I started with the ladder–"

"–AND then decide to put Christmas lights on with literally no way to get down?" You finished, eye twitching.

Wild shrugged, though it looked more like a halfhearted roll than anything. "I'm not afraid of heights."

"Yeah, but you're afraid of being single, so stay there while I call the fire department–" you shot back, already pulling out your phone. Before you could dial anything, however, there was a horrid creaking noise. You blanched when the lights began to strain under his weight. "–Link, stop moving!"

"I'm not!" The moment he turned his head to glance at you, the lights creaked louder, a few wires snapping. You watched in abject horror as his body dropped a few feet.

You weren't sure who moved faster; you or him.

Time seemed to blur when you threw yourself forward–phone flying to land in the puffy snow–arms outstretched to catch his falling form. Seconds crawled by, and, for a split second, all you could see were those eyes; those big, beautiful, cerulean eyes that never failed to make your heart sing, clench, and burst. Big, bluebell irises that were blown wide in shock.

Wild landed in your arms with a grunt, and you both fell into the snow, him on his back while you were treated to an ever-so-graceful faceplant. You were the first to react, lifting your head and spitting out a melting blob of snow before groaning at the cold stinging your cheeks and the thin press of the lights against your arms, which were pinned by his body.

You wrenched your arms free, ignoring the discomfort that flared against your bared skin. You were in some sweats and a t-shirt, having not expected to be getting some cardio this early in the day. "Are you okay?!" you cried out, scrambling to kneel next to him.

"'M fine," your boyfriend mumbled, eyes screwed shut. His eyebrows were drawn and he was still wrapped in those damn Christmas lights.

"Don't 'fine' me, you lunatic," you hissed, though it was out of fear, and a bit from the increasing dampness of your once toasty sweatpants. "This is the second time this month–!"

Cerulean eyes cracked open as Wild rallied his defense. "I said I was sorry about the kitchen incident–"

"And now the roof!" You cut him off, not finished with your scolding. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No," he mumbled, looking disturbingly similar to a puppy that had been denied a treat. You sighed, feeling your frustration ebb like receding waves, and focused on the lights binding his arms to his sides, yanking them off with as much gentleness as your frazzled mind could muster. Once he was free, Wild sat up, covered arms flexing. At least he was wearing his coat, you thought blithely. "...Sorry."

"Oh, Link," you huffed, opening your arms to him. He eagerly wrapped you in a hug, face buried in the curve of your neck and shoulder. You jumped at the sensation of his cold nose against your flesh. "You're freezing! How long were you even out there?"

There was a pause. A long, pregnant, guilty pause.

Completely done with his bullshit, you tangled your hand in his hair, gently tugging his face from your neck. "Link."

"...Yesss, princess?"

You were unmoved by the endearment, eyes narrowing. "How long were you up there?"

Wild gulped, and your heart sank when he got a bit shifty-eyed. "I lost track of time."

"...Link..."

"About two hours? Maybe?"

You were speechless. Until the weight of the situation crashed upon your mind and you realized that your reckless, loveable, idiotic boyfriend had been hanging from the roof like a damn pinata in thirty-degree weather for over two hours. Your mouth promptly took over as you clutched his cold, red ears in your palms. "Nope, nope. We are going inside. Now. You will take a bath and you will eat."

"Bath and eat," he repeated, accepting your hand when you stood, practically dragging him to his feet. You wrapped an arm around his mid-back, and Wild automatically draped his own arm around your shoulders, bodies pressed together as you made your way to the front door, which you had left open in your shock. "Sounds like a plan."

"It better," you mumbled, shooting him a lightly-disgruntled expression as your tired mind tried to figure out the best way to salvage the Christmas lights before your neighbors found another reason to report the two of you to the HOA. Again.

You were torn from your thoughts when he pressed a sweet peck to the chilled flesh of your cheek. You snapped your gaze to him, only to catch the tail end of a very sweet, very satisfied smile. "Thank you," Wild said sincerely, and your cheeks flushed for an entirely different reason. "For catching me."

It was easy to chew your bottom lip, stepping onto the creaking porch on unsteady legs. "Well, it's usually you doing the catching, so I figured I'd return the favor," your expression shifted to a grimace. "That, and the fact that I don't feel like having the HOA show up at our door again."

"Ugh, them," Wild rolled his eyes, though you were quick enough to catch the spark of familiar mischief flashing through the cerulean irises. "We could tell them I was trying to catch Santa on the roof and he was too quick for me?"

You stepped into the foyer, nudging the front door closed with your foot, and guffawed a laugh, still leaning against his side. "Right," you allowed yourself to respond. "Because that's totally more plausible than you trying to install the lights and– actually, how did you get stuck?"

"No comment," replied your boyfriend in a tone that was entirely too quick and even more guilty.

You raised an eyebrow, but accepted it as one of life's great mysteries. Sliding yourself from Wild's grasp, you made a b-line for the bathroom, calling over your shoulder as you ducked into the room: "I'll run you a bath," then, you paused, peeking your head back out to catch him removing his snow-caked boots. "How does soup sound? For lunch, I mean."

Wild hummed an affirmative, and you retracted your head, plugging the tub and turning the knob for hot water. A heavy shiver raced up your arm when you passed your palm through the resulting stream, and you became distinctly aware of just how damp your clothes were. "You know what? I think I'll join you," you mused, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Really?!" came the excited reponse. The sound of clothes being removed quickened.

"Not like that, mister," you chuckled, biting the inside of your cheek lightly when eager footsteps approached. The tub was nearly half full, but it didn't stop Wild from hopping in as soon as he arrived, though not without a tender peck to your forehead. He leaned against the wall of the tub, sighing in relief. The corners of your lips twitched up when he made grabby hands, your own hands pulling the soaked clothes from your body. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

"Not yet you aren't," Wild's grin was devious, but he made no move to do anything but wrap his arms around your waist when you slipped into his lap, your back to his chilled chest. You leaned your head against his shoulder, turning it slightly to bury your face in the cradle of his neck. "Comfy?"

"Very," you mumbled, using your foot to shut off the water when it reached the middle of your chest. Everything was so warm and perfect that you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, threatening to close with each moment you spent pressed against the man you loved. Wild's hands busied themselves on your belly, tracing gentle patterns across the soft flesh, occasionally dipping to graze your hips or thighs in a featherlight, intimate caress. Time seemed to slow, and you let yourself slacken further. Until his fingers began tracing a different pattern on the skin of your right thigh, incorporating gentle, rhythmic taps into the movement. "Link," your gaze flicked to him, noting his face's decidedly focused expression. "What are you doing?"

Wild glanced at you. His lips quirked in a grin. "Playing the piano."

Your bafflement couldn't have been better represented: "What."

"See, I start like this–" four fingers pressed themselves against the top of your thigh, and you hazily remembered encouraging him to accept your elderly neighbor's offer of lessons a while back. Fuck, was that why he had suddenly gotten ten times better at– "–and then it's just whatever song--"

"–Chopsticks, please–"

Wild choked on a chortle, already beginning to drum out a rhythm that you recognized despite there being no sound. "Perfect as always, sweetheart," he snickered, fingers never once pausing. To your horror, the desire to hum along bubbled in your throat.

"Is this your attempt at serenading me?" you asked cheekily in an attempt to distract yourself from the terror that was encouraging him.

Ever the charmer, your boyfriend was quick to respond: "Is it working?"

"What do you think?" you chuckled. The song changed, and you recognized the energetic beat as We Will Rock You by the newly-discovered band Queen. Dork.

Wild feigned confusion. "Dunno, maybe I should sing..."

"Absolutely not," you snorted, turning away. He pressed his face to the top of your head, and you could feel his smile.

"Why not? I'll sing that one song you're always listening to," he paused, brows scrunching in an attempt to recall the name of said song. Dread filled you when his lips quirked up in a shit-eating grin. "'Daddy Cop', right? From that show that's always in Youtube Shorts."

You had the inexplicable urge to drown yourself. "Oh my god, I told you to stop watching those," you groaned, wrestling with the horror that was your boyfriend watching YouTube shorts unironically. "Link, please–"

"Is that a baton in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"I'm divorcing–"

Skipping no less than six stanzas, Wild continued to belt out a reminder of your sin, the water sloshing from the force of his chortles. "Arrest me, but make it sexy!"

Scratch that, you were going to drown him, beautiful blue eyes and all.

"–sell me some meth, please!"

You tried to clap a hand over his mouth; the key word being 'tried', as Wild was more than strong enough to pull you back against his chest, holding you in place while he sang what had to be the worst song known to man.

"So I can get arrested by this mommy of a cop–!"

"Goddesses above, stop!" you wailed, struggling against the heavy arm keeping you pinned to his body, flailing weakly as hysteria took the wheel. In a desperate bid for salvation, you uttered the forbidden words: "I'll do anything!"

Full stop.

"...Anything?"

Your eyes widened and the situation suddenly felt all the more dire. "Um, well," you tried to backpedal. "Within reason, obviously, because I really don't want a repeat of last time–"

"Does that include kissing me?"

As if he even needed to ask. You turned, staring him in the eyes with a look that was both dead and alive as you quoted the infamous work.

"Make it sexy."

Wild's eyes sparkled. "Gladly."

I know this isn't the most holiday-oriented, but I thought it was hilarious so enjoy <333

For anyone interested in the infamous song, feast.

[whatwooshkai]

number one for the new smoke and mirrors ask!!

"Designation, track, year?"

"Blades, Support Track, first year."

"Really? Support Track? A flier like you?"

"...So?"

"You got a creator or a friend high up? Someone with some strings to pull, right?"

"What? No, I-"

"Whatever, keep your secrets. Besides, you're holding up the line now. Get in front of the camera and smile."

----------------------

"Designation, track, year?"

"Heatwave. Firetruck. First year."

"Okay, firefighting. Firefighting is the track. But you're Kaonite, so I can't be surprised."

"The fuck's that supposed to mean-"

"Are you here on scholarship? I doubt your test scores are the top stuff, I'm thinking you're good in the field? But you're kind of a shrimp-"

"You tryna start something you-?!"

"Woah, cool down, tiger! No need to reinforce the stereotypes. Now, you're holding up the line. Get in front of the camera and smile."

----------------------

"Designation, track, year?"

"Boulder, Engineering, first year."

"Sheesh, what an accent. I can barely understand you."

"Sorry, I-"

"No worries, they'll outfit you with a Universal Translator soon enough. They do it all the time for Tarnish students- or they would, if we ever had any."

"Oh. Um-"

"Better to keep that mouth of yours shut until they do. Keep to yourself, it's better that way. Now get in front of the camera and smile, you're holding up the line."

----------------------

"Designation, track, year?"

"Chase. Enforcer-adjacent, first year."

"Enforcer-adjacent, more like Enforcer-reject. So what did you do to get yourself kicked out? Took a bribe? Too trigger happy?"

"That is hardly appropriate-"

"Eh, doesn't matter right now. It always comes out, one way or another. Give me a hint, let me make a bet?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Alright, alright, I get it. But my bet is... you got into something you shouldn't have. You have that look about you."

"I-"

"Alright, move along. You're holding up the line! Hardly appropriate, you say. Now get in front of that camera and smile."

[hootshooch]

Age Headcanons

I want to share my HCs for all the companion's ages (both so I can reference this later and because it's just fun). Aside from the canon numbers we have, these are just my personal opinions! But If I've gotten any canon information wrong please correct me and I'll edit it :-)

Astarion: 339 (physically 139)

Gale: 36

Halsin: 350

Jaheria: 155

Karlach: 27

Lae'zel: 22

Minsc: 149 (physically 65)

Shadowheart: 48

Wyll: 24

(I'm not including Minthara because Wyll and my Durge killed her in two turns using Hold Person and Searing Smite in my current playthrough so I have never recruited her before nor know much about her character so I can't make an educated guess about her age. Sorry.)

Explanations under the cut!

Astarion

Gale

I think his gravestone (the dates that say he was 39 when he died) is total BS and was just a mistake left in from when Astarion's race wasn't decided on during development (I know he was a tiefling at one point).

Idle Champions seems to confirm this because his age is listed as 350 on his card (meaning he was approximately 150 when he died). BUT, since Halsin also says he is 350 years old, I think it would be incredibly unlikely and sort of weird if two of the three recruitable Elves were the exact same age, so I rounded down so his age does align more with his in-game gravestone. However, unless someone made another mistake, 350 is (probably) his canon age.

Apparently there's conflicting information about what his age is listed as on Idle Champions too. Maybe it changed or something? I don't know. Regardless it makes the most sense to me if he's over 300 years old.

I know this might be an unpopular opinion but I actually do not believe that Mystra groomed Gale (though I think she IS abusive to all her Chosen, Gale included–but that is NOT what "grooming" means. Not in the way people are using the term. She just took advantage of him). Gale said she first appeared to him when he was a "young man" and Mystra was dead up until 1479 DR. It's very unlikely she went straight for Gale the moment she gained consciousness and Gale is visibly greying by the time you meet him (and I know some people theorize that it's just the netherese orb aging him from the stress, but I personally don't think that's what is happening). I think at MINIMUM he was 22 when Mystra first appeared to him and is in his mid-thirties now.

Halsin

He explicitly tells the player he's 350. As far as I'm aware he's actually the ONLY companion who ever gives an actual number for his age in the game, too.

Jaheira

She says she was a "young child" during the Ten Black Days of Elient in Tethyr (1347 DR) and I think it's safe to assume that "young" probably means anywhere from 10 years old to a baby. BUT she also says in the first Baldur's Gate game (set in 1368 DR), Jaheira says that she and Khalid have been married for 8 years and together for 10. I really don't think that the two of them got married as teenage harpers (at least I hope not), but it DOES seem like Jaheira got married young and was never really with anyone else before or after him (I do not consider Jaheira's romance with Gorion's Ward in BG2 to be canon, sorry). So that means she's was probably in her early 30s during the first two games. I just decided on 155 (making her 31-32 in the first two games) since that makes Jaheira only 20 years older than my Dark Urge (Alias, 135 years old) and it's infintely funnier when she makes fun of her for being old because they're both practically the same age.

Karlach

I know most people place her in her early 30s, but I honestly think she was younger when Gortash sent her off to Avernus. The age of majority in most of the Sword Coast is 16 and Karlach specifically refers to herself as "a kid" when she was working for Gortash. She was also still living with her parents at the time and says that she was working to make enough money to move them to the Lower City—and to me the way she says that doesn't seem like she was trying to give back to her parents as an adult but she was still actually a teenager who NEEDED to work because her parents didn't make enough money. I absolutely do not think Gortash is above hiring a poor teenager from a lower class district to be a bodyguard before selling her into compulsory enlistment. In fact that's exactly the kind of thing he'd do. I personally think she started working for him when she was around 16 and stayed there for a few years max before Gortash screwed her over (being in Avernus for a decade), so she's in her late 20s now. I like the idea of her being closer in age to Wyll so I just HC that her birthday is late in the year and "10 years" is more of a rough estimate of how long she was there rather than an exact timeframe (how was she keeping track of time in Avernus, anyway? did time even go by at the same rate in a different plane of existence?)

Lae'zel

She says that she's never been to the Astral before the game begins and she was trying to obtain a mindflayer head so she would be allowed to do so (which I think is a social coming-of-age for githyanki, based on how she talks about it). She's definitely the youngest. Her Idle Champions card says she's 22 and that seems right to me so that's the age I put.

Minsc

We know he was petrified in Baldur's Gate in 1409 DR, but beyond that, his timeline is kind of weird. In the first Baldur's Gate game he was on his dajemma (Rashemaar coming-of-age journey) with Dynaheir. Fyodor first went on his dajemma when he was fifteen and didn't return to Rashemen until he was nineteen. Minsc believes his dajemma was never truly complete because of Dynaheir's death (despite the Iron Lord saying otherwise), so I he must have been YOUNG before during the first two games (despite being bald and appearing older in his original portrait). Considering he was undergoing a coming-of-age ritual, he can't have been any older than 25 in the first two games (and that's only if he was adventuring an especially long time, but that seems to be the case). So he's about a century and a half in BG3, give or take, and physically in his mid-sixties (around the time he was petrified).

Shadowheart

I've seen a surprising amount of people mislabel Shadowheart as 40, but she says (in ambient dialogue) that Viconia was recording information about her INSIDE the cloister for 40 years of her life and in the flashback where she is kidnapped she looked around the same age as Arabella (who tells who she is nine and a half if you're evil enough to let Kagha kill her and use Speak with Dead on her). So she's actually closer to 50. Her Idle Champions card says she's 48 specifically so that's the age that I've gone with because that lines up with everything that we know.

Wyll

In the game, he says he was 17 when his father kicked him out and he was in "exile" for 7 years, so that places him at 24. His Idle Champions card says this, too. (fun fact: this also means he was 14 when Murder in Baldur's Gate takes place and Gorion's Ward dies).

[crazywolf828]

Hey there friends

I wanted to hold off making any donation posts until I knew how much it would cost but the situation got a lot more dire.

Mom's had a heart attack, my grandpa died, and my uncles are coming after our house.

My grandfather died just before Christmas, it was a shock to all of us as he seemed to be doing fine. His final wishes were to be cremated and spread over the beaches with my grandma, everyone has known this, but because he didn't write a will before getting sick with Alzheimer's and dementia all of his children have to agree on what to do with his body. If they don't he gets turned over to the state and disposed of, and we never get him back.

Yesterday my mom had a mild heart attack, she's still in the hospital now (though she seems to be doing better) because we found out my uncles are refusing to cooperate. I'll explain the full story under the cut but they haven't been around for over twelve years and are now coming after our house.

The funeral is at minimum going to be 4k not including any lawyers we need to get to get control of his body and fight my uncles. If you can spare anything at all, please I'm begging more now than ever before, donate if you can or just reblog.

Thank you all, so much, for everything you do and have done.

My uncles have never been around, the last time was after a settlement from my grandmothers wrongful death where they took almost all the money. We got enough to buy our current house and that was it. My mom and grandpa specifically put on the deed that they both owned it so my uncles couldn't steal it once my grandpa passed away.

Well, we found out it is considered an asset, until we are able to get a death certificate to get his name off the house and give my mom full ownership, my uncles can technically try and get a part of his assets (even though we have no other money).

We haven't seen them in 15 years. They weren't around when we had to take care of my grandpa after his surgery in 2016 and his decline in mental health after. We couldn't afford to put him in a home so we did what we could.

They weren't there during the outbursts and anger of my grandpa not knowing who we were, having to give him baths, change his diapers, taking him to the hospital, making sure his food was soft enough he could eat it. But now they think there's money on the line and they want to bleed us dry when all we have is our house.

We were told all of this yesterday at the funeral home, told that if we don't go to court or they don't all agree on what to do with his body then he gets turned over to the state and disposed of. We would never get him back.

The stress caused my mom to have a minor heart attack, she was transferred to a bigger hospital and is currently having a cath test done because she already has an autoimmune disease.

I can't do much else to help other than come on here and ask for help, I have so many of my own illnesses that prevent me from working and the government is giving me a tough time trying to get on disability.

It's a lot and I'm just so lost and I'm sorry to ask again, I'm sorry to make another donation post, but please, we need this so much, every bit helps.

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

38. feeling feelings (written)

prev // m.list // next

As cliché as it sounds, before meeting you, Yeonjun never actually thought about the consequences of his actions. After the incident with Minho, he only cares about having a good time and surrounding himself with pleasure and excitement so he could drown his pain. At some point, he actually stopped feeling hurt and started enjoying the parties, the drinks, and the girls. All the attention and praise he got made him feel part of everyone else, as if he was no longer an outsider. However, at the same time, all of that made him seem unreachable for most people. It was perfect; he got to enjoy the mundanity of it all while protecting himself from yet another heartbreak. But then it wasn't...

Meeting you is the best thing that could have happened to him. Yes, you were broken, but you both have been trying to build each other back up and make something real out of it. He's happy. When he's with you he forgets the past, and then it reaches him and makes him doubt. His insecurities drag him down and scream at him how he's not enough. He wasn't enough back then and he's even worse now.

"Wanna talk about it?" You ask while running your fingers through his hair, something you just learned helps him relax.

"I have to." His voice is merely above a whisper but is enough to make you shiver. Sure, you've cuddled and shared a bed before, but he's never exactly been this close to you. Every breath he takes tickles your neck and makes you want to have him even closer.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want."

"I do want to tell you but for now let me stay like this a little longer." He feels so small and yet so safe. Has he ever been held like this? Maybe his bar is also on the floor.

"Whatever you need."

He wakes up in the middle of the night without being able to remember when he fell asleep. Your arms are still around him and you're still playing with his hair.

"Why are you still awake?"

"I'm not tired, it's not even midnight." He can hear the smile. "Had a good nap?"

"Absolutely, you're the best pillow ever." He wraps his arms around your waist and brings your bodies closer.

"Charming as ever, I see."

You stay like that for a little while, just bathing in each other's presence and warmth. He's scared to even breathe too loud and bursting this bubble of peace and comfort. He has to, though.

"I'm sorry," he starts and before you can protest he continues. "I know you think I don't have to apologize but I need to. You've been going through some messed up shit because of me and you don't deserve to. And maybe you didn't want to make me feel bad or whatever but you should've told me.

I'm not mad, though. If anything I just feel grateful that you thought about me even in that overwhelming situation. But this also made me realize how much more you deserve. I can't change my past and I can't promise you people are just gonna leave us alone, they have the right to feel whatever they're feeling after all.

What I can promise is that I'll do everything in my power to make you feel confident in this relationship. You have nothing to worry about. I'll try even harder."

"Yeon-"

"Please, let me finish. I'll make us work. But, if you have already decided this is too much and you don't wanna go through the hassle I also understand that. You didn't sign up for this kind of harassment after all. I'll stay away if that's what you want. I'll even give you space to think about it."

He sounds so defeated. He told you he had issues, you just didn't realize how deep his insecurities run.

"There's nothing to think about," your voice remains calm. "I want to be with you. It's not a hassle and you're not too much. I'll be happy to walk with you and make this work."

He doesn't say anything, he just buries his face in the crook of your neck and holds you even tighter. He even sheds some tears but you don't notice, and if you do you don't comment on it. Is this what love feels like?

notes:

I love them so much

beomgyu adores yn because she makes yeonjun happy but he's never saying that out loud

taglist: (30/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano

[peskyautumn]

Not to be a traffic shipper on main BUUUUTTTTTTTT

I. Love. Solidwood.

... Yes I know what that sounds like

I mean I love Jimmy Solidarity x Martyn Littlewood, not di-

Anyway comedic start to this post aside, I've actually shipped it since the EVO days so... Uhh *Shuffles Papers* At least 2017, yeah I've been a fan of this ship for 7 years

Back in 2017 is because they were homoerotic border lined married officers of the law (Acab I'm sorry Jimmy and Martyn) I mean they bought matching vacation homes, and while it is a little bit of Toxic Yaoi (We love Toxic Yaoi here) it also is genuine, Martyn and Jimmy care deeply for each other, even when they hop to a new world they stick together, despite disbanding the Property Police. They have each other's back and have undying loyalty to each other and it's fucking gay tbh like helllooooooooooooo

No body matches their freak like each other

BUT rant about EVO aside, i have some... Headcanons/concepts for The Life Series (I've never seen the life series,,,) so if it's conflicting with stuff I apologize but I do try to work with what I know

One other thing of note is I'm really really into The Listener Jimmy headcanon and one of additional headcanons related to that is Jimmy being a blue canary prior to becoming a Listener, his feathers changing to yellow when he becomes one

NOW the reason I made this post. My Solidwood (I'm gonna keep calling it that) Listener!Jimmy and Martyn headcanon I wanted to ramble about

Again prior to the Life Series, during EVO Jimmy is a normal blue Canary, there was nothing irregular about him, that is how Martyn remembers him

But the next time he sees Jimmy, during Third Life, there's something different about him, his bright sky blue feathers are replaced by almost blinding yellow ones. His wingspan has grown to be larger then it was prior, Jimmy's ears (? Feather things) are always twitching, Jimmy seems more hyper aware of the things around him, like he can hear something, like he's being watched.

And something about how Jimmy's face sometimes doesn't seem right, there's a level of uncannyness about how perfect it is, how angelic his voice has become, Martyn loved everything about Jimmy prior, his imperfections being perfect to him and while he doesn't love him any less, the Jimmy he remembers is gone, it nags at him, especially when in the wrong angle, his eyes are a sharp yellow, or how his face figures shift into something he can't make a single detail on.

And it isn't just Martyn, he's noticed how tension enters both Jimmy and Grian the first few times they cross pathes, silent stares like they're studying eachother, waiting for the other to do something. It weirdly enough changes though, a few loops in, becoming a mutual understanding, mutual pity for the other. BigB and Pearl also seem tense around Jimmy, though it's more one sided, like they know something, understanding far deeper then Jimmy does himself.

Martyn still loves Jimmy, he can't bring himself to not, he loves his touch, his laughter, smile and the quiet words they exchange with each other deep into the night. But it's not the same, it's not the Timmy he knew, even if Jimmy doesn't outwardly act any different, there's just things he can't hide. Martyn has in a lot of ways, tried to learn to accept it, to accept him, even if he's not exactly the same man he use to know...

But sometimes, just rare enough that he's never vocalized it, Martyn will look at him right, his breath will hitch and his heart will still....

Because in the right light, Jimmy looks like that Blue Carney Martyn fell in love with all those years ago.