#new trek positivity

[bardicious]

No, actually Star Trek SNW is good. Sorry you hate fun.

[friendlycursedspaceotter]

saw another post and couldn't help but make this

[poebrey]

turns out all of the Spock and Tilly bestie truthers in the Disco fandom were prophetic

[mai-komagata]

so when kirk and una are dancing

I thought she was leading the dance the entire way through, but she leads at the beginning and once kirk "gets it" he is leading. What a nice way to show "im learning" via choreography.

[laney-rockin]

As a white-passing mixed race indigenous person I remember as a kid going up to teachers and telling them with smiles that I was indigenous and having them go "you don't look native."

Now with that rememberance I also remember my father coming down to my level to warn me who I tell that tidbit about myself to because they'll always treat me/look at me differently because of it.

Why do I share this you ask?

IMAGINE SPOCK GOING THROUGH THAT AS A KID.

Just tiny Spock going up to people proclaiming he's human and people on Vulcan saying he's illogical and that he does share characteristics/mannerisms/the same biology as humans.

Imagine Amanda pulling him aside and telling him he should be more careful with showing off his human side for fear of persecution/exclusion by his peers. Imagine Amanda fearing for her son's bright future.

Imagine Spock growing up, now more hesitant to even speak about his human side, rejecting a lot of human things that he used to enjoy. Amanda's heart breaking as she watches her son become so Vulcan-like because the slightest slip-up causes Spock to become the topic of ridicule and disdain within Vulcan itself.

Imagine Spock leaving and going to Earth and feeling so disconnected from humans that he just keeps up this whole "Vulcan brick wall" shtick and humans poke fun at his "Vulcan-ness"

Imagine Spock, too human to be a true Vulcan and too Vulcan to be truly human, not knowing where he fits exactly. But accepts he is both Vulcan and human and should not have to choose between one or the other. Accepting that he will always be treated differently for simply being both the son of a Vulcan and a Human.

[inertia-writes]

dehradun days

you meet them for the first time,

knowing it's probably the last.

might as well make the most of this time,

since life comes at you fast.

you find the strangest of signals

in the no-network zones.

cross-tent communication with folks,

just rambling about the unknown.

there's the warmth of shared laughter,

that carries you through freezing nights,

and you look up at the flickering stars,

to finally see things in a different light.

and at 11,000 ft above sea level

you finally reach the peak,

just to realise the joy was in the journey,

and the friends you made that week.

you'll visit caves & splendid cafes,

and remember the city in mere parts,

but years later, you'll still tell everyone,

how dehradun captured your heart.

[muchadoaboutstartrek]

Strange new worlds - S02E02 "Ad Astra Per Aspera"

Spock and La'an practically being the same person and moving like one.

[morns-fevered-dream]

It's time for the musical episode on SNW I'm actually excited for this one It's something new that's for sure oh and Spoilers!

Season 2 Episode 9

Unusual Phenomenon always a good start

Oh I love the communicates manually

Oooooo "Anything Goes"

I fucking burst out laughing at the first musical line about the Intermix Chamber

This is killing me

The accidentally doing things in unison is great

Pike saying but "why are we singing?" Reminded me of that Le Mis skit form Key and Peele

Did they use a Acapella intro? Lol

Kirk first compliment of Spock and Spock face afterwards was funny

I'm having more fun then I should

Ah the under the bed sheets cliche lmao

Oh my god Pike falling to his knees mid song just for it to be ended is hilarious

I thought they were float from the power of music but it was just anti gravity I'm dieing

Everyone dancing in the Chapel song was funny

It would have been funny if Spock said understandable after the ready to leave song

They're breaking up in the Musical episode?!?! Lmaoooo

So far my favorite song is Uhura one

Uhura smiling while explaining that they have to do a grand finale is a mood and a slay

This is a Uhura episode

I hope we hear the klingons sing

The group of redshirts dancing 🕺

Oh my god the guy on the bio bed clicking their feet together

OH MY GOD The Klingon that was not what I was expecting

I had to stop for a good minute just to laugh of all the things I was expecting to hear that wasn't it

The Klingon background dancer are killing me

Sam Kirk being the only one into the Klingon song is so weirdly in character lmao

THE ENTERPRISE AND 3 D-7 CRUISER DANCING

A dancing starship this is so cheesy but I'm having fun

Spock diplomacy is just drinking god he must have a had a lot of Romulan Ale

The panic from Uhura humming

It was cheesy and absolutely ridiculous it was completely and utter nonsense but it was very funny nonsense

[youngpettyqueen]

once again thinking about the post-canon dynamics on DS9

[damnprecious]

setting up a new computer be like 'what the heck was that password again; yes yes yes it was I who logged into this account, no need to confirm it literally four times; oh look at that, I only have eight tabs open; oh god no what is this new keyboard I keep hitting the wrong key'

[commanderpelia]

it’s so hard to figure out the vibe on trek twitter about snw because one minute they act like they love it and then the next tweet they hate it like…it’s the first episode of the second season? like there’s time for it to change and get better??

[queenboimler]

my employer may have lost my latest paycheck (which means i will be late on a few of my bills) but the subspace rhapsody episode album is on spotify so overall its a win

[grumpling]

my lips are stained dark from new year's eve wine and i feel absolutely bursting with hope. most of the people around me are several orders of magnitude more intoxicated so i'm just sharing that feeling here instead. thank you for being a friend. anyway let's go watch star trek

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I have no expectation that Spirk will be canon an any new trek (and frankly I don't think I'd even trust paramount to try), but I do still need them to make Kirk and Spock weird about each other. If they're not weird about each other, it ain't them.

Because they're so ridiculously devoted to one another, y'know? Devoted and, frankly, adoring. They like each other so much. They are each other's Most Important Person. That's just. canon. It's In The Text. There is no one like Jim Kirk for Spock, and no one like Spock for Jim Kirk. It is not possible for anyone else to fill that position in their lives.

They have got to let them be weird about each other.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

The Popular Vote

The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.

This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.

When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.

It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.

I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.

“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.

“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”

“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”

“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”

I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.

Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”

I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.

“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.

I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.

There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”

I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.

There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.

I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.

“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.

“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”

“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”

In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.

With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.

As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.

I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.

Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.

My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.

I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.

Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”

I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.

The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.

Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.

The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.

“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.

I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.

And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.

The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.

After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.

An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.

“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”

My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.

I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.

“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”

“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”

Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.

I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.

I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.

The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.

They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.

I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.

I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.

I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”

My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.

“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”

“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”

“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”

Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.

As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.

My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.

Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.

“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”

I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”

I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.

“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”

“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”

My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.

I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.

There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.

I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.

Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.

“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.

The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.

The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.

When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.

“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”

I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.

------

Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐕𝐢𝐥).

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; you make out with vil, cue his walk of shame back to his own dorm.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It had been a surprise when Vil had shown up at your doorstep this late in the evening, bearing some new skincare product or another and insisting that it would do wonders for your acne-prone skin.

❋ He’d gone out of his way to make the long trek over to Ramshackle, and so you’d invited him in, half-expecting him to decline since your dorm was old, dusty, and generally below his standards.

❋ You didn’t think that he’d actually agree.

❋ And you didn’t think that things would . . . Escalate.

❋ (Note to self: Vil Schoenheit apparently has a thing for your granny pyjamas. Or maybe it’s a thing for the person wearing them. Who knew?)

❋ To his credit, Vil tries to exercise some restraint at first. Just a kiss. Maybe two. But every time he tries to pull back, you’ll look up at him with unfocused eyes and a soft plea on your swollen lips, making him lean in again with a smirk and a sigh as he sinks deeper into the kiss, into you.

❋ Somewhere in the heat of things, he loses track of time entirely, and by the time he realizes he should be heading back to Pomefiore, it’s way past curfew. The haze of lust quickly clears once he catches sight of the alarm clock on your nightstand. There's no way he's making it back without attracting attention.

❋ He quickly disentangles himself from you (no matter how much you pout and beg for ‘just one more’), and turns his attention to fixing his makeup.

❋ He’s absolutely horrified once he catches a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror. Smudged lipstick, mussed hair, flushed cheeks, wrinkled shirt — how positively unbecoming! Vil Schoenheit doesn’t get caught looking disheveled.

❋ Unfortunately, there aren’t many high-end makeup products available to him in Ramshackle right now. Sighing heavily, Vil makes a mental note to start leaving some of his own products in your drawer, especially if these romantic escapades are to continue.

❋ He’s almost tempted to cast a small glamour to cover up the evidence. Almost. He’s Vil Schoenheit, after all, and the idea of concealing a makeup smudge feels both laughable and tragic to him. No, he’ll wear the consequences of your enthusiastic show of affection.

❋ He leaves with his head held high, hoping that with his usual haughty attitude and poise, no one will dare comment on his lateness . . . And more importantly, his appearance.

❋ No such luck.

❋ The first person he encounters on his way back is none other than Rook, who seems to appear out of thin air with glittering eyes and a knowing smile. “Ah, the scent of amour is unmistakable! You must have been at Ramshackle, non?”

❋ Vil can feel his cheeks pinkening as he hisses at Rook to keep it down. “Not. Another. Word. Understood?”

❋ He can’t catch a break in the dorm, either. It seems as though everyone is awake even at this god-forsaken hour, lining the hallways, pointing and staring and whispering. Vil grits his teeth and presses on, unwilling to falter when he’s almost made it to the safety of his room. Internally, he’s wishing he’d come in through the back door or, better yet, stayed hidden in Ramshackle.

❋ Finally, just when he thinks he’s in the clear, Epel catches sight of him, and opens his mouth. Vil raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow, daring him to try, and Epel shuts his mouth (he does start laughing once Vil is out of earshot, though).

❋ Once he’s back in the relative safety of his expansive room, Vil tosses his coat upon his bed and heaves a sigh of relief, catching his breath before he cleans up and does his nighttime skincare routine. His eyes flicker to the smudge of your lipstick on his collar with a little smile . . . Though he’ll never admit he didn’t wash it out right away.