#like she doesn't forgive him and he sucks but she's the only one who he actually gets along with/who gives him the time of day

[irregularbillcipher]

i'm so sick of people who use the fact that mabel is very much like bill (yes, true!) and that bill even likes mabel (again, yes, true!) and understands her in some ways (again yes!!! true!!!!!!!!!! what was the bubble but a party that never ends with a host that never dies?) and then twist it to fuel their mabel hate. like for one, every pines family member has some deep commonalities with bill because he's an effective villain and plays off the heroes of the story so well! but ALSO because it completely disregards how their core philosophies about the world and people around them differ and it bums me out

i have said this before, exactly like this, and i will say it again. the main difference between bill and mabel is that bill finds the universe and the people in it constricting and dull and frustrating while mabel sees the beauty in dull people and things and sees them as full of potential. bill sees something boring, he destroys it, mabel sees something boring, she gets out her glitter glue. mabel is so filled to the brim with love and affection for others and such a wild desire to make everyone, including herself, happy at all times, and bill is trying so hard to be happy that he deliberately hurts people, ruins his own life, ruins the lives of everyone around him and then doesn't understand why he's so miserable. like these two are fascinating because they are both remarkably similar and WILDLY different and, most importantly, they are interesting to look at as foils because mabel is a good person

[favefandomimagines]

loml (r.c)

SEASON 4 PART 2 SPOILERS!!!!

Request: @motherlanaenthusiast “So what if we do a Rafe x Maybank!reader where like maybe she was in morocco but she wasn’t with JJ when he died cuz she was doing smthn else so like they all have to break the news and that happens and then when like after when they’re back at Kildare Rafe like gets deja vu from s1&2 him because he sees reader going kinda crazy”

Summary: Rafe is the only person to save Y/N from a downward spiral.

AN: I will NEVER forgive the writers for this lol I went on a tangent with this one

The sun was blistering and casting a golden hue over the winding alleyways in Morocco. Rafe Cameron and Y/N Maybank moved through the maze of alleyways, their steps quick and purposeful, yet filled with a tension that spoke of something much deeper than their immediate surroundings.

Y/N was JJ Maybank’s twin sister, a spitfire with a wild heart who had once been the center of Rafe’s secret world. The two had shared a tumultuous fling, a secret affair that had started four years ago under the cover of darkness and ended just as abruptly. It was a relationship neither had ever fully acknowledged. Rafe was a Kook, while Y/N, like her brother JJ, was a Pogue, tale as old as time.

The shop was quiet, the group off to Charleston to follow the next clue. Y/N stayed behind to wait for her brother after he had wandered off “running errands.” The bell above the door jingled, and the soft sound broke through the silence.

Y/N was leaning against the counter, staring at her phone screen, scrolling through all the unread text messages to her brother.

"How can I help you?" she asked absently, not looking up from her phone.

She looked up and her breath got caught in her throat, the smile on Rafe Cameron's face grating against the air. He stood at the entrance, hands tucked casually in his pockets, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone even, though the familiar tension in her chest began to build. She’d never been able to shake the feeling of unease around him. Not since everything went down with Pope, the fight that ended whatever it was they had.

"Can't I just stop by and visit my local surf and bait shop?" Rafe said, taking a step inside, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You looking for Sarah?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, yeah. I'm looking for Sarah."

She shook her head, setting the phone down with a soft click. "She doesn’t want to talk to you."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the smirk still in place. "I think I can have a chat with my sister whenever I want."

"Not if she doesn't want to talk to you." Her words were firm, but there was a slight quiver in her voice that betrayed her more complicated feelings.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter as he took a few more steps forward, closing the distance between them. He placed his elbows on the counter, leaning in closer, the sudden proximity catching her off guard.

"I'm sorry about the drama at the beach the other day," he said, his voice lowering in an almost sincere tone. "With Ruthie and the turtles."

She didn’t respond right away, trying to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the weight of his words, but it didn’t change anything. Rafe was sorry—sorry for the mess he had created, maybe, but never for the things that had truly mattered.

"Don’t act like you care, Rafe," she replied, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "You only care about how things affect you. And I guess now Sofia."

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze growing intense. The years of tension between them seemed to hang in the air, unresolved and unspoken. Then he said, his tone soft but firm, "We used to be so close, Y/N. What happened?"

She sucked in a breath, trying to push down the anger, the hurt, the past. "The drugs happened," she said slowly, her voice low. "Ward happened. Your anger happened."

His eyes darkened for a second, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it just as quickly. After a long, weighted silence, he took a half step back, his expression softening, just a little.

"I’m on your side, you know," he said quietly, the words almost a whisper, as though they were too important to rush. "I always have been."

The words hung between them, charged and heavy with meaning. She didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known what to say to Rafe since the day he’d walked away, leaving everything torn apart in his wake.

Before she could respond, Rafe straightened, brushing his hand across his forehead as if clearing his thoughts. He turned toward the door, his back to her now. "I’ll be seeing you around," he muttered over his shoulder, the door swinging open as he left without another word.

Now, as they weaved through the ancient Moroccan city, they were older, scarred by the years of treasure hunts, betrayals, and broken friendships.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Y/N said, stopping suddenly, her dark eyes scanning the shadowed alleyways. She had always been the one with the sixth sense, the one who could feel trouble like a storm on the horizon.

Rafe turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

But before she could answer, they heard Kiara’s voice, shrill and desperate, cutting through the noise of the bustling market.

“Y/N! John B! Pope!”

Y/N’s heart seized in her chest, and without another word, she took off in the direction of Kiara's cries, Rafe hot on her heels. They rounded a corner and found Kiara kneeling on the cobblestones, her face pale and streaked with tears. And lying there, motionless, was JJ.

“No, no, no,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees beside her brother. Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch JJ’s face, his skin already growing cold under her fingertips.

“JJ, please,” she begged, her voice cracking, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t leave me. You promised.” She cried.

But there was no response, no flicker of life in those familiar blue eyes. It felt like the world had been ripped out from under her, like the ground had opened up to swallow her whole. Rafe stood behind her, his face pale, his fists clenched at his sides.

The group stood stunned, no one wanting to be the one to move. But they were in a busy, bustling city with a dead body. People would ask questions. “W-We have to get him out of here.” John B stammered. He moved to reach for Y/N, attempting to pry her off of her brother’s body.

Y/N fought against him, muttering things like ‘I’m not leaving him’ or ‘he can’t be alone.’ Rafe takes over for John B and has to use his strength to pull her up to her feet. He held her in his arms, close to his chest to avoid having to see her two best friends moving her brother.

At that moment, all he could really do was hold her.

||

Months had passed since that horrible day in Morocco, but for Y/N, time had ceased to exist. She was back in Kildare, but it was as if she was still stuck in that dark alleyway, kneeling beside her brother’s lifeless body.

Sarah Cameron was heavily pregnant, as she prepared for the birth of her first child with John B. It was supposed to be a time of joy and new beginnings, but the shadow of JJ’s death loomed over them all.

Y/N had fallen into a downward spiral, her grief consuming her. She drank herself into oblivion every night, stumbling through the streets of Kildare like a ghost. She would disappear for days, only to be found passed out on the beach or in the hammock outside her house. The Pogues tried to help her, but she pushed them all away, lost in her own pain.

Sarah had told Rafe about Y/N, how she was drowning in guilt for not being there when JJ had died. The words had hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own spiral years ago, before his father had dragged him into the hunt for the Royal Merchant’s gold.

He couldn’t let that happen to Y/N. He wouldn’t. He loved her even if he couldn’t admit it.

So he found himself standing on the porch of the Maybank house, staring at the peeling paint on the front door. John B’s van was parked out front, and Rafe assumed he was there trying to talk some sense into Y/N.

A part of him thought ‘oh John B is here, I can come back later.’ But he couldn’t walk away, not this time.He’s walked away from her too many times.

He knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness of the early afternoon. John B opened the door, his face drawn and tired. “Sarah’s not here.” He told Rafe. “I’m not here for Sarah. I’m here for Y/N.” Rafe answered.

“She’s not doing well, man,” John B said, his voice low. “We don’t know what else to do. I think... I think she feels guilty for not being with JJ when it happened.”

Rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “Let me talk to her.”

John B hesitated but finally stepped aside, letting Rafe through. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that had always surrounded JJ.

Rafe walked down the hall to Y/N’s bedroom, the same room he used to sneak into all those years ago. All of the memories came flooding back as he stopped in front of the door. Nights that ended tangled up in her sheets. Other nights where she just wanted to be held after a fight with her dad.

Rafe pushed the door open to find her cocooned under the comforter, a bottle of vodka sitting on her nightstand.

“JB, please go away,” she mumbled, her voice raw and hoarse. Rafe assumed from a mixture of alcohol and crying.

“Not John B,” Rafe said softly.

Y/N stiffened, slowly emerging from under the covers, moving to sit up against her headboard. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like a shadow of the girl he once knew.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I’m worried about you,” Rafe said, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Apparently everyone is,” she muttered, her eyes flicking away from him.

There was a heavy silence, the kind that was filled with all the things they had left unsaid for so many years. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

“Y/N... I know what it’s like to lose yourself,” he began, his voice steady. “I know what it’s like to drown. I was there once, you know that. Hell, I’m still trying to crawl my way out.”

She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. “He was always afraid to be alone, and I left him alone,” she choked out. “I should have been there. I should have protected him.”

Rafe’s heart broke at the raw pain in her voice. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Y/N. JJ wouldn’t want that.”

“How would you know?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You never cared about him. About me.”

The words were like a slap in the face, but Rafe took it, knowing she was lashing out from a place of deep hurt. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I didn’t care about JJ, and I pushed everyone away. But I always cared about you. And I don’t want to lose you to this, Y/N. I can’t.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Rafe.” Y/N muttered. “No but you’re the person I love.” Rafe replied. “You can’t say things like that.” She practically snapped. “Why not? You used to beg me to tell you how I felt and I finally am. I’m sorry it came so late and it’s happening because of this but I’ll be damned if another person I love gets hurt because I didn’t do anything to stop it.” Rafe told her.

She stared at him, the anger draining from her eyes, leaving only exhaustion. “I don’t know how to come back from this,” she whispered.

“Let me help you,” Rafe said, his voice breaking. “Please. Let me be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

There was a long pause, and then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded. It was a small gesture, but it was enough.

“I’ll try,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll try to get better.”

“And I’ll be here,” Rafe promised, reaching out to take her hand. “Through it all. I’m not going anywhere.”

||

A year had passed since that day in Morocco. The sun was shining over the Outer Banks, the salty breeze carrying the sound of laughter and the distant crash of waves. The Pogues had gathered for a special occasion, a day of celebration and new beginnings.

Sarah and John B’s son, Jackson, was turning one today, and they were throwing a beach party in his honor. Y/N stood on the edge of the gathering, watching as Sarah bounced her son on her hip, his tiny hands reaching for the birthday cake.

Y/N was sober, clear-eyed, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again. She had fought her way out of the darkness with Rafe by her side, and though the pain of losing her brother would never fully fade, she was learning to live with it.

Rafe approached her, a soft smile on his lips. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, turning to look at him. “Yeah, I think I am.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

She leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the lingering shadows. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

Rafe smiled down at her before she moved up on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, Rafe.” She spoke quietly. “I love you too.” He replied.

They stood there together, watching as their friends celebrated a new chapter of their lives, a chapter filled with hope and healing.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N believed that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

[velvetvexations]

Antigonism

ANTIGONE: I'll do my duty to my brother - and yours as well, if you're not prepared to. I won't be caught betraying him.

What is antigonism?

Antigonism is a transfeminist mode of thought specifically for transfems that embrace solidarity with other trans people, as well as those who are intersex and the queer community in general, under the belief that it's vital to recognize we're all equally oppressed and capable of doing lateral harm to one another

Beliefs of antigonistic transfems include but are not limited to:

accepting that transandrophobia exists

being mindful of exorsexism

not policing the terms that intersex people use for themselves

awareness that other AMAB people can present as feminine without being some kinna insult to us

recognizing that racial hegemony and the cishetpatriarchy are radically different systems of oppression and any comparison between the two, while possible, must be made with exceptional care

rejecting the "reclamation" of radical feminism

finding it appalling to demand that other trans people define themselves as privileged for not experiencing the same things as us - especially when they do in fact experience much of what is commonly, inexplicably cited as unique to transfems.

Isn't that just trans unity?

Trans unity is also great! But I feel like transfems who explicitly reject trans radical feminism could do with a word that is more forceful and specific. Some would prefer that this just be considered the default, and the vocal minority of people who think transfems are oppressed by other trans people should simply be treated as weirdos out of step with the rest of us, but I think there's value in making a strong statement with a term like this.

I've seen a lot of people who legitimately feel like shit because the vocal minority has been so loudly terrible that it's affecting how comfortable they are with random transfems whose opinions they don't know. I understand the temptation to just say they need to touch grass or whatever, but even aside from the fact that things like anti-transmasculinity within the community isn't purely limited to discourse on a dying social media website, I feel like that's blaming them for their reaction to being treated cruelly. I think antigonism could help drill in that there are tons of transfems who back them up, and that they don't need to search for keywords to know that person is safe.

Because, like, that happens to me, too. So many times I've seen a post I really liked and thought was insightful, only to have my distrustful nature lead me to doing such a search before reblogging and being gravely disappointed with the results. That fucking sucks, yall.

Why "antigonism"?

In the legends of Ancient Greece, Oedipus had two sons. One of them, Polynices, would eventually go on to wage war upon his brother, Eteocles, the king of Thebes. There were many telling of the story, some in which Polynices had a very good reason for doing so and some where he didn't.

Polynices and Eteocles both killed each other in the war, but Creon, who took power after, unilaterally declared that Polynices was a traitor. Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, however, simply does not give a fuck what Polynices did or did not do. When Creon orders that any who try to bury Polynices will be put to death, she proudly does so anyway.

The most famous teller of Oedipus's family history, Sophocles, wrote a play about the war, but it's lost to time and so we know nothing definite about what version of events is canon to Sophocles' play starring the titular Antigone. Considering that the whole point of Creon's character is his dogmatic clinging to law over sense, his assessment of Polynices as being in the wrong for going against authority doesn't clear things up.

I emphasize this because I don't want to seem like I'm framing other trans people - transmascs especially - as requiring forgiveness for some vague past sin. Quite the opposite, just as they treat us as their sisters in spite of that minority of transfems who are awful to them, we must recognize that they're often the first to shut down transmisogynists amongst themselves. Ultimately the point of Antigone's actions in defying the law to honor her brother is that things like that are entirely irrelevant. The fact that the person accusing Polynices of being evil is a jackass, and we know there were versions of the story where Eteocles had it coming, is even more reason to look past his "crime."

ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: I had forbidden it. ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: Polynices was a rebel and a traitor, and you know it. ANTIGONE: He was my brother.

Does that mean we should not call out other trans people who are transmisogynistic or otherwise treat trans women badly? Of course not. But we have no more right to abandon or spit on them than they do us, which so many of them refuse to do in spite of the hostility they've often faced. To be an antigonist is to believe that we can do no less for those who do so much for us, and the creation of the term is intended not to spur more to do that so much as to give a name to those who've already been doing that.

Finally, I understand that the plot of Antigone revolving around Polynice's burial might feel grim. Critically, however, Antigone ultimately dies as well.

ISMENE: I must yield to those in authority. I think it is dangerous business to be always meddling. ANTIGONE: You have made your choice, you can be what you want to be. But I will bury him, and if I must die, I say that this crime is holy. I shall lie down with him in death, and I shall be as dear to him as he to me.

We are oppressed by the same forces. We are allies in the same fight. We are friends, lovers, and family. An antigonist is a transfem who believes that all trans people will live together and die together. We are committed to sharing the same fate with our siblings, one way or another. Antigonists see us all as bound together, headed for the same destination, and we would not for a second ever want it to be otherwise no matter where that road leads.

One more thing!

Even if this terminology doesn't catch on, I hope this effort means something to anyone who sees this. <3 Your sisters do love you, I promise.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sin, sin, sin.

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, catholic church setting, confessional, rafe kind of pretending to be a priest (itll make sense quickly), religious trauma, if youre religious and easily offended probably skip this one

rafe knows little about his mother, but the one thing he does know is that she was a devout catholic. maybe it's stories ward told him, or the fact that his strongest memory of her was her funeral, held in the same catholic church he's currently pushing the grand wooden doors to enter.

it's his last chance as he looks into the candlelit hall. to turn around and go back into the darkness of the night, let the inky blackness swallow him whole.

rafe feels a pang in his chest. good old catholic guilt his mother passed down to him. rafe lets out a curse before he steps foot into the church, wishing he got his father's fake christianity instead, going to church on holidays and only using the religion when it suits you.

rafe looks away from the altar, the cross hanging above it, and to the confession booth to the side of the pews. his feet carry them there with the false confidence he's always been able to paste on as a front.

rafe looks at the door and then swallows thickly. guilt, guilt, guilt. he's not sure anything could help, yet he opens the handle and steps inside.

the creaky door slams shut behind him as rafe sits and faces forward towards the screen, just opaque enough to make out a figure on the other side in the low light.

rafe realizes then that he doesn't know the words. 

“forgive me father, for i have sinned.” a voice from the other side suddenly rings out, a soft, feminine voice. rafe suddenly is aware of his mistake. “it has been two days since my last confession.”

rafe knows he should interrupt you, stop you from continuing on, but something in him stirs him to stay, his interest peaking.

“ive slept with another man. i know you're tired of hearing it, father. i just can't help myself. i can't seem to wait, it's like something takes over me. father, i feel as if i am possessed by some sexual demon.” 

you scoff and rafe can see your body crumple on the other side, becoming an even smaller shape.

“tell me what happened.” rafe says.

“i-i had a date. a nice catholic man, or at least who i thought was a nice catholic man. he took me to dinner, and then i thanked him by getting on my knees immediately after.”

“keep going…” there's something about your voice that stirs rafe, has his hand gravitating to his crotch, there's a sexual prowess in your voice mixed with the guilt and innocence, like you're describing the deeds of some other woman entirely.

“he didn't even initiate it. i did. i pulled him into my apartment when he was dropping me back home. can you believe that? he was being a gentleman bringing me back to my doorstep and i just had to be a total hussy.”

rafe presses his hand down against his growing cock, imagining himself as that so called catholic gentleman.

“i unzipped his pants and tugged them down. he wasn't even hard. i played with him over his underwear, kissed his length and sucked on it and everything.”

rafes hands follow your description as he leans back against the wooden wall, tugging down his zipper and closing his eyes to picture it even better, some anonymous bold woman.

“i then pulled his underwear down. right there in the front hallway. when i saw him… i knew i was going to sleep with him next.”

you pause for long enough that rafe realizes he needs to speak. he hopes his voice doesn't come out strained. “then you slept with him?”

“yes. didn't even make it to the bedroom, he took me against the dining room table. how am i ever expected to settle down and have my own children and a loving family when all i really want is that high.”

“how does the high make you feel?”

“it comes right before the orgasm, really.” your voice drops in octave, and rafe wonders if your pussy is getting wet reimagining the scene. “when he's inside of me, pounding hard, and i know he's about to lose it too.”

rafe pushes his underwear down and tugs his cock out, not kid himself any longer that he's not extremely turned on and cannot leave the confessional with his pants tented.

“we're moaning in sync, not worrying about the neighbors in that moment. im clenching around him and he's-” you hesitate for a moment, and rafe swears he hears a sensual exhale, as if you may be touching yourself on the other side of the booth. “he's stretching me out. i love the pulsing of right when he's about to cum-”

rafe lets out a moan as he strokes before he realizes and sits up suddenly, but his reaction is too delayed as you're out of your booth and opening the door to his.

“you perv! father-” you come face to face with a handsome young man instead of the elderly priest you expected. “you're not the father.”

your eyes then travel down to his cock and that devious part of you taking over again.

“it-it was an accident.” rafe says quickly, trying to explain why he's in the priests side of the confessional when you step inside and close the door behind you.

“i have another sin to confess.” you pull the skirt of your dress up, revealing that you're wearing nothing beneath, your glimmering wet pussy directly in front of rafes face. he could so easily lean forward and taste you.

“ive always wanted to fuck in the confessional.”

rafe grabs your hips and tugs you down. he doesn't even know your name. he doesn't need to as his lips smash against yours, wildly making out.

you reach down between your bodies, grasping rafes hard cock and giving it a few strokes before you line yourself up.

you hesitate for just a moment before sinking down as rafe moans into your mouth, hoping that his mother isn't up in heaven looking down at him desecrating this holy place with you.

you gasp and pull away from the kiss as you adjust, your pussy being stretched just the way you described liking it.

“fuck.” rafe hisses out.

“shouldn't curse in a place of worship.” you smirk at him, cutting off whatever reply he had as you begin to move, bouncing up and down.

rafe grabs your hips, helping you move. his hands are strong as they disappear beneath your dress, needing to feel your bare skin.

“so good.” you whimper, pressing your forehead against rafes, breathing heavily as the temperature in the small booth rises.

“fuck, your pussy-” rafe grunts out as his hips begin to snap up into your tight heat. 

“you ever had a good catholic girl like this?” there's a hint of playfulness in your voice that rafe is shocked you can manage with your labored breathing.

“from your confession, im not sure you're all that good.” rafe says, moving his hand to rub his thumb over your clit, mostly just to see the reaction on your face as you moan out.

hes thankful for the late hour as he doesn't move his mouth forward to silence yours, letting your beautiful symphony of pleasure escape through the confessional walls and fill the church.

“this high.” you arch your back, eyes rolling back in your head as your fingers tighten on rafes shoulders. 

he knows exactly what you're speaking of. that moment when you're both on the apex, his cock swelling inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit, doing anything he can to elicit a reaction out of you, to increase your pleasure even more.

“cum for me.” rafe commands in a shockingly even voice, even surprising himself as your body stills and then shakes, crumpling forward into rafes strong arms as your pussy clenches around rafes cock, and it's all he needs to release himself, thrusting upwards and spilling inside of your cunt.

you're both breathing heavily as you come down from your high, wrapped up in each others bodies and your own intersecting pleasure before you have to pull away, realization setting in.

“oh my god.” you giggle. “we just fucked in the church.”

“shit.” rafe laughs as well. this is certainly not what he meant to do when entering into the church, yet his soul still feels lighter as he looks at your smile.

“god,” you look up at the ceiling, as if you're talking to him directly. “im so sorry. im going to hell.”

“i guess ill see you there.” rafe chuckles before he's interrupted by a gasp as you pull off of him.

rafe is quick to get himself back together, very aware of the fact that you're still bare under your dress, his cum no doubt dropping down your thigh.

you push open the door to the tiny booth and take a breath of cool air before rafe is quick to follow you out.

“i thought i heard a noise.”

you both freeze as you look up to see the nun walking from across the aisle.

“do you need the priest? he's already retired for the night.”

“no, sister.” you respond, a soft, innocent smile gracing your features as you grasp rafes hand and pull him to continue towards the exit. “see you at service sunday.”

you both let out a laugh as you push open the large wooden doors and flee from any more questions.

“can i at least get your name?” rafe asks as you enter into the night, way lit by moonlight.

“no.” you smile back at him. “but i will have another confession to make. tomorrow. same time.”

[ot3]

ace attorney characters: do they fuck good?

phoenix: what he lacks in skill and experience (and i DO believe he lacks these things at least until he starts fucking kristoph on the reg) he somewhat makes up for with enthusiasm and taking direction well

mia: i do think she was partying hard at law school almost rumspringa style after getting away from living as a Mountain Nun so yes

maya: i do think she could fuck like a champ but u gotta be in to her clown antics or it's not gonna land. kinda girl who would strip naked and hten u see shes got like eyes drawn on her boobs with sharpie

gumshoe: i think that he's so The Type of whoever is gonna be sleeping with him that it almost doesn't even matter. he's probably fine though. hes a nice guy.

edgeworth and franziska: sharing a slot because they share an answer. no, for identical reasons. they're such neurotic perfectionists that sex terrifies them because there's not any way to practice before someone has to see you do it. they need someone who can love them the way a tween girl loves a Problem Horse to blossom into their full potential

larry: no.

lana: no because shes a workaholic and shes just trying to get it over with half the time because she's got other shit to do

ema: to repeat myself from earlier i think she kind of sucks and kind of doesn't give enough of a shit #depressiongirlswag

apollo: yeah i think apollo fucks

klavier: this one's really hard to me because i do think klavier is giving it his all but due to him being hot and famous i'm just not sure he's ever gotten honest feedback in this department so i really can't say. i think odds are decent that he's mid and coasting and if he ever knew this it'd devastate him

kristoph: unfortunately for everyone i think the answer is yes but only if his entire personality isn't a dealbreaker for you

lang: obviously. next question.

justine: yeah

asougi: not as good as he thinks he is. once again the hotness is doing a bunch of heavy lifting

ryuu: i know he's a freak in bed but i don't think he knows he's a freak. despite or perhaps because of that that i think he's kind of a savant in this department since it's the version of reality that's funniest for me.

van zieks: pray forgive his discourtesy of getting glass shards and red wine stains on the bedsheets and also just generally staring off into space like a brooding widow during these carnal acts

sholmes: the attention span is just too fucked he's that post about leaving someone tied up in the other room and then forgetting. if you could get him to stay still long enough the dick would probably rule but you can't. you just can't.

[landograndprix]

woman ✾ l.n - viii

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ being in love is hard when there's people trying to sabotage it but they aren't aware of the strong bond you and lando have formed over the last few weeks.

❧ lads (gn), I'm so sorry it takes me ages to update this fic pls forgive me :( omce again, spelling mistakes add 🌟 character 🌟 charles' a lil weird and these fans can suck my **** 🥰 verstappen!reader.

❧ prev part – next part

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y/nverstappen posted to their story

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y/nverstappen

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 81,564 others

y/nverstappen celebrating iris' 31st the right way ♥️

tagged: irisxo, martingarrix

view all 1,654 comments

irisxo best birfday baby 😘

↳ y/nverstappen ♥️♥️

maxmaxmax my favorite party animals <3

charleslec lmao time to act like adults then?

↳ norry4 life doesn't end after 25 💀

hamilt44n man y'all so pressed about older women living their lives lmfao just say your jealous

verstappenmax my favorite people

mrsnorris am I the only one who thinks her and martin are together?

landitonorris at least she's not in monza bothering lando lol

↳ norstappen not to burst your bubble but max pretty much said he's flying to ibiza with lando after the race 🥰

landitonorris when did he say this?

norstappen in a dutch interview yesterday

landitonorris oh well as long as she stays away from lando 😇

norstappen lmao why, you think you have a chance with him or something?

norry4 honestly hope they get caught making our or something just to upset y'all fake fans even more 💀

versthappenm don't listen to the haters bestie, we still love you ❤️

charlesgirlies 31 and still not settled down, maybe iris should focus on that instead of partying all the time 🤡

↳ carlandooo pretty sad you have to go and talk shit about y/n AND her friends just because she talks to charles, you're the clown here 🤡

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y/nverstappen posted on their story

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc

You're in Monaco again?

y/nverstappen

Yes

charles_leclerc

hanging out with Max?

y/nverstappen

Yes

charles_leclerc

And lando? 😉

y/nverstappen

You think I don't know what you did?

what do you want from me charles?

charles_leclerc

alright, I'm sorry..can we talk?

y/nverstappen

nah don't think that's necessary

it was never anything serious and never will be anything serious.

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Woman taglist @hockeyboysarehot @beatricemiruna @starwarssavy23 @be-your-coffee-pot @thecubanator2 @ironmaiden1313 @hanniesdawn @leclercdream @alexandralibbre @elliegrey2803 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @laneyspalding19 @whoreks @cha-hot @luciaexcorvus @emma34501 @sunny44 @roseseraj @goldenharrysworld @18754389 @graciewrote

[dollycxre]

req: Hi I really liked your fic with Athena and I would like the same fic with Hades if you don't mind. Thanks in advance!

yandere PJO! Hades x demigod! darling 💀🐺👑 - general hcs

I would like to start off by establishing that I truly and firmly believe that Hades would NEVER hurt you or torture you like some of the other gods and goddesses *agressive coughing* Athena, Ares and Hera *more aggresive coughing*

Well and truly he is too in love with you to even THINK about that

I mean have you seen how he reacted to Persephone hating him at the start of their relationship???

Anyways, I believe that the way you would meet is if you were a mother figure to Nico

Nico was immediately drawn to you, an older camper who had stayed back to help Chiron as a counsellor

You weren't afraid of him like most other councellors, rather, like Percy and Annabeth, you saw him as more of what he was; a child who just needed love and affection, a neglected and abandoned child who had to grow up too soon

He's rightfully suspicious and offstanding to you at first but if you act the correct way around him, he definitely takes to you

He starts opening up to you about different things, how he felt about his sister's death, how he felt about Jason's death and how he was struggling to see the point in anything

Comforting him at any time late in the night because he's anxious and depressed and being the one to introduce him to Will also helps :)

I think after he starts dating Will is when he takes you to introduce you to his dad because he finally feels like he has a mother

And that is when you, unfortunately, catch the attention of the Lord of the Dead himself

It's very very hard to gain Nico's trust, considering what he's been through, Hades knew you must have a heart of gold or atleast cared about Nico to have one around him

He finds you intriguing, the way you stand tall to him and only give him a stiff bow, how you roam about and talk to his ghoul servants with ease and of course, how well you're able to take care of and calm down Nico

So his inner stalker starts acting up and he starts sending his servants to spy on you, following you around in the darkness, watching you in the shadows, showing up in your dreams, resulting in them melting into nightmares

Waking up trembling and sweating because of the horrifying creatures and distant memories tormenting you :(

Hades hates tormenting (traumatizing) you but he can't really help it since he needs to know your routine to kidnap you

Actually, I don't know why I censored that, he does kidnap you

He basically sets his furies on your ass which sucks for you but he had no choice

Like imagine just having a quiet, comfortable time in your cabin, all alone with just a nice book and your favourite drink

And then screeching she-demons descend on you and literally drag you all the way to the underworld

Of course, you were having absolutely NONE of that, kicking and screaming

But he gets you eventually

As soon as they deposited you in your bedroom, the man himself comes to see you

Hades confesses to you immediately and tells you he loves you

You immediately remember the story of Persephone and shove him away in horror

From then on, it's just a never ending cycle of him trying to win you over with his wealth and confessions of undying love

Visiting your bedroom everyday with flowers from Persephone's garden

They're beautiful of course but that doesn't mean you'll forgive him

Chucking things from your incredibly expensive bedroom at him while he just stands there and stares at you sadly before leaving

Yelling at him and begging for him to take you back home but he just shakes his head no and apologizes to you over and over

This could go either of two ways, depending on the kind of person you are

1. You keep fighting against him until you finally give in, accepting your situation and deciding to make the most of it

2. You accept his love, thinking that it's better to have undying love than mortal love

He'll be delighted when you finally storm out of your room and go to his throne room, calmly informing him that you accept his proposal

He ADORES you

He's very clingy and he wants you in the throne room with him at all times

He's the kind of person to stare at you for hours and get completely distracted from his job

Like most of the times, you're gonna have to be the one to interview the souls who come to meet him because he's too busy gazing at you

He loves being romantic and will wake you up every day with flowers

He isn't very touchy-feely, he's more of a gift giver kind of person

I mean, he's the god of wealth for god's sake

He will literally get you ANYTHING you want

Even if it's sold out EVERYWHERE, he will personally commission Hephaestus to make it for you

Literally dream of anything, anything that you could possibly want and boom, the next morning, you wake up with it on your bedside table

All he wants in return is a little kiss every day and you telling him you love him

He's one of the gods who will let you roam the above world

He knows that he treats you so well, you'll come back to him anyways

He loves taking you on romantic dates to literally any place you want

Renting out the Eiffel tower just for the two of you is quite the common occurrence, it's his favourite place for a date <3

Complete gentleman, notices everything about you and will literally just chuck money at people, gods, ghosts and monsters alike to make whatever you want happen

Even the slightest show of affection from you is enough to make this poor god pass OUT

Like imagine picking a pretty flower from the above world for him and presenting it to him in the throne room??

He almost fainted of happiness and immediately ordered it to be planted in the royal garden so he could go and gaze at it for eternity

He's in the seventh heaven when you tell him you love him

For everyone wondering what's going on on the Persephone aspect of things, I think she'd be pretty damn pissed at first

Not only because he kidnapped ANOTHER girl

But also because that's her husband??

But unlike Minthe, he actually defends you and refuses to let her hurt you or turn you into a plant and crush you

Eventually, depending on your behaviour and attitude towards her, Persephone will either hate you but not do anything about it, learn to tolerate you OR she'll love you <3

Maybe a little too much....

I mean, you caught her husband's eye....so surely there's something about you that intrigues her too....

But that's a good thing!.....right?

Good luck to you if she ends up turning yandere for you because she is definitely not as soft-hearted and non-violent as Hades

Either way, living in the underworld turns out not to be so bad, especially when you can wander around in your choice of clothes all day, throw money around on things you want, living in a gigantic palace decorated to your design and basically do whatever you like in return for loving an actually really sweet god

Y'know, even if it IS completely filled with spirits and zombies

But that's just minor details in exchange for literally anything in the world....right?

Also, Cerberus ADORES you

Even if you have dog allergies, since he isn't technically a real dog, his 'fur' doesn't affect you

Will follow you around everywhere, begging for pets with all 6 of those cute puppy eyes

Also loves playing fetch :3

Once Nico found out that his father kidnapped you, his reaction was something along the lines of silent, shocked staring

"Nico...I can expla-"

"What. The. Fu-"

He gets used to it pretty fast, he's used to his father's weird, obsessive antics by now

And besides, it just means he gets to spend more time with you <3

I have this irrelevant hc that he likes dragging you with him to his father's throne room and giving him a forceful makeover, just to embarrass him

Hades puts up with it, mostly because he's a softie

In terms of punishments and such, the only time he'd really get pissed is if you tried cheating on him

Like he is so whipped for you that he is willing to let anything slide...except for disloyalty

Even then, the most he'll do is isolate you

He really can't keep himself away from you either

Mostly, he'll just send his minions to guard you a lot more

Which is just more inconvenient and annoying than anything mentally damaging

Overall, he's one of the tamest yanderes in terms of Greek gods

He really doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to stay with him forever

He's just clingy :)

[queen-morgana91]

"Why do people dislike Zuko/Zutara stans??"

Mmmh

🤦‍♂️

Sorry but I can't stay silent anymore, these posts are insane

Aang: a kid/genocide survivor lashing out because his best friend and only living link to his people has been stolen. The avatar state (a power he is afraid of) was a response to losing another part of his home, the only person connecting him to his past and eradicated culture

Katara: saw Aang loosing control in the avatar state and CHOSE to be at his side and help him, because she KNOW what's it's like having your loved ones stolen from you, she is hurt from seeing him hurting because she's an empathetic person and she loves him. She's comforting a friend during an emotional crisis.

Zutara/Zuko's stans: Ugh violent destructive tantrums save yourself katara! Zuko <3

Mh ok.

It's funny because those people are stanning a character who called Katara a peasant and threatened to wipe her village and only were in good terms in the last few episodes. They are stanning a character who was a villain/antagonist for two seasons (and half of season 3) who tried to kill her and her friends over and over again. But that's ok, he suffered and redeemed himself in the last 3 episodes, so it doesn't matter, while everything the abuser/toxic Aang """did""" was beyond forgiveness.

That's the message of Avatar the Last Airbender :)

The way people in this fandom are so unempathetic towards a 12 year old who lost everything is so crazy to me.

These episodes are full of sad moments with a lot of hurt behind it. These are all children (child soldiers also) overwhelmed by moments of severe loss. These children are human and they have flaws.

This is why being a fan of most animated content sucks as their fanbases have the intellectual capacity of a goldfish

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up :) m.list

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3 m.list

[artdcnaldson]

patricks sister au has me in a tizzy hes so mean my pussy is sopping wet but what if he got meaner - what if he started dating someone just to get the message across. kisses her where you can see and acts all boyfriendy. what he doesn't know is that ur certifiably insane and purposely crash dates he has with her under the guise of 'i need a ride home.' and 'i need help with homework.' art knows what you're doing, isn't impressed by it.

but one day his girlfriend takes it upon herself to snap at you - maybe you're at a party and this time its not a ploy - you really do just want to go home - and you come up to art and his girlfriend rolls her eyes like, "jesus, here comes your fucking fan club, art." looks at you like, "you know you're annoying right. that everyone knows you have a crush on him? take a fucking hint. he. doesn't. want. you."

and you get tears in your eyes, bottom lip wobbling.... you run off so you dont see the absolute look of rage that flits over arts face. the way he becomes a wall of ice. if he was mean to you the cold way he turns to his girlfriend and promptly dumps her in front of everyone is downright evil.

of course he has to come find you ☹️ and he has to say sorry ☹️ and maybe you'll forgive him and leave him alone if he tells you really truly honestly...... that he doesn't want you. and if he cant say that...... then at least, cant he be your first kiss? please? you'll milk more tears out if you have to.

GODDDD <3

It’s so obvious what you’re doing. But maybe he shouldn’t have his dates on campus, shouldn’t bring his girlfriend to parties he knows you’re going to be at. It’s like he’s asking for you to do it.

And yeah the past excuses have been total bullshit. They were so weak, not even convincing, but you could always count on Art to walk you back to your dorm with his girlfriend in tow. He stops at your door, she lingers behind, and you smile all pretty and thank him.

Alone in your room, you wonder if he’s going to take her back to his dorm to fuck her. You’ve seen the way he kisses her— sweet and gentle, the way boyfriends kiss. You wonder what it’s like when they fuck— if he keeps that same sweet, doting facade on when he’s fucking into her cunt.

Probably. Art’s sweet, he’s respectable. You’re the only one who brings out the fire in him in your brother’s absence. It must be boring when they fuck. Missionary, cowgirl, doggy when he’s feeling adventurous.

You’d never be boring for him, never let things get stale. You don’t even know why he likes her, why he wastes his time. Sure, she’s pretty, she’s… an English major? Whatever.

So the next time you’re at a party and you come up to Art, they figure it’s just jealousy. That you’re just trying to break them apart. Again.

Your DD left with a polisci major, you were drunk and ready to leave. Two hours of watching Art and his fucking girlfriend suck face and grind to shitty music had left a sour taste in your mouth. You just wanted to be home in your bed already.

So you walked up to the two of them nursing beers in a group. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you, whispered something to one of her friends. You ignored her, tugged on Art’s arm.

“Can you walk me back to my dorm, please?”

It’s supposed to be earnest, it is earnest. But Art can’t get a word in before She interrupts.

“Jesus Christ. This whole thing you’re doing isn’t cute anymore. It’s just really fucking annoying, and we’re all fucking sick of it. Find someone else to throw yourself over and leave Art alone. You’re just embarrassing him at this point.”

You try to be a Big Girl about it, to say something back, but all you can manage is a weak I’m sorry before you’re leaving with hot tears streaking your cheeks and a nauseous pit in your stomach.

You don’t hear about the aftermath until later— whispers from a friend, really. Art had laid in on her after what she said. Called her things you’d never heard him say, that you couldn’t even imagine. Calling her a fucking cunt, telling her to mind her own fucking business and keep her fucking mouth shut about you. Shoved her off of him, told her to lose his fucking number.

But you didn’t know that. All you knew was barely five minutes after you had walked into the door and crawled into bed, there was a knock on the door.

You groaned, opened the door with teary, smeared makeup and a weak frown. Because seeing Art just makes it worse.

“I’m sorry Art, I never meant to embarrass you, and I know I’ve been horrible and awful and I’ve made you do awful things, and i don’t know when to just give up and it’s not fair to you.” He walks with you into the room, shuts the door and pulls you against his chest.

He smells like cigarettes and weed and beer and his girlfriend’s perfume. It makes you cry harder. “I’m really sorry, Art. I’ll leave you alone, I promise. I’ll tell Patrick to let you off the hook, and you won’t have to see me anymore.”

He pets your hair, leans back and wipes your tears with soft brushes of his thumbs along your cheeks. “You really don’t want me?” You ask weakly. “Not even a little bit?”

He swallows hard, because he doesn’t want to lie to you. Not tonight, not when you’re already feeling so bad. But what the two of you have isn’t healthy, it’s not what you need.

You sniffle, nod. “Will you just kiss me, then? Once? Please?”

His lips meet yours gently at first, with all the sweetness you’d expected from him, the same kind of kisses he’d give a girlfriend. You feel his tongue brush against yours and moan into his mouth.

It’s short— way too short— but you lean back with your lips tasting like him and that’s all your heart can handle for the night. Really it is.

“You should go,” you say finally, blinking away your tears and wiping at your eyes. “Really, I, uh, I have plans tomorrow, so—“

You don’t have plans, none at all. But he nods, kisses your forehead once.

When you’re in bed, you open your phone, text Art. I’m really sorry. You lock it and try to sleep.

[superfallingstars]

Personally I think jily is supposed to be idealized (like how James and lily were idealized) to Harry. James gets knocked of his pedestal in swm and so does jily by Harry questioning if his father forced his mother into marriage. Later when talking to lupin and Sirius James and Jily get a slight defense and Harry is back to feeling alright but with the knowledge that things weren’t perfect.

I personally don’t read Jily as abusive (even though I read James as being abusive to snape at school, but I don’t think that violent, physical behavior was extended to Lily) but I definitely don’t read them as a “good” couple (whatever that means). I think you can read it in many different ways given there is so little of them and I think an interpretation that their relationship wasn’t the healthiest is perfectly plausible with the scant information we’re given.

Yeahhhh that’s probably what JKR intended. James and Lily are the fridged parents who are dearly mourned and missed, and as a result, their flaws are completely smoothed over in everyone’s memories. But in Snape’s Worst Memory, Harry learns the hard lesson that things aren’t always what they seem, and that nobody is perfect, not even his dead father. Hurrah.

My problem with this is that I think it’s very boring, LOL. Like it really is probably exactly what JKR intended (given her middle-of-the-road takes on every moral and political question that happens in these books), but man, it feels like such a cop out. James basically ruins Snape’s life for no reason, and the conclusion we’re meant to draw from this is just, well, people are complicated! NO!!!! Bad answer!!! Like, Snape also did some terrible things, but at least he spends a ton of pages actively suffering/atoning for his sins. But James, on the other hand, is only somewhat implied to have changed maybe slightly a little bit somewhere off-page, and we just have to take #1 James Potter fanboy Sirius Black and serial understater Remus Lupin at their word. So if James was supposed to be “redeemed” – or even just excused – wow, it really doesn't work for me. You can't go as dark as "protagonist questions if his father forced his mother into marriage" and then just brush it off like no big deal, Joanne! And it’s so frustrating, because all it would've taken to fix this would've been to show James being a good person instead of just telling the reader that he was one (proof: trust me?). Ugh.

So because of all that, I agree that from what we’re given, it’s quite difficult to read Jily as “good.” We rarely see them interact, and when we do, James’s behavior is wayyyy too similar to the trope of “terrible guy eventually gets the girl even though she seems to hate him with every fiber of her being because his persistence and not taking no for an answer is just toooo romantic to resist.” Which sucks, lol. It feels like JKR is basically being like, “eh, James was young and dumb, whatever” and giving him a huge out for all the grief he caused Snape (and Lily, for that matter) – and she expects that the reader will agree that that is a legitimate excuse for his behavior, and by extension think that it's reasonable for Lily to forgive and eventually marry him. And man, I am just not sure if that is enough to convince me. (And evidently, I'm not alone, considering the “Jily is abusive” meta post that likely sparked this ask!)

With that said, I agree that it’s a stretch to say that James was abusive (or even implied to be abusive) toward Lily. It’s not a completely unfounded take – it could probably be written well in a fic, and even be canon compliant – but you would really have to extrapolate that dynamic from the little information we’re given (as you pointed out). And more importantly (at least, re: that meta), I don't think JKR intended that interpretation at all.

Personally, I just don’t think it makes sense for the narrative for James and Lily to have been in an abusive relationship. And by the narrative, I mean Harry. If Jily is an abusive (or even just bad) relationship, that would have massive ramifications for the way Harry sees his parents. Ideally he would have to come to terms with that at some point – I don’t think it makes sense for James’s and Lily’s relationship to have been this way and not have significantly affected Harry – but imo JKR clearly does not want to deal with that. Like you said, the point of SWM – aside from foreshadowing Lily and Snape’s relationship – was to knock James off his pedestal and basically go, See, nobody’s perfect. <3 And the story is not interested in engaging with James’s behavior on a level any deeper than that lol. Which ok, I don’t love it, but if we’re not going to spend time dealing with morally gray James, then it doesn’t make sense for him to be even more morally gray (or rather, have him fall face first over the line into becoming a downright despicable person) by making him abusive toward Lily.

So that's my Doylist analysis: no way in hell did JKR intend Jily to be an abusive relationship, but she also didn't do a good enough job defending and/or redeeming James after SWM, so we're just left to speculate about how much he really changed. Still, I don't think "JKR is a bad writer" is a very satisfying answer. After all, the only reason that I'm engaging with this text in the first place is because I'm a fan of it, so I think it's also worth looking at it from a Watsonian perspective – or at least, to accept the events of the book as they're written and try to fill in the blanks. (Imo so much of the fun of fandom is trying to fill in those blanks in a satisfying way, to expand upon a character and try to reach a more interesting conclusion than the author did... And I would be remiss not to mention that, because it undoubtedly influences the way that I (and probably also you, if you're on this side of tumblr) engage with the text.)

So for me, as a Marauders era fan, I’m faced with: ok, I don’t really like the idea of these two characters together, but they canonically got together, and I think the story is better because they got together, and it’s better if they genuinely like each other, and it all had to happen somehow – so how can I explain it in a way that both makes sense with the story and is satisfying to me? And my answer to that is twofold.

First, I imagine that James was not always quite such an awful guy (as in, not always as showy, combative, and cruel as he was in SWM). After all, there is a glimmer of goodness in him when he chooses to save Snape’s life during the Prank, revealing that somewhere deep down, he does in fact have a moral compass. And second, I think that he has to have changed. And I mean a genuine change – one that might not have resulted in completely different behavior (after all, he was still hexing Snape through his seventh year) – but regardless, something that makes him seriously reflect on his actions and reconsider his motivations. His behavior in SWM is just too inexcusable for him to get with Lily – partly because Lily is generally framed as a Very Good Person, and partly because regardless of how she is framed, James was still awful to her – without any self-reflection or growth. Of course, the problem then becomes explaining this in a satisfying way!

And I have some ideas in mind – but they’re definitely more speculation than fact, and omg this post is long enough already. Luckily, I received another ask on this topic, so I will save my self-indulgent headcanons for that.

There is one last thing I want to mention, which is (part of) my reasoning for why James may not have been such a bully all the time and why I think he has the capacity for change, and it's been nagging at me ever since I read that meta post (which again, presumably started this whole thing). I think one thing that bothers a lot of people (including me!) about James is that it seems like he chooses to pick on Snape in SWM because of Lily’s presence. He wants to show off to her, so he keeps looking over to the girls by the water, he ruffles his hair, he deepens his voice, and he tries to get her attention by targeting Snape. Following this logic, we can presume that James wouldn’t have done any of this if Lily hadn’t been there – and that’s the part that got me thinking. I have to wonder if Lily was perhaps not the only person who James wanted to impress in that scene… in fact, I think it’s incredibly likely that James would have acted differently if the Marauders hadn’t been there! (Harry has "the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off," and Sirius saying that he's bored is the inciting incident for James spotting Snape...!) Yes it’s going to be a James masculinity analysis because this is what happens every time I talk about these fucking characters apparently. So idk, stick around if you’re into that.

And of course, thank you for the ask!

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.4

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: Daryl starts changing, and Beth brings up the embarrassing memory of your kiss with Daryl back at the farm. The Governer has his final attack, and you crash at a church.

Notes: Starts with Beth at the prison, flashback to super awkward kiss with Daryl, ends with Beth at the hospital. ):

The change was subtle at first, but that doesn't mean you didn't notice it. You just ignored it in the desperate hopes that it wouldn't get any worse.

You had quite a few months of peace. Maybe half a year? You couldn't be sure at that point, but you did know that spring had turned to fall, and with it the idea of permanently residing in the prison becoming something you were content with. You still kept to yourself and Daryl, but you did pick up some extra chores. Instead of the bare minimum you chose jobs you could do outside, or jobs Daryl had taken. If you weren't tending to the gardens, you were with him in the woods, hunting or scavenging, even foraging on the occasion when prey was scarce. 

“Are you and Daryl together?’ Beth had asked so bluntly that you didn't have the mental capability to laugh or curse her out. You stopped picking cherry tomatoes and furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“Why would you ask me that?” 

Beth had a tight and timid smile, shrugging her shoulders and placing another cucumber in her basket. “You two are always around each other, that's all.” 

You shook off the feeling of vulnerability and sucked your teeth. “No. He's just the only one around here who I can stand.”

“Can you stand me?”

You looked at her over the row of chest high plants, seeing her hesitant expression. “Yes. I wouldn't’ve let you join me if that wasn't the case.” It wasn't a lie, you didn't mind being around Beth, even if you think she was the one of the weakest and most naive. Eventually you'd come to the realization that you had her all wrong, in fact, she was stronger than you. At least in the sense of emotional capability. 

Later that week she would end up giving you unwanted advice. She claimed that building walls and keeping everyone out besides yourself would kill you one day, much like the real world, you needed to allow yourself to rely on and trust others. You'd grow angry at her then, lashing out and telling her to mind her own business, you didn't need a therapist. She soon managed to turn into the first person you would apologize to and seek forgiveness from. 

Her questioning of the relationship between you and Daryl had your mind wandering to that night back at her fathers farm.

It was late. Daryl was still recovering from his gunshot wound but he wanted out of that damn house, so he settled for the next best thing to his tent, the back of the RV. Carol insisted he stay nearby, which you agreed to silently, and he begrudgingly accepted. 

You brought him a plate of dinner and sat in the chair next to him, sliding it over before taking one of the small boiled potatoes and popping it in your mouth.

“The hell you wearin’?” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Both pairs of pants were dirty and i didnt feel like walking around camp with my ass out.” You glanced down at the modest dress you’d been leant. You didn't mind it all that much, it was scratchy and tight, but it was kind of pretty. It was a warm yellow dress that ended below your knees with little white flowers and dots. You never really got to wear dresses growing up. 

“Huh.” Daryl muttered and raised an eyebrow at the imagery, raising his fork of chicken and carrots to his mouth. “Yeah. Don’t need another reason to knock Shane on his ass.”

“Shane? He hates me.” You snorted. “Would probably put a bullet in my skull if he could get away with it.”

“He’s still a man. Don’t matter how you feel about a woman, s’all the same seein’ her naked.”

“Ew, Daryl.” 

“S’true.”

“Yeah? What about you? You wouldn’t see me that way.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up from his plate. He was silent, and that alone had your heart racing, your lips parting, your mind swimming in hundreds of different thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“I ain’t no pillow biter.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Means I’m not a homosexual. Course I’d… can ya jus’ shut up?”

“I wasn't even speaking.” You tried not to laugh at the way Daryl said the word homosexual, like it was some exotic foreign mystery to him. It wasn’t hateful or disgusted in the way his brother would refer to them. 

It was quiet for a moment before you noticed he was wincing when he’d chew. 

“You hurting?” You asked, already reaching in your side pouch for the small baggie of painkillers Hershel had given you to give to Daryl when needed. 

“Nah. M’fine. Quit worryin’ so much.”

You scooted around the table until you could squeeze in beside him. He grunted in annoyance and slid over to give you more room, his eyes on the hem of your dress at your knees.

“Surprised you haven't scratched that thing off already.” You snorted and reached out to gently peel the bottom of his bandage up after he gave you a nod of approval. “Lookin’ good. Another surprise.”

“Ain’t no damn dog, haven’t been touchin’ it.” He rolled his eyes, trying not to feel uncomfortable  with the way your thigh pressed against his. After all these years of knowing you, feeling perfectly comfortable snuggled all up with you in the same tent, now was the time his body chose to acknowledge the fact that you were a woman?

He begrudgingly took the two small white pills from your hand and crunched them up in his mouth. He was eager for the painkillers to hopefully kill what little libido he had in him. 

It did its job, taking away the aching and throbbing from his skull, warming his body and reminding him why Merle used to love those things. He was suddenly optimistic, relaxed, filled with a fuzzy warm feeling of euphoria. Daryl cleared his throat and drug his eyes up to your face, watching as you snuck a stolen blueberry past your lips.

He acted without thinking and kissed you. It was clumsy, weird, awkward, all the things you’d expect from a boy's first kiss. You didn't move at first, your eyes wide and your hand hanging midair. You were too stunned to move. 

Daryl pulled back as if he’d been slapped. He muttered something, his face hot and red, waving his hand to signal you to leave. You were still too stunned to move. It took him raising his voice for you to snap out of it, dozens of thoughts and emotions flooding you all at once, fear, regret, hope, a stomach full of butterflies and your heart stuck in your tight throat. You muttered an apology before leaving.

Life loves giving you the shit end of the stick. 

That was another one of your problems, due to your near constant state of being a real victim growing up. Life had groomed you into an unhealthy behavior of always thinking you were the one who had it the worst, no matter what.  In reality you had it pretty good. After the Governors final attack you weren't one of the unlucky many that went through further trauma. You found a church after a while of being by yourself and broke into it. 

It was just your luck that the only human inside of it was a cowardly priest. He was thrilled to have someone like you with him after being alone so long, even though he didn't show it, you were a skilled hunter and offered food and protection in exchange for secure shelter. He also appreciated that you didn't speak much, and never questioned the suspicious markings and scratches around the exterior of all the windows. 

He'd complained once about your use of language in the church, and you responded by a snarky middle finger. 

You could've used a good wake up call, as sick as it was to say. Maybe if you'd been in Daryl's place, growing close to a girl such as Beth and then losing her, maybe you would've changed. Or if you were in Michonne's place, forced to watch the boy you'd come to love dance a hair away from one of the worst fates possible. Shit, maybe even Maggie, maybe if you were the one who had to go through hell and back to find your husband, maybe then you'd go through the emotional torture you so desperately needed for positive character growth. 

Life didn't work that way though, and you had it easy. So easy that the boredom was quick to become your hardship. 

“You got any booze here?” You asked as you laid on your back beside him in the pews, sharpening your clip point knife on Daryl's borrowed whetstone. 

“No.” He answered quickly, not looking up from the Bible in his hands. 

“Cigarettes? I'll be out soon.”

“I don't smoke.”

“Any of your old prescriptions? I know your type, I bet your bathroom cabinet was full of valium.” You took a jab at his timid and nervous personality.

“I'm sorry, no… I don't like taking pills. I don't even take Advil for headaches-”

“Do you have anything here that'll keep me from blowing my brains out?” 

Gabriel looked up then, holding a look of surprise and distaste that he didn't even try to hide. “I… I may have some games from the children's Sunday school classes.”

To the shock of both of you, you nodded after thinking it over for a moment. Gabriel hadn't expected that answer, but he got up and led you to the room anyway.

Neither of you believed that night would be the night that you started to like each other. The boredom had grown so unbearable that those stupid little games he had seemed like playing San Andreas on your father's PlayStation 2 for the first time all over again. It wasn't just the first time Gabriel saw you laugh, it was the first time you'd actually laughed in a long time, and it wasn't at the expense of others, you genuinely had fun. 

“I could teach you.” He had said after you made a joke about going to the darkest depths of hell after smoking and swearing in church. 

“Teach me what?” You snorted, flicking ash from your cigarette.

“About the Bible. How to change.” 

You laughed then, shaking your head. “I don't know, father. Don't think so. But, if you'll let me, I can teach you how to make meth.”

His eyes widened. “W-what? You know how to do that? No, I- no, what?”

“Just a joke. I'd hate to see you on crystal. You're already so jittery and anxious.” 

He grinned sheepishly then and you had a good night. A great night. 

All it took was reuniting with Daryl to snap you back to reality. 

You'd searched for him as long as you had daylight every single day since arriving at the church. Even though the first few days most of your time outside was spent hunting, searching for signs of Daryl or his group was your main priority. Catching rabbits and squirrels was just lucky for Gabriel. 

It was off putting having Gabriel return with nearly the entire inner group on your doorstep. Your arms were covered in squirrel blood and you had twigs all in your hair, swinging open the church doors with your boot, a cigarette hanging between your lips. The skinned squirrel dropped from your grasp as you saw them, over a dozen faces all turned to you, all at once. 

Daryl hugged you with an exhausted yet relieved grin on his lips. You remained frozen, too confused and shocked by their sudden arrival. He ended up having to move your body out of the doorway so everyone could enter. 

“Was starting to think I lost you for good.” You commented as you stabbed a plastic fork into your hot can of peaches, stretching your legs in front of the campfire. 

“Nah. I told ya, I ain't leavin’.” 

“So, what happened? You all get on the bus and leave my sorry ass?” You teased, enjoying the sweet taste of fruit, even if it was canned. 

Daryl gave you the rundown, about Beth, the group he stuck with, going to Terminus, and the new members who claimed their guy was a big shot fancy scientist who had a cure.

“That's bullshit if I've ever heard it.” You tried to ignore the gnawing in your chest at the information that Beth had been taken. That was just another sick and uncomfortable reminder that Daryl was truly it for you. Everyone would leave, but not Daryl. Never Daryl.

“I dunno. Seems pretty legit.” Daryl grunted, finishing one of the squirrels you'd caught earlier that day. “So what happened?”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, after the shit show. What happened?”

You sighed, impaling your last peach slice. “I walked for a real long time looking for you. Found the church and busted in, this guy was cowering in the back with his ass half way through the floorboards.” You pointed over your shoulder at Gabriel, who was so nervous speaking to Rick you could see his fingers twitching. 

“And I never left. Used it as a place to sleep without bugs crawling up my nose or walkers nibbling my feet.”

Daryl snorted, staring off into the flames of the campfire before asking another question. “You look for me?”

“I tried.” You chose to leave out the part where you ‘tried’ twelve hours a day, seven days a week. “Couldn't find a damn thing. No human tracks besides ole boy. Needs a little less Bible preaching and a little more stealth training.” You paused then, looking at Daryl, who was still staring  off into the flames. “Did you look for me?”

“For a while, yeah. Me and Beth.” It took him a moment before he went on. “Lotta shit happened after that. But I kept lookin’. Was lucky we ran into your friend there surrounded by walkers. Made lookin' a lot easier.” He chuckled dryly and you nodded. You suddenly thought about Daryl back in Atlanta, back at the farm. The way he looked for Sophia, day and night, subconsciously using her as his redemption for not being able to find Merle. Did he look for you the same way? Or was it a more of a ‘keep an eye out’ type of search? 

Deep down you knew the answer. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. 

You didn't have Daryl back long before he was gone again. He came back a while later with yet another new human, some scrawny kid claiming he knew where Beth was. 

It was surprising to you that Rick didn't suggest you just stay back at the church. He actually insisted you accompany them on their search for Beth. That was until you realized Carl and Judith would both be left behind with Gabriel, which would have left you as one of the only adults. That pissed you off a little, giving you the impression that he thought of you as some psychotic loose cannon, or that you weren't capable of protecting them. After you cooled down you accepted the fact that you wouldn't trust someone like you either to watch your only two children, the last thing he had of his late wife. 

Rick had come to slightly regret bringing you when you tormented one of the ‘cops’ they were keeping hostage, blowing cigarette smoke in his face while he was immobile and randomly smacking a handkerchief against his face to annoy him. Rick must've said something to Daryl because instead of thinking your antics were absolutely hilarious, he discreetly pulled you aside and told you to ‘leave the damn man alone’. 

Blowing a little smoke in someone's face was nothing compared to what you wanted to do when you watched Beth get shot in front of you. 

It had only hit you that day when you finally saw your sweet pain in the ass again, you felt optimistic, relieved, her positive attitude was something you deeply needed. It was quickly replaced by feral anger, hissing, spitting, biting, clawing, the feeling of arms belonging to Tyreese wrapping around your torso to drag you away from the bloody mess you'd made of the nearest cop. 

You were grateful for your rage, it was so strong and numbing that you weren't able to cry. 

Oh, but how Daryl cried. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[pirateprincessblog]

Cry For Me 》 P. Seonghwa

I make these to help you visualise! But you are free to imagine whatever you like :)

NEW! Read the ongoing full version on Wattpad!

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:

One

Two

Three (in progress...)

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you promised your friend. you asked for forgiveness and gave a promise that you wouldn't even look her father's way. it isn't your fault that you suck at keeping promises. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x reader x khj 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: best friend's father seonghwa, seonghwa's business partner hongjoong, smut, angst, bits of fluff 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, unprotected sex, voyeurism, dacryphilia 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: had to include both of my biases :D

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

༻♡༺

The pastry shop was flooded with people. It was Monday, which meant new specials were added to the menu. Your special Butcher of Blaviken piece of cake was long forgotten. You didn't even get a chance to taste the inviting red frosting. Oh, to be in the Witcher world now instead of being lectured by your friend. Henry Cavill would understand.

"You didn't think about it affecting us? You didn't fear about losing me as you did it?"

You're numb to the words. Her father fucked the thoughts out of you and you couldn't seem to feel any guilt in you. Yet, you didn't want to lose her. She was the only one who could keep up with your mood swings and random obsessions with movies and books that come and go. She was the only one that returned the energy you'd give her.

"Damn it, answer me! What the fuck were you thinking? How the fuck did you even manage to do it? He doesn't fuck anyone since mom left!"

People are staring, those sitting getting their chairs closer. Your friend is giving them a free show and they're willing to take it.

"I swear to God-"

"I wasn't thinking." You say, looking directly into her eyes.

"What?"

"I was not," you get closer, making sure not to break eye contact, "thinking."

"How the fuck did it happen? How did you convince him?"

The amount of the word fuck would even impress Geralt- well, you get it. I have an obsession with Henry Cavill. Little fourth wall break here. Okay, let's continue. No more, I promise.

Your calmness is angering her even more. She doesn't seem to understand how unaffected by all of this you are. You don't feel guilt simply because Mr Park agreed to all of it. In fact, you had already given up on your plan. He came to you and started it all over again.

"I was snooping around his library and he came, we hit it off and that's all you need to know."

"He came to you?" She laughs in disbelief.

"He came to the library, not me."

Frustrated, she groans and drops her head on the table. You glance at the cake, the chocolate Wolven sword on top of it as inviting as Mr Park in his unbuttoned shirt.

"Listen, I cannot undo what happened. Truthfully speaking, I wouldn't even if I could."

The girl raises her head, her angered look changing into the one of disappointment. You try putting yourself into her situation. You'd feel hurt, sure. But as long as it is a one-time thing, you're sure you'd get over it. It's not like Mr Park will declare his love to you and make you his new wife and her step mother. And that's what you tell her, causing her to calm down a bit.

"Didn't you make similar comments about Wren's dad? That you'd give him anything he'd ask for, if only he approached you?"

She seems offended that you remembered and mentioned that. Still, she remains calm. Her eyes are fixed behind you, concentrating on the moving line of people that are no longer interested in your conversation.

"It was just a one-time thing. It won't happen-"

"I miss mom."

And just like that, she breaks down. Your heart shatters when the first tear rolls down her cheek. After all, she is still her dad's little girl. And no matter what Mrs Park did, she was still her mother.

"Hey-"

"Just let me do what I need to do." She says, her voice trembling as words left her mouth. "I just need to let it out."

"You sure you want to do that here?" You ask, careful not to make her angry again.

She sits silent for a few moments. Her eyes are fixed on the traffic outside, a tear rolling down her cheeks every other moment. You've never seen her so helpless and vulnerable. She is always collected, calm, and usually the one to cheer people up. Now, when it's your turn, you don't know what to do.

"I could do it in a dressing room at Zara." She laughs, then sniffs. "Want to join me?"

And just how can you say no to her?

It is noon when you enter her house. Both of you are drowning in various bags full of clothes. She is an entirely different person than she was this morning. As if it didn't happen at all. You're watching her as she skillfully carries all her bags up the stairs and into her room. You almost trip and fall multiple times, yet you are determined to get there on your own, without any help. She laughs at you from the top of the stairs, then announces that she is going to take a shower.

You balance the bags in your hands, eyes glued to the marble stairs which shined brighter than diamonds under the expensive chandelier. Once you reach the top of the stairs, you put the items on the floor so you can correct your posture and crack your back. You hear a thump, then shuffling. With horror, you watch as two bags start rolling down the stairs. All of its contents are spilling on the way down, and all you can do is watch and hope they'll stop at some point.

But when they do, they stop in front of a pair of polished black shoes. Your eyes stay fixed on the Victoria's Secret pink bag, somehow hoping that if you're not looking at him, he will disappear. Pale slender fingers come into sight, the pointer finger hooked under the handle of the bag. Your eyes follow as he raises it to his head level.

"I think you might've dropped something." He speaks first.

You're not sure what to say. Or do. So you continue to stand like a deer on a highway, your feet refusing to move. Since you're already staring, you take a few more moments to admire the changes on him. His hair is darker than the last time, and not as fluffy. His lips have a red tint, and you notice a slight shadow at the corners of his eyes. He is wearing a black turtleneck, paired with perfectly ironed pants and a belt. He is effortlessly perfect.

He chuckles, then bends over to pick up the items laying on the white tiles. Your legs and brain finally make a signal, and you are running down to yank the items away from him. Your movements are rushed and clumsy, and all the clothes are landing outside the bag instead of inside it. From the corner of your eyes, you realise that he has stopped helping. Instead, he is standing again, his attention now on something else.

You wish the ground could swallow you. A piece of fabric lays on his delicate fingers, thumb caressing the lace as a smirk forms on his tinted lips. He is holding your newest holiday edition lingerie set. It is as red as your cheeks right now, and if you didn't look away, you're sure your head would've exploded from embarrassment.

"Good deal on the set?"

You're not sure if he is trying to lighten the obviously awkward situation, or if he is making fun of you. After all, he is standing there, dripping in designer clothes and looking classier than you. Yet you're standing there, dripping in clumsy and tacky.

"I would never buy something so ugly for a full price." You manage to mumble, then reach for the fabric.

"Ugly? I don't think it's ugly." He pulls his hand away, "It's very... Well, it screams Christmas. And only ten dollars for a full set?"

Unable to read his expression and tone, you stay frozen. You feel so small in front of him. The tone is tugging towards mockery more than towards harmless joking, and you're not feeling comfortable. Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, your lip slightly trembling. You're a mess, standing in your scattered lingerie and paper bags, in front of your friend's hot father who isn't making you feel as good as last time you saw him.

"Can I please have my things back?" You manage to ask, voice cracking at the end.

His smile drops. The man takes a few moments to examine your body language, and once he realises what he has done, he puts the items in the bags. He takes his time to pick them up one by one, not once looking up at you.

Your sniffles echo through the room, and you're trying your best not to let the tears smear this little makeup you have left on your face. You still have to look a bit decent. Park Seonghwa is now holding the bags in front of you, patiently waiting for you to take them. You carefully soak in the tears with the sleeve of your top. Your eyes avoid his as you reach out to take your belongings. The slight brush of his cold fingers against yours has your stomach going on a rollercoaster. You remember how they felt against your lips as he touched you. You manage to look into his eyes, this time not looking away immediately. You wish to repeat the guilty pleasure. The way he looks down at you makes you want to drop on your knees and give him just what he deserves.

"That look is going to get us both into trouble again, kitten." He whispers.

Still focused on trying not to cry, you don't realise that you are pouting and looking at him through wet eyelashes. He gulps, then glances behind you. He then steps towards you, until you can feel his comforting warm breath on your face.

"That smeared mascara is giving me deja vu."

You immediately remember what he is referring to.

"Will you let me smear that pretty makeup of yours?"

So he gets off to smeared makeup. Ironic, since he always looks so neat and fresh. Not only him, but every area around him too. Your breath hitches as he brings his hand to your cheek, thumb ever so lightly grazing the skin where your tear had started the journey. He wipes it, then brings it over to his mouth. He closes his lips around the thumb, and you see his tongue peeking out a bit to lick the salty liquid off the tip. You are too taken aback by his action, and now you are the one to get a deja vu.

You stood like this in front of him the last time too, only this time, his fingers aren't in your mouth, but in his.

Maybe you spoke to soon, maybe he could read minds. You didn't know. You could only watch as he brings his thumb to caress your bottom lip, as if asking permission for entrance. You grant it to him, ready to give him anything he asks for.

Your core throbs at the way he sensualy massages your tongue with the finger. You allow yourself to get confident, swirling your tongue around it. He lets out a groan, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

"Don't give me that look, kitten. We can't."

You pull away from his hand, a string of saliva connecting your body parts making both of you feel dazed.

"Then stop fingerfucking my mouth, Sir." You say as politely as you can, tone low with lust.

Before you know it, Mr Park has you slammed against the wall, hands pressed firmly on your waist. You whimper when your back collides with the cold wall, but his actions are quick to distract you. His knee parts your legs, rising a little so that it makes contact with your crotch. You let out a sigh into his mouth, ready to give yourself to him. His fingers press into your cheeks, cupping your jaw so that you can't avoid his gaze. He is looking at you so intensely that you could cum right there on his thigh and knee. The smell of sandalwood and jasmine coming from his neck and chest area is not helping at all. It is inviting, and you don't want to be rude and decline an invitation.

"As much as I'd love nothing more than to fill you up with my cock against this wall right now, until you're staining my wall with your arousal, I'm going to need you to stay away from me."

The tower of fantasies you've slowly started to build suddenly crumbled down under his words. Emotions are erupting inside of you, lust and disappointment merging into each other and creating frustration and sadness. You are sexually frustrated, and this man has done nothing but worsen the situation.

"You'll leave me like this, Mr Park?"

He looks down on your lips, eyebrows furrowed as if thinking about which wire to cut.

Red — the powerful lust growing inside of him. The desire to have you crying under his touch from immense pleasure. The urge to abuse your clit with his tongue until he has you shaking in his arms.

Blue — the fragile relationship with his daughter. He just won her back, and making a fatal mistake like this could mean losing her forever.

Green — harmless flirting and teasing. Messing around and seeing you blush is something he just might get used to.

Park Seonghwa was also very sexually frustrated. But he was also a man with a reputation and half a family. He cannot bring himself to ruin either of the two.

"I want you on your best behaviour, kitten."

You look at him through your lashes again, this time on purpose. His fingers then pull at your hair, exposing your neck to him and causing you to whimper. He looks down at you, and you see yourself in his dilated pupils, drowning in the dark pools of lust.

"I mean it." He says, lips grazing your jaw as he speaks. "Be good for me."

And with that, he steps away from you, giving you one last head to toe checkup. He then turns around and makes his way to the library, leaving you flushed and a mess against the wall. You watch his back as he walks, noticing how huge his shoulders are and how slim his waist is. The things you'd do just to bite into any of those things. If you only had the courage and confidence to seduce him. You can only watch from afar, wishing that he would drop his guard and come to you.

It feels like that evening all over again; him making you yearn for him, then leaving you and disappearing into his space. The promises you gave to your friend are pushed back, and your brain has opened the path doe the thoughts you shouldn't be having. Yet, it's not breaking a promise if he is the one to come to you, is it?

You pick up the bags, this time not letting go of them until you've reached the room. You drop on the bed, face buried into the softest blankets you've ever touched in your life. Your clit is almost pulsating and burning from being all worked up. Touching yourself won't help. It's not the same. You've gotten a taste once, you'll never be able to do it the old way. Park Seonghwa is the only one who can help.

How dare he get so close to you, get you all worked up like that, then tell you to stay away? What kind of sick teasing and torture kinks is he into? Whatever it is, you have already fallen into his trap. You crave him, your body yearns to be touched by his fingers again. Every place on your body he touched on the stairs burns with sensation. You can only let out a frustrated groan before getting up and fixing your hair.

Your eyes examine the abnormally red cheeks and smeared mascara. You looked like you were fucked senseless, not just cornered by your friend's hot father. Although you wish he did the first.

"Professor Gellert gave me this stupid project that needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to— damn. Are you okay?"

The girl comes in while drying her hair with a towel, eyebrows scrunched with worry as she looks at your reflection in the mirror. Your back is turned towards her, and you're having a hard time looking into her eyes. How can you, when in your mind you're picturing Mr Park forcing your head onto his cock as tears run down your cheeks, just how he likes it?

"Are you sick?"

"The stairs killed me." You laugh it off, pointing at the bags.

"Oh, right." She brushes it off, then throws the wet towel into the basket near the bed. "Do you have a dress for the college celebration next week?"

"I'm not going." You say, remembering how many familiar people will show up.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to have a stomachache then."

You don't even have to look up to know that she is killing you with her stare. Both of you know that you will end up going, you just choose to throw a little tantrum before giving in.

"Your dance partner is so excited for you though."

"I forgot whose name I even pulled. Mind reminding me?"

To avoid having people without a pair, all people were supposed to pull out names. You know you weren't too thrilled about it, but you still can't remember who it was.

"Avan? No, he is with Vic. Oh, Joseph!"

"The Catholic boy?" You ask, now realising why you were so unimpressed.

"No, no, the hot Catholic boy. His hair grew since last summer and his teeth are like, super straight and white. He became the hottest thing to ever walk at that college."

A sigh leaves your lips at the realisation that more money will be reduced from your bank account. You can't go looking basic nor weird. People there aren't the nicest little dandelions, and you are very fragile when it comes to real life. You will need a proper dress, proper heels and equally good makeup. Luckily, you know just the person who will help.

Hours of goofing around, working on the project, and a warning to quiet down from Mr Park due to his business video chat, both of you are asleep. You'd lie if you were to say his stern voice didn't do things to you. He was so good at giving orders, and you are willing to take all of them. Both of you were in your matching satin sleeping dresses, laying on your stomach and watching funny moments of your favorite groups, laughing your heads off and making weird noises on purpose. It was a competition, each of you making a weirder and louder noise than the other. A few screams and laughing fits later, Mr Park Seonghwa knocked on the door. He came in calmly, eyeing up both of you.

"Girls, I have an important meeting and I'm trying to win an opportunity to keep our lives the way they are and not lose everything. Yet, here you are, sounding as if I've kidnapped you and am boiling you alive."

Your smile drops, but your friend remains the same. This tells you that him coming in to intervenire happens more often than you'd think. His usually soft and sparkly eyes are now sharp and serious, his eyebrow raised and his tinted lips going slightly downwards. He is still wearing the turtleneck, only this time he has added a grey coat resting on his shoulders.

"Sorry, dad."

His eyes shift to you, and silence swallows the room. You are taken aback by the intense gaze, and your friend nudges you with her elbow.

"S-sorry, da- Mr Park." You stutter, and your face heats up as soon as you finish the sentence. You wish to crawl out the window and disappear in the bushes. Maybe even cry yourself to sleep there.

Your mission is to seduce him, yet how can you succeed when all you do is embarrass yourself in front of him? He must've lost interest. You are convinced that he is your fantasy come to life, and you simply can't let go. You don't want to let go. Not until you get at least one more taste.

To your surprise, he only hums, then exits the room. You hear his footsteps in the distance, then a door being shut louder than usual.

"He's a real dick sometimes."

In the morning, you are awoken by your friend's raspy voice asking for period cramp pills. It takes you a few moments to adjust your eyes to the morning light.

"Where are they?" You mumble, mouth full of toothpaste.

"Your favorite place in this house." She laughs.

You peek outside the little bathroom to ask why she is laughing and what does she mean by that.

"Dad's office."

You roll your eyes, then return to brushing your teeth. Once you make sure to pick on your skin a little, then put on foundation so that your friend doesn't give you a lesson about it, you head outside.

"You'll see a few drawers below his fantasy section. There's all kinds of pills, just bring me the ones we usually use in these days of suffering."

As you approach the room of your favorite memories and dirty pleasures, you hear his voice coming from inside. It sounds lower than usual, and he sounds very professional. He is saying words even you've never heard of. In conclusion, he even talks expensive and sexy.

"Hongjoong, my marketing team is suffering because they took the most important elements from them. Half of the team quit when they heard who is trying to get involved."

You don't want to interrupt, but if you don't get those pills, you're going to be the first victim of the Hormonal Queen Park. You knock lightly, then slowly open the door.

You swear that if your toes didn't hit the wooden door frame as you tried going inside, you'd let out a moan. Mr Park is sitting in his usual chair, wearing a white shirt. It is halfway unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You see a thin gold chain decorating his sun kissed skin on his neck. His lips are reddish as usual, and his hair isn't as neat as it was yesterday. His jaw rests in his hand, while his other hand is scribbling something on the papers at the corner of his desk.

He doesn't speak. Instead, he raises an eyebrow towards you. You point towards the drawer, then try showing him that you're looking for pills with your hands. He scoffs, then returns to his conversation. Still sleepy, you forget that you are still only wearing the satin lavender dress. It is when the morning cold breeze hits your legs that you realise. You're already here, there's no point in being embarrassed anymore.

Your eyes read the signs at the top of the bookcase. Adult fiction, Criminal, Erotica, Fiction, Horror... and Fantasy! Right behind his back.

Fuck.

Having no other choice, you get down on all four, and start crawling towards the drawers. Mr Park hasn't yet noticed your little mission. He is too frustrated with his ongoing problem to notice a half naked girl crawling on his office floor. You cheer inside your head as you successfully reach the drawers. You pull at the handle, but it doesn't budge.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You sigh, trying with all your strength. The drawer stays closed, and you're already ready to go home.

The only thing left to do is ask Mr Park, but you wouldn't dare to interrupt. Instead, you crawl to his side, careful not to be seen on camera. You're sitting near his leg, looking up at him while figuring out how to ask. You opt for the quietest solution, and you'll see where it gets you. With a quiet gulp and a sigh, you finally reach out towards him. Instead of quietly calling him like you intended, you gently poke his leg under the desk.

The man looks down, eyebrows scrunched with confusion. He almost chokes on his saliva when he sees you, then redirects his attention at the screen.

"Mr Park," you whisper.

"Hongjoong, I'm gonna have to pause the video for a second."

"That's fine, I'll just go through the mails one more time."

You hear a click, then silence. Mr Park grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. You look like a treat, waiting to be picked up and consumed by him. The way your knees have a slight red tint have his mind racing with thoughts.

"Are you crazy?" His tone is calm and low. The grip on your jaw is firm, his fingers pressing into your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout.

He can't get over how big your pupils have gotten, and how well he can see your cleavage from that position. The sight of your breasts squished together by the shiny satin fabric combined with your pouty stare from the bottom aren't helping his situation at all. How can he hold back when you're sitting there like a present, waiting to be unwrapped and enjoyed? He had countless comparisons, and hundreds of ways he could take care of you. If only he could.

"I just need some pills," you whisper, too mesmerised by his intense gaze to speak in normal voice.

"So you decide to crawl under my desk to ask for it?"

"I'm not—"

"Right, still nothing. I guess we really lost the proof."

The voice is coming from the screen again. A flash of disappointment crosses Park Seonghwa's face. Still, he leans back into his chair, hand still holding your jaw. His grip softens, and he proceeds to caress your cheek with his thumb. The simple action makes you almost purr. You don't remember the last time you got this kind of affection.

With your eyes closed, your body relaxes into his touch. Nothing exists anymore, except Mr Park, his scent and touch. You allow yourself a few moments of silence. The men's voices are becoming distant, and you swear that you could fall asleep just like this. You feel the slight roughness of his fingers, a sign that he aged like fine wine. You remember your father's hands being all rough and dark due to working hard jobs all these years. Seonghwa must've inherited family business. Or he knows how to take care of himself.

You look up at him, chin now resting on his knee. You aren't sure if you want to climb into his lap and take in all the affection he is willing to give you, or get down further under the desk and make him squirm in your hands. Deciding to test the waters, you drag your fingers up his leg, resting them just near his crotch. Mr Park wets his lips, glancing at you for a second. When you see no signs of complaining, you move over so that you're sitting comfortably between his legs. Your hands continue the journey to his belt, excitement rushing through your veins and into your heart as you feel the cold leather underneath your fingertips. You take your time to play with the buckle, just like you read in one of your favorite books.

Just like the man on the worn out pages of your book, Park Seonghwa gulps when you pull the zipper down, just enough to graze him with your nails. You're overflowing with confidence, and you're a little impatient too. But you want to take your time to take care of him. Make him yearn for you just like he did to you. As quietly as possible, you undo his pants, and are delighted when you find out he is wearing no underwear. You reach inside with your tongue, just enough to touch him and make him adjust in his chair.

"You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

Mr Park moves your hands, then pulls his cock out for you. One of his hands is holding onto your hair, gently pushing your head towards it. You don't have time to admire the size or all the little details you wanted. Your lips are pressing against his tip, the taste of precum sweet and salty at the same time.

He is impatient, and in desperate need to feel your hot mouth around him. You obey, finally taking him in and making sure to press your tongue flat against him. Unable to control it, he releases a groan.

"Hwa, you sure you're good?"

"I'm good, I just —" he pauses, looking down at you. How does he tell his business partner and best friend that his daughter's friend looks too good with her mouth stuffed like that? With her tits almost falling out and her pupils so big he just wants to slam his cock into her pussy and fuck her into oblivion?

"Just...? If you're not feeling good, we can continue later. I get this must be very hard for you, but —"

Just when you think you've won, Mr Park shakes his head. "No, no. That's fine. Remember how I told you my daughter wanted a kitten? Well, she's not letting me work in peace."

"Oh, that's adorable. Give her a few pets from me."

Park Seonghwa smirks, then looks down at you. His fingers caress your cheeks, and you melt at the touch. It is a motivation to take him in all the way, slamming the tip against the back of your throat.

"She's a very naughty kitten. I can't seem to get rid of her."

"See, no matter what they do, I'll never be a dog person. I love them so much. Just the sight of one makes me feel all fuzzy."

"Oh, just wait until you see this one."

You freeze in your spot. Seonghwa pulls your head away with a loud pop, and shoves his desk away to expose you. His thumb wipes your drool and his precum from your lips, then proceeds to pull you into his lap so that you're facing the screen. The man on the screen is as frozen as you, and as handsome and Mr Park. His gaze drops on your now exposed breasts, and you see his chest slowing down as he tries to breath normally again.

"A unique one, isn't she?" Seonghwa speaks first, holding your head in place by pulling your hair. You're forced to look at the man, and instead of feeling ashamed, you are only feeling more worked up. "I've never been a cat person, but this one is just so obedient I might actually keep her."

"Well, fuck me. That is one hell of a kitten."

"Come on, love. Why don't we show Hongjoong all the tricks I have taught you?"

You aren't sure what he means, until he lays you on his chest and spreads your legs. Your panties are so drenched, they're almost see through. The man on the screen is devouring you with his stare. Something about both of their gazes and confidence has lit a fire inside of you that cannot be put out. In the corner of the screen, you see your exposed and messy figure spread out on Mr Park's lap, and it only adds up to the atmosphere you are so enjoying.

"Actually, since Hongjoong has more experience with cats, how about he shows us how to perform a some tricks?"

You know he isn't asking, just giving you a trailer of what awaits you. A chuckle comes from the screen, and the man flashes his pearly white teeth at you through a smirk.

"First, you might want to tie her up. You don't want her running away, do you?"

Without hesitation, the man yanks his belt from his pants, and secures it around neck. You are having a hard time breathing. Not because of the belt, but because of the overwhelming feelings mixing inside of you. You've never been manhandled like this, and you are afraid that you might get too used to the feeling of Park Seonghwa doing this to you.

"You still have that wand?"

"Sure do."

Confusion takes over your features, and you can't help but wonder why Hongjoong knew that. Do they do this often? If so, are you just another toy Mr Park is going to play with and leave?

"Relax, kitten." Mr Park seems to notice your sudden discomfort. "Spread your legs for me."

And just like that night, your legs are over the armrests, the wand dangerously close to your clit.

"Having a good view, Kim?"

"A gorgeous one, Park."

Mr Kim leans back on his chair, hands working on his belt but not yet doing anything. It seems he enjoys watching more than doing anything. A sweet vibrating sensation spreads all over your folds, and you cannot help but buck your hips into the toy.

"Make your screen bigger, Seonghwa. So that she can see just how pretty she looks."

The man doesn't pull the gadget away as he changes the screen size, making Hongjoong's the one in the corner and yours taking over the screen. Now you can clearly see yourself; spread on Mr Park's lap, his chin resting on your shoulder, dark eyes looking at you through the camera. His ringed fingers are skillfully moving the toy up and down your clit, while his other hand holds onto the belt, lightly choking you.

"Doesn't moan easily, huh? Try circles."

Mr Park listens, circling the swollen bud with consistent vibrations. You feel like you're going to cum any second, and you don't want to do that so soon.

"Feel good?"

"Yes," you breathe out, holding onto the fabric of his pants as you try your best not to go over the edge.

"Then let us hear it, doll."

No matter how good it felt, it wasn't enough to draw moans from you. "You have to try better than that, then."

A scoff leaves his tinted lips. He brings them close to your neck, just enough to lick a stripe up to your jaw.

"Use your other hand, too."

Mr Kim is so skilled with giving orders. And Mr Park is so good at listening to him. His fingers, which are the prettiest ones you've ever seen in your life, move your panties aside just to slowly thrust between your walls. He explores, wiggling his two fingers inside until he curls them up. With the elbow of the hand which holds the toy, he presses into your lower stomach, making the feeling more intense than ever. He starts pumping into you slow, matching the rhythm of the vibrations.

"I've never seen such an obedient kitten. Look how good she is doing."

"Indeed, she is doing so well. Now, if she could orgasm on my fingers, she would be the best."

"Ngh—" you groan, chasing the orgasm just like he asked you to. You know you can't handle two, but you're willing to try for him. Well, them.

"Come on, pretty girl."

"S-sir—" you cry out, ready to spill over, "I can't—"

"Can't what?" He slows down, moving the wand away for a moment. You take a few seconds to catch your breath. You feel all wet and sticky, but look hotter than ever. You're still unused by him, yet you looked like he has ravished you twice today.

"If I cum now, it'll be too much." You admit, pupils big as you look at him. "I want to cum when you fuck me."

"Spoke too soon about obedience, huh?"

The wicked smirk on the screen lets you know that they won't let you off so easily. Mr Park then slams his lips onto yours, sucking and licking at the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he brings the wand back to your clit. You shake in his lap, feeling a tad bit overstimulated. His other hand holds your thighs separated, but you still try to close them. The warm muscle of his tongue massages yours, and for a moment, you forget about Mr Kim. You forget about your best friend. You wish to wake up like this every day, admired, praised and consumed by him. Your hands reach into his hair, grabbing at the fluffy strands and anything else they can reach.

"That's so fucking hot. I didn't know how sexy you make out, Hwa."

Park Seonghwa smiles into the kiss, and in that moment, you wished to experience it every day. You wished this wasn't just messing around with your friend's dad. Your feelings for him are growing, and you know them well it's forbidden. But how to tell a heart no?

"You're welcome to come over and try these days," he winks at the screen, then shifts his attention back to you. "And just what do we do with you now? Do I make you cum and stop the fun?"

His thumb caresses your flushed cheek. You have a hard time forming a sentence, and all you can do is breathe into his mouth and look at him. His tongue peeks to wet his lips, doing the same to yours in the process.

"You'd rather shamelessly drip all over my pants like this? You just want my daughter to find out?"

Come to think of it, it's weird that she didn't notice your absence. Maybe she gave up. Maybe she went back to sleep. Whatever it is, you've made it clear to her that this is nothing more than just messing around. No romance involved. Even though your heart feels tight at the last sentence, you pretend like it's nothing. All those things you've thought about while touching yourself late at night are coming to life, and you won't try to stop that in any way.

"Mr Park?"

He hums, fingers fixing your hair and eyes scanning your face with adoration. "Yes, pretty girl?"

"Please fuck me."

"When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?" He says with a chuckle, then glances at the screen.

Mr Kim is sat still, looking at everything unfolding in front of him as if he's watching a movie. Or a porn video. His attention is fixed on your breasts, and you allow yourself another moment of confidence. You cup them, rubbing your nipples and squeezing the soft flesh while throwing your head back.

Mr Kim clicks his tongue, then gets closer to the screen. He rests his elbows on the desk, and his head on his hands. "Hwa, give her a little treat from me."

The older man doesn't waste a single second before licking a stripe over your breast. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves, then proceeds to work his tongue around it. You're squirming in his lap, accidentally stroking him while doing so. He hums into you, the vibrations making you let out the first moan.

"There it is."

You feel so close, but you're too far. Your body is limp, and he hasn't even had you the way he promised yet. As if he could hear your thoughts, Mr Park hooks his fingers under your panties. He grazes over your clit, then pulls the panties down your legs.

"Let's pull a real trick now, kitten."

The man adjusts your body on his lap with ease, and you're too mesmerised by his strength to notice that his cock is at your entrance. It is when he lightly slaps your clit and pulls the belt on your neck that you give him attention.

"Eyes on Hongjoong."

You try to protest, but he grabs your jaw and inserts a finger into your mouth. Your head is now stuck in one position, and you can't avoid Mr Kim's gaze. He has a wicked grin on his face again, and just when you're about to make a stupid remark, Park Seonghwa slowly lifts his hips to enter you. He deliciously fills you up, leaving no space at all. His hot skin is grazing your walls just right, but not yet hitting the spot you need the most.

"Fuck—" he hisses, keeping the slow motions going.

You glance at the corner of the screen, seeing Mr Kim now palming himself through his pants. "You've gotta tell me where you buy these kittens, man."

The man behind you laughs between the moans, but doesn't say anything. He enjoys it as much as you, and isn't bothered to keep any conversations or teasing going. At least you hope so.

He lifts your body up, then moves his hips upwards so that he can move faster. Watching yourself get fucked on the screen by a man your dad's age, while another one watches wasn't quite in your fantasy list. But fuck, you're so happy that it's happening. Your eyes follow Mr Park's cock as it smoothly disappears inside of you, causing you to whine and moan in his arms.

"Think you've teased her enough?"

"Just a bit more." The man whispers, head falling back on the chair and his moves getting sloppy. "Fuck, love, you're gonna make me cum so quick."

You feel like you're dripping all over the place. His cock is soaking up your juices, making wet noises in the process. That, along with his skin hitting yours as he reaches the deepest ends of you, is what will keep you fueled for months. You glance at him through the screen, and you almost cream right there on his cock. Something about fucking in clothes is a huge turn on for you, and seeing Park Seonghwa sprawled out on his chair, with his unbuttoned white shirt and pretty gold jewellery, with his head resting back and eyes rolling from pleasure, with his fingers digging into your skin and hair sticking to his forehead, makes your head spin. You wish to take a picture, and look at it every night just to admire him. His sun kissed chest is exposed more than when you entered the room, and you wish to mark him up so bad. Hopefully, next time.

His hips are going at a slow pace, but deeper than last time. He reaches to all the places inside of you, stroking them all just right. He lifts your body, just to slam it down on his cock and hit your most sensitive spot. A loud moan is halfway out your lips, but he is quick to pull the belt to keep you quiet. He repeats the movements, this time faster and harder.

"Oh, baby," he almost growls under his breath, "making daddy feel so good."

Then, as if something has snapped inside of him, he pushes the chair back and lets it fall back with a thud. His hands push your body down onto the desk, and he grabs your waist like his life depends on it. He adjusts the camera so that Mr Kim can get a clear view of your drooling and flushed face, along with Mr Park's lower body continuously slamming into you. You feel so sensitive, and you haven't orgasmed once yet. Tears form at the corners of your eyes, and you let them fall. You're not sure if you're crying from pleasure or pain, but you didn't want either to stop.

And Park Seonghwa fucking adored it. He adored your face decorated with tears as he took you from behind, forcing you to watch yourself on camera while another stranger is watching you.

"Wish you could see how well you're taking me." He groans. "So fucking good for me."

"Is she taking it like a good girl, Hwa?"

"Oh, she's doing such a good job. Aren't you, love?" He says with a smirk, knowing that you're incapable of speaking.

Your eyes roll back, and you feel like you're going to evaporate. His consistent thrusts are helping you build up the orgasm, and you just know that you're going to cum harder than ever.

"You're fucking her dumb."

"I know. Look at her." Mr Park pulls the belt so that you can lift your head from the desk. Your lips are dry, and you can barely see anymore. Everything is blurry, and you feel nothing but endless pleasure. "Loves being thrown around and used until she cries. Don't you?"

You manage to nod, but quickly go back to moaning and almost drooling all over his desk and keyboard. His hand sneaks towards your clit, toying with it in circles until he has you screaming and almost growling. He is abusing all the sensitive buds on your body he can reach, from you G spot and your clit, to both of your nipples.

"Talk to her, Hwa. Make her speak even though she obviously can't. Make her cry and beg for you."

"Hear that, pretty one? Talk to me. Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?"

You want to kill Mr Kim for giving him the idea of making you talk. All you want to do is cum already. All this teasing is doing you no good. It's becoming addictive, and you just know this won't be the last time.

"Y-you, Sir." You choke out, body still rocking into his.

"Will you take all of my seed like a good girl you are?"

"Fuck, yes, yes, yes—"

"Will you fuck yourself on my cock until you've creamed all over it?"

"Yes, oh fuck, yes—" you groan, moving your hips back so you can fuck yourself on his cock just like he asked you to.

You look at his figure through the screen. His gaze is fixed on the way your tight walls are swallowing him up, and he seems completely mesmerised by it. You use him as you'd use one of those dildos you have saved on a Web shop, milking him just right. His moans are low and the hottest thing you've ever heard in your life. With each minute that passes, his voice becomes lower and much more of a whisper.

His eyes search for yours, and once you lock your gaze with his, you don't let go. You let him fuck you into the desk, with a whole stranger watching. Tears roll down your face, pleasure too intense to take. You groan, moan and whine at each thrust, trying your best to chase your orgasm.

Seeing that you're struggling, he picks you up, only to throw you against the bookshelf. He lifts your leg up, almost resting it on his shoulder. The new angle has you reaching new notes, and he has to stick his fingers into your mouth to keep your noises muffled.

"How cute. Fucking her against the Erotica section."

The shelves shake as Park Seonghwa slams into you, each thrust abusing your G spot so good that you're drooling around his fingers.

"Come on, kitten. Cum on daddy's cock. Milk me dry."

You moan around his fingers, and he takes that as a signal that you're close. He replaces the fingers with his lips, tongue searching for yours only to caress it in the most sensual way ever.

"You close, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes—"

"Come on, just a bit more. Almost there—"

"Fuck, oh fuck, yes—" Your head falls on his shoulder, hands holding onto them for dear life.

"I'm cumming, love, I'm gonna—" his breathing is heavy, and his moans are now getting high pitched," fuck, oh God, baby—"

You squeeze around him, riding out your orgasm as he paints your walls with his seed. You're weak in his arms as he uses you until the end, making you milk him dry just like he asked. He thrusts into you a few more times, slower and more gentle than ever.

His fingers cup your jaw, lifting your head up so that he can look at you. He wipes your tears with his thumb, then inserts it into his mouth. You can't help but laugh at his wicked kink. He isn't moving away from you. Instead, his lips mold into yours softly. He caresses your cheek as he gently sucks on your lip, occasionally grazing it with his tongue.

"Ah, the aftercare. The best part, honestly."

Park Seonghwa smiles into the kiss for the second time that day, making your heart flutter. "Liar," he mumbles.

He pulls away for a moment, eyes searching your face for any sings of discomfort. When he sees none, he rewards you with another kiss, a kiss so light and comforting that for a second, you really thought he could want something more than just fooling around. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer towards you and deepening the kiss. You're mesmerised by the way he kisses. His scent is all over your body, and his tongue is taking care of yours in ways nobody ever knew.

This time you're the one to pull away, trying to catch some air. He rests his forehead on yours, his heavy breathing comforting on your face.

"I think I'm addicted to you."

You're taken aback by his statement. You're unable to move, or say anything. All you can do is watch as his face turns from calm and content to one of worry and fear.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Only sexually?"

Now he is the one who is taken aback. He didn't quite think about it. Sure, he can't wait to see you. He always checks if you're coming in the house with his daughter. He loves seeing you in your bubble when you eat or speak about your newest fandom.

Ah, shit.

"Let's start differently."

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. The man licks his lips, then sighs. "How does dinner this Saturday sound?"

A laugh escapes your lips, and he follows right after. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, then finally speak.

"That's quite formal for someone who is still balls deep inside of me."

A moan of surprise leaves your body as he thrusts into you, more teasingly than sexually. He then proceeds to pull out, making his seed drip down your legs and onto the carpet.

"Want me to try again now?"

"Not necessary," you finally put your leg down from his shoulder, muscles sore from the new position, "I accept the invitation, Mr Park."

He hums, not bothering to correct your addressing. You were hoping you'd get to call him by his first name. Maybe it's too early. Still, it doesn't stop you from constantly thinking about it.

Seonghwa.

How pretty.

♡

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬:

@scardorosht @kitty4hwa @seokjins-condoms  @variety-is-the-joy-of-life  @rkivesofmymemories @ateezzseonghwaa @bangmechann  @dandelion-aj  @rialovesyunho  @ryleleee  @anoooon13

[amarayys]

DRDT episode 13 theory. So.

so i was meant to be making a general episode 13 analysis video. but um. i dont have the energy for that. so what am i gonna do instead? TALK ABOUT TERUKO try find out wtf david is doing in this scene

SO. time to find out what possibly the FRUITIEST look ever from david means!!! disclaimer:

I suck at theories. And formatting. Yipee.

I'm painfully unfunny so excuse any dumbass jokes i make.

I'm going to find any and all excuses to rant abt teruko. be prepared...............

4. I may repeat myself a lot. Forgive me if it sounds really repetative... :( 5. Any points surrounded by - these things - are just things that are unlikely, but I think should still be adressed.

So, the context of these images is Teruko revealing "her secret"; You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them.

(pls excuse the shitty quality.) She has to be either lying or MAYBE unsure about her secret. Here's why: 1. She had a conversation with Whit (and technically charles, but he was just listening in) about her family. She reveals that she's never known her parents and grew up in an orphanage. She did grow up with her biological brother, but he was adopted by another family when Teruko was five, and she says she doesn't remember him much.

2. The wording of the secret is quite specific - You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. Like I've mentioned, she's never known her parents. Even if she *somehow* knew they were dead, why would she blame herself for it? I could see it maybe working in some way, but the next bit disproves it - SIBLINGS. Teruko has only mentioned having one sibling, and this wording is plural. This secret cannot be hers, she only has one brother. - To add on to this

2.5. Maybe one could argue that siblings and parents could be her friends/people she considered family in the orphanage she grew up in. However, the specific wording of parents and siblings, instead of just using the word "family", makes me think otherwise. - Okay, so let's dissect what this means. - I think if maybe she was unaware/TRULY thought that this was her secret, the only point that would support it is 2.5. Maybe she considered people she grew up with in the orphanage her "parents" or siblings", but its just not very likely. While I wouldn't be surprised if Teruko blew up an orphanage or something (/hj) , I think it's a stretch to say this secret is referring to that. - With that out the way, we come to one conclusion - Teruko is lying about secret. "Amari, we know that already, can we move on??????????" yeah yeah whatever i may have just wanted to rant about teruko. MOVING ON. So, what is Teruko's secret? It's pretty wildly agreed upon that Teruko's secret is the one regarding the killing game, which David recieved - "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."

We think that this is Teruko's secret because: 1. She's the only one that fits it smh. /hj 2. The guy at the start of the prologue (who is probably xander but that is a WHOLE other theory you can find here ) mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki (how DARE they) after talking about ending the killing game.

My interpretation of this is that Teruko is the reason the killing game is actually happening, though I doubt she's aware of this/the mastermind (or she could be, idk??). A really good theory that I feel explains what I mean by Teruko causing the KG but not being the mastermind is the time loop theory which is linked here. (accirax i love you for this theory /p) Obviously, this lines up with "The killing game is your fault." 3. David gives her THE LOOK right after she "admits" her secret, which sort of maybe kind of implies that he knows she's lying, which he does, since he has the secret. - As for the remaining secret: Xander's secret (which we assume min recieved) is the one Teruko claimed to have:

"You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Why do I think this? 1. In Xander's bonus video, it is VERY heavily implied that he has survivor's guilt as well as outright confirmed his family is dead. Go check it out for the full context.

2. Xander's secret message on the DRDT tumblr is the definition of survivors guilt. Really self explanatory, huh?

3. XANDER ACTUALLY HAS MORE THAN 1 FUCKING SIBLING. anyway. okay, this is getting a little confusing to remember, so here: Killing game: Teruko's secret, recieved by David. Survivor's guilt: Xander's secret, recieved by Min. (all remaining secrets remain the same.) MOTIVE

So, why would Teruko lie about her secret? I mean, shouldn't she just point it out? And why didn't David point it out? - 1. Teruko is aware that her secret is the killing game one and is lying because she's the mastermind or something. We see her thoughts, so I really doubt it. To further disprove this theory: Teruko has stated like 15 times (/ex) that she doesn't know which secret is hers, due to her having too many secrets. So, yeah, pretty unlikely she knows which secret's hers. Discard this theory. -

2. a) Teruko doesn't know her secret, but knows it's probably bad, and therefore doesn't want to share it, so she lied. Pretty straightforward, really. Now, for the theory that I think is most likely: 3. Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again.

We know that's she's accidentally led the trial in the wrong direction twice now (motive secrets, time of murder) Also, this is the most in character.

As for David: A. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to cause distrust and just generally fuck Teruko over. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. B. David knows her secret, but earlier, he and Teruko made a pact to keep it hidden. However, since he's a little bitch boy (/j), he's going to reveal it anyway, either post trial or in a future daily life. - Just to add on to this point ^ - I know Teruko's protag and we see her thoughts and all, but Kaede happened, so I don't think this is out of the question. - I think the most likely combination is point 3. and point A. : Teruko's lying about her secret to avoid the trial heading off topic. David isn't calling her out because he wants to use it in the future to throw suspicion onto Teruko and cause havoc.

SO. Let's recap! Secrets: Teruko: "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault." Received by David. Xander: "You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Received by Min. Rest remain the same as canon. Why can't Teruko's secret be about her family? 1. Teruko never knew her parents, and never mentions them being dead. 2. Teruko hasn't seen her brother since she was 5, and she never mentions him being dead, just adopted. 3. The wording of the secret refers to siblingS, which is plural. Teruko has only one sibling. 4. The secret fits Xander much better - His secret quote is the defintion of survivors guilt, and his bonus episode heavily implies he has survivors guilt, and it is confirmed his family died in the same bonus episode. Why is Teruko's secret about the killing game?

• The guy at the start of the prologue mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki after talking about ending the killing game. This implies Teruko is the cause of the killing game, whether on purpose or not. Motive for lying: Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to use it in the future to turn everyone against Teruko and just generally cause distrust in the group. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. **btw, just a fun afterthought - i think either whit or charles will eventually point out the conversation regarding teruko's unbringing and how it contradicts her secret - and david will use that opportunity to reveal teruko's secret. ANDDDD that's it! feel free to correct/add on any points you'd like. this took AGES but i had so much fun!!! i love you drdt. (ESPECIALLY TERUKO.)

[pretty-batty]

The First Time

Eddie x Original Female Character Pt 4 of Eldath's Priestess 3273 words

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only!) First time sexual intimacy. Non-penetrative sex (grinding), cunnilingus, description of Eddie's shween, Eddie finds something of Judy's she doesn't want him to. Vibrator use. Mentions of vaginal health. Now on ao3 Want to thank my editor @anakinkshamer. Thank you for all you do, king!

Summary: Spring Break of '84, Judy and Eddie's relationship reaches another peak, if ya know what I mean. Also, Eddie discovers his girlfriend's hidden possession.

Notes: SMUT, BABYYYY! LET'S MAKE THEM BANG.

Judy smiled to herself, remembering how sweetly Eddie asked to touch her. Not anywhere specific mind you, just to touch her in a way that was more than friends, more than flirting, further than a romantic caress. 

His fingers ran up and down her arms, stalling, uncertain how to move forward. Both were somewhat experienced, the occasional hand job or finger blast for a stranger, going down if the lover wanted it. 

But for Eddie, he knew. He knew that if Judy were to remotely touch him, to run her fingers along his jeans, stroke his zipper, he’d cum on contact. Then, for good measure, he’d dive face first between her legs and ensure she was immobile for days. Any pleasure Judy would provide, Eddie would return ten-fold.

But now they just stood there, gazing at each other. Judy had never noticed how close they were in height. Eddie had always been taller, at least in her mind’s eye. The two inches of difference seemed huge before, but not now. A tilt of her chin was all it took to snatch his lips into a gentle kiss.

It deepened without a second thought, Eddie’s jaw opening further and allowing Judy’s face to melt into his. 

Closer. 

The commanding urge they shared was only able to provide single demands. Tongues stroking each other, lips sucking and smacking together until the skin was raw and bruised. At one point, Judy had wrapped her lips around his tongue just enough to suck for a moment. She had always fantasized of doing that, what it would be like to suckle at his pointed tongue when it would dangle past his lips. Judy dreamt of that tongue, and here it was, stroking her own before drawing back in for another kiss. They waddled to her bed, Eddie’s legs hitting the edge, but he refused to go down. 

Not yet.

More. 

Eddie’s grasp moved from her arms, diverging in directions across her back, as one hand ran up to the base of her skull, and the other migrated over the swell of her ass and settled at the meeting of the cheek and the thigh. She was pulled flush against him. Her cold fingers reached beneath his shirt and ran across his upper back. The other hand sliding from his cheek to the side of his neck, her thumb running over his Adam’s apple. The pressure itched in his throat, leading to a sting that made him hiss.

He groaned a muffled “fuuuck” into her wanting mouth, laying back on to the bed, hoisting her thigh up over his hip. Judy, with only one foot on the ground, had no choice but to follow, finally straddling him. His hand-me-down Led Zepplin shirt riding up to expose his midriff to her thin pajama shorts. Damp in the place that mattered, and Eddie felt it.

“Not wearing panties?” He grinned as she rutted herself along his bare abdomen. A warm tug forming below her navel made her whimper. “Do you want me to do the same?” He asked.

Judy’s eyes fluttered shut as she nodded. Eddie was already lifting his hips up, further pushing himself against her. His belt was already loosened, having planned on changing into some sweatpants before Judy had made her proposition. His fingers fumbled with the fly for a second before finally yanking his jeans and boxers to his ankles. Letting his hips fall back on to the bed, Judy landed on him with a thump. Her wet pussy slapped against him,causing her to let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, seeking forgiveness in another kiss.

Judy conceded quickly, who could hold a grudge against him, especially when she felt the slight curve of his shaft align with the crack of her ass. His tip sticky and damp against the fabric, seeping through to her skin. She drew away to sit up, his lips chasing hers before giving up. Eddie’s head flopping back down to the mattress. “You want a pillow?” she asked.

Her voice echoed in his ears, but he was only able to gaze at Judy’s heavy breasts through her romper. She was right there, right against his cock. All he could do was wet his bottom lip and continue to stare in awe.

“Eddie?” Judy repeated, reaching for her pillow. “Eeeeddieeee?” She continued sweetly, “can you hear me?”

He nodded slowly.

“Lift your head, please.”

Eddie leaned forward, his nose and chin gently skimming her breasts. She smiled, a puff of air leaving her nose in amusement as she leaned down, placing the pillow beneath his curls. His face finally rested between her breasts, free from the constraints of a bra like the last time. Eddie let out a delighted hum.

“You gonna put your head down?” She asked.

“No thank you.” His muffled voice vibrated the valley between her breasts.

She laid him back, leaning forward to push him into the pillow. Her lips reached the crown of his head, pressing a gentle kiss before rolling her hips back, and running her ass against his cock. “Then we can’t do anything else.” she teased, a melodic tone in her voice.

He finally settled back, parting from his new favorite place. “That’s not fair.”

Judy lifted off him, allowing his cock to spring up and hit below his navel. From there, with her knees on either side of his hips, she simply hovered her barely covered pussy over him. The fabric soaked and chilled..

They both froze for a moment, a lull hung in the air. Since their first kiss, there had been milestones, moments of clarity, knowing full well that the action they were about to take was going to rupture every norm they had set. But hell, the ache in her thighs and the way Eddie’s breath trembled led her to gently lower herself back down. His cock pressed perfectly along her soaked, clothed slit. They both released their sigh in unison.

“Was wondering how long you’d stay up there.” Eddie smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “ho-ly shit…”

“What do I do?” she asked, leaning down until they were chest to chest.

His hands slid to her hips, rocking her along his length and humming, the tone vibrating his chest and hers, “Let me drive, Judy baby.” Gently, his left hand ghosted up her back and to the base of her neck, bringing her face to rest against his, cheek to cheek. “Just tell me when something feels good or doesn’t.”

“What…like hot or cold?” her lips graced his ear.

“I love that idea.” He purred, “play a little game with me, buttercup.” His grasp moved back to her hips as he continued to rock her along his cock again. The pressure and friction filling Judy’s increasing need, she could feel that telltale tingle hit her clit and spread down her thighs. His childhood nickname for her once again buzzing her core and making her weak.

“Then you’re sooo warm.”  She moaned directly in his ear. Her hips moving on their own, stroking his cock against her folds as her juices soaked completely though her bottoms and coated him. Between every few passes, her hips dipped in a circle and ground harder.

“That’s right baby, chase it. Use me, it’s okay.” Without needing him to guide her anymore, his left hand returned to the back of her head. His right hand was moving right at the base of her spine, holding her closer. His voice hitched as her clit ran over his tip, turning his face to her hair and whimpering, “fuck Judy…”

Judy, finding the right spot for both of them, continued rutting herself up higher, the passes in quicker succession. She let out more desperate whimpers into his ear and pleaded to Eddie, only using his name, breaths coming to her in gasps. Her organs began to twist in that telltale way, leading her to let out a needy moan.

“That’s it.” He repeated, “That’s it, baby. Good girl.” It took everything in his power not to shoot his load. He wanted to make her cum, over and over, then he’d let go. But not yet. He lifted his hips slightly, the pressure against her clit growing.

She could feel her walls clench, her entrance drawing in nothing before the rush of her orgasm passed from her toes to the ends of her hair, leaving a gentle buzz through her bones and skin. She stilled immediately, her body rising and falling with Eddie’s heavy breaths. Sweat sticking his hair and hers to his face, he cradled her as close as he could. All she could do was hum in bliss, breathing in his neck and curls.

“You didn’t cum.” Judy muttered, slightly embarrassed as her juices grew sticky against their unmoving skin.

“I don’t want to.” He answered, quickly kissing her when she sat up slightly, looking confused. “Not yet.”

He grabbed her hips again, guiding her to the head of her bed, continuing until she was on her back. Her pajamas were soaked and cold in the open. Sheepishly, before his wolf-like stare, she started to remove the straps over her shoulders and unfasten the top. 

“Ah.” He raised a finger, stopping her. Slowly, he crawled to her gazing up at her bare legs, sitting between them, on his knees. “May I?”

She nodded, “please, I feel cold.”

He let out a quiet laugh, gently unbuttoning the front of her terry cloth romper. Her breasts spilling out, the straps falling down her arms. “If you dare cover your tits…”

“You’ll what…?” she teased, shrugging the top part of her pajamas off completely, shuffling the rest of the romper off and tossing it on the floor, laying back on her sheets. “Are you gonna eat me, mister big bad wolf?”

Eddie leaned in, a mile wide grin on his face. “I was hoping you’d ask me that.” He dipped forward to kiss her lips, gently suckling at her bottom lip before overtaking her completely. “Wanted to clean you up…taste you…” he whispered between kisses.

“Really?” she asked, skin tingling with anxiety. “I didn’t…like…”

“You think I want you shaved like those porno chicks?” He scoffed gently, pressing a kiss against her blushing cheek. His eyes trailed down following her skin as it creased and folded gently in the lamplight. The plush of her tummy, the light whisps of downy hair over her skin as they darkened further down, soft against his lips as he dove down to meet her pussy. Judy’s eyes fluttered closed upon contact, leaning her head against the headboard with a thump. A sigh leaving her lips, a blast of endorphins shooting up her spine. Bliss.

She ran her fingers through his curls, gently keeping his lips against her. His tongue laving up her entrance and lapping at her clit. The slick of her release replaced by Eddie’s spit as he indulged in his new favorite habit. Lazy and gentle, taking his time. “How are you so…good?” She managed to whimper.

Eddie smirked against her pussy, “what can I say? Got some practice.”

“Keep going…please.” Judy felt a spasm below her navel, the butterflies rising again. “gonna…mmm Eddie…” She was already sensitive from their escapade mere minutes before, so the speed which the orgasm came didn’t surprise her. Like being submerged in a warm bath, the buzz from their place of union radiated through every nerve and held like a secondary pulse to her own. It wasn’t until she felt a cramp shoot up the back of her left thigh and into her ass-cheek that she pushed Eddie from her with a whine.

He pulled back in fear, squeaking out a “what?”

“Cra-mp.” She managed to say, pointing to her ailing limb, “ass craaaaaamp.”

Eddie’s hands stuttered as he attempted to find a way to help her. Uncertain, he wrapped his fingers around her thigh and attempted to rub the muscle. Judy immediately yelped and attempted to pull away. “Wha-what do I do?” He asked.

“I dunno just…haaa!” She quickly clamped her mouth shut to quiet her noises, head bonking back on the headboard. She scooted down the bed, remembering the stretch her aunt had taught her the first time she experienced this pain.

“Uh…o-okay baby, just hold on.” He tried to get off the bed, only to be grabbed by Judy as she lifted her leg up.

“Shoulder. Right here.” She pointed to her knee. “Please Eds.”

He nodded, doing as she said. One knee on the mattress, his body upright, her bare thigh against his bare chest, the underside of her knee against his shoulder. Judy gazed at his deep brown eyes, still wide with alarm. The stretch slowly ebbed the pain away, that or she grew more distracted by the sweat gleaming from his body, causing him to glisten in the lamp light. 

A prince, an angel of old, Adonis himself. 

Her eyes drifted down and down, his cock stood straight out, curving slightly up, tip shining and pink. “Goddamnit.” She sighed, her tongue gently wetting her bottom lip, “is it my turn yet?”

“When your thigh stops hurting…” He smiled deviously, “wanna see something?”

“What?” She smiled back. With a glint in his eye, his abs flexed as his cock rose with each tightening of his muscles. Her eyes widened as she playfully shrieked, wriggling in his grasp, “what was that? That’s black magic!”

“This?” His grip tightened, grin widening as his cock dropped one more time. “It’s all yours, Judy.” He pressed her thigh further back, his cock moving closer to her. His sticky tip kissed her belly as his lips collided with hers. She could still taste herself on his tongue, just a hint. His magic tongue swiped past her teeth, diving in for another flurry of open-mouthed kisses.

Her head was spinning, the lack of oxygen and the two orgasms turned her into a sloppy mess. Giddy, she found her tongue wandering up his cheek for a moment before following down his jaw and right against his pulse point. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed. She knew she was on to something, something she craved “Gimme what I want, Eddie.” She whispered. 

He managed a breathy “fuuuuuuuuuuck” before leaning back and engaging in the awkward dance around each other to switch positions. Judy left her spot, now embarrassingly damp, and sat, legs folded, at the foot of her bed. Eddie where she was.

“Baby, can you get me a scrunchie?” she asked, pointing to the bedside table.

“Can I have one too?” he asked, a light smile on his lips.

“Of course. That’s a benefit of having a girlfriend with long hair.” She watched as he opened the drawer beside him, reaching to feel around. In a split second, she realized that was a bad idea, “Wait!”

It was too late.

She knew by the wide eyes and slowly opening mouth that he had found it.

Her newest purchase. Bought in a state of anxiety. She had used it once and had the hardest and fastest orgasm of her life. Since then, it had been sitting there, clean, unused. She wasn’t ready.

A pink silicone rabbit vibrator.

He pulled it out and held it like an alien object. Fingers around its base, tip straight up, inspecting it giddily. “Is this my competition?”

She sighed, “Eddie.”

“Or my comrade in arms?” He fished out two scrunchies, stacking the two hair ties on the tip of the vibrator, whispering to himself, “your hats, my lord.” He brought the vibrator around and held it to her, like one would hold a bouquet of flowers. “Your favorite color on top.”

She retrieved it, plucking it like a petal before using the indigo band to tie back her hair. Eddie did the same, sighing as the hair from his neck was finally tied up and off the skin. Judy smiled, reaching for her vibrator only to have it be pulled away. “Eddie please?”

“What? You want your toy back?” He teased, dangling it over his head.

“Edward!”

“Edward.” He mimicked her tone, scrunching his nose and frowning as he always did when teasing her, bringing the toy down to his lips. He sniffed the tip for a moment, face dropping to disappointment. “Doesn’t smell like you.”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” she snatched the vibrator out of his hand and put it back, slamming the drawer shut, “I cleaned it.”

His lips curled into a mischievous smile, “do you use it when you think of me?”

Judy huffed, her smile reemerging. “No…”

“Ah, rude” He scoffed, then tilted his head playfully, “Why?”

“Because I came so fast, I didn’t get the chance to think of anything.”

He brought his hands to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You are such…a…weenie.”

“I’m not a weenie.”

“Well, you are what you eat, and you’re about to eat my weenie.”

“Then by that logic you are a massive,” she moved closer, nose to nose, feeling his breath tickling her upper lip “quivering…pussy.”

He laughed quietly, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love that more than you realize. Being a pussy for my sweet, sexy girlfriend’s quivering pussy.”

Their lips met once again, having felt like ages since their last union. Eddie had almost softened completely, but upon tasting her breath on his tongue, his heartbeat quickened, and his cock began to stiffen again.

=

The buzzing stopped, her towels soaked beneath her. She let her vibrator stay inside for a moment, turning to the lamp beside her.

“You still there?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God,” she pulled the vibrator from her, releasing with a pop. “I would have felt like a loser, getting off while you’re doing fantasy hero things.”

“No.”

“So, this whole time you could still hear me?” She asked, “every night? Even when I’d cry myself to sleep?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I refuse to understand morse code. Decoding it would take too much time anyway. This will be different when we rescue you. I have no idea how yet.” Finally, she had the strength to get out of bed, gathering the towels and dawning her robe, “you know the drill.”

“Yes.”

“Stay here while I go pee.”

“No.”

“Edward Munson, you nasty boy!” She laughed, “if you must follow me then don’t be weird.”

“No.”

Judy shook her head, leaving her room as a buzzing followed, tingling against her skin. She had gotten used to the feeling. It no longer brought her the intense prickling fear she had. It was like being in Eddie’s shade, like a tree at her back.

She threw the towels into the hamper, took her time to clean herself and her toy up, and take care of business. Honeymoon cystitis was no joke. Once she and Eddie were an item, she had her first and only run-in with it. She had gotten to the point where she was borderline paranoid about it. Her aunt told her how to prevent it.

“It’s the curse of the cunt. As magnificent as it is, it has drawbacks.” Margie said, cranberry juice in hand. “You know, my first girlfriend…” And she’d trail off about her sapphic adventures. The curiosity had worn off for Judy at this point, having gathered all the owl’s knowledge. 

Besides, all she could think of was Eddie.

Judy returned to her room, slipping into her pajamas. The feeling of her boyfriend pressed against the veil between realities. There was an urgency before, as they both knew what came next.

She snuggled beneath her covers, smiling. 

“See you in a bit, big guy.”

Thank you for reading, my loves! Things are getting going lemme tell ya.

Tag list: @loserboysandlithium

[sunhowler-art]

was inspired by this post to design some hlvrai warrior cats!! i'm honestly shocked it took me 2 years to make a warriors au for it, i love making warriors aus...

some basic info below the cut!

sooo my general idea (it's pretty hazy right now. forgive me) for this au is that songfoot (benrey), nectarbrook (darnold), goldenberry (tommy), galeheart (coomer), scorchtail (bubby), and snakestar (gman) are all from the same clan... i'm between plain ol' thunderclan or a custom clan called mesaclan. i'm probably gonna go with thunderclan because i don't wanna bother with making other clans and lore and stuff LOL. there's some kind of threat outside of the clans that's affecting the environment a la the beavers in arc 4. it's something that starclan definitely caused, whether deliberately or accidentally, i dunno. main point is that snakestar sends songfoot, nectarbrook, goldenberry, galeheart, and scorchtail off on a journey to track down the problem and take care of it. while they're gone, the external threat kills snakestar and he spends all his time being a textbook unhelpful and cryptic starclan cat who just kind of makes things worse. as per a snakestar prophecy, the gang picks up gordon along the way, a kittypet whose owners abandoned her and she's been mostly unsuccessfully fending for herself since. oh and frostpaw (forzen) is part of bloodclan. bloodclan tries and fails to kill the gang, despite frostpaw's best efforts (he kidnapped goldenberry's bird friend, sunny).

some lil character facts and such:

gordon is an ex kittypet. she had a very very cozy and spoiled life up until her twolegs got evicted or something and tossed her out onto the streets. she wasn't out there long before the clan cats found her, and thank god for that, because she sucks at being a survivalist. she is fairly smart though, bringing a fresh perspective and problem solving skills to the group. she is consistently freaked the fuck out by clan cat culture, and the clan cats have fun gaslighting her about it. the only cat who doesn't play along with that is goldenberry, mostly because he doesn't really think its that funny. gordon picks up survival skills from the clan cats fairly quickly, but they still call her soft all the time. classic clan cat anti-kittypet prejudice.

songfoot is the warrior code's biggest fan. not because he really fully believes in its utility, mostly because he loves bossing people around. you can find him stalking around thunderclan camp looking out for anyone doing minor infractions. god forbid you take too much fresh kill from the pile, you'll never hear the end of it. he can't really do much about it though, because snakestar finds him vaguely offputting. his signature stare doesn't help much. his fellow warriors generally like him despite all his strange quirks. songfoot has some kind of starclan-given power a la The Three... my thought is that his vocalizations have supernatural mind-altering properties. it's kinda like sweet voice, but a hiss can make others mad, a purr can make others calm, a screech can stun them, etc. without fail. he's vaguely aware of this power, and he doesn't really use it for things starclan would like him to. he kinda does his own thing.

he's a fairly competent hunter and fighter, but he's generally physically non-confrontational. during battle, he prefers to slink along in the shadows and wait to strike.

during the journey, he loves following gordon along. initially it's because of his deeply embedded distrust of kittypets, but he realizes pretty quickly that he's interested in her in a different sense, one that really frustrates and confuses him... a warrior shouldn't wanna be mates with a kittypet. that's so beyond wrong. he's gotta do everything he can to annoy gordon into leaving the group so he doesn't have to confront his feelings about her (one of these tactics involves him insisting on calling her "gordie," saying it sounds much more suitable for a kittypet). unfortunately for the both of them, that doesn't work. what's worse-- his powers don't seem to work on her for whatever reason. they continue to butt heads for far too long before either of them opens up about how they actually feel. (it takes gordon far longer to admit to herself that she's feeling that way than it does for songfoot, but eventually it clicks for her.)

("song" comes from sweet voice, and "foot" comes from... y'know. but i imagine the in-universe explanation is that he spends a lot of time padding around and watching people. the name from the post that inspired this one-- sweetsong-- is perfect but i didn't wanna copy it. i really like the name songfoot though, i think it's really cute.)

nectarbrook is thunderclan's beloved medicine cat. sweet and silly, she has an affinity for collecting and mixing herbs to create new tinctures. they don't always work exactly how she wants them to, but they never have strictly negative effects, so... not too bad! she spends most of her time on the journey trying and failing to be a mediator, and cowering in fear while everyone else does the scary (and often stupid) work. she's got an intelligence to rival gordon's, and she's one of the only cats gordon fully gets along with.

("nectar" is about the closest warrior cats prefix to "soda," and "brook" just kinda sounds nice as a suffix to nectar. it's another liquid-related word too.)

frostpaw is a bloodclan apprentice. he's well beyond apprentice age, but he's pretty incompetent at warrior duties and such, so it's taking him a while. he just wants to graduate.

i imagine he used to be a cushy kittypet with dreams of being one of those cool cat gang members he sees outside every now and again. he's way in over his head.

("frost" comes from forzen. obviously. i initially envisioned him as a warrior named frostjaw. i don't know why i chose that suffix other than it sounding nice. but then i remembered the "i just wanna graduate" thing, and thought it would be funny to make him an apprentice.)

goldenberry is a highly skilled warrior and one of snakestar's kits. he has a very unassuming demeanor, often appearing clumsy or head-in-the-clouds, but he's one of thunderclan's most precise and deadly fighters. his long windclan-like limbs allow for quick movement. like his father, he strikes like a snake. despite his prowess, he doesn't like fighting at all, and he would much rather hang around camp with his friend songfoot and take care of menial tasks like an apprentice or test out new herb tinctures for nectarbrook. he's very helpful and kind, if not a bit blunt. before snakestar died, he had goldenberry in mind as the next deputy as soon as galeheart finally kicked the bucket. he only didn't make him the deputy in the first place because he was an apprentice at the time.

("golden" comes from tommy's signature yellow, as well as his father's perception of him as highly important. "berry" comes from his general sillyness and his affinity for nectarbrook's various little treats.)

galeheart is a gregarious senior warrior and thunderclan's beloved deputy. despite his small stature, he's incredibly strong and overzealous. he loves his clan to death and he loves fighting even more, often dragging everyone into unnecessary squabbles just for the thrill of it. his loud, booming voice commands everyone's attention. he's quite old and really should be in the elders' den at this point, but his love for the warrior life keeps him going despite it all, and he's still in great shape. snakestar isn't quite so satisfied with galeheart's behavior, but there's not much he can do about that, given everyone else loves galeheart to bits. snakestar partially send him on that journey in hopes he would die already, but he has an unwavering spirit and he can and will outlive snakestar.

galeheart and gordon get along for the most part, but gordon is a little scared of him.

("gale" comes from coomer's general energy. he is a strong gust of wind to me. it also brings to mind the color white, which... is what galeheart is! "heart" also comes from his Vibes, mostly his fighting spirit.)

scorchtail is yet another old coot who should be getting ticks picked off of him by apprentices, but his stubbornness keeps him in his warrior position. he's not even particularly good at being a warrior-- he's cowardly and his battle strategy can best be described as the real life version of button-mashing. still, he's far too prideful to retire to the elders' den. he tends to follow galeheart around, since they grew up together and share similar positions in the clan. he's very antagonistic towards gordon, even moreso than songfoot. he has a special hatred of kittypets, seeing their lifestyle as an embarrassment.

("scorch" comes from bubby's association with fire as well as his sassy disposition, and "tail" comes from the tip of his tail looking burnt.)

snakestar is a starclan cat who was previously thunderclan's leader. he's generally cold and and analytical, and not much of a fighter, preferring to make others do his bidding. this behavior carried over very well to starclan, where he spends all his time being appropriately cryptic and unhelpful. he holds a lot of love for his one son, goldenberry, who he's always watching over. he doesn't care much for his other previous clanmates. he visits gordon in her dreams often to tell her vague things about her "part to play" and how important she is and all that. he arbitrarily decided that she was the subject of a prophecy, for the most part. i like to think starclan just makes shit up for fun. i think maybe one of his ancestors visited gordon when she was a kitten and made some kind of deal with her. i dunno. i'm in the very early stages of this au.

("snake" comes from gman's general vibes, but it's also an allusion to snakes in mythology [particularly abrahamic myth] being sleazy dealmakers with ill intent. before he was a leader, his suffix was "sight," alluding to his tendency to sit back and watch rather than run into battle.)

thanks for reading my long-ass ramblings, if you did! :-P idk if i'll actually do anything with any of this, but it's fun to think about...