#never thought i would be this excited about this show

[uwila-the-harpy]

ID: A Reddit post on r/AITAH (Am I the Asshole?), posted by u/Quirky-Wait-7729, 7 hours ago. AITAH for buying my boyfriend flowers after he mentioned most men only get them when they die? Throwaway for a reason. Okay, so my boyfriend (22M) and I (21F) have been together for about 5 months and it has been good so far, but about a week ago when I was at his apartment he told me that most men only recieve flowers when they're dead, and he then went on a bit of a rant about women not caring as much as men when it comes to their partners and then men want shows of affections to. I honestly took this all as a hint that he wanted flowers, so yesterday I went to Whole Foods and picked out all the flowers I thought he would like and put together a big bouquet for him. I also got him a coffee, some chocolates, and a few other things I thought he would like. I've done things like this before but minus the flowers. I usually put a game pass gift card or a lego set. I feel like this is important because I don't want anyone to think I don't show him affection or get him gifts I definitely do!! So I show up to his apartment with literally the biggest smile. I was so excited for his reaction, but when I gave him the flowers he got a super uncomfortable look on his face and wouldn't touch or kiss me at all. I asked him what was wrong and if he liked the flowers and the just kind of blew up at me saying that the flowers are only for apologizing and that if I cheated on him I needed to tell him right now. I was shocked and started crying because I have never and would never cheat on anyone. He took the flowers to the kitchen and threw them in the trash which honestly felt like a huge punch to the gut. He told me to get out of his apartment and that he didn't have time for cheating bitches (his words) everytime I tried to explain he said he didn't want my excuses and when I'm ready to tell him who the man is then I can talk to him then. But there is not man, I didn't cheat on him, I just thought he wanted flowers. I've never thought of flowers just as an apology. He's never gotten them for me but I just thought he didnt like showing love that way, so I buy them for myself every week. I'm just so confused and hurt by his reaction and I don't know what to do to fix the situation. So am I the asshole for buying him flowers? Do women really only buy flowers as an apology?? I'm so confused.

the way men resent women for having the “”privilege”” of getting shit they don’t even want is so fascinating to me I want to study them in a lab

[stxxrlights]

𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

boy next door!geto who you welcomed so warmly the day he moved into the apartment next to you. helping him carry some his boxes upstairs to his new place which surprisingly, was right nest door to yours.

boy next door!geto who would go out and come back to his apartment the same as you almost everyday. you would head for college while he's going for a run early in the morning. always smiling brightly at you.

boy next door!geto who started engaging in small talk with you, trying to get to know you better. what foods you likes, the type of shows you like, your favourite colour. whatever it is, he's happy to know that about you.

boy next door!geto who let's you play with his white fluffy dog named satoru. he seemed to take quite an interest with you. always jumping and barking excitedly whenever he sees you. and he's not small either. he causes you to fall on the ground as he jumps onto you and licks your face.

boy next door!geto who really enjoys your company and values it a lot. he thinks your and interesting person in general. he mostly asks you to accompany him to the laundry mat because why not.

boy next door!geto who would get you groceries when he sees you ordering takeout for almost an entire week. anything to help out his cute little neighbour since you've been so busy with school.

boy next door!geto who eventually asks for your number. giving excuses like, "i need someone to call incase something happens you know. you're the only one i trust here anyways", he winks playfully at you. but once he does, he's going back into his apartment and silent screaming that you took his number.

boy next door!geto who would invite you on his morning and evening walks when he's walking satoru. claiming since he gets so excited around you, he's gonna have more energy and actually get some exercise. he just loves talking to you about absolute nonsense, often smiling at you as satoru trots happily infront of you.

boy next door!geto who's feelings started to get stronger for you. his heart beating a little faster, his palms getting sweatier and he's stuttering more than usual, which he never does, around you. he doesn't understand, but he likes the way you make him feel.

boy next door!geto who couldn't help but smile whenever you cross his thoughts. he could just be laying on his bed staring at the ceiling and he randomly remembers the stupid joke you told him and the pretty smile on your face. he sighs contentedly and knew he had to make you his.

boy next door!geto who started taking your opinions very seriously. "your hair look grwat in a bun", you commented one day and suddenly, he's hair is almost always styled in a bun.

boy next door!geto who would subtly try to woo you into liking him as much as he likes you. throwing compliments whenever he deemed necessary, making you laugh with his jokes and sometimes buying you things and food and tiny trinkets to get his way into your kind heart.

boy next door!geto who would leave chocolates and other sweets you mentioned liking at your door step in secret. you would always find them after you got back from school. they never failed to make your day and you knew who it was, but you didn't tell him. you infact started liking him a little too

boy next door!geto who meticulously planned the perfect moment to confess to you. asking you to go somewhere with him where you found a picnic table set up as you watched the sunset.

boy next door!geto who could not stop his heart from exploding in his chest when you smiled and laughed and confessed your feelings for him as well. he was at a loss for words. his cheeks dusted pink and he's shaking a little not believing that this is happening. overjoyed, he pulls you in for a big hug. whispering 'i love you' over and over again.

boy next door!geto who feels like the happiest man on earth, to have the most beautiful, gorgeous, kind and absolutely adorable neighbour as his girlfriend, and in the near future...his wife.

comments and reblogs are appreciated

[poisonofthepaint]

total control

after a wild shift, you head back to jack's apartment to hang out like you usually do, but today, something feels different. inspired on the song total control by djo :)

cw: age gap, lots of exposition, kissing, dryhumping briefly, fingering, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, honey,), jack calls reader young lady in a nonsexual way, jack is an old man and it shows, dom!jack, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything

wc: 3.8k

It wasn’t completely unusual to go back to Jack’s apartment with him after a shift. It had become a habit after the PittFest casualty. You had been put in the red zone with Robby, Abbot, and Samira, and you and Jack had hit it off immediately. You flowed together so easily, it made you switch to night shift. The way he taught was more attuned to you than the way Robby taught. All excitement, all thrills, unconventional medicine, doing stuff you probably weren’t exactly ready for, but Jack was standing beside you the whole time. It wasn’t that exciting surgical stuff didn’t happen on the day shift, because it definitely did. But, when your mentor doesn’t have the boss breathing down his neck every hour, you can get away with a few more things. Jack let you do procedures that you had once believed you would only ever read about. Anytime there was something interesting going on, he’d pull you from the bedside of a patient just so you could perform it.  Ellis joked that he was playing favorites, but he didn’t seem to care.

The first night shift you worked after PittFest, he had let you do a REBOA. The patient had fallen onto a wooden fence after a night of drinking, and he came in with the piece of wood still inserted right next to his pelvis. Jack stood at your shoulder, carefully walking you through everything. How to remove the wood, where to place the balloon, how much to fill it up. He described everything that was happening while you performed it. He was huddled behind you, almost whispering it into your ear. To say Walsh was pissed was an understatement, but after that? You never wanted to work while the sun was out again.

Despite the age gap, it had slowly divulged into a friendship rather than a mentorship. Jack was really, really fucking funny. He had always seemed like a hard ass to you when you saw him for the brief transitions from night to day, but on his shift, he was a lot looser, less tense. There had been times you had to step away to gather yourself. It was mostly that he didn’t bullshit people. He once told a disorderly patient that he was going to give him a spanking if he didn’t stop being a jackass to the nurses, and you thought you were going to die. 

You started hanging out after your third week. At first, you would just go out to a diner after. A lot of time all you wanted after a shift was sugar, and you knew the waitress at the small joint. She would fire up the milkshake machine for you, even though it was seven in the morning. Jack gave you shit for it, but you didn’t care. He was more simple, just some scrambled eggs and sausage, maybe a black coffee if it was an especially difficult shift, and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway.

But, you two were drawn together, it was a nice friendship. You trusted him to tell you what to do, and he trusted you to listen. And that was that.

The first time you went to his apartment, you were shocked by how empty it was. He was a simple man, to say the least. A recliner, a nice couch, a huge, mounted flatscreen, and a framed photo of some of his army buddies. Eventually, you convinced him to get a small, fake plant for the corner. He told you no at first, saying he didn’t need decorations, but the next time you came over, you saw a big, fake Monstera in the corner. He mumbled a quick, don’t even say anything, and you kept your mouth shut. 

Hanging out with Jack after work in his apartment made you feel like a guy. He would hand you a beer some days, and turn on the TV. He watched old man shit, like Gold Rush, or American Pickers. You realized this was his equivalent to doomscrolling. It was his way to turn off his brain. At first, you found the hangout a bit strange. But then, you also realized that he probably didn’t know how to hang out with a woman half his age, so he just treated you like he would any of his guy friends, which you found inexplicably endearing. You would hang out for a few hours, talk about the shift, and then head home. 

But today was different. Today, you felt the tension between you two. For the first time, you realized, oh, I might actually like this guy. Not in the friend way, not in the mentor way, but in a crush way. Usually, after a shitty full moon shift, you just wanted to be alone, but not today. All you wanted to do was watch American Pickers, drink his beer– well, drink the type of beer that you liked, that he had started buying for you– and sink into his couch. You realized, you didn’t just want company after this shift, you wanted Jack.

You push off the feeling as you exit the hospital together. Jack doesn’t live far, a fifteen minute walk down the street. It was nice out today, the sun shines down on you, it makes the top of your head feel hot. After the horrible winter, it felt really nice to see the big star again. You let out a content sigh.

“Sometimes I think the sun fixes everything.” you say, the vitamin D seeping into your skin. 

“Why the hell are you on night shift then, kid?”

“Dumb question. Because if I work the day shift, then I can’t be outside while the sun is shining, duh.”

He opens his mouth in a dramatic way, raising his eyebrows, “Wow, you finally made a good point.”

You scoff at him, “Oh, c’mon,”

He looks over at you and gives you a small smirk. Like he knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he does.

“I cannot believe how many people were in tonight with dumb shit. Like, how do you even get a whole wine glass stuck in your foot? Literally, how is that possible?”

Jack shakes his head, “I used to think the full moon shit was a joke, but I don’t know anymore.”

The rest of the walk is quiet. You hadn’t even discussed going back to his apartment, it was just part of routine now. 

When you reach the door, he unlocks it, and swings it open, heading to the fridge first to grab the two cans. 

He settles into his recliner, and you go to your spot on the couch. You notice he folded the blanket you always use. You lay it across your body, and it smells, clean? Like fresh cotton.

“Did you wash this?”

“Yeah, you’re gross after your shift, didn’t want it on my couch.”

You scoff again, appalled at his truthful statement. “You’re one to talk, old man.”

“Old man?”

“You heard me.”

“I’ll tell Robby to put you on day shift if you keep talking like that, young lady.”

You don’t want to admit that the nickname makes your face feel hot, “God, please no, I cannot deal with Gloria.”

He huffs out a laugh, the TV is playing low in the background, the volume almost completely mute. 

“Could you imagine if she saw how we dealt with that patient in chairs?”

“I think we would have to get the crash cart for her.”

He laughs again, and you both settle into silence. You want to talk more, you want to ask him if he feels this too– the pull to each other, like the moon and the tides. But you don’t know how far to push it. You want to do something about this crush, you don’t want to shove it down and let it get worse, and then really have to go back to day shift. But, you’re unsure how Jack feels, if he thinks of you that way, or if he just thinks of you as a young lady, as he put it. 

After a while, when you’re almost drifting into a soft sleep, Jack speaks, “Hey, when that teen came in, and needed to be intubated, you didn’t start until I told you to, why?”

While Jack didn’t bullshit patients, he also didn’t bullshit you. He didn’t believe in biting his tongue, in letting things slide, if he wanted to know something; he asked.

“I don’t know, it’s complicated, and weird.” You didn’t want to admit the truth to yourself, much less to your boss.

“What’s complicated? You’ve done a million intubations. What stopped you?”

“Sometimes I feel, um–” You sneak a look at him and he’s already looking at you, his hands locked on top of his head. You notice his biceps bulging through the t-shirt he’s wearing, and it makes your throat feel dry. You reach for the beer, and take a long sip, needing some liquid courage. “Sometimes, I feel like I can’t do something unless there’s someone guiding me through it. I think that’s why I like learning from you so much. You’re always right behind me, telling me what to do. I know that I know how to intubate, but I’m used to being— told by you, I guess.”

He nods, a signal for you to keep talking. You’re sitting criss-cross now, body facing him. You stare straight down at your hands, twisting your fingers together in anxiousness. 

“I just like to be guided sometimes. Maybe that makes me a bad EM specialist.” You leave out the part where Jack is really the only person you want to tell you what to do. If anyone else had told you to intubate when it was obvious to, you would’ve shot daggers through them. You feel the sudden urge to defend yourself, “I would know what to do if you weren’t there, I really would.”

“I know, that’s why it shocked me that you didn’t start.” Jack says, sitting forward a bit, “It doesn’t make you a bad EM specialist. You’re only in the second year of your residency anyway, you shouldn’t be doing everything by yourself.”

You nod, trusting what he says. “Is that weird?”

“No,” he says, and you swear you see his jaw tick. “No, it’s normal to want to be guided.”

“You’re very good at it.” you blurt out. “At guiding– teaching. I always just want to follow your lead, and do what you tell me.” You laugh; shake your head. “Sorry, I think I’m being weird. Maybe it’s the full moon.”

“Not weird, kid. I’d tell you if it was.” Jack gets up from the recliner and comes and sits next to you. “Can I ask you something else?”

You nod, and he doesn’t talk. He lowers his head so you can see him out of the top of your eyelids. You realize he wants you to look at him, so you do. “It’s your turn to tell me if I’m being weird, okay?”

You don’t move a muscle. Like you might scare him away.

“Does that translate to anywhere else in your life?”

“How do you mean?” You think you know, but you want to be sure.

He tilts his head in a quick flick, like he thinks you’re being obtuse on purpose. “In your personal life, y’like to be told what to do? Like to be— guided?”

“I think.” your voice is as low as the television. “I’ve never really done it, though. Never done it, like that, I mean.”

“You’ve never done it?” He has a small smirk on his face.

You groan and dramatically fall back on the couch, hands covering your face. “Yes, Dr. Abbot, I have done it.” You say, muffled, from the palms pressing into your mouth. 

You sit back up. “Just not in the way you’re asking.” 

“Yeah, because the people you’ve been with don’t know jack shit. I clocked it the first time we worked together, during PittFest.”

“I am not that easy to read.” You say it like it’s a fact.

“I hate to break it to you, honey, but you are.” He places a hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing deep circles, and you think you might combust right there, on his couch. “You followed me the whole night. Not a bad thing, it was nice knowing you were right there, ready to follow, to assist.” 

His words are going in one ear and out the other, all you can focus on is his hand on you. 

“Hey, you with me?” He inquires; reading you again. “I want to make sure this is okay, I can stop right now, and we can act like it never happened, okay?” 

“Yes, it’s okay. More than okay.” You nod, locking eyes with him, so he knows.

“I want to treat you right. I want to turn your brain off, so you aren’t thinking about anything but me. Following my orders, doing exactly what I say. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” 

That’s all it takes for Jack to kiss you. 

He isn’t gentle with it. He kisses you hard, like he’s been waiting years to do it, despite only knowing you for a few months. You have trouble catching up at first. It’s true what you told him, that no one else seems to know how to treat you. It’s not that your other partners were necessarily bad, they just couldn’t read you like Jack can. No one else is able to.

He pushes you gently back onto the couch until you lay flat. His chest presses against yours and it’s comforting, like a weighted blanket. You try not to wriggle your hips too much, not wanting to jump too far ahead, but you can’t help yourself, they press up into his growing bulge and he groans into your mouth. He winds down on you quickly to meet you halfway, the lower halves of your bodies mold together. The friction it’s creating makes you think you could come just like this. It’s all so hot. There’s no other way to describe it. 

Jack groans again, this time in dissatisfaction. His hand comes down fast between your bodies to press you back into the couch, his thumb digs into the spot of skin right next to your hip and you whine, the pressure sending a wave of arousal through your body.

“Not yet, honey.” His tone of voice is a lot kinder than the cruel hand pressing you down.

You feel like you’re in a club with the way your heart is thumping, you can’t help but count the beats of it, taking your own pulse into account. Jack moves away from your mouth to your neck, sloppily trailing kisses all the way down. You can’t believe that you were so close to sleep a few minutes ago, now you feel like you’re running a marathon. 

He gets off of you, fully stands up. You’re out of breath, you try to make a noise of protest but nothing comes out, you stare at the ceiling for a second until he clears his throat.

“Are you sure–”

You jerk your head to look at him, “If you ask me if I want it again, I’m gonna scream.” Jack lets out a low laugh. “I’m just regaining my sanity.” you express.

“The whole point of this is you won’t have any sanity left. C’mon, let’s go to the bedroom.”

You stand and follow him back, you realize you’ve never seen his bedroom until now, and it’s the same as the rest of the apartment. Plain, minimalistic. He has black sheets with a white comforter, and his bed is made perfectly, probably a habit from serving.

You stand awkwardly in front of the bed, twisting your hands in front of you.

“Nervous?” 

You hum in response, keeping your eyes on him.

“You know me, it’s the same as working. Just follow me, do what I tell you, yeah? Just be a good girl.”

The praise goes straight to your legs and you feel your knees wobble a bit.

“Take this off for me.” He tugs on your shirt, “And these too, while you’re at it.” He puts his pointer finger into the top of your pants and swipes in across your stomach, the digit edging on the top of your underwear. If you knew this was going to happen, you might’ve tried to wear better undergarments, but this felt better, in a way; more natural. You knew you didn’t have to play it up for Jack. It was nice that he didn’t need all the fuss, he just needed you.

Obviously, you do what he says, stripping the shirt and pants off. You take your bra off too, letting it fall onto his floor. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head at the sight of your chest. “So beautiful.” Jack says, mostly to himself.

He walks towards you, until his body is pushing you back onto the bed. You sit instead of lay down, eyes staring straight into Jack’s. Sometimes his eye contact intimidated you, but not today, you wanted to catch every slight movement, every small inclination of what to do. His eyes shoot up to the top of the bed and then back at you, and you move yourself up until your head rests on his pillows. You feel loose, like your body has water running through your veins instead of blood. You feel like your limbs have connected to Jack’s mind, ready to do whatever he asks. Your brain feels a bit fuzzy, and all you register is that he’s climbed on top of you again, his eyes staring holes into yours. His shirt is off now, but he keeps his pants on. The vein on his bicep is prominent and it makes your mouth water. 

He places his hands on the sides of your head. His lips ghost over yours, but he pulls away when you reach up to catch them. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you like this. I see how you are with Shen instead of me, how cocky you are, how independent you are. But anytime we’re on a case together, I know you’ll follow my lead. It’s not just about guiding, huh? It’s about me.”

You swallow harshly, knowing he’s right. Knowing that you’re independent when he’s not the one in charge of you. 

“It drives me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Knowing that you only get this docile for me.” One of his hands starts trailing down your body, tracing your curves before it flows to the middle of your stomach. He rests his palm right on top of where you need him most, pressing gently. Your brows furrow, and he smirks. 

He pulls your underwear off with one hand, and you lift your hips to help him. Once they're off, he slips a finger through your folds, feeling the wetness. He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head, eyes still locked to yours.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard that there won’t be anything on your brain after, okay?”

“With your fingers?”

“Is that doubt I hear?”

“No!” You protest. “Sorry, just— usually people care about themselves.”

“I’m not like other people, baby.” He makes a ‘tick’ noise with his tongue. “Thought I made that clear.”

That’s the last thing you hear before he stuffs two fingers in you. His mouth falls open at the same time that yours does. You throw your head back in pleasure, and your hand flies up to grip his arm. Your body writhes below you, like you’re chasing his fingers, making sure they won't stop.

“There you go, just like that.” he says, low, into your ear. “Tell me what you like about this. About us.”

You moan, trying to push out the words through the noises that involuntarily leave your mouth. “I like that you know I want you to take control. I like that you’ll always go to the diner with me, or let me come over when I have a bad shift, even when I can tell you want to be alone.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“I like that you call me sweetheart. Even before this, it’s always made me–god– always made me mad when other people did it. But it’s not condescending from you. I like how you look out for me at work. You can tell when I need a break before I do. I like how your fingers feel inside of me. I like when you take control.”

You pant, the ramblings taking the air out of you. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg and it makes you feel even hotter. Your orgasm is creeping up on you, your stomach tightening into a coil before you know it.

Jack moves quickly, so that he’s sitting on his knees. You wonder briefly if it hurts him to sit like that, but the thought leaves your brain when he brings his other hand onto your clit.

“Jesus Christ, Oh—”

“Not him, all me.” Jack says, cockily. You huff out a laugh before it’s taken over by another moan.

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yes, please Jack.”

“God, you sound so good moaning my name. You’re fucking perfect.”

He picks up the pace, and you can feel the pressure building up behind your clit, your all familiar tell that you’re about to finish.

“Please, I need to come, please.”

“Asking so nicely. Of course you can, Go ahead.”

You preen; zero in on the feeling of your orgasm and let it wash over you. 

“There y’go. Yeah, just like that.” His words barely register in your head. 

It takes you a while to come back down, your brain still a bit fuzzy when you do.

“Good?” Jack asks once you’ve regained your breathing.

“Good.” You answer.

He makes you go to the bathroom before you get too comfortable in bed.

When you lay back down, your head falls harshly on the pillows, your body bouncing the bed lightly. He moves up next to you so that his head is on the headboard. He’s stripped out of his pants now, just his boxers on. He took the prosthetic limb off too, so that he could be more comfortable. He opens his arm and you scoot over to lay your head on his chest. He kisses your forehead, in a soft way. In a way that tells you this will happen again, that it wasn’t a fluke.

“Another question.” He says, softly, just loud enough to stir you from the sleep that was trying to take over your body again.

“Mm?” you reply.

“How long have you felt this way?”

“I think I always have, but last night was the first time that it was really obvious to me. You?”

“Yeah, same, actually. It was always in the back of my head but, wasn’t sure how to make it real until today.”

“Must’ve been that full moon.” you say, groggily.

He pets your head and laughs, “Yeah, must’ve.”

[princesssmars]

thinking some more on this idea of caitvi x high femme reader <3

nsfw. fxfxf relationship + smut. reader is ofc high femme, portrayed as wearing feminine clothes, wearing makeup, etc. switch reader, normally tops but switches caitvi. oral and fingering (cait receiving), mentions of reader and vi receiving.

wc : 2.262

"darling i really don't think we should be- oh, oh..."

"come on, caity, i cant help it, you looked so pretty."

you knew you would be in big trouble for this later, but you knew it would be so worth it.

you loved your girlfriends, truly, you did. there was an unbreakable bond between the three of you after these few years spent loving and crying and laughing together, and each day you woke up feeling like the luckiest woman on the planet.

but sometimes you just loved to push them.

your previous partners had been rather... uncompromising, when it came to your dramatic style. they didn't understand how you managed to wear makeup nearly every day, why you bothered wearing such bright and girly outfits, not to mention the maintenance costs just for your hair.

but when you met caitlyn and violet it just seemed to click. caitlyn had grown up around the upper echelon, already accustomed to the intense grooming and pampering that went into your looks.

vi had seen it done, was used to living around and with people who had to get crafty to upkeep with the latest trends, but she hadn't seen it done to your scale. you could still remember the first time you slept over and the bewildered but curious expression she wore when witnessing your extensive skincare routine and the process of wrapping up your hair for the night.

"you're not exhausted after all that?"

"why, are your propositioning me?"

"well i wasn't but now i am-"

yet no matter what, they remained completely supportive of your lifestyle. they helped move in all of your pink and pastel furniture and knick-knacks into their shared apartment, caitlyn routinely buying you your favorite flowers to decorate the space. you even somehow managed to rope the two of them into attending a pilates class with you, barely holding in your amusement when you returned home, only for the both of them to flop onto the couch.

but as selfish as it sounded, you really loved when they paid for your stuff.

vi had more of a hands-off off at first when it came to your beauty and upkeep, sending you a quick cash-app payment every other week and telling you to 'do whatever it is that makes you always look so pretty, and send me a few photos after'.

you had attempted to include her in the process of it all more, showing her a lost of nail shapes and styles and asking which she thought would look best on you.

"soooo, what do you think?"

"uhhhh...whichever you like best."

"cmon, vi!" you groan, nudging her shoulder with yours.

"alright, alright! then how about...these ones?" her finger points to the screen, hovering above the first shape.

"vi, that's 'natural', that's what my nails already look like!" you groan.

"and they're pretty, just like you are." she presses a comedic and sloppy fat kiss to your cheek, giggling when you squeal about her messing up your makeup.

you decide on your own, hiding your nails after your appointment until you drag her into your bedroom, laying her down on the bed and gently commanding her to stay in place. she's excited at first, cocky smile gracing her face as she watches you remove your clothes, until she spots them.

she never thought of herself as the most possessive person, but seeing your fuschia colored fingers tugging down your panties and dragging them up and down your cunt, your wetness visible even from the other side of the bed.

you wore that nail color often after that, always with the knowledge that it'd end up with vi's face buried in your pussy as your hands gripped onto her hair, begging and thrashing as she kept begging for you to cum just one more time. if you were lucky she'd even let you rub her clit until it was nearly unbearable, the sight of your bright pink nails bringing her to a hot release making it all that more intense.

caitlyn, on the other hand, understood your beauty practices quite well. she had been born and raised in a world where appearances were everything, so she wasn't at all surprised by your constantbeauty and fashion regimens. she would even participate on occasion, both of you helping each other with your daily makeup looks and planning spa days so you could relax together.

and, when she was feeling extra indulgent, she sponsored your extravagant shopping sprees. you could confidently say a fourth of your closet was paid for by your girlfriend, the blue haired woman dismissing your unserious insistence that you could pay for your own things with a wave of her hand, a kiss to your cheek and a firm 'get in the car, love." before you were both off.

but just because she had control over the spending didn't mean she had control over you.

when it came to your sex life, you were definitely a bit of a princess. it wasn't like you didn't enjoy watching your butch and femme fall apart underneath or above you, but when they constantly insisted on bringing you to your peaks first it wad hard to flip the tide over the two of them.

but you had noticed the shift in caitlyn as soon as you woke up, how her long limbs held tighter to you to silently persuade you to stay in bed just a little bit longer, how she stayed shoulder to shoulder with you in the kitchen while she prepared some morning tea for the both of you, and how her face seemed to flush when you asked her to come into the first dressing room with you.

caitlyn was feeling needy, you were feeling horny, and there was a victoria's secret just down the way of the mall. was there a better combination?

"let's go in here, cait. i still need some new bras after a certain someone we know tore some of mine off too roughly."

caitlyn giggled at the memory of your girlfriend ruining your underwear, but you could feel her arm tense under the hold of your hands.

"if you say so, my love. you know i'll buy you whatever you need or want."

"awww you're too sweet to me. but i think i'm gonna need you to come try them on with me."

"you cant be serious."

"please, caity? for me?"

and when your hands came up to either side of her face and brought it down just the slightest bit, standing on your toes so you could press a slow kiss to her lips, you already knew she wouldn't be able to say no.

"well, i suppose if it's what you need..."

it was just too easy. just as easy as it was to pick out some matching bras that you knew would look great on the both of you, and just as easy as it was to sneak caitlyn into your dressing room and get her like this.

"darling please, i don't think i can, f-fuck-"

your response is muffled by your mouth being buried into her cunt, tongue wiggling around inside her hole until her hand is coming down to your head and digging into your hair. for a second, you think about how cute it is that she's having a miniature dilemma about her pleasure, at one moment yanking you away before pushing you right back into her.

you decide to test her by lifting your face away from her pussy, already yearning for her taste to be back in your mouth but settling for licking off the remnants of it that sit around your lips.

"c'mon, caity. aren't you and vi always telling be to 'be good and take it'? what, can dish it but you cant take it?"

a high-pitched whine bubbles out of the brit before she's raising one hand to brush her hair out of her face and the other hand up to her mouth, one knuckle between her teeth as she helplessly tries to muffle her moans lest you both get caught and banned from the store.

your teasing wasn't pulled out of thin air, though. you'd need multiple hands to count the amount of times cait had brushed off your pleads and mewls when she insisted on bringing you to come just five one more time, to be a good girl for her and vi and listen without crying.

it was completly empowering and sent a rush of heat to your head and your cunt to see just how badly she took the roles being reversed.

cait's never been the quickest to bring over the edge, requiring a bit more finesse and care before she had a lengthy and powerful release. neither you nor vi minded it, always delighted to see her shake and bite her lip as she gradually felt the pleasure you'd brought her increase over the span of a beautifully drawn-out minute. but right now, you genuinely needed her to come, because yeah, you really weren't trying to get kicked out of this store before you got to buy your cute new sets.

so you start to work her even harder, gently adding your fingers to the mix as your manicured nails curled and prodded inside of her tight heat. you immediately noticed the shift, how her long legs start to tremble and her breath starts to stutter while still in her chest. in desperation her hand that's not muffling her sounds comes back down to your hair and digs in, pushing you back and forth as she downright fucks your face.

and oh, do you take all of it, tongue sticking out for her to grind into as your eyes look up at her, because if one person loves to lock eyes during sex, it's caitlyn kiramman. you make eye contact as her eyebrows scrunch up and she mindlessly starts nodding since she's unable to whisper out any pleas for you to keep going, like you'd even think of stopping now.

your fingers crook and push against that spot deep inside her, thrusting in and out as your other hand circles at her clit, happy little giggles ringing from your throat when she finally comes in your mouth. she fucks into your mouth harder, eyes squeezing shut as her hand that was in your hair slaps on the door to hold herself up and her orgasm absolutely wrecks her.

it's a beautiful and delightful minute of having your gorgeous girlfriend release and shake as she tries her hardest to be as quiet as possible, ending when she un-gracefully plops down onto the dressing room seat.

you peacefully lick her release off of your fingers, making sure to clean off whatever is left on your face before fixing up your clothes and hair. by the time you finish, you turn to cait, only to see her still looking downright shell-shocked. you giggle when she wistfully blinks up at you as you carefully move some streaks of her navy hair from her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her bitten lips and smiling when she follows your mouth after you pull away.

"you look so pretty all fucked out for me, caity."

she groans, resting her head in your shoulder. "please don't rub it in. you're so...tempting, do you know that? i swear one day you'll be the death of me."

"well i sure hope not, that means i wouldn't get to make you tremble like a leaf for me again."

after a few more teases and helping make sure caitlyn looks and walks presentable enough to leave, you gleefully wrap your hands around her arm and head to the checkout counter, placing the items on the counter and perkily swiping caits card over the reader.

when you return home you feel like you're floating on air, skipping through the doorway before squealing and jumping into vi's arms when you see her standing in the kitchen.

"woah there, muffin. looks like someone had a good day, huh?"

you nod up at her, taking a glance back at cait who totally not suspiciously rushes into the bedroom with your bags still in her hands.

vi raises an eyebrow, looking at your girlfriend's retreating body before turning back to you, waiting for your answer.

and yeah, you could play coy, spare caitlyn the embarrassment, and pretend she was just feeling tired from a long day out shopping. but when the memory of her pretty face looking down at you buried in her cunt runs across your mind again, you decide you'll take your chances.

"caitlyn took me shopping so i ate her out in the dressing room."

vi's staring at you with her mouth agape, at first unbelieving, before she hears a loud accented groan from deeper in the apartment that only confirms your statement. she begins trailing after you when you start to head into the bedroom to take a relaxing bath after such a long day.

"oh, so this is what i miss after passing on your bra shopping? you two better invite me next time, and i mean it. i'll cram all of us in a dressing room if I have to."

[kaliforniahigh]

Hello! I come with angst ideas for Ex Husband!Noah.

So.

For context they’re still married at this point.

Ezra’s school is putting on a show (like an end of the school year or a Christmas show?) and he’s like SUUUPER excited about it.

He’s been practicing his lines every day. He only has a small part but he doesn’t care.

Noah promises he’s going to be there but he’s not home yet when it’s time to leave to head to the school to watch it.

You take your seat and there’s an empty one beside you.

The show starts and Noah still isn’t there.

You can’t help but notice the devastation in Ezra’s face that’s mixed with hope as he watches the door at the back just in case he comes in.

You confront Noah when you’re home.

LOVE YOU! And love this au!

Wow, you really came through with this angst!!! I love this so much. I feel like even though Noah is a great dad, sometimes, parents just slip and end up doing not nice things. I'd say this is definitely something that haunts Noah to this day. Especially because he's had to miss more school plays and events due to his job.

Anyway, here's a little something about how this went down when they were still married. Thanks agains for sending this in <3 Love ya!!!!

Warnings: me not knowing how school plays work lol angst, exwife is a little angry, but things end as well as they can.

WC: 2.5k words. (not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

You were honestly grateful Ezra's school play was happening today. Even though you loved how excited and happy he was about it, getting to hear a play by play on how theater practice is going kind of took a toll on you. You'd never tell him this, though, so you'd just let the kid ramble on for hours on end.

"And that's because he's the tree. Which is unmovable and has no lines. Imagine if he gets a main role one day", Noah pointed out once, as you were laying in bed at the end of the day.

"At least he's dedicated. Main role or not", you said. "I bet he's gonna be the best unmovable tree, though"

"Of course he is. He's my son and we don't do things half assed", you snorted at this because it's absolutely true. Noah went above and beyond even for things with little significance at the and of the day, and you expected your son to be no different.

Right now, you were getting ready to attend the school play. You had dropped off Ezra early at school, so him, the other kids, and the teachers could get everything ready on time, and make sure all the kids were set.

You had agreed with Noah to meet him there, since he had band practice and it would run a little bit late and he wouldn't have time to come home and get ready with you.

It was nearing 6pm and you texted him saying you'd leave in about twenty minutes, and you'd save him a seat beside you for when he arrived.

When you got no answer, you thought it was odd, but didn't dwell on it too much. He must be busy at the moment and couldn't check his phone.

You grabbed your stuff and headed out, texting him on the way to the school once again.

Still no answer.

You waited until you were parked at the school parking lot to call him, instead of texting, but it just went straight to voicemail. You decided to leave him a message.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm already here. Are you on your way? Text me when you can"

Hanging up the phone, you had a strange feeling pooling in your belly, but you pushed it aside. He was gonna be here. He had to be here. Ezra was talking about this school play for weeks, there's no way Noah wouldn't be here for it.

Locking your car, you made your way to the school theater. Finding a place towards the front, you sat down and placed your bag on the seat beside you.

The play would start in about forty minutes, and during that time, you guess you've called Noah more than ten times. At this point, you were getting agitated, a nervousness settled deep in your stomach, and you started to get antsy.

When the lights dimmed, and the music started to play, it dawned on you. Noah wasn't coming.

Trying one more time, and still without success, you decided you wouldn't call him again.

Your mind went a hundred miles a minute, thinking about all of the things that could've happened that would prevent Noah from being here. You even though about the worst case scenarios, but brushed it off as soon as it came to your mind. Bad new traveled fast, and if something had happened to him, you'd surely know by now.

Ezra came into play, his little face poking through a hole in the tree costume, and you smiled when he spotted you in the crowd. You could see his face turn into a frown though, when he noticed his father was not sitting beside you. You just waved at him, trying to act nonchalant.

Throughout the play, you'd be lying to say you were paying attention. You didn't know if you felt anger, concern or disappointment. You guess it was a mixture of all three.

About thirty minutes into the play, you turned your phone brightness all the way down, so people wouldn't notice you on your phone, and decided to text Ruffilo.

You: Hey, Nick. You know where Noah is?

You waited a few minutes for his replay. Heart beating fast.

Ruff: Hey, Y/N.

Ruff: Yeah, we're hanging at Matt's place. I think Noah's phone is dead, though.

Ruff: You wanna talk to him?

You stared at the text messages in complete disbelief. He was hanging at Matt's place? Hanging with his buddies instead of being here for his son?

You'd love to know what excuse he'd come up with.

You: Not really. Just let him know he's missing his son's school play.

You locked your phone, and you could tell the play was about to wrap up, as the main characters delivered the last lines, and in a couple of minutes, everyone was standing up and clapping, as the kids bowed on stage.

You felt your phone vibrate and looked at the screen.

Ruff: Shit.

Shit indeed, you thought to yourself, as you sat down once again to wait for Ezra to come and find you. He just had to take his costume off and change back into his clothes.

It didn't take long before he appeared on the side of the stage, one of the teachers holding his hand as he looked for you. Standing up, you waved, and he came walking towards you as soon as he spot you.

He came walking. Not running, as you expected.

"Where's daddy?", he asked you, as you crouched down to his level. He had a deep frown on his face.

"Hi, baby", you greeted him, smoothing his hair that was growing to be long like his father's. "Daddy got sick, sweetheart. He couldn't be here. I'm sorry"

You hated lying to Ezra, and you didn't do it often at all, if ever. But, this time, you guess it would be better to not tell him the truth, instead of saying his father completely forgot about his school play.

"What does daddy have?", Ezra asked.

"I think it's just a stomach bug, buddy. He'll be fine soon, don't worry", you reassured him, but his demeanor didn't change, or get better.

"Can we go home? I'm tired", he said, reaching his arms up for you, and you picked him up. You couldn't help but notice he was getting too big for you to carry him, and you'd soon had to stop.

"Of course we can", you said, threading your fingers through his hair, as he laid his head down on your shoulder.

You wanted to cry. You hated seeing your son sad.

Walking with him to the parking lot, a bunch of parents were walking to their own cars with their kids, and you greeted some of them on the way, recognizing them as parents from Ezra's class.

Strapping him in his booster seat, you got in the driver's seat yourself and started the drive home.

Observing him through the inside rearview mirror, you noticed that halfway home, Ezra dozed off and took a nap.

There's no way he'd eat something, or take a bath, before going to bed today.

Arriving home, you took him in your arms once again, struggling with the key to the door a little, but finally able to get it open. You walked with him to his bedroom, setting him on his bed, where he sat, rubbing his eyes and looking extra sleepy.

"You wanna eat something?", you asked, and he shook his head no. "A warm bath?", he shook his head no once again. "Ok, then, I know you're tired, so tonight, you can go straight to bed"

Walking towards his dresser, you opened the pajama drawer.

"You want the dinosaur, or the robots pajama?"

"Dinosaur"

You nodded and grabbed the dinosaur pajama and helped him into them, and in no time, he was snuggled under the blanket. You waited a few minutes, until his breaths evened out and you were sure he had fallen asleep.

While you waited, you heard the front door open, so you got up from your spot on the bed, closed the door behind you, and made your way to the living room.

You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Noah locking the door behind him. Turning around to face you, you swear you've never seen a guiltier face in you entire life.

"Y/N...", he started, but you cut him off. Much to his dismay, you had a lot of time to simmer in your anger on the drive back home.

"I honestly don't even wanna look at you right now. Let alone hear whatever stupid excuse you're gonna come up with", you told him, coldness and a tinge of anger seeping into your voice. He can tell you're holding back on him.

"I don't have an excuse", he said, looking down, and when he looked back at you, you could see his watery eyes reflecting in the lights coming from outside the window.

"I don't know if that's better or worse", you pointed out.

"I just", he said, taking a long breath. "I just forgot. I don't know what happened, but I just forgot"

You don't know if you should feel any better about his honesty and the fact that he didn't try to come up with a false reason for not being there.

"You forgot about the play he's been telling us about for the past, I don't know, month?", you question him, incredulous.

"I just forgot, ok? I don't know what else to say", he told you, visibly getting frustrated at the situation and at himself.

"You don't get to be fucking angry and pissy here, alright?", you say, trying not to raise your voice, pointing a finger at him. "You're lucky I'm even giving you the time of day so you can explain yourself"

You don't give him a chance to reply, as you start to make your way to the kitchen to grab your nightly glass of water. You can hear him trailing behind you, though.

"I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to forget about it", his voice was meek and a little shaky.

"It's not me you should be apologizing for. It's your son", you grab your glass of water and start to make your way to your shared bedroom, when you stop in your tracks and turn back to him. "I told him you were sick. So, when he asks, just go with the story"

This time, you disappear down the hallway to your bedroom.

You go through you nighttime routine and Noah doesn't come in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. He knows to give you some space and time when you're angry. Especially when you're angry at him.

You turn off the lamp and slip under the blankets, but sleep doesn't find you so easily. Instead, you toss and turn in bed, and, as you lay there, you slowly start to feel the anger slipping away from your bones.

Tomorrow is gonna be a new day, and you couldn't hold this over his head forever, anyway.

After ten more minutes, the door opens and Noah comes into the bedroom. He quietly does his thing in the bathroom, and changes into his sleep clothes. He doesn't say anything, even though he can tell you're awake.

It's when he lays down in bed with you, that it all comes crashing down.

It starts off with quiet sniffles, that soon turn into full body sobs, as he tries to even out his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes.

You come out of mom mode, and instead, you decide to be the partner he needs right now.

Turning on your side, you wrap your arms around him, and he rests his head on your shoulder, his cries not letting up.

"I'm such a shitty father. How can I fucking forget my son's school play?"

"You're not a shitty father. What happened today wasn't nice, but it doesn't define you as a father", you tell him, honestly, but you can tell it's gonna take more for him to understand that.

"Yes, I am. I try so hard to not fuck up but it happens anyways. Maybe it runs in the family, and you're probably wondering why you even had a kid with me in the first place"

This time, you sit up in bed, and you prompt him to sit up with you. Taking his head in your hands, you make him look you in the eye. His tear-stained face looks back at you, as fresh tears still slip down his cheeks.

"That's something I won't tolerate", you tell him, with a firm, but gentle tone. You needed him to understand this. "I never thought twice about having a baby with you, and I wouldn't think twice about having another one", you said, taking a few seconds for him to comprehend your words. "Again, this does not define you as a father, and, honestly? This is not the only shitty thing that'll happen. We have Ezra's whole life ahead of us, and we're bound to mess up from time to time. But what matters is that we're trying. And we're doing damn well so far"

He's calmed down by now, as he listens to what you're saying. You've always had the ability to ease his nerves, even in situations like this.

"Ezra is so loved by both of us, this was just a little bump on the road, ok?", you asked and he nodded.

"Thank you", he said, voice low and throat raspy from the force of his cries.

"You don't have to thank me. You know I love you forever, right? And we're doing this together"

"I love you so much", he intertwined his hands with yours and kissed the back of your hand. "Can Ezra sleep with us tonight?", he asks and you nod in agreement.

"Go get him. He'll love to see you"

As Noah left the bedroom to get Ezra, you thought over the events of today.

You knew what happened was far from ideal, but like you told Noah, it does not reflect who he is as a father. Besides, shit is bound to happen, and you're sure you're going to mess up as well sometime in the future. It was all about how you decided to handle it. And you handled it like you and Noah always did. Together.

A few minutes later, Noah comes back with a drowsy, but happy looking Ezra in his arms. And, as they both lay down, with the little on in the middle, Ezra turns to you and whispers.

"Daddy's not feeling so great tonight, mommy. So I'll cuddle him with him instead of you, ok?", he asks, and you get a little amused.

"That's fine, baby", you agree, heart swelling with pride at how considerate and kind your son is.

And that's how you fall asleep. Ezra tucked under Noah's arm that is stretched under his son's head, caressing your hair softly, a silent apology, as you look at him, giving a smile and a little nod, telling him you're accepting it.

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[offthebookshelf]

i watched this movie for the first time and it has stuck with me ever since. i decided to have a movie night and wanted to watch something inspiring. i had just ordered Beethoven’s Complete Piano Sonatas Vol. 1 by Heinrich Schenker and was filled with excitement, ready to practice Beethoven on my clanky keyboard. when i saw the title of this movie, with a cover of the actor Adrien Brody looking pleasant, peaceful, wrapped in warm lighting, i didn’t even bother to read the description and just clicked play.

oh. my. goodness. what a damn mistake that was. there i was, comfortable in bed, looking and feeling like a happy stuffed burrito, thinking i was about to enjoy a visual story about a pianist and his life. perhaps i’d see a bit of drama, some loss, some love story. but the focus would be on his passion, his talent, his devotion to his craft. how fucking wrong i was.

*SPOILERS UP AHEAD*

i was thrown right into Warsaw, 1939. the beginning was already nerve-wracking with the bombing that hits Polish State Radio station, where we meet our main protagonist, Wladyslaw Szpilman, a sensible soul with a true talent to play the piano. the Germans have begun their invasion of Poland and it isn’t long after the initial bombing at the radio station that we begin to see the monstrosities the Polish-Jewish people were about to be put through.

i’m going to be completely transparent, i purposely avoid diving too deep into this part of history. it brings me such deep pain and it’s hard for me to understand- i think any and all sane people that are in touch with their humanity- find it hard to understand how did such horrors come to take place? the pain, torture, injustice that human beings were subjected to…shit leaves me speechless.

although this movie was brilliantly filmed (i did take mental notes of the cinematography being that i am a visual artist) it made me regret my ability to submerge myself into a work of fiction and experience it as if though i was really there. this movie pulled me in from the very start and i found myself in fear, in anger, in pain, in hardship, in loss, in all of it with Szpilman.

did i already mention Adrien Brody was absolutely fantastic? i don’t know how he managed this role. i can’t even think straight at the moment, because i am still replaying certain scenes in my mind and i’m still so taken aback by the fact that this is a part of our human history, of our collective conscious. like a stain that we carry, it will never go away.

i’m aware that humanity has been a part of, the cause, and creators of a lot more dark shit, but this time in history is something beyond evil. and to think it was all less than 100 years ago…

my emotions can be easily stirred by these kinds of movies, but truly i was more in shock and locked into survival mode with Szpilman. it wasn’t until Hosenfield showed up that my emotions got the best of me. it breaks my heart that Hosenfield didn’t make it in the end, despite his act of good will.

i want to buy Szpilman’s book, i do wonder if they left out quite a bit for the film. it is 2.5hrs long, but certain parts seemed to be rushed over for the sake of timing.

i wish i could express my thoughts better, but i think the movie is still too fresh on my mind. i often try to focus on the good things, even when a situation is painful and full of injustices. my mind usually goes to “well, at least that is over, now you trust your intuition more, at least you don’t have to go back there or deal with those people/person, at least you still have your head, your heart, working hands, and a mind full of creativity, now you know better” etc. etc. it’s just how i’m wired.

but certain stories…certain knowings don’t come with a silver lining. i would say the best thing that happened is that Szpilman survived it all, and even wrote a book on bis experiences. but truly, what kind of life did he live after the war? waking up to the sound of gunshots, bombs, perhaps still experiencing the ghost of the pain of true hunger and thirst. i wonder how the real Szpilman lived his life after surviving this horrorshow…

he played his piano. he remained a kind and sensible man. he wrote a book. he lived, and he ate, and he drank, and perhaps even loved.

i still don’t know where my mind is at after learning about his story. it’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. you know what i think the saddest part is? that very same evil is still running rampant through some humans. and any second now, something of this nature and caliber can happen.

the morning after watching this film, i found myself in my kitchen, making my morning coffee per usual. i stood looking outside my window, admiring the morning sky and thinking how in that very moment, everything could change. and all my little material things i treasure, could be gone. my comfort, my zone, my little happy place- gone. and instead of facing the arduous decision of whether i want a morning cappuccino or espresso, i could be deciding whether to hide behind a pile of bricks or in a hole in the wall. or pulled out of a line to be shot in the head. or taken to a place away from everything i’ve worked so hard for, away from all i have ever known, to be tortured to death. to be used in inhumane experiments, to be violated and discarded, to be starved until i could no longer walk or talk.

i think i’ll end this here for now. i can’t say i would watch this again, i do appreciate how well they did in bringing Szpilman’s story to the big screen. but the reality of it all, it’s something that will forever feel like my breath has been kicked out of my chest.

The Pianist (2002) dir. Roman Polanski

[obsidianpen]

I'm laughing at this past chapter being the breaking point for some people. I fully understood why he would want to tie her to him, he's entirely selfish in his love, self-sacrifice who? So these chapters have only humanized him for me in a way. But that may be because the bar is on the FLOOR. I am not over the sexual slavery - for some reason that is my line and he crossed it, no soliliquies about how much better the world is for it will change that for me, miss me with those fallacies. He made the CHOICE to enslave and sexually subjugate a group of people, the same group as the woman he claims to love.

Yes, yes, I am not ignorant of Hermione's faults and betrayals, nor of the turmoil and emotional devastation he faced the last 50 years. But we are judged not only by our actions but our intentions. And Tom DESIGNED AND IMPLEMENTED a network of systemic rape, of which the victims are nearly entirely comprised of children ripped from their homes and tossed to purebloods as breeding mules.

It is a testiment to your writing that I bought Hermione "choosing" him in that moment, because only a Hermione Granger desperately in love would be blinded enough to momentarily overlook this failing - this is the same girl who knitted hats to free the house elves. I blame too much time in the cabin...but once the fog lifts and reality sets in, I can only see her growing to hate both Voldemort and herself...

All that to say, you've put your entire readership in quite a moral conundrum. I don't think I'll personally be able to stomach a happy-ish handing for them, but I am excited to read and agonize and moralize with everyone regardless. Thank you for writing ♥️

all true! Though it’s interesting to point out that a big motivating factor for enslaving muggle-borns was that he thought, surely THIS will enrage her, draw her out, cause her to show herself and oppose me?

Voldemort literally spent years doing things with the intention of pissing hermione off, because he thought she was out there somewhere, hiding from him. He grew more and more unhinged as time went on, doing more and more drastic things. Because remember - to him, Hermione was the sort who would stalk him at work because she was mad he sent Abraxas to her with a lil sly message, then attack him in Knockturn alley. So he thought it would be easy. He would announce some new legislation or something, then host ungodly lavish publicized events where he would purposefully leave a loophole in the security because he was certain that hermione would not be able to stand for his terror and would come to oppose him (this both backfired and worked in his favor multiple times, because while hermione never showed up other people who were against his rule did, and he was always so bummed out when he had to deal with some obnoxious revels instead, but at least he was able to get rid of them). Her continued absence drove him to be more conniving, ruthless, and deranged than he ever was in canon, in many ways.

[rekino2114]

A/n:this is incredibly self indulgent but I don't care I had a bad day and my teacher sucks so this is my way to rant and get my revenge (and also I'm just really enjoying writing for the horsemen girls so there's that too)

I was just thinking that 3 of the 4 horsemen of apocalypse, the strongest devils in existence who could destroy and murder basically everything and everyone like it's nothing.........are just normal students. Especially after they met you and abandoned whatever plans they had in mind to stay with you, they just go to class, study and do normal student stuff

So imagine you jokingly saying that you wish your teacher would die and your devil girlfriend taking that 100% seriously

Yoru would definitely be the most excited about it, she's actually been waiting for you to ask her to kill someone for a long time..... murder is kind of her love language.

"Sometimes I just wish my teacher would just drop dead in the middle of class y'know? She's so angry all the time for no reason"

"Which way?"

"Hm?"

"Which way do you wish she would die?"

"I dunno, i wasn't serious anyway"

"Damn you're really making it hard for the hypothetical murderer"

"........I know saying that is definitely not going to change your mind but....can you please not kill her?"

"Why did you assume I was going to?"

"Cause you asked me which way I would like to see her die.......and also I know you"

"It was just a hypothetical"

"Whatever"

The next day your teacher is mysteriously missing and yoru just casually happens to have a new weapon that she shows off to you while smiling

Fami would be confused at first, after all you were the one who showed her how great life was and how valuable human lives were, but she didn't argue at all since well....you were the one to say it

Fami's moral compass is basically "Whatever y/n says is right" you are like the one person (except her sisters......most of the time) that treats her with love and basic respect so she would literally do anything you ask her to do just so you don't leave her (like you'd ever do that) including killing people.....it's not like she wasn't planning mass genocide before she met you anyway

"H-huh r-really?"

"Hehe, that would be nice wouldn't it?"

"....o-ok, I g-guess I c-could try"

"...what?"

"B-but then i-i'll be late for our date tonight, c-can you wait o-one more day please"

"......wait for what?"

".....for her......s-salvation"

"...........were you thinking of killing our teacher?"

".........i-is that not what you wanted?"

"No, it was just a joke"

".....oh........t-then no, i-i would have never t-thought about that......hehe.......eh"

"..................."

"W-wahhhhhhhh!!!! I-i *sniffles* I'm so sorry y/n......p-please don't break up with m-me!"

"I-it's fine fami"

Death will just nod and look at you like you asked her to take out the trash or something

To be honest she already thought about killing her the moment she saw the teacher was being too mean and harsh to you (and because she told her she couldn't eat in class) but never went through with it cause she thought you'd be angry with her if she did that

But now you actively said that you wished she'd die so there's nothing stopping her. She casually continues your conversation while sending falling devil to take care of the teacher

"Maybe we'd even get some days off from that, I doubt that's just magically gonna happen though"

"...................."

"....death, why are you looking at me like that?"

"...did you...not just say you wanted her to die?"

"Well yeah but it was just a joke"

"....................."

".....death what did you do?"

"Sorry, it seems I still don't fully understand human humor"

".....oh my God did you actually just kill her?"

"I could go and see what parts of her remain......I did ask falling to be brutal because she insulted you thought....so it's probably not much"

"...........*sighs* it's.....it's alright, she was awful anyway"

[concretejunglefm]

“I’ve got a party tonight. I want you to be the ‘special entertainment’, if you get my drift.” w sub Noah

you know what I’m thinking? 🫣

- @somebodyels3

BB!! sub!noah being shown off? yes please <3

CW: includes mentions of sub/dom dynamics, use of toys (m receiver), noah's oral fixation, implied future sharing and voyeurism/exhibitionism, cfnm, noah referred to as pup/puppy.

NSFW'ish under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“I’ve got a party tonight. I want you to be the ‘special entertainment,’ if you get my drift,” you say, and Noah’s eyes flicker to yours, heat blooming across his cheeks and reaching the tips of his ears.

“You want me…” he swallows, as though trying to hold back his apparent excitement.

You’ve spoken about it before. How far he’s come from being uncomfortable with the idea of sharing you—or being shared in any way—to now enjoying the thought of being at the center of everyone’s attention, all while his focus remains solely on you.

“Only if you want to,” you assure him, your fingers brushing through his hair, then trail gently down his cheek.

His instinct is immediate. He leans into your touch, seeking the warmth of your palm like a kitten desperate for affection. The sight makes something bloom low in your belly, a feeling that draws a smile to your lips. He’s your sweet boy for a reason, and his receptiveness to even the simplest affection is precisely why.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his voice soft and vulnerable, like he’s confessing a secret desire. His pupils are blown, arousal already coursing through him at the mere suggestion. “I just want to be a good boy for you and show everyone else that I can be. Show them that I’m yours.”

That makes your breath catch. Show them that I’m yours.

Because he is, and part of the reason you’re doing this is exactly that—you want your friends to witness what an obedient sub you have. How devoted he is to you—to your pleasure. Even when it means putting himself on display.

Preparing him for tonight has been an all-day affair; from getting him dressed—or undressed, rather, to fitting him with a soft pink collar and leash, to slipping in the new vibrating tail plug you bought especially for this occasion. You’ve made sure he’ll be on his best behavior—though you’ve never once doubted that he would be.

He’s your prize, your newly trained pup, and tonight, he’s ready to be shown off.

“Do you promise to behave for me, puppy?” you murmur, your breath a warm whisper against the shell of his ear, fingers stroking through his hair with slow, soothing passes.

Anticipation ripples through you. You know he’s both nervous and excited—just as much as you are. You’ve walked him through everything that’s going to happen tonight: your guests, handpicked and invited solely to see him. To marvel over your toy. To witness how obedient he can truly be.

You’ve done nothing but praise him leading up to this moment—the way anyone would with a new pet, and tonight is his moment to shine. A chance for you both to revel in what he’s become.

As the stream of guests begins to file in, your fingers tighten around his leash, keeping him close. He kneels at your feet, right where he belongs.

Each guest is as overdressed as you are—while your sub, Noah, is left wearing nothing but his tail plug and the soft pink collar-and-leash set.

With every greeting, he receives a compliment. Then comes their turn: fingers extended toward him, slipping past his parted lips into his obedient, waiting mouth—the first hole offered to them. Something to soothe the ever-present oral fixation stirring inside him. His eyes glaze over quickly, already beginning to lose focus as the guests find their rhythm, teasing and praising him in equal measure.

Some are gentle, stroking over his tongue like he’s fragile. Others press further, watching his eyes widen as they flirt with the back of his throat. In time, they’ll all find their answer—how good of a pet he really is, and how much he can take before he’s choking, but for now, it’s just soft touches and teasing tongues. A slow unraveling for the night ahead.

[unrelatedwaffle]

i think a lot about this but my thoughts are rambly. i went to many schools growing up for various reasons, so i've experienced a wider range of public school systems than the average american (still a very small n!).

I think I lucked out in high school and the curriculum was challenging and the teachers generally tried to teach critical thinking. But this wasn't necessarily the case in earlier grades, and I definitely did my fair share of whining that I was forced to learn things I would "never use." I remember often feeling frustrated that I had to take classes that didn't interest me, and wished I could unschool or fast forward to college where I could just do only the subjects I liked. I didn't always enjoy class and hated homework and essays. I found it hard to connect the drudgery to knowledge formation at the time.

But as an adult with some advanced degrees and the experience of switching careers into a field I did not naturally excel in, where I was a complete noob who had to learn in a semi-vocational program, I see the value of fundamentals, of "boring" drills or reetitive exercises, and how you really can't do ANYTHING interesting until you get the very basics down. Learning to add and subtract, or algebra, or even calculus, are prerequisites for getting to any sort of math that feels meaningful or exciting. Kind of in the same way that you can't read a French novel without learning verb tenses, or you can't play a great game of tennis without working on your swing.

I remember a German lab instructor in college scoffing at the Americans for wanting learning to be fun. "Learning is not fun, it is serious," he said. Maybe some of it is attitude and culture, the desire to be entertained into knowledge instead of viewing it as mental training, not always stimulating but steadily progressing towards greater and greater feats.

In Japan, when you are a novice at anything, your teachers or mentors make you do painfully boring things like practice the same small cha cha step over and over until it is absolutely perfect before you are allowed to do something more complicated. It seems absurd if you are used to kind of winging it or skipping steps you don't feel like doing so you can do the most interesting stuff. I don't know, I think there can be a happy middle. I think there are ways to make repetitive and rote learning a little more fun (gamification, rewards, progress charts), and lots of work to be done showing students how what they are learning is relevant to a larger picture.

(The podcast Chalk Talk talks a lot about these themes, focused on math education, but the general principle is the same across subjects. And Sold a Story shows how fucked things get when you disrespect the fundamentals of reading).

Kids need to learn through play, and also through imitation. An apprenticeship model works extremely well for human learning, but is expensive and labor intensive to implement. See the books The Gardener and the Carpenter and Bullshit Jobs for more on these themes.

I don't know how to fix everything. I hope people can find a way to retain their natural curiosity even if school is not designed to let students follow their core interests at all times. I think it's a good life skill to know how to do things that are important but not exciting sometimes.

So there's a post going around that I'm not going to engage with because my point is entirely different than what the discussion is covering there...

It's this thread: https://www.tumblr.com/galileosballs/783607164314976256/some-of-the-responses-to-this-have-been-in

(I will not be weighing in on that thread)

Here's the thing about schooling and Kids These Days from the elementary to the college level using generative AI (which is Bad for many reasons; I am not defending it):

School (for the purposes of this discussion, public school in the US because that's the only kind of schooling I personally have extensive experience with) is not designed to promote learning.

Lamentations about the ethics of the students who do this, about how this is devaluating education, about how it's frightening that future doctors etc are cheesing their way through medical school with AI all have their eyes on a particular symptom of a much, much bigger and deeper problem. That problem is ULTIMATELY capitalism, but on the way there it's about pedagogy.

I, from the perspective of not having been beholden to school for many years, can confidently say that I did not learn a single fucking thing in school between fourth grade (age 9; I learned how to do long division) and college (age 18, learned a lot of different things, absolutely none of them particularly relevant to any paid work I've ever had). School was a six to eight hour time sink (plus however long homework took) in my day that actively got in the way of me learning things WHILE piling a bunch of stress and trauma onto me that I had to spend years recovering from.

School, in the US, is designed from the ground up to train children into compliant workers. It's about showing up on time, being willing to follow arbitrary and often unfair rules, doing as one is told by figures of authority, and giving the desired answers to direct questions (while asking as few clarifying questions as possible). Curiosity and creativity are actively punished by public school.

"Does saying things that are true and that you know are true only matter when someone is giving you a little prize for it?" Literally yes, that his how the system is built. Under capitalism, there is no motivation to say true things that are true that you know are true. It is likely, in fact, to get you punished! If you want to change that behavior, YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THE SYSTEM THAT PRODUCES IT.

This quote, in particular, seems to miss the point hugely:

"Some of the responses to this have been, in essence, "well, it's not our fault for being raised in a bad educational system that prioritizes grades over comprehension". And you're right, it's not your fault.

But you freely admit the system is bad. That it values the wrong things.

So why do you limit yourself to only achieving what it values? Do you not aspire to be better than a system you know is wrong? Don't you want to change the world?" with a post script of "the system is bad and that fact absolves me of moral responsibility to be a good person��� is CEO rhetoric frankly"

It should be noted that absolutely no one in the thread has espoused a belief that 'hat fact absolves me of moral responsibility' - they are all talking about ways that the system is rotten from the ground up and needs to be dismantled and rebuilt. Many, many people reblogging the chain are ascribing malice/excuse-making to people who are merely correctly identifying the problem. Explanations are not excuses; sorry that someone taught you that at some point.

No one in that thread has said "I use AI, and think that it's a good and laudable thing to do!" - that is not a position that anyone seems to be holding.

There are a lot of people in that thread who are indignant that anyone is going to college who isn't deeply invested in learning, as if that's the goal that sends people to academia.

We do not live in a world that rewards learning. We live in a world that awards the possession of credentials.

We do not live in a world where people pursue careers because they are inherently important and meaningful to them - they pursue them because they want to survive under capitalism. Most people are not going into healthcare, for example, because they genuinely want to help heal people who are sick or injured; they're doing it because it's a stable career that generated a livable income. I say this as a person who works in healthcare and deals with others working in the field.

"If you're using AI to get through your education you've not fucking earned your qualifications. That AI did."

No one has ever 'earned their qualifications' re: possession of a college degree. They have merely shown a capacity and willingness to jump through the required hoops.

Do you think that you can shame people into not using shortcuts?

I want readers to look at this thread:

which has a much more coherent idea of what the problem is and what can be done about it. I want readers to look into pedagogy; check out these old-ass videos:

And just... just go watch every Ted Talk by Sugata Mitra.

I think we as a society need to be far more honest in what the goals we have are and how they're best achieved. Most of the jobs that people end up spending their lives doing should not be asking for college degrees. Most people do not want or need to go to college. Most people in college, in school at all, are there under duress and the threat of destitution.

I really want people to reblog and reply to this with thier own thoughts - I know that's no longer vogue on tumblr, but I am trying really hard to bring it back. No, the replies will NOT be opened. Fucking reblog it.

[karmacharmeleon18]

I need more of your thoughts on the prequel and sequel 👀👀 please yap away my friend

LMAO and yap away I will!

I'm always excited for sequels, especially because there's SO MUCH we've yet to see about the Moriyamas!!! I need those bitches vanquished, seriously it's not a want, it's a need, and there's simply not enough time left for it in Jean's trilogy

I still think one book might not be enough??? But Nora was clear that #2 Kevin Day only needs 2 books... and since one is a prequel, we are left with only one sequel

I guess TSC3 will set things into motion and they'll be finalized in TQG?

Even if it's just one standalone sequel, I think it's a good idea to have if from Kevin's POV because he has insights on that family no one else has

I really, truly HOPE/WISH/NEED Nora is going in that direction, the "let's take down the Moriyamas" route, and Kevin can reasonably be the key to that

So I'm excited and I would be SUPER disappointed if nothing major happened in that regard

I just see no point in making one standalone sequel from Kevin's POV unless we see the fall of the Moriyamas, you know??? Like, what's the point otherwise?

Nora said she had originally planned a #4 AFTG book from Neil's perspective, about the new freshmen, the game against the dismantled and crumbling Ravens, etc. but then she realized it wasn't needed, there wasn't enough plot for a whole book: the Foxes' story was over

So if we're getting a sequel from a current Fox, there must be a specific reason why

(🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾 PLEASE NORA PLEASE LET THERE BE A REASON 🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾)

If it was a trilogy, I could understand, it means Nora just wants to analyze Kevin's character and give him an arc of some kind; maybe a trilogy set at the same time as AFTG, giving us Kevin's perspective of canon events? Or a sequel trilogy showing how Kevin handles being in the world on his own after graduation? An ex Raven, former Fox, dealing with the real world? Both could work

But a single sequel?

Set right after TSC where criminal trials and Testuji's role are still up in the air?

Titled The Queen's Game?

Come on, the Moriyamas are getting what they deserve, right?

RIGHT?

I really hope/think Nora will use this one sequel book to tie up all the loose ends TSC3 will inevitably leave us with, because there's just not enough time to resolve everything in a trilogy finale

So I'm excited and hopeful and would be EXTREMELY disappointed if we got nothing, no justice, no freedom for our Foxes and Trojans

It would make no sense to me

Like, for example, I'm not particularly interested in reading a book about Kevin joining the Houston Sirens, aka Thea's team, and see their relationship develop. Nora recently made a post trying to "redeem" Thea to an extent, where she acknowledged that canon!Thea did not leave a good impression (but then she makes it all even worse in TSC? Nora, what are you doing?), but I'm just not interested in a KevThea book 🤷🏾‍♀️

It has to be something else

One book... The Queen's Game... The Moriyamas are getting 🔪

That's the only thing that makes sense to me 😭😭

Now...

About the prequel...

I'm terrified.

Like, I straight up don't know if I'll read it.

I'll most likely wait until my friends finish it and can give me a trigger warning list lol (laughing not to cry)

Because Nora undeniably has a fixation, even a fetish, for torture, sexual assault, violence in general

And the only thing worse than a story set in the mind of someone who survived the Nest and is out of it now (Jean, Neil in part) is reading a story SET IN THE NEST

Even if it's from Kevin's POV and he was never assaulted

I just don't trust Nora to be respectful and realistic when it comes to portraying abuse in a cult. She loves exaggerating the violence, in a way that can be triggering for anyone. So I don't know what I'll do.

One thing I'll say tho, it's that Kevin's POV is needed at this point

In 2024 Nora shared her list of favorite Foxes in order and it goes: Neil, Andrew, Kevin (etc.etc.)

And in the tags she said:

WELL NORA TSC AND TGR DIDN'T HELP!!!!

Now we dislike Kevin even more 😭

Because what do you mean he knew Jean was being raped? What do you mean he shrugs it off? What do you mean he was never raped because "they had no reason", implying that Jean gave them a reason to do that, brought it upon himself 🤢?

What do you mean he is the exact same type of arrogant, bossy hypocrite with Jean he is with the Foxes?

You really thought Jean and Jeremy's perspective of him would make us like him more??? And makes us think that you love Kevin???

In what universe?? 😭

A "non-Fox perspective of him" made Kevin look even worse

She really thought TSC would make us see Kevin in a more positive, kinder light???? (same for Thea)

So yeah, if she wants to redeem Kevin, his POV is absolutely needed at this point

Show us Kevin's humanity, his insecurity, his loneliness, make us relate to him, in a way that goes beyond the cowardice and hypocrisy shown in AFTG and TSC

(though considering Nora's track record, she could have Kevin fully say "Jean deserved it" and then be all *shocked Pikachu face* when people still hate him 🙄)

Now, what could The Perfect Court be about?

Riko, obviously

But when?

Are we getting the Riko-Kevin backstory? How they met, grew up together, joined the Nest and survived Tetsuji's abuse by clinging to each other?

How Jean disrupted the fragile balance they had found, how Riko descended into madness once given absolute power over another human?

Is it going to end with Riko shattering Kevin's hand, the ultimate act of fraternal betrayal?

And then fade to black, and the rest is history?

... or is it going to start with Riko breaking Kevin's hand?

Is the whole book going to be about Kevin knocking on Waymack's - his father's - door and joining the Foxes? So a direct prequel to AFTG? With lots of flashbacks about the Nest and Riko's Perfect Court delusions?

Or a mix of both? The first half is Kevin-Riko in the Nest, the second half is the fallout?

I don't know. But I know it's going to be graphic. And I don't think I'm ready

But for the sequel, I am SAT

[catras-breakup-song]

catradora's canon status turns 5 today. i also turn 20 today. 🪅

i've spent an entire quarter of my life, a whopping 25% of it now, loving the center focus of she-ra and what this show teaches us...

it's actually pretty wild for me to think too deeply about. truly, it can't not mean something absolutely special (if i love myself, of course) when that much of a coincidence is actually reality.

this story isn't just a hyperfixation, it's a permanent part of who i am. it's shaped my later teenage years and helped me through hard times consisting of confusion and loneliness. i resonated better with catra & glimmer than any other fictional characters i had known before or would ever know since then. i found the art style soothing to stare at all the time. i appreciated the words of comfort we're supposed to internalize. it's been a consistent source of familiarity when i needed nothing more than to rewatch the same scenes repeatedly.

the online community surrounding western queer animation, and particularly this piece of media, kickstarted my hobby of collecting video edits, up to the thousands, that many talented creators have made, on an external drive. unfortunately i lost that project over the summer last year and it devastated me deeply, however i never stopped keeping track of my favorites and supporting the works i loved as i continued coming across them, such as this one to "the great war" by @somanypetals, which i will never stop recommending to others here ─ you can also go through my tag for this topic if you'd like! in fact, i also got back into video editing myself for the first time since 2021 last month!

additionally, it wouldn't be an authentic CBS post of mine if i didn't highlight how beautiful five by five takes' analysis videos on youtube are to me. their writing is a top-tier heart-wrenching gold mine and i've lost count of how many times i've rewatched through that playlist again and again. if you love this masterpiece as much as i do, you'll do so tenfold here. i still remember watching the first part of the series, "how she-ra gives us hope", when it was brand new, and i love bragging to fellow friends about being one of 5X5T's earliest subscribers from this fandom!

i (sort of but not really, which is a long complicated story on its own), came from the traumatized wave of angry voltron/KL fans. thankfully i didn't struggle with trusting the writers to follow through on the groundwork they laid down because it had only been my first fandom and therefore i hadn't been hurt by queerbaiting multiple times, but i say this because it was a big deal when she-ra's finale showed something on screen that could not be taken away or undone. catra & adora's romance helped me find peace & pride in my lesbian attraction. although i ended up not being homosexual despite failing to realize it for another year, i am still very much sapphic and wouldn't trade that gift for the world!

speaking of which, one of the best things you can find in a partner is the relatability of a common interest that brings out the emotional connection between you. i've seen @bluedandylyon around before, but i got to know xim more closely on the SPOP creative flex discord server after i jumped in activity there about a month and a half ago (and i only started being active on this blog again after creating it in 2022 back in august last year, it's amazing what that did for me). the two of us genuinely could not have clicked better with anyone else and i believe we were always destined to stumble into each other eventually. i don't know why the universe decided that time was to be so recent, but after spending half a decade single it's been very exciting to finally leave that break behind. because of SPOP, i asked them if they wanted to date on lesbian visibility day (april 26) and something within me renewed to make me the happiest i've ever been! 💟

my thoughts are too scattered and unorganized for this to feel like a proper essay of some sort, but i know i needed to get this done in time and i enjoyed it. i can't appreciate enough how much my identity, the core essence of who i am inside, has been shaped by this 50-episode cartoon. a simple love letter could never cover how important this reboot means to so many people, even if mattel still refuses to acknowledge it. ⚔️🌈💖

[sagecallie]

You're so pretty ♡

Modern university AU

Jayce Talis has a huge crush on his classmate. Stars align one day as your usual project partner calls in sick.

[jayce talis x masc!reader]

[nsfw, mdni]

[cw: slow(ish) burn, dry humping, blow job, deepthroating, subby jayce, dom reader, dirty talk, face fucking, praise, masturbation (i mean, almost), frotting, reader has male genitalia, he/him pronouns used for reader]

From the moment Jayce opened his eyes that Tuesday morning, he felt butterflies in his stomach.

He could never really tell if it was more anxiety than excitement, because a part of him wanted to skip the whole day, but an equal part wanted to go so badly.

Hands already beginning to shake, he shut off his 6 AM alarm. He let his hand linger on his phone for an extra second, debating whether or not to email his professors about staying home.

Breathing in a slow, calming breath, he decided against it. He swiftly pulled off his blankets, shuddering at the feeling of cool morning air hitting his bare skin, the comforting warmth of his sheets quickly disappearing.

He hastily jumped up, making his way to the bathroom before he could change his mind.

Yawning, he hopped into the shower to wake him up properly, but also to begin his extensive morning routine.

As soon as the cold water of his shower hit his skin, he could feel his mind clearing up. He quickly wet his entire body before the water would turn warm, gasping at the coldness of it.

Usually he wouldn't start his mornings with a shower, he was more of a night shower person. He preferred sleeping in, showing up to class in sweatpants and yesterday's shirt.

But today was different. Tuesdays were different.

He felt excitement pool in his stomach again, making him shudder.

On Tuesdays, he has a german language class. He didn't really care for learning new languages, but what he did care about was you.

You also took that german class. That was the sole reason Jayce even concidered it, he wasn't even good at languages. Quite the contrary actually, he struggled a lot, having to be tutored constantly. He would spend his nights almost crying at his homework, not to even mention the quizzes. He hated the class with all his heart.

Well, with most of his heart.

He felt the butterflies again as he lathered shampoo in his hair. You were going to be in that class-- the only good, well, great thing about that class.

He finished his shower, moving to the bathroom sink to grab his hairdryer and styling wax.

Every Tuesday, he would spend hours getting ready for school. Showering with his most expensive products, styling his hair, shaving, moisturizing... The whole ordeal.

He desperately wanted to be noticed by you, and if you ever did, he didn't want to risk looking undesirable. He wanted to look put together, like he cared about his appearance. He wanted to look and smell clean, expensive. He wanted to impress you.

To say he had a crush on you would be an understatement.

Would a regular crush have him shaving at 6 in the morning? Studying his face inches apart from his bathroom mirror, plucking away every stray neck hair? Switching out his jewellery twelve times, trying to find the perfect combination?

No. Only you would, and Jayce knew it.

He was so desperately in love with you, borderline obsessed with you. The way you walked, your sense of style, your mannerisms. How you would furrow your eyebrows when you were deep in your thoughts. How you would cross your arms behind your back when you talked to the professors. How you would mouth words when you were typing on the phone.

Had you ever actually talked to him apart from a standard greeting, maybe sometimes noting something about the weather or how annoyed with a group project you were?

No, but Jayce just couldn't help it.

He wasn't actually sure why he liked you the way that he did. Maybe it was your appearance, how you were almost exactly his type. Or maybe it was how kind you were to your classmates, always ready to help anyone who asked a question. Or maybe even your voice, so softly sweet yet confident, almost hypnotic.

Maybe it was all of them. Maybe it was just the fact you were you.

Jayce spent the rest of his morning routine daydreaming.

By 7.50 am, Jayce had already made his way to class and found his seat. His seat was directly behind you, he had made sure of that. He waited anxiously for you to show up, the twisting feeling of excitement in his body, roaring in his chest like thunder. He tapped his fingers, bounced his leg. Ever so often glancing towards the classroom door, hoping to see you coming in.

Finally, you did. Jayce's heart skipped a beat.

Jayce tried to play it cool, quickly averting his gaze before you caught him staring. He looked at his laptop's screen, trying to think of something to type while pretending his ears weren't burning.

You walked leisurely to your seat, put down your bag and sat down.

Without moving his head, Jayce looked up from his screen. You were wearing baggy jeans with a sweater, a simple yet stylish outfit.

Jayce swallowed dryly. How did you manage to look so good each time?

He quietly watched as you pulled out your laptop and books, admiring you. He ever so slightly leaned in, trying to see your face better, catching your attention.

With your hands still inside your bag, you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Hey", you said, giving him a light smile. "Something on my face or something?"

Jayce immediately looked away, feeling embarrassed as hell. He laughed awkwardly, which made him immediately cringe internally.

"No, just wondering if-- uh-- you maybe had an extra pencil? I forgot mine at home", he improvised, trying to seem nonchalant.

He sweated as you shot him a look. He wasn't sure what it meant, and that made him anxious. He nervously bit the inside of his cheek as you went back digging in your bag.

"Here", you said, handing him a pencil.

"Thank you, I promise I'll give it back", Jayce smiled, to which you smiled back before turning to your laptop.

In his mind, Jayce let out a breath of relief. He turned his gaze back to his laptop, placing your pencil next to his pencil case.

His stomach dropped.

Shit, shit shit-- He panicked internally. I had my fucking pencil case on my desk this whole time, god fucking shit--

He glanced back at you. You were busy on your laptop, leaning your head against your hand, your hair falling nicely on your knuckles, not seeming to pay attention to anything but your work.

Jayce's cheeks started burning out of embarrassment. Had you noticed the pencil case? Is that why you gave him that look?

His mind raced a thousand thoughts a minute. Oh my god, he totally thinks I'm a creep, or at the very least fucking stupid.

He spent the rest of the class ruminating over the damn pencil case. So much so, he barely noticed the time go by, causing him to jolt when he suddenly heard you talking to him.

"Y-yes?" He stuttered, blinking rapidly. He noticed other students leaving, quickly glancing at the clock and realizing the class was over. He hurriedly shifted his gaze to you.

"Do you have a partner yet?" You asked, leaning against his desk. Jayce looked bewildered.

"I-- what?" Jayce felt as if he had been struck in the head. Surely he had heard you wrong. Why were you asking him questions like that? You weren't even friends. He felt confused and embarrassed, of course he didn't have a partner. Why would he date anyone else when you were right there, looking into his eyes, god he wanted to kiss you--

"I asked if you had a partner. You know. The group project. Analyzing the texts." You raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh. OHH--

Jayce choked down a little laugh. "Oh, uhh, yeah. Wait no, I mean, no. No I don't have a partner yet", he sputtered nervously.

"Cool. Do you want to do it together? My friend is sick at the moment, so I don't have a partner."

Jayce's heart skipped a beat. The excitement pooled in his stomach again, making his skin feel electrical. He had to really focus not to rip into a massive grin.

"Sure", he said, trying to appear nonchalant. "When do we start?"

You shrugged. "Whenever. It's not due until next week. But I'm free this evening if we want to get started early."

Jayce nodded, his chest feeling like it was about to explode. Butterflies dancing in his stomach.

"That's cool with me. Do you want to meet up at the library?"

"It closes at six, and I'm not free until seven. I was thinking maybe your place or mine. Then there'd be no rush." You ran your fingers through your hair, shifting your weight back from Jayce's desk, putting your hands in your pockets.

"You can come to mine", Jayce blurted out. "I-It's closer. I think."

You chuckled. "Yeah sure. See you at seven?"

"Yeah", Jayce swallowed. "See you at seven."

♡♡♡

Jayce sat nervously on his bed, bouncing his leg out of anxiety. His school supplies were spread out on the floor, waiting for him to scoot down and start working. Write down some notes. Open up a word document. Hell, just turn on his laptop.

But he couldn't move. He felt stuck. Like he was a prisoner waiting to hear his final sentencing.

As the clock crept closer to seven PM, he felt like he could begin to actually sweat.

7.00.

Then, 7.01. 7.02.

Once the clock hit 7.10, Jayce tangled his hands into his hair, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling.

What the fuck am I doing?

He felt ashamed. Ashamed for waiting you like this, like a pathetic creep. It was pathetic, and Jayce knew it. Knew it so well his eyes started stinging, tears threatening to fall.

It caused him to feel even worse.

There he sat, waiting for you, about to cry because he was so eager to have you in his room. Because he was so embarrassed over wanting you to come so badly. And if only you knew, Jayce was sure you would never ever talk to him again. That you'd think he was weird. Pathetic.

Jayce let himself fall down on his bed, his arms spread side-to-side. He stared at his white ceiling, listening to his wall clock tick.

Out of all people, why did you choose him to work on the project with? There were other people in front of you. Plenty of people without partners.

Jayce closed his eyes. He imagined you in his room, you working together. You'd lean over to grab something, giving Jayce a glimpse of your collarbone. You'd lean so close he could smell your cologne. It'd smell woody, spicy. Maybe with a hint of cinnamon. The kind of scent that stayed in his lungs long after you'd leaned back. The kind of scent that made him want things-- Things he would never be brave enough to admit yo your face.

Jayce closed his eyes. He imagined you in his room, working beside him. You’d lean over to grab something, giving him a glimpse of your collarbone. You’d lean close enough for him to smell your cologne: woody, spicy, maybe with a hint of cinnamon. The kind of scent that stayed in his lungs long after you leaned back. The kind of scent that made him want things, things he’d never be brave enough to admit to your face.

Jayce grimaced.

What would you look like on top of him? Would you push your body against his, whisper sweet things in his ear? Or would you hold him down by force, shoving his face into his mattress while you ram into his body?

The thought of you controlling him made Jayce squirm. His entire body felt hot, his dick twitching in his jeans in an effort to get hard.

Jayce knew you'd be there any minute, he knew he shouldn't be imagining things like this. But, fuck, he couldn't help it.

What would you do to him? Would you force him down on his knees, force your cock down his throat, make him take it? Would you moan his name? Would you be vocal, let him know you enjoyed him? Would you fuck him raw and hard, or would you take your time, making him savour every thrust?

Suddenly, Jayce was awoken from his filthy daydreaming by a sound of his doorbell.

He swiftly got up, panicking. He was rock hard. For you.

Embarrassment washed over him like a tsunami. You were right outside his door and he had just spent the last ten minutes fantasizing about you like a fucking pervert. He did a few jumping jacks out of desperation, trying to get his cock to calm down so he could open the door.

You rang the doorbell again, making Jayce whimper.

He decided to accept defeat, pulling his cock up under the waistband of his jeans, pulling his hoodie down on top of it to conceal the bump. As you rang the doorbell a third time, he finally made his way to the door.

"Hey", you greeted him once the door was opened. "I thought I was at the wrong house for a moment. What, were you taking a dump or something?" You chuckled.

Jayce forced out a laugh, slightly shocked by your boldness. "Nah, just couldn't hear the doorbell. Come on in."

As he led you to his room, Jayce seemed very tense. You noticed how he fiddled with the hem of his hoodie as he closed the door, and how he almost stumbled on his own feet making his way to his bed. You cocked an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

It felt as if Jayce was a small bird who hadn't yet noticed you: if you said anything or moved even a fraction of an inch, he would flutter away. It made you feel slightly amused.

You weren't quite sure where Jayce's confidence had disappeared. You'd seen him at school, talking to his friends, and he had always been such a big personality. He would laugh, goof around, overall just be a joy to watch, even from a distance.

"Nice place," you remarked, your eyes drifting over his cluttered floor and half-open textbooks scattered on the bed. "Looks like you're really into this homework thing." You chuckled, testing the waters.

Jayce coughed out a laugh. "I just wanted to have everything ready. You know, for the project."

"Eager to work?" You smiled, letting your bag slide down your arm, lowering it to the floor.

Jayce turned around, his back facing you. There was a clear nervous energy bubbling under the surface, one that you could now pick up on. You tilted your head, curious.

"Yeah, I mean, that's what youre here for, right?" Jayce shrugged, his tone shakier than he'd have hoped.

Relax birdie, I'm not going to kill you, you thought, a slight smirk forming on your face. It became apparent he was nervous about having you there. You just weren't sure why.

You let your gaze wander around the room. It was a little cluttered, yet cozy. Papers stacked on one side of his computer desk, and posters of bands taped to the walls. It looked comfortable, nothing fancy, but it gave you a sense of who Jayce was. A bit disorganized, yet paying attention to detail;  The posters were taped with an equal distance from eachother, and his bedspread matched his curtains. Still, he seemed to be fussing with things unnecessarily, smoothing out the creases in his bedspread and gathering up his textbooks, something you weren't sure was a nervous tic or an attempt to make the place look more tidy.

"I like the posters", you stated, hoping to change the subject and lighten the mood. You saw Jayce's shoulders relax out of the corner of your eye, him turning to face you again.

"Thanks", he smiled, quickly glancing at the posters before turning his gaze back to you. "Took me forever to hang them up."

"I believe you", you responded, sitting down on the floor and crossing your legs. "Love the spacing."

Jayce grinned, sitting down opposite you. "Yeah, I'm kinda particular about some things."

You chuckled, reaching back to your bag, pulling it closer to you. "Should we get started on the analysis?" You asked, rummaging through your bag for your books.

"Oh, right", Jayce said, his voice turning back to slightly shaky. "I gotta confess something."

"What is it?"

"I'm... actually terrible at german", he winced, looking at you apologetically. "I barely pass the assignments. I'm probably the worst partner you could've picked for an analysis."

"Nonsense", you shake your head, smiling. "I know enough german for the both of us, c'mon."

Jayce chuckled in response, hurriedly opening his laptop to conceal his embarrassment. Of course, you just had to be fluent in german. Of course. You hadn't even been there that long, and he already felt like he had been embarrassing himself the whole time.

Normally so self-confident, so sure of himself, his talents, his looks. It all crumbled away slowly the more time you spent with him.

He desperately wanted to be liked by you. To give a good impression.

He felt his head start spinning from all the overthinking.

"Want me to make up a doc?" You asked, not taking off your eyes from your screen, snapping Jayce out of his spiraling.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Jayce nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, yet again trying to play it cool.

You glanced up from your screen, catching the slight flush creeping up his neck. It made you pause for a second, something amused yet soft tugging at the corner of your mouth. You didn’t say anything, just started typing, the soft clicking of your keyboard filling in the silence.

Jayce watched you work for a bit, how smoothly your fingers navigated the keyboard, your eyes darting back and forth between the keycaps and the screen. He could've spent the entire night just looking at you, admiring you.

"How do you do it?" Jayce suddenly asked, before he could stop himself, breaking the silence.

"Do what?" You asked, lifting up your gaze from the screen with a raised eyebrow.

"German. Like seriously. How does one become so good at a language? All the nuances, dialects... I don't understand how you do it." Jayce gave you a slight smile before resting his cheek against his knee, letting his hands fall down around his ankles.

You let out a laugh, surprised over the sudden compliment. "I'm not sure", you shrugged. "I just spent a lot of time alone as a kid, I guess. You pick up hobbies like that when you're by yourself. For me, books and languages were easier than people."

Jayce's smile faded into something softer. Not pity, just something gentle.

"I understand." He spoke in a soft, low voice. "Although for me people were easier. Books, and especially languages though? Not so much."

You let out a small chuckle. "Then why on Earth did you pick german?"

As soon as those words left your lips, Jayce blushed. The warm shade of scarlet spread around his face, giving away his emotions with ease. Your eyes widened with surprise, but you made sure to fix your face before Jayce could notice your sudden expression.

"I don't know", he stuttered, avoiding eye contact. "I guess I just wanted to see if I could do it."

That last sentence hung out in the air longer than expected. Like it had some other meaning you weren't quite sure how to interpret. Maybe you were reading too much into it, you weren't sure.

Wait, no. Could it-- wait.

The sudden realization hit you like a fire truck.

That's why Jayce had been so nervous.

For a moment, you locked eyes with him. It was as if you saw him with an entirely different set of eyes. It all made sense now-- The stuttering, the stumbling. How it all had seemed to have started with you.

You let out a small breath, something raw and unfiltered, something akin to a small 'huh'. Jayce looked up at you, his eyes making him look like a puppy who had just been yelled at.

You weren't blind, nor were you one to bullshit-- Jayce was fucking attractive.

Though it felt as if you had only realized that just now. It made your chest tight, your skin tingle. It's not like Jayce had confessed his love to you, he didn't need to. You felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

"Jayce", you started, your voice soft, careful.

You were approaching the bird.

Jayce sat still. His cheek still against his knee, a deep shade of scarlet continuing to stain his skin. He looked up at you, a sense of yearning conveying from his gaze. How desperately he wanted you, not daring to break the silence that had fallen between you.

Words weren't needed, you knew. You could see it in him, the desperation. The shame.

Fuck me, you thought. Forgive me, Jayce.

You put aside your laptop without looking away from his eyes. You watched as they changed from an expression of surprise to disbelief as you moved in closer. It was almost comical, the way you could see it in his face how he was trying to remember if he'd hit his head and how hard.

You leaned in, closing the space between you two. You pressed a soft, gentle kiss on his lips, with your hand curled under his chin.

Jayce froze for a split second, like his brain had stalled trying to process what was happening. You pressed another, more firm kiss against his mouth, now pressing your body against his, softly pulling his knees open to let you in. He shyly moved his legs, letting your bodyweight push him on his back on the soft carpet.

When you finally pulled away, just an inch or two, your hand still lightly holding his chin, his eyes were wide. Searching. Like he was afraid this wasn’t real.

“Is this--” he started, voice shaking slightly.

You smiled, thumb brushing gently over his lower lip. “It is.”

He blinked. Then laughed softly, the kind that barely made a sound. “You're a good kisser.

You leaned back a little, giving Jayce room to breathe, smiling. You took in the sight, suddenly noticing how beautiful he looked under you. His hair spilling on the carpet, his skin flushed and hot. His chest rising and falling with every breath he took. His hazel eyes, still fixated on you, your face, your body.

"You're so pretty, Jayce." You murmured, softly caressing his jaw and neck with your fingers.

A silence settled between you again, but this time it was warm. Comfortable.

When Jayce finally broke the silence, his voice was quieter. “So… should we still work on that analysis?”

You grinned. “Maybe later.”

And this time, when he smiled, it wasn't a nervous one. It was the smile of someone who had just been given the one thing they desperately needed.

Jayce was still looking at you, afraid to move, afraid the moment might shatter if he did. But you didn’t want slow anymore. Not with the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

So you leaned in again.

This time, it wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t about not scaring the bird anymore, for the bird had already surrendered. The kiss was certain, determined. Jayce responded almost instantly, as if he'd been holding back something, and your kiss had just torn off the shackles. His hands finally moved, brushing against your arm before curling around the back of your neck, pulling you in closer.

The kiss was hotter now, hungrier, Jayce's lips parting slightly against yours. Something small escaped his parted lips, a sound that made something warm twist in your lower stomach. You opened your mouth to slide your tongue in, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging just a little, and the way he let out the smallest moan against your mouth told you he liked it.

You pushed your tongue in deeper, eager to taste him. Your hands still holding him, your cool skin contrasting against his hot body. Something had shifted, you could sense it.

No, you could feel it.

Pressed against your stomach was something stiff. It made your skin flush in return, your body beginning to feel warm. Jayce seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor, pushing his hips up so you could feel him better, desperate for more friction.

"Fuck, Jayce", you moaned into his mouth, slowly sliding your hand down his torso, settling just over his hip bone. The sensation made Jayce shudder, his breath hitching.

You could feel yourself twitch in your pants, your dick stretching out the fabric. You slowly leaned forward, angling yourself just between his legs, and thrusted.

The feeling of your cocks pressing against eachother made Jayce yelp. He instinctively bucked his hips, feeling himself spurt out precum against his boxers. He held on to your neck, as if afraid you would let go and float away.

He still couldn't believe this was real. You, him, in his room, humping against eachother. The mere thought made him twitch, arch his back slightly out of pleasure. Warm, electric ripples washing over him every time you thrusted.

Soft whimpers formed in his throat, he was so focused on the sensation below his belt he almost forgot to respond to your kisses. Almost forgot to breathe.

You pulled back, breaking the kiss. The air in Jayce's room felt cold against your wet lips, and you struggled to keep them off his body.

"Fuck, you turn me on", you murmured. "I can't." You withdrew from him, standing up from the floor, hands twisting in your hair, frustrated and horny.

Jayce's expression shifted to worry, and he quickly stumbled up. "Wait, what?"

You turned around, biting your lip. "I can't, Jayce."

"Why not?"

Jayce felt his stomach twist. Had he done something wrong? His mind started racing. Had he come off too strong?

"I can't, Jayce." You repeated, closing your eyes. "Stop, I mean. If we continue... I won't be able to stop."

Your words made Jayce's skin flush again, his dick painfully straining against the fabric of his jeans, begging to be released. He reached out with his hand, pulling you back in. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand slowly falling to rest on top of your twitching, aching cock.

"When did you hear me say I wanted you to stop?"

You spun around, yanking Jayce against you by his hips. The sudden move made him yelp out in surprise, his surprise soon fading into want.

You kissed him again, wet and sloppy. Practically eating his mouth, you pressed slick, fast kisses at his mouth, so fast he struggled to keep up. Wet sounds filled the room, along with the sounds rising from Jayce's throat, and your fast and ragged breathing.

You wanted him so badly.

"On your knees", you ordered between sloppy kisses. Jayce did as told, kneeling in front of you, looking up at you with eyes dark with lust. He watched as you fumbled with your belt, hurrying to take it off. You gave it one big tug, pulling it free from your belt loops and moved on to your zipper.

He rubbed your thighs, eyes now locked on your bulge, eager to see you bare.

You had barely pulled down your pants when Jayce put his mouth on you, eyes clouded with desire. You threw your head back, twisting your fingers in his dark hair, softly pulling at it.

"Fuck", you panted, feeling Jayce's warm lips wrap around your tip. He slowly sunk his head, his eyes fluttering closed as he took your cock in deeper until it touched the back of his throat.

You slowly moved your hips forward, wanting to feel more of the pleasure that was Jayce's hot, wet mouth. You gasped, tugging at his hair, struggling to hold yourself steady.

Jayce pulled away, his mouth making a soft 'pop' sound. He looked up at you, pupils blown from pleasure.

You held his head still, with the other hand slowly traveling down the side of his face, your thumb grazing over his lips, pressing downward to enter his mouth.

God, he looked beautiful like that.

His skin flushed, his forehead glimmering with a light layer of sweat. His eyes dark with desire, his body trembling with want-- no, need.

The air in the room suddenly felt hotter, the only sounds being Jayce's ragged breath as he kept looking at you. You pressed your thumb deeper, pressing against his tongue, making Jayce's cock twitch behind the fabric.

You pushed your hips forward, pressing your tip against his lips, but pulling away as he tried to take you in his mouth.

"Open your mouth", you slurred, twisting your thumb to open Jayce's mouth wider. You rested your cock on his bottom lip, watching as you dribbled precum in his mouth. The sight of it heightening your desire, you barely being able to control your urge to shove your cock deep down in his throat.

As Jayce felt the warm, slightly salty fluid drip down on his tongue, he couldn't help but moan. You moved your thumb slowly, spreading it across Jayce's tongue as more and more trickled down into his mouth, making your movements slick and audible.

Jayce fluttered his eyes shut, and you decided you had had enough. You placed your hands on either side of his head, anchoring it in place. Before he could react, you thrusted into his mouth, earning a surprised moan from him.

You kept thrusting, feeling your tip hit the back of his throat with every thrust, listening to Jayce moan and gag, huffing and whimpering around your cock.

"Ah, fuuuck", you moaned, your mouth agape, watching as you sunk into his mouth over and over again. "That feels so good baby, I love how you take my cock--"

You felt a buzz on your skin, every thrust sending in a jolt of electricity through you. Jayce's mouth felt so good. You tugged at his hair, angling his head, and shoved your cock down, deep, until you felt his throat give out and your tip slid in.

It felt like a drug, a feeling of pure ecstasy washing over you as Jayce's throat contracted around you. He quickly pulled his head back, gagging and coughing, spit rolling down his chin and pooling on the floor.

Without a word, Jayce opened his mouth again, letting you push back in. You let out a deep, low moan as you moved, your heart pounding.

"You're such a good boy", you murmured, earning a whimper from Jayce. "You like that? You like being called a good boy?"

Jayce nodded, rapidly blinking as you fucked his throat, making his eyes tear up.

"Mhm, baby", you moaned breathlessly. "I love how you take my cock so well, so deep. Your mouth feels so good baby, you're so good. So good."

Jayce shuddered at your words, tears now falling down his cheeks as you kept pounding his mouth, making him gag.

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, watching Jayce struggle around your cock, strings of spit stretching from the sides, making your muscles twitch out of pleasure.

"I want you to touch yourself", you murmured, slowing down to give Jayce the opportunity to unbutton his jeans.

He pulled back, gasping for air. You watched as his chest heaved up and down, how he was out of breath purely from getting fucked in the mouth by you.

He hurriedly unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down his thighs to reveal his aching, dripping cock.

"I want to see it, c'mon."

Jayce leaned back on his knees, spreading his thighs and planting down his hand for support. With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around the base, whimpering out of pleasure.

"I-I can't-- I'll cum", he panted, gently squeezing.

You believed him. You didn't think you'd ever seen a man so desperately hard before, his cock almost purple. You chuckled at the sight of the pathetic man in front of you, desperate for a release.

"Oh yeah? Would you like me to finish you off?"

Jayce snapped his eyes back to you, his gaze practically a plea. "Y-yes, please.."

"On your bed, then", you flicked your head towards the bed, as an order. Jayce swiftly climbed to his bed, laying on his back, spreading his thighs as you kneeled in between them.

Jayce watched eagerly as you adjusted, eyes glimmering with desire. You pressed your hand beside him, the other guiding your cock.

He closed his eyes, fully expecting the pain that would follow you entering him. Instead, he was surprised to feel your wet, slick cock against his.

"Oh my god", Jayce gasped, gripping the sheets. The feeling of velvety skin dragging against his was almost too much for him to handle, he had to really focus not to spill right away.

"That feel good?" You grunted, holding both your cocks in your hand, moving your hips in sync.

"Muh," Jayce slurred, letting his head roll from side, writhing in pleasure, his chest feeling like it was about to explode. His lower stomach felt like it was on fire, and he desperately tried to rock, to hump, to do anything to respond to the immense amount of pleasure.

You pressed down harder, Jayce's spit and your precum making your grinding wet and audible, the sounds of your filthy love-making filling the room.

Jayce couldn't hold it in anymore. He grabbed your wrist and squeezed tightly, his entire body convulsing. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth wide open, choking out a series of desperate, filthy moans. He threw his head back as he felt hot, thick strands of cum splatter on his stomach and chest, running down his shaft and your fingers.

"Ah, shit", you hissed, spreading Jayce's seed on both of your tips with his palm, making Jayce scream out. He bucked his hips desperately, the stimulation sending his already sensitive cock into overdrive. You glanced down, watching as his cum had coated you, providing extra lubrication for your grinding.

Jayce kept twitching, his face bright red, a dew strands of damp hair stuck to his forehead, his body already beginning to tense up.

"W-wait!" Jayce choked out, but it was already too late. He tugged hard at the sheets, arching his back and grabbing everything within arms reach as he came a second time. He screamed, violently thrusting his hips against your cock, trying to make the almost overwhelming pleasure last.

Just as he'd gained enough sanity to become aware of his surroundings again, you grabbed his hand, guiding it to your cock, still hard and red, leaking precum all over Jayce.

Jayce wasn't sure what was hotter, watching your cum-covered cock slide back and forth in his hand, or feel it squelch and twitch as he roughly jerked you off.

"Oh, yes, just like that, good boy", you moaned, thrusting against his hand, your abs convulsing as you neared your orgasm. "Tighter-- oh fuck."

Jayce felt his cock twitch as an attempt to get hard again. He wondered how much more blood could pool to his groin-- he had been harder than he'd ever been. And possibly the hardest he'll ever be.

"Hard-- again?" You moaned, still thrusting, using Jayce's hand to pleasure yourself. "God, I love you. I can't wait to fuck your brains out."

Jayce leaned in forward, pulling you in for a wet kiss. You let him dominate your mouth this time, feeling his tongue sloppily swirl around yours, making something firey twist in your stomach.

"Fuck, Jayce", you gasped between kisses. "I'm gonna-- Fuck--"

"Do it on me," Jayce moaned into the kiss. "I want you to cum on me. Cover me with it."

You nearly bit Jayce's tongue as you shoved hard against his hand, shooting steaming white ropes of cum all over his stomach, mixing into his own just moments earlier. You spasmed against him, your breath ragged against his as he milked out your orgasm.

"Oh my god", you breathed as the last drops dribbled out of you. You took in the sight below you, memorizing every aspect of it.

Jayce, covered in semen, his skin damp from sweat. His cock a screaming red color, hard and twitching, eager to be touched. You bit your lip, your face slowly turning into a grin.

"Aren't you a nasty one", you chuckle, lowering yourself to lie down next to him. "Would you cum a third time?"

"Possibly", Jayce murmured, turning his head to face you. He planted a soft kiss on your lips, his hand travelling up your torso, stopping to caress your nipple.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes to savor it.

There was a long silence, during which both of you took turns caressing, petting eachother, kissing tenderly. You looked into his hazel eyes, now clear, filled with love and longing. You cupped his cheek, pulling him in for a yet another kiss.

"What does this mean?" Jayce asked once you parted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know yet, but we have plenty of time to figure that out."

You pressed another kiss on his lips. Jayce hummed into it, still running his fingers against your skin, making you shudder.

You'd figure it out.

[alicelillianshaw]

'Never been a rule follower,'

Alice stares at Jack with an expression that is very open; somewhere between amused and admiring.

'Don’t fit in with the societal norms. I like to fold my pages,'

A rule-breaker, this one. If Alice were to look at all his books, how many of them would have folded ears? A thought strikes Alice— the idea that making all the documents his staff was passing to him, leaflets and binders and stacks of papers ... maybe those were dog-eared too.

Maybe Jack bent those corners just like he had with this spelling book in grade school.

It makes her face soften.

"Mmm. I tend to like rebels."

It makes Alice want to see his books so badly.

They were a profile, of a person— like if she were to take an average, randomized stack of her father's books?

There's probably by Audobon, of course. Birds of America. And then Whitman. Song of Myself. Silent Spring, too, a few instructional booklets he'd collected across the different parks. And he was fond of weird books, too, so maybe there'd be House of Leaves.

And then Jonah. Books on woodworking— something by one of those mustached guys, from This Old House? She liked her fantasies too. The Poppy War. The Wheel of Time. When they were kids? She'd been fond of The Chronicles of Narnia. Maybe a hastily-bought book on the care of guinea pigs.

Whole lives could be contained in book stacks.

She wondered desperately what Jack's would be. Maybe there'd be something about the ocean.

Maybe Jack would surprise her entirely.

Thankful, she won't have to wonder forever.

'Of course.'

Of course.

'Yeah, I’ll show you sometime. Before New Mexico.'

Relief floods through Alice. Excitement.

Not that she needed more excitement– Alice's pulse still thrummed, and she still had difficulty keep her gaze solely on Jack's face. It's hard not to imagine the weight of him atop of her. How nice it felt.

How was she supposed to sleep tonight?

Alice forces herself to exhale.

"Thank you. I feel like I always tell a lot about people that way."

Jack had expected some sort of scolding from Alice for the mishandling of his books. He never did it with the older copies — but when he was on the short flight from D.C. to Connecticut — well. He wasn’t above cracking the spine of the book and folding the edges of pages for his own comfort. It was convenient.

“Never been a rule follower,” he replied. “Don’t fit in with the societal norms. I like to fold my pages,” he said, matter of factly. He remembered it driving his mother crazy as a kid. She’d spend a good fifteen minutes a day attempting to smooth out his textbook pages, only for Jack to re-fold them the second he was back in his bedroom.

Sometimes, he thought he did things like that directly out of spite. Another flaw. Another thing to feel guilty about, even if a lot of the emotions that Jack felt were … entirely human. It was difficult for him to recognize that.

Jack leaned against the door frame. She was asking to see his books. It was very sweet. Jack had a collection. Nothing too crazy — a few historical books and all of the classics that Jack enjoyed the most. A few that he hadn’t gotten to yet. He hadn’t really felt like reading lately. Most nights, he was too tired. And on the nights that he wasn’t? Reading was the last thing on his mind.

He found Alice’s request endearing. It made him want to read again — to magically breeze through all of the classics that he’d missed just so he could discuss them with her.

Jack swallowed, nodding, forgetting to laugh at her Harry Houdini joke because she’d simply charmed him too much.

“Of course.”

He could take her now, theoretically. He could walk her upstairs to his office — the room that Jack spent most of his time in, but he was still reeling. Still processing what had happened on the couch. Still reliving it in the back of his mind, even though he was trying desperately not to. His skin was still prickling. The embers in his abdomen were on the verge of reigniting at any moment.

He still wanted her, but he really, really didn’t want to distract her. What if he led her to the office and she shared the same favorite book as Jack? What if he couldn’t help but kiss her again, after making her promise she’d provide her editor with an outline? That wasn’t fair.

It was unbelievably unfair, and Jack was determined to discipline himself. When it came to Alice, he had to. Things felt so delicate and fragile and Jack was known to crush those types of things.

“Yeah, I’ll show you sometime. Before New Mexico.”

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

A Rant About Wander

We all know how obsessed/crazy Wander can get if he's not able to help people. It's how he acts in "The Sick Day," but also "The Helper," where we see a glimpse of Wander's heroic, black-and-white personality; the person he is without his core self:

For the first time, we see Wander look at Hater as a bad guy he has to "stop" and he can't believe that, behind all his evil deeds, he's a normal guy just trying to pick up his lunch. A similiar moment happens in "The Wanders," where Wander sees Hater as a heartless evil-doer and says: "I am a good guy, and he is a bad guy, and I stop him!" he's like Brad Starlight It's clear tunnel vision

When Sylvia tells Wander how it's good that people don't need his help all the time, he's curious as to why. Wander's so used to being the nice guy that he wonders why it's a bad thing that he's one to such an obsessive degree.

It's not just that he enjoys helping others or that he empathizes deeply with everyone due to his (unexplored) past; Wander also wants to feel worthy/good about himself. Look at this line from "The Big Job":

Wander feels WORTHLESS when he messes up, he feels worthless when he's not doing anything for other people. His desire to help stems not only from past pain but also feelings of not being good enough and he buries them deep deep DEEP down

As humble as Wander is, he enjoys being seen as a legendary hero because it makes him feel important. See how excited he gets here?

Hero Wander is even a part of him, as we see in "The Wanders"; there's no way he doesn't have savior complex/hero syndrome:

Wander never denies being 'the legend.' On the contrary, as soon as Hank starts describing "The Hero," he figures out he's talking about him and says "Oh, really?" like he's reveling in that fact:

He just goes with the kids' portrayals of him even though they aren't accurate. And he knows. He KNOWS that the Yonder galaxy thinks of both himself and Sylvia as heroes:

"The Family Reunion" shows exactly how well-known Syl and Wan are:

There's also this deleted scene from "The Hole... Lotta Nuthin'" where Wander pretty much reveals that he KNOWS he's very well-known and is being just a tiiiiiiny bit arrogant about it:

When Wander doesn't feel worthless, he acknowledges/ doesn't deny/enjoys being seen as a hero, but when he's down in the dumps, he'll straight up say he's not one, which is what he said in "The Big Job"

Then there's this moment in "The Good Deed" where he's being a show-off:

Wander not only has flaws, but he's actually no stranger to negative emotions either.

In "The Good Deed," he gives in to nihilism:

Wander was ready to drown himself in mud because he thought doing good was pointless in the end, that things will turn bad anyway no matter what he does. I never saw anyone talk about what this scene implies, but it's both really dark and really heartbreaking. WoY actually tackled it with care and a good moral about life, though

He's heartbroken when he thinks his good intentions didn't amount to anything ("The Gift 2: The Giftening"):

He feels hopeless after repeated failure and needs Sylvia to lift his spirits ("The Liar"):

In "The Show Stopper," he's so focused on getting Dominator to notice Hater's concert that he completely forgets to rescue the bunny folk (he probably came back for them later, but the thing about Wander is that when he's hyperfocused on a specific thing or goal, he's HYPERFOCUSED).

In "The Battle Royale," he gets so caught up in getting Hater and Dominator together that he accidentally creates an entire warzone, gets McGuffin fried, and becomes (temporarily) discouraged after he thinks he failed to set the two up (and soften Hater's heart):

And yet, no matter what happens, he always bounces back ("The Flower" shows this best), either with Sylvia's help, or on his own. Season three would have challenged him, though:

In "The Void," Wander is selfish and controlling and only thinks about what he wants to do, and what's interesting is how that was metaphorically shown by having him control Sylvia like she's a puppet:

This episode suggests that a part of Wander, at least subconsciously, sometimes wants control over Sylvia (best seen in "The Tourist," where he constantly neglects her need for rest so he could compete with Trudi). This ties in with another thing I want to talk about, and that's how there's a clue in "The Rider" that Wander didn't have a deep one-on-one friendship with anyone before he befriended Sylvia (even if he had other travel partners). He literally had to consult Frederick about how to handle the falling out between them:

Wander always had acquaintances, strangers he helped, and villains he reformed around him; he probably dated many people, too. But he never bonded with someone who genuinely liked being around him, who cared about his safety and well-being and who'd always have his back. He and Syl are found family siblings to me He's so used to either being by himself and doing whatever he wants or only making casual connections; it's understandable why he'd struggle with thinking about others' feelings at times. Yeah, Wander takes care of people in a practical sense, but intimate relationships where he sometimes has to sacrifice his autonomy are still new to him.

Tl;dr Wander looks silly and shallow but he's such a flawed, deep character when you peel back the layers.

[emtb319]

WIP Wednesday

“I’m trying Lucy, I really am.  That ship should have been out here long ago.”  He didn’t know that Brayman had received his message, and he was carrying it back to Earth.  The code meant to wake the astronauts was misinterpreted by the robot.  “I wish I could see our boys.  You’re still watching over them, right?”  Her star blinked at him.  “Thank you my love.  I’m trying to hold out, but it gets harder and harder with each passing day.  Maybe tracking time was a bad idea.”

It took some time for Jeff to realize how depressed he’d actually become.  One of the first things he did was put the clock away.  He became less and less obsessed and depressed about the passage of time, once he couldn’t see it anymore.

“Remember when Scott broke his arm?  I had just gotten home from one of my moon missions.  He was going on and on about the airplane show and the jumpers.”  Jeff smiled and laughed at the memory.  The house had gone eerily quiet, then they found Scott on the roof with his ‘parachute’.  Before anyone could stop him, Scott jumped off.  His makeshift parachute failed, but he got off easy, with only a broken arm.  It didn’t stop him though.  He would attempt it again 6 months later, but that attempt only resulted in a few bumps and bruises.

“And the first engine that Virgil fixed?”  Grandpa Grant had previously given him some engine parts to take apart, fix, and reassemble.  So, when his Mom complained about a weird noise from the engine, Virgil decided that he could fix it.  “There were parts scattered everywhere.  In just a few short hours, he had more than half of the engine torn apart and scattered around the garage and front yard.  I saw the video of your face.”  He laughed.  Her reaction had been priceless.  “In all fairness though, he did fix the part that made the weird noise, created a few thousand dollars worth of other damage, but he fixed the bad part.”

“John’s perch in the barn.  My favorite telescope had gone ‘missing’, and I was going absolutely crazy trying to find the thing.”  Gordon kept pointing outside, and Jeff and Lucy thought that he was asking to play in the sandbox, but they couldn’t watch him while they searched.  In the end Gordon dragged Scott out to the barn and pointed at the roof.  John had done a pretty good job with his perch and had their father’s telescope set up.  He was buried deep in his star charts and books.  “He wanted to see the meteor shower up close.  I swear, he would have snuck aboard my rocket, if he could.”  Jeff fell into a state of giggles.  “Seeing him up there, I couldn’t be mad.”

“And Gordon’s first aquarium.  He was so upset that his little carnival fish died when he tried to keep it in that little container.  He cried so much that night.”  The nearest store that sold decent aquariums was about an hour away, but it was totally worth it.  Jeff told him that morning that they were going on a special trip together, and Gordon just sulked while Jeff tied his shoes.  His eyes lit up when they entered the store.  Jeff had already decided on the size, and he let Gordon work with the salesperson for the rest.  A few days later, it was delivered.  Every person that came into our home for the next 6 months got his grand tour of his aquarium.

“Alan’s first trip to one of my launches.  I don’t know what was worse, Lee realizing that he lost Alan, or Lee nearly having a heart attack when he found Alan.”  Alan was a very excited toddler.  He was never allowed to visit his dad at work, but today not only was he allowed to visit, but he was allowed to see his father’s rocket up close, and would see it launch in a few days.  It was all he could talk about.  When they were shown around, Alan had gotten upset that he wasn’t allowed to get into it and sit in the cockpit.  So, when Uncle Lee was on babysitting duty, he slipped away.  Lee would later find him in the cockpit, seatbelt properly placed, playing with the launch controls, which he had managed to turn on.  Hence, the near heart attack.  Alan was less than thrilled when Lee picked him up and took him back to his brothers.  NASA was surprisingly not upset over it, and even invited Alan to come back to help them beef up their security.

“I just want to see them one more time, but I suppose I will get that chance when I join you Luce.”