#no need to get unnecessarily hysterical

[fernsehn]

https://comicbook.com/comics/news/david-duchovny-kepler-comic-book-graphic-novel-interview-x-files-reaction-explained/

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can we get Muzan but he has twin male children, who in the Uppermoons eyes are way more threatening and terrifying then Muzan, the twins are very overprotective of Muzan when he isn’t looking, and Muzan believes that his boys are sweet and harmless, but the twins are always killing anything and everyone who even looks at their father the wrong way

Another Papa Muzan scenario! After I just made one, it’s okay though! Let’s do another Papa Muzan!

Kibutsuji Muzan- Trio of Disaster

Muzan loves his twin sons to death and he will happily murder anybody, demon or human, who dare to try insult nor suppress his children. They are just as high power as Muzan and their privileges may or may not twist their point of view into believing they are unstoppable with how much Muzan spoiled them

Muzan isn’t aware of how his Upper Moons are more terrified of his sons then him. He wouldn’t be upset if so, he’d be relieved that his sons are becoming so much like their father and he would encourage them to continue maintaining their image. Muzan feels pride for his princes of the demons

Muzan is overprotective towards his twins, and that passionate treatment is traded back on the twins’ behalf. They hiss and bark at anybody who merely looks at their father, and that includes striking at Tanjiro when he first comes across Muzan. The twins value their father too much to let him be tainted, even in the slightest

Muzan isn’t aware of how the twins attack demons and humans he speaks to, behind his back. As much as he loves his sons, he isn’t really aware of how they really are like. He simply believes they are angels, unable to do anything wrong but they are truly as rotten as him

Muzan will argue hysterically with his Upper Moons over his sons. Proclaiming they are innocent and pure, as they always are with their father. As they torture Gyokko and Hantengu for daring to breath in their father’s direction wrong. The twins are rather cruel and evil but their intentions are centred around their father

Muzan loves taking his sons out to everywhere he goes. To Shibuya, to Tokyo, to the nearby River, to the Ubuyashiki household. Muzan will never leave his sons out and he constantly has them right besides him. He just can’t stand being away from his lovely sons

Muzan is very attached to his lovely twins. He has had them for so long, he can’t even express how much he adores them. Sure, he adopted them when he turned them into demons to save their lives for his selfish gain but that original reason has converted into a real fatherly love

Muzan likes buying presents for his twins. Even if he has to get his claws dirty to get them, he always comes back with lots of gifts for his sons and this kinda enables their entitled, aggressive nature. Muzan could care less, he loves his sons and he doesn’t bat a eye at the remarks he gets over them being unnecessarily cruel to everybody

Muzan will never bring his twins into a mission nor fight, under any circumstance. The final battle including him, he hides them away and proclaims his love for them is infinite. Sure, when he doesn’t come back, the twins are distraught and cry for days over their father’s defeat but they know they must carry on the legacy

“Boys. Come here, give Father a hug… this is sadly a serious situation but I need you two to run away. Hide, avoid the slayers as much as possible. They will come after you, and I love you two too much to let them hurt you. For Father, save yourselves”

[periprose]

Angsty/Sad imagine idea for insomniac!peter parker

Reader dies in his arms or he visits her grave for the first time and he says something like "we weren't supposed to end like this" and its just sad....

😭 this ask made me sad but also excited to write! Thanks for requesting it.

/

"How is Spider-Man supposed to reach us in time?" The woman tied up next to you quivered in fear. "Those assholes having been taunting their guns for the last twenty minutes... oh God..."

You never worried if Peter would show up to rescue you in time. Ever since Fisk had gotten jailed, multiple up-and-coming criminals had taken this as their chance to shine.

Unfortunately for you, that meant being kidnapped or harassed, and often you'd get out of those situations thanks to the police- but being Spider-Man's girlfriend sometimes had it's privileges, namely that you could text him discreetly for help and he'd be on his way.

You always felt bad about it. You knew there were worse, harsher things happening out there. But Peter always insisted that you ask for help.

Usually it would end in a quick brawl, and you'd be safely thwipped into his arms, no harm done as you'd swing back to your apartment in safety.

This time, though? It's a lot more serious. These thugs want to "directly send a message to Spider-Man", and it's by poor luck that they've discovered your connection to him.

Every once in a while, they taunt you, but you're sure Peter will rescue you. You've sent him a text and he's read it- he must be frantically swinging right now.

"He's coming, don't worry." You try to comfort the woman beside you, but to no avail- she mutters that Spider-Man doesn't deserve a girlfriend if this is what happens to her, and that you need higher standards.

"This one's getting too confident, boss." One of the thugs kicks your side after hearing your remark, and you wince. "Being pretty won't save you now, bitch."

The woman next to you shrieks in fear- but she suddenly gasps in relief, and you see him, red-and-blue Spider-Man saviour swinging directly to the intersection you're currently kneeling at.

"I've got you, stay down!" Spider-Man shouts at you and the other hostages. He doesn't have a hint of his usual, tension-breaking humour, and it fills you with dread.

The pavement hurts your knees, but you stay down, not wanting to draw attention now as Spider-Man attacks and webs up your kidnappers. He's putting a lot more emphasis into his punches- it seems like they've really ruffled his feathers this time.

Of course, Peter's actually furious- he doesn't know how they figured out your connection to him, and he's desperate to take you away and hide you somewhere safe.

He wonders if he can convince you to move to New Jersey.

After a blur of punches, Peter sees that there's just one more guy to defeat- he swings forward, the guy shoots his gun, a flurry of bullets ricocheting everywhere, and Peter doesn't care about the sudden searing pain in his side- he takes him down.

He turns- hoping that you're still okay to go home now- but the woman next to you is crying hysterically, pointing to your slumped over body.

Oh no. Oh no. No, no, no.

Peter starts running, not with the confident poise of Spider-Man, but with the fear of a young man about to lose the one person he truly, truly cared about.

He scrambles over the pavement, where you're lying in a pool of your own blood, gunshot wounds scattered across your body- it just seems unnecessarily unfair, so needlessly cruel that the universe decided that you would take all those bullets. They should've hit him- he would've gladly taken every single shot.

"No, no. Please-" Peter squeezes your hand, as you look up at him, tears falling out of your eyes. Your face is ghostly pale, you're shuddering- but you still have enough time to say something.

"Keep... going..." You try, because you don't want Peter to blame himself for your own stupidity.

"No. Please, somebody help her!" Peter shouts, gritting his teeth, and there's nobody left here but him and you. Everyone else has ran off- and Peter's too shaken to call an ambulance at this moment. "I don't know what to do, don't- don't-"

You know what he means, and you're trying. You're using all your might to not die here, to let yourself be rescued and healed. But you can't let Peter stay agonized like this, not when he means so much to people, not when he protects so much more than just you, so you use your last reserve of energy to speak, even though he tries to shush you.

"New York... needs... you."

"I need you!" Peter yells, and you can tell he's crying under the mask. "It should've been me, I could've taken it- please don't-"

But Peter's luck always runs out, and it seems like the universe wants him to lose even more than he ever has. Your grip loosens from his hand, your eyes glaze over, and even though he sobs, clings on to you even more tightly- you just aren't there to hug him back this time.

/

It's been a month since Peter lost you so unceremoniously.

He stares at your gravestone in disbelief. None of this feels real- he was sure that if anyone in this world had to die from random criminals, it should've been him.

All the time, he feels like he's waiting for a phone call from you. He still swings by your apartment- your things have been removed, he can see that through the window.

Even though he saw your body being taken away into the ambulance, where you were immediately proclaimed dead, and he was at your funeral. It's like the reality of the situation is refusing to sink in his mind.

Even worse, he's taken out his rage on every petty criminal that comes his way now, as Spider-Man. J. Jonah Jameson loves it, calls him even more of a vengeance on the city, and that he should be behind bars.

Peter would be behind bars gladly if it meant you would've been safe. Maybe being Spider-Man was a mistake.

But he can't forget your last words. The last thing Peter would ever do is disappoint you, and he knows what you wanted. That he would keep protecting the city, that he would keep going despite it all.

Damn it, he hates you sometimes. Hates that you still know how to inspire hope in him, that you're such a significant presence in his heart that you're permanently etched there now. He hates how much he loves you, and how he's going to forever listen to you.

He just wishes you were here to see it through.

"We weren't supposed to end like this. It was supposed to be me and you, together, living a full life." He whispers. "It... it was supposed to be us, and our kids, our grandkids, hell even great grandkids, and then, only then, would I accept it. That we would be allowed to-"

He still can't bring himself to say die. So he lets himself swallow the agony, the sobs that always threaten to ebb out of his throat, and rests another bouquet of flowers at your grave.

[minhyeong]

WAYV + SIMPLE DATES !

[ kun ] 

being pushed by him on the swings at an empty playground after all the kids return home and streets slow down and you can finally have a moment of stillness

wraps his own scarf around you since it's a little chilly in the evening

sways you gently until you're asking for more momentum, but he will never not worry about you falling down so he only puts so much force

sitting in comfortable silence with the occasional creaking of the chains as you inhale the air that smells earthy and sink into the embrace of the autumn breeze

you look back and he smiles, eyes crinkling when your gazes lock, and you suddenly feel like you're eight again with nothing to fear

[ ten ] 

wearing matching pajamas and brushing your teeth together after indulging in way too much sugar for the night

he gets even louder and more unhinged than usual when all the sugar in his system hits

your shared playlist is playing in the background, volume turned up loud enough that he has to scream over the music to communicate with you but you both like it that way

laughs at all the foam that sits on your mouth as you brush your teeth when he doesn't look much neater

bumps his shoulder into yours when you make eye contact through the mirror but fakes pain when you do the same back and claims you have to kiss it better

[ winwin ] 

dragging him out to grocery shop after you opened his fridge and noticed that there was barely anything edible

pushing the shopping cart side by side with hands resting just close enough on the handle

he gets distracted and sneaks a few packs of junk food into the cart that you side eye because they're not filling, and he definitely tilts his head and gives you puppy eyes for permission to get more ice cream

but also remembers to stock up on your favorite snacks for when you go over

hands you the lightest bag and then tries to carry everything else back into the house at once because two trips are for the weak according to him

[ xiaojun ] 

napping at 6am because you stayed up all night pondering life and made sure you had someone (him) to ponder with

doesn't even have to be something deep because he will stay up to debate whether humans have one butt or two

but now you both look like zombies and have eye bags that sink all the way down to your cheekbones, so you finally put the debate aside for a moment and crawl into bed

he sets the alarm for 8am and giggles almost hysterically for a second out of disbelief because did you two really just forgo sleep to talk about butts

tenderly interlocks his fingers with yours before he shuts his eyes and mumbles that he's definitely right about the debate

[ hendery ] 

assembling furniture together after a spontaneous trip to ikea that resulted in bringing home a shelf that you definitely didn't need but wanted regardless

unboxing takes an hour because he got distracted by the bubble wrap and challenged you to see who could pop them all quicker

purposely rolls up his sleeve and unnecessarily flexes his arms when he's using the screwdriver and sends you a wink that has you fake gagging

is actually very focused on trying to decipher the instructions when you both finally get to work

proudly moves the finished product to the place you want it and tells you to put a framed photo of him on the shelf so everyone who visits can see his beautiful face

[ yangyang ]

watching a romantic comedy movie where the characters are dancing in the rain and suddenly he's pulling you off the couch so you can do the same on your small balcony

the downpour is sharp and almost feels as if it's trying to pierce through your skin that grows colder by the minute

it's a little awkward at first and you have no idea what you're supposed to do, but he rubs the rain out of your eyes and tugs you close

you forget about the cold rain when he dramatically twirls and dips you, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as the thrill hits you

makes sure to dry your hair with a towel after you take a warm shower and kisses the crown of your head

[maglors-grief]

I do not agree with some of you that the B&C scene in hotd was too graphic and unnecessarily violent. I found the scene to actually be way too tame compared to how horrifying and heartbreaking the book version is. I was quite disappointed with how the scene was done in the show. And I'm not even trying to say that the scene needed to be more explicit. I'm actually frustrated with the little emotional impact the scene had.

I get that everyone responds to traumatic situations differently, but the choice to have show!Helaena be pretty much frozen and not very expressive was not a good one. Book!Helaena was pleading for B&C to kill her instead, crying while having to choose which son, and rightfully hysterical when the deed was done. Show!Helaena didn't even seem very affected that they killed her son. They made a very emotional scene in the book be quite bland tbh. But since Helaena is a dreamer in the show, perhaps she had already prepared herself for Jaehaerys's fate.

And I've already made a post about this, but the decision to have this scene end with an Alicent and Criston Cole sex scene was ridiculous. I truly cannot get over that.

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time! wednesday we watched voy's "displaced" and ds9's "children of time" AAAAAA from which i will. never recover

displaced (voy):

this one was truly so fun. i loved the mystery of what was going on, i loved how janeway was (i felt) unnecessarily hostile and then it turned out she was RIGHT, i loved when chakotay gave up on winning and decided to simply do as much sabotaging as possible before the same was up because i loved watching him cause problems on purpose

similarly the scenes in the biomes/tunnels were fun not only because janeway had a blast bargaining with that one guy but because and and tuvok were ALSO having fun creeping around causing problems on purpose

the final moment of joy was janeway willing to leave those aliens to freeze to death in their own fake biome if they didn't let everybody go. prime directive? we don't know her. sometimes it's annoying how trek only remembers the prime directive when it's convenient, but this was so much fun that i don't really care

shoutout also to tuvok for vulcan nerve pinching that one guy. not nearly enough vulcan nerve pinches lately

and, all right, look. tom and b'elanna are cute. i'm not going crazy stupid over them or anything but it was really special to me when he didn't fuck her. you can overlook so much annoying buffoonery from a guy when you begin giving him the benefit of the doubt (because he didn't fuck her) instead of being instantly annoyed every time he opens his mouth. tom paris maybe earned his redemption. i only wish i could have had a turnaround like this for picard instead

i was really glad they didn't Talk About It at the end. they both opened their mouths as if to say more and then decided not to and that was PERFECT. like the fact that she came and sought him out was apology enough. well done.

children of time (ds9):

girl, help

never in my life...

I DID NOT EXPECT THIS. i read we were due for a season 6 get together

AND HJE JUST STROLLS IN AND

like.

ok. like. ok. she's by the bucket rip odo back in the bucket so she's by the bucket smiling fondly at it and then THE OTHER ODO. WALKS IN. AND JUST SAYS IT. I HAD TO ADJUST. PRESENT DAY ODO IS SICK RN I KNOW IT

the way he almost touched her face without actually touching it. the way he says it because he's had 200 years to regret not saying it

also, the way that he can love someone for 200 years and not have it diminished in any way. like i'm not saying offing 8k colonists was the way to go but for someone whose body can change shape his will and the way he loves people is so steadfast and UNchanging and that is very. wow. what a situation that is

HIIIII THEY HELD HAAAAANDS. did i have to pause the episode and recover from hysterics and maybe also tears? don't worry about it

he makes hands to touch people with and when he woke up that morning for the first time in 200 years he made hands to touch her with.........

also, kira praying over her own grave. insane.

THE KISS!!!!!!! she was very much like giving that to him as a one time goodbye thing but AAAUGHGHGH

i kind of wish she'd asked WHY he loves her - that it had had a little more substance - but we gotta save some goodies for modern day odo

also aw he's still bad at shapeshifting even after linking with his other self...

also, i had odo vision this entire episode. kira has never looked more beautiful

anyway, sorry, the ethical dilemma. i don't think erasing 8k people from history is quite the same as killing them. they don't know they were erased and no one grieves them. it's more existentially horrifying, worse in some ways, but also not the same as murder, because again - what about the people on ds9 who exist right now and need their families? keiko and molly and yoshi and jake and kassidy? what about the people who would be born because they go back? the people who need sisko especially in the war efforts?

there's really not a clear right and wrong answer and it kind of sucks that the episode painted staying behind as like "the right thing to do even though it's very difficult to make such a sacrifice." like maybe the colony is miserable. struggling to survive. and that thickens things up a little

i read that dax was originally supposed to be the one to redo the autopilot because of his guilt over the accident which would have made lots of sense - i think we could have swung it to dax getting helped by odo, because dax's dedication to keeping the colony alive makes less sense the more you think about it, and then kira's slightly less horrified? maybe that removes some of the teeth, idk

also, imagine being bonded to your grandma's trill. like you'd remember her sex life. wack

AND I NEARLY FORGOT BUT SISKO BABY TALKING HIS LITTLE DESCENDANT!!!!!!!! please please PLEASE somebody give that man a baby he loves babies so much

anyway, 10/10, blew me away, i can't believe that really happened

TONIGHT: voy's "worst case scenario" and ds9's "blaze of glory"

[legobiwan]

Cut Scenes #2: The Destruction of the Sammer Kingdom

I couldn't justify including this section in the latest update to Expiate, as it would have slowed down the narrative unnecessarily. So enjoy, if one can use such a word for this scene, my take on traumatizing Mario and co. with the end of the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What number was that?”

“Twenty-seven, I think!” 

Mario lets loose a vicious oath. 

There’s not enough time. 

They reach the next set of doors, panting. On the unspoken count of three they push, Mario using his own beleaguered body as a battering ram, slamming his throbbing shoulder into hard-grained wood. 

“Twenty…eight…” Bowser heaves, folding over, clasping his knees with shaking hands. 

Mario grunts, racing around to Bowser’s rear, pushing at his shell with what little strength he has remaining. “Get moving, Koopa,” he grits, sweat stinging at the corners of his eyes. “We can’t rest, not now.”

The Void belches with a gargantuan roar, spewing an ashen plume of iridescent nothingness which cascades through the sky, specks of obliteration flittering to the ground.

“I know, I know,” Bowser wheezes, one large hand grabbing onto Mario’s bad shoulder for support.

Above them, the Void grumbles.

Mario nods, and a moment later, they’re off again, dashing up and over the podium where another one of Sammer’s men remains steadfast, kneeling in doomed obeisance. Mario wonders what happened to the real Sammer leader, if he’s already dead. It would be kinder, he thinks, than this.

They sprint upwards, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, the world losing hue with each ascension, shadows with no object slithering from the sky. They crash through to the thirty-third level, scraped and bleeding, Peach’s skirt tearing on broken wood, angry splinters gouging into raw fingers and swollen palms as they push another set of doors open. 

“Thirty-four,” Peach announces as the ground rumbles, then lets out a calamitous roar, the world phasing in multicolored duality. Bowser is thrown forward, stumbling towards the raised stage before them, perspiration dripping in wild zigzag patterns from his shell. Mario grabs for the nearest stanchion, the vertigo of a near-undone reality knocking him to his knees. He barks out a ragged cough, dirty phlegm rocketing from his lungs. 

The taste is necrotic.

One of Sammer’s men stands on the far end of the platform, crimson hat melting around his head, a bright-red trail of sanguine decay creeping from his temple to inner ear. He brandishes a tarnished, silver pike in his right hand, swinging the weapon to a horizontal bar across his body. 

“We are doomed!” he proclaims, eyes frenzied and bloodshot, jaw unhinged in an open smile that nearly bisects his face. He yells to the open, bleeding sky, shaking his pike to the falling heavens. “It cannot be stopped!”

“IT CANNOT BE STOPPED!” the guard barks with hysterical laughter, throwing his head back, blood splattering across the broken stage. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

They need to leave, need to run, they -

Mario freezes. Something’s wrong with his shadow. 

He looks up. The sun is fading into the outline of a bright halo, what’s left of the sky now fallen into a deep indigo. The tectonic convulsions of the earth peter out, undulating land gently seesawing back to a nervous equilibrium.

Mario grabs Peach’s hand. 

Something very, very bad is about to happen.

All at once, static pushes up through the earth in high-pitched, curling squeals. Mario stares, slack-jawed, as the sonic leviathan rises from the ends of the universe, mountains fracturing into shards of bone, forest pummeled into flat, dripping entrails. He thinks he hears Bowser calling for his children, thinks he hears himself shouting for his lost brother, but the Void’s hunger is as loud as it is insatiable, slurping at rivers, needlepoint teeth tearing into the belly of the sky with a satisfied growl that shakes the world. There’s nothing left, nothing but Peach’s hand in his and all Mario can think is please forgive me as the last of existence unspools with a serrated shriek and -

[smilingformoney]

The Potion Master’s Permission

Dad Snape | Abbie x Ravenclaw!reader

Summary: You’re a Ravenclaw student with a crush on Snape’s daughter, and you decide it might be safer to approach your professor first.

Inspired by this ask! I don’t expect anyone to want x reader with an OC but I decided to make it reader insert so I didn’t have to specify a character.

Snape was in his office, marking the latest bunch of subpar essays he had the misfortune to read, when he heard a knock on his door.

He sighed and sat upright in his chair. He didn’t fancy speaking to anyone unnecessarily, but at least it was a reprieve from marking.

“Yes?” he called out.

The door opened and you stepped through. You were one of the less annoying dunderheads; your work was generally A or E grade, occasionally O, without any fuss or attempts to show off. You never reached out for academic help, and as a Ravenclaw, you had no reason to come to him for any other matters. Therefore, while your arrival was preferable to that of most other students, it was surprising.

“Good evening, Professor,” you said politely.

“What is it?” Snape asked shortly.

You closed the door behind you and approached the desk. You appeared nervous, and so Snape gestured to you to sit down. If you were to become hysterical about whatever was bothering you, it wouldn’t do for you to collapse in his office.

“I’d like to ask your permission -“ you began, but Snape interrupted you.

“Surely Professor Flitwick should be granting permissions for Ravenclaws?”

You balked slightly at being interrupted during your planned speech, but you replied, “Well, this is something I specifically need your permission for, sir.”

Snape raised an eyebrow curiously. Perhaps you wanted access to his personal ingredient store for extracurricular study?

“Go on,” he said.

“Well, sir, I… I’d like to ask your permission to… to ask Abbie Payne out.”

Snape remained motionless, his expression unchanged. You waited anxiously, trying not to balk under his piercing gaze.

“Out?” he queried.

“On a… a date.” Why did he have to make this so hard?

Snape leaned forward and steepled his fingers, eyeing you up and down like he was evaluating a potion.

“Why should I allow such a thing?”

You were taken aback slightly. “Well… I really like her. She’s pretty and smart and funny and -“

“I’m well aware of Abigail’s traits, Miss L/N. Why should I allow you to ask my daughter on a date?”

You took a breath. “I’d like to get to know her better. Even if we didn’t get together, I think it’d be good for both of us to have someone… someone who understands us.”

“And is Abigail aware of your… inclination?”

“Yes. I told her when we were studying together last week. And she told me that she’s the same.”

Snape glanced down at the essays in front of him and pulled one out. “As it happens, I’m marking your class’s essays,” he remarked. “I was interested to read your theory on alternative uses for aconite.”

“I can’t take all the credit for that, actually. Abbie gave me the idea. I just… expanded on it.”

“Is that so?” Snape said, sounding bored. He pondered her essay for a few more moments then looked back up at her.

“Abigail is extremely strong-willed,” he said, apparently turning back to the subject at hand. “She will never back down from a fight and puts her entire heart into everything she does.”

He paused, and you waited, anticipating a ‘but’.

“She is also extremely loyal. Perhaps too much so. If she were to love you, she would do so unwaveringly… to her own disservice. She will forgive even the most heinous of sins from someone she loves.”

Snape stood, and his shadow loomed over you.

“I, however, offer no such luxury. If she sheds even a single tear and the blame is at your door, I will not hesitate to have you gutting newts every Saturday for the remainder of your time at Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded, too petrified to speak.

“Good. Now get out.”

You stood, and went for the door as quickly as you could without running.

“L/N,” Snape called, and you turned around, your hand hesitating on the doorknob.

“Sir?” you asked anxiously. What was he going to threaten you with now?

“She doesn’t like flowers. Her favourite sweets are cauldron cakes. And… ask her about her songwriting. She may be hesitant at first, but she will want to talk about it.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded, then resumed marking, and you knew you were dismissed.

[wrens-garden]

Outsiders, Krowfangs POV, episode 7

It's been weeks since it last 'woke up'. Nearly no hunger bars, so… promising

Red solves his depression with beer, Red has given some to Krow despite Kyles protests. Red is an interesting character.

The theatre looks like it's being prepared for a show, and Apo's fake head has been taken off the stick in the archery range.

Krow has just been told about Owen, Magic and Bek are going to clearing 2. It's upset that it took Owen telling it, to know, but doesn't think it can blame anyone as it's been in a hole for weeks.

Krow and Kyle seem to bond by insulting each other. Krow is very protective of Ayngel. Krow thinks it's messed up that no one told Ayngel or itself about them going to clearing 2.

Krow seems to have faulty memory surrounding Guts poisoning Magic (Probably just cc!Krow forgetting things that happened)

They're updating the book. Guts is staying because they tried to kill Red, Rasbi, Squidney, Spidey and Mohwee are going. Krow thinks that they can't be on the list simply because they like them, they need to assure themselves.

Squidney was only coming along because she's caused no issues, and she might have knowledge of the maze but, she's injured and might mentally give up. Mohwee is too hotheaded. Spidey can't bring anything. Rasbi Krow doesn't know much about, but she just seems depressed.

The list is no longer about people to keep in the clearing, but instead people that will run the maze with them. Krow thinks a lot of the people in the clearing would betray them if they don't betray them first.

The new list is: Krow, Ori, Guts, Owen, Silvia, Kyle

Krow says that if Ayngel was hurt, it would leave her behind too, but expects her to do the same for it. Because if she stops because Krow is injured, the last thing it will see is her dying too. Ayngel says she thinks Krow as her friend and isn't simply being nice to it. It loves Ayngel and would do anything for her within the clearing, but in the maze that's not an option.

Krow has fallen off the deep end majorly. I get where it's coming from but wow.

They're not taking Bek because Krow thinks she'll betray them unnecessarily, or Magic because she would sacrifice herself, and Krow doesn't want people doing that.

Currently, it's asking Silvia. Silvia seems receptive to the idea.

They're going to see if Bek, Magic and Owen have returned. Krow has been told what happened, and thinks it's kinda makes sense. Krow says it's like Beks to leave someone behind. I'm starting to see where Krow gets its ideologies from. It's trying to rationalize what happened, part of it believes it, part of it doesn't.

It is sure Magic would say goodbye if she planned to stay. Krow won't go after Magic, even if she would go after it, because it can't ba a hypocrite.

It's gone into the maze to "Observe how good they are". It's heading back because it won't get lost for Magic.

Ayngel has asked it if this is not what it wanted. Krow can't seem to explain. Krow asks why Bek isn't going with Owen and Gracie. Bek is holding a show. Krow doesn't seem amused, it is struggling to balance keeping everyone in the clearing safe while keeping in mind the fact it will leave anyone who falls behind. Krow thinks Bek is covering something up, Ayngel thinks Bek has a point and that it'll help lift spirits.

The show has started. Literally, only Ayngel and Krow were there, but then the cutscene happens and everyone shows up.

Krow seems hysterical. Krow never trusted Bek, but now it doesn't seem to trust anyone. Ayngel is telling Krow what Bek did to Magic. Magic is breaking up Bek's stage. No longer seems hysterical, but still very upset and balancing on a thin line between anger and sadness

It keeps referring to clearing B as home. Ow my heart

Krows been told Bek is the reason clearing 2 is dead. Krow is distraught, Magic thought Krow was laughing and hit it, and now Krow has walked off. Krow seems to think it should have figured that out sooner, but wants Bek dead nonetheless.

Krow has run into the maze, it says it's lost it. It has returned to the clearing, says it can't be a hypocrite, but it will be going back.

Krow is upset that Clearing 1 are talking politics, thinks they're selfish and don't care about Clearing B. it has finally confronted them. Krow has said they need to start killing people (I hate dramatic conversations like this, they give me such second hand embarrassment, so I keep stopping. Can I be allowed to skip them? Please, I can't handle it, even if I think Krow is right)

Krow says that everyone ignores what they don't want to hear. Guts says that Apo killing people would have meant the death penalty where she was from. Owen has called Krow a psychopath, Krow called Owen twisted (I believe). Magic is telling them all that Bek killed everyone. Ayngel is saying that everyone was mad at the fact Apo broke their trust rather than dooming a clearing. Krow thinks everyone was pitying them.

Magic says there is only 4 of them now, and they have to work together, she is upset that their first thought when she told them the truth was Apo. Krow says that there isn't a clearing A and B any more. Magic says that because Krow wants to kill them, Krow is just as bad as Bek. Krow is understandably upset about that comparison.

Krow and Magic are fighting. Krow is no longer being led by Magic, apparently.

Kyle doesn't believe in a lot of what Krow says, but he agrees with the need to get out of the maze. Kyle apparently disarmed traps. Krow says Kyle is like Ori, says only truths so you can't really disagree but acknowledges that Acho has to come with as well. Krow won't kill Acho for no reason, but asking helps it understand Kyle's loyalty. They've come back to the clearing, Magic and Gracie were waiting on them.

Magic wants to talk to Krow. Getting a weird sense of déjà vu right now. Krow thinks Magic is a bad leader. Magic insists Krow doesn't mean it when it says to kill off the weak people (Pretty sure weak just means those that killed people in this context), Krow insists it does.

Why do I feel like Krow is still grieving and is just regurgitating everything Bek said to hide behind and find some semblance of comfort in? It just seems like something Bek would say, especially if Krow didn't trust Bek, it's something that can be overlooked coming from someone you trust but because no one seems to trust Krow they actually pay attention to what it says. Krow seems the type to actually pay attention to what people say, even if it likes them, so should someone have said that it would have noticed while others might not have, especially if it was in a passing comment and not announced like Krow did. I don't know. Negative comments aren't easily forgettable, so obviously Krow would have remembered it, and if other people seemingly didn't care about what was said, Krow could be using it as some shield to hide behind while it grieves. It's very steady on anger in the grief stages, that and depression, so I don't doubt that in some way it's struggling through grief and just fumbling as no one other than Ayngel, and Magic, actually checked up on it. Do you get what I mean?

Krow and Magic are arguing again. Magic is kinda fumbling her point right now, she just complimented it for a minute and probably would have kept that up if Krow didn't interrupt. Krow really wants Magic to be selfish for once. Magic says she'll be there if Krow needs her, Krow doesn't want her to.

Right, that's it for this stream. That was an emotional ride. No more tonight. I'll try to do 2 tomorrow, as the next 2 stream are around an hour each. No promises though.

[brokenlibrarygirl]

Me and my white ass…

I know enough Spanish to be able to read it using context clues. I can’t speak it very well, and I can glean like 10% of spoken Spanish.

I’m trying to get better. I’m working through Babbel. I actively listen to our Spanish speakers to work on it as well.

Today I had one of the weirdest 10 minutes of teaching. I had to cover the ELL class while the teacher dealt with something in the office. Let’s set the scene…

The kids in this class are 99% Spanish speakers. I’m severely Caucasian. Blonde, blue eyes

I have had several of them in class before.

So it’s starts with one of my lunch girls frantically running up to me with her computer to “talk” to me via Google translate. She’s like do you know this boy who she knows is in our lunch group. Patiently yes. The next question was poorly done by Google translate but was basically when did he start here. I have to look it up and tell her. The next question was straight mangled by translate. I had to stare at it for a bit. I made the guess she was asking about his previous time in the district in 3rd grade. I told her that was all I knew. This appeared to be what she needed and she returned to her girl posse and giggles were a plenty. I got the gist that one of the girls had a crush on said boy.

THEN

The thing that made me hysterically laugh to tears after I left.

So a couple minutes later a girl came into the classroom from somewhere else. Her first question to her group of friends in Spanish was where is Mr. B. I try to tell her yet one boy in the group is explaining why I’m there…and refers to me as la leche. This kid straight up murdered me calling me milk.

THEN!!! Two boys were taking a walk break. They are excellent English speakers. They came back and again they asked where the teacher was. I said that he was called down to the office. “Is he snitching.”

uhhh

“was he posting up”

What, all I know was he was called down to the office. They accept this and then it gets weird. Keep in mind after 22 years I know when a kid is blowing smoke up my ass and 80% of the time I just let them believe they pulled one over on me because I find it amusing and entertaining; plus it builds trust.

“So are you a teacher or like some other thing?”

I tell them I’m the librarian.

“What you make?”

I tell them because why the fuck not. I only make this amount because we still have a salary schedule and I’ve been doing it 22 years.

“So you’re rich rich”

The first thing out of my mouth was laughter then “I drive a Subaru”

“Those are nice cars”

First sign of smoke.

Then these two barely 14 year olds proceed to tell me what cars they drive. One tells me how he street races.

waving the smoke out my eyes…

“You know that’s dangerous”

Then these boys, who rank in the top 15 poorly behaved kids, tell me that they would never do drugs or drink and that they are good boys. Normally I would cackle in their face but I was trying to build some trust with them and just nodded. The smoke is beyond thick.

Then one proceeds to tell me he wants to be a sports star. I remind both of them that the local high school makes you sign a “behavior” clause when you make the team. They nod.

After this convo mercifully the teacher finally returned. He asked if they had been good and I said they were just silly and left.

I hope at the very surface level these kids don’t think I’m completely an awful white teacher. That I will listen if they talk to me. That I won’t rat them out unnecessarily. I didn’t tell their teacher that the two boys were 6 minutes over their walk break nor about their downright intrusive questions.

[xtruss]

‘US Balloon Hysteria’ Shows It is Not Capable of Serious Diplomacy

— Clifford A Kiracofe | February 09, 2023

Illustration: Liu Rui/Global Times

The hysterical reaction in Washington DC to a drifting Chinese meteorological balloon raises many questions. Can Washington appropriately manage relations with China? Will relations continue sliding toward rock bottom?

American politicians and mainstream media went ballistic over the balloon lazily drifting in the stratosphere above North America. Apparently, Canada kept calm relatively and carried on.

The North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) operated by the US and Canada duly performed its job monitoring the wayward balloon. Although the command was set up in the Cold War era to monitor incoming nuclear missiles and strategic bombers it apparently does a good with stray balloons.

It should be noted that US Army plans for the use of high-altitude balloons for the purpose of a layer of surveillance, communications, and range extension. Testing and experiments with high-altitude balloons have taken place at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. The operational range is 60,000 to 90,000 feet in altitude.

The political frenzy in Washington bodes ill. It demonstrates an unsteadiness and lack of judgment in the US political leadership. The Pentagon stated that the balloon did not pose a national security threat to the US, but the nervous White House politicos ordered it shot down.

Shooting down a meandering balloon unnecessarily as a grandiose media stunt does nothing to stabilize the greatly deteriorated US-China relationship. In fact, the action reinforces the observation by some world leaders that the US is unreliable and not capable of serious diplomacy.

Managing incidents at sea or in the air is part and parcel of international life. Countries sign diplomatic agreements to establish procedures to handle such matters. The balloon floated in the stratosphere. Will China and the US develop procedures to deal with incidents in the stratosphere and in space above that?

Of course, the US and China should have such agreements in place. Accidents and various kinds of incidents can lead to grave confrontation so it is better to reduce any tensions through diplomacy. Stabilizing US-China relations should be a key objective in bilateral diplomacy at this time.

Dr. Clifford A. Kiracofe

Unfortunately, the direction of the relationship is in a downward spiral. Under President Obama, the US initiated its "pivot" to the Pacific which involves military, diplomatic, and economic elements. Under Trump the US unleashed both a trade war and a tech war. Under Biden the US has intensified these things. Under all three the militarization of the Pacific has gone forward.

What does Washington's frenzy over the balloon incident signal to the rest of the world? That the US is jumpy, nervous, and lacks confidence? That its leadership is unable to stay calm and properly manage affairs?

The US had several diplomatic options. The Chinese ambassador to the US could have been summoned for an explanation and to signal concern. The US ambassador to China could have asked for answers and assurances from the Chinese Foreign Ministry. Such a professional and low-key approach would be a normal way forward. Instead, US bluster erodes confidence in the possibility for quiet and effective diplomacy.

Blinken could have gone forward with a visit although the Chinese side has stated that neither country officially announced such a visit. But if a visit would have gone forward it would have been a simple matter to add the balloon incident to the agenda. On the other hand, did Blinken actually intend to visit China or was the news some sort of publicity stunt?

Whatever the case, it is clear that some serious engagement and diplomacy is needed to stabilize the deteriorating US-China relationship before things get out of hand. After a certain point, it may not be possible to repair relations for some time to come. This then leads to a period of instability during which grave confrontation could occur.

The Biden administration needs to shape up and stop behaving like a school boy bully. Serious diplomacy is called for but is Washington capable of that?

— The author is an educator and former senior professional staff member of the Senate Committee on Foreign

[moonraccoon-exe]

If you're still taking drabbles, and if no one has asked for it. 11 for Corqi?

[Corqi drabbles written from this list of prompts.]

AOSDIKAJGDKJSFAKDJKFDSFDJ

First off, I’m so SORRY that it took this long, my dearest anon! Second, I’m sorry if you wanted a short drabble. This turned into a 1606 words little fic, haha. I just- couldn’t help it! I like descriptive writing, so there it goes.Third, I hope you like sappy self-indulgent fluff. This could go any way, in any genre, but I chose the most cliché and cheesy one because I wanted to, this was the last prompt I got and I thought it’d be cute, and our sweet angri boi deserves some praise.

Tbh I’m not 100% happy with it, but that’s because I’m not good at making short stories. Sorry! Still, hoping you enjoy, dear anon, and thanks lots for dropping in such a pretty prompt!

Adding a read more at some point.

“Wow, youlook…amazing.”

Loqi’sheart skipped a beat at the sound of that voice; he subtly flinched and gaspedin his place, not prepared to have been seen this soon. Still, his heart spedup to the pace of a scared rabbit and a smile grew on his face, cheeks blushedfrom the excitement. There was nothing that he wanted more than to turn aroundand go hug the owner of that voice. But he, gods know why, did notwant to show too much excitement, let the man know how eager he was for this.So, instead of that, he controlled his smile and tried to pretend his heart wasnot madly beating against his ribcage, and, trying to act as calmly aspossible, he turned around, not forgetting to do it with grace enough for thehalf-cloak he was wearing to do a charming, ethereal fly and fall movementaround his shoulders.

He couldnot help another wide smile and the speed of his heart again when he came tosight.

Cor Leonis,the Lucian Marshal, stood nearby the door, frozen, andlooking at him as if though he was in front of one of the Astrals’ divinemessengers, or in front of an Astral themselves. For a moment, Loqi forgot howto breathe and wanted to praise the Marshal back and instead; Cor looked phenomenal, dressedin the most elegant royal military suit Loqi had ever seen in his life; in theclassic Lucian colors, a fit jacket with all of Cor’s medals on a side of thechest, simple but elegant epaulettes, and a golden and black belt to the waist,on top of the jacket. He was even wearing a ceremonial emblematic sword,sheathed in its proper place.

But, oncemore, Loqi did not want to show what he was thinking. Cor had said somethingand was looking at him like he was a deity, and, before really letting Cor knowhis own thoughts and desires and excitement, he first wanted to take it to hisvantage. There was no way Loqi would admit it, but the praise, Cor’s praise forhim, it ruined him beautifully.

Focusingfirst in himself, weak by the way Cor was staring at him, Loqi moved slightlyin his place, distractedly, to show off his own clothing; the vest, the littlechains that crossed a side of his chest, the jacket witha long tail and loose sleeves, tied to his wrists, beautiful boots andloose-enough but fit pants. All of it, compared to Cor’s military outfit, madehim feel a little out of place, but in a pretty way. He almost felt like afantasy prince. It did not help that he kept enjoying of the half-cloak aroundhis shoulders, decorated with beautiful golden patterns and his own muchsimpler epaulettes. He was even given an ear piece with the shape of a dragon,for his Niflheimian origins.

“Youthink?” Loqi asked slyly, pretending innocence.

But Cor didnot reply. He did not even move. He stood in the same place, frozen, mouthopen, and eyes gleaming with shock. Loqi smiled yet again, looking away for amoment. Whenever he looked back at Cor, the Marshal was still staring at himlike he was literally unable to move. The way he looked at Loqi, it wasunbearable in a wonderful way. Loqi immediately blushed and looked away if helooked at Cor’s eyes, not because it was too intense but because it wastoo…pure. Cor was not pretending all this just to be romantic; he was honestlydumbstruck. Cor looked at him with such a sincere shock that all that Loqicould think of was a mortal looking up at their god for the first time.

A bitoverwhelmed, Loqi stared away, smiling, trying to control his burning cheeks.When he looked back and found Cor still looking up and down on him with thesame dumbstruck face, the Niflheimian could not help a low laugh, and hestopped caring about the praise.

“Somepeople may consider so much staring as rude, you know that, Leonis?” the blondasked as he walked over to the older man, still smiling. 

Cor stilldid not reply. He continued staring in absolute silence, still unable to shutthe mouth. He did take in a breath that sounded as if though he had forgottenhe had to breathe and, seeing the real shock in his eyes, Loqi did not doubtthat had been the case. Moved and not believing the Marshal could react likethis, the Niflheimian laughed lowly and moved even closer, and rested the handson Cor’s broad chest.

“Cor” Loqimurmured, smiling, “say something.”

“…I’msorry, I just…” Cor managed to whisper back, head lowered now that the youngerman was standing so close, so he could continue staring. Loqi waited for him tocontinue, but Cor didn’t say anything else; he merely tried, lips movedwordlessly, and he then smiled with an almost apologetic look in his face,shrugging slightly. By response, Loqi smiled widely and chuckled. Cor smiledback, but he continued staring, eyes analyzing, like he could not believe anyof what he was seeing.

The blondlet him; he stayed quiet as Cor’s eyes wandered all over his face, his hair,the ear piece, the neck and what he could see of clothing. Loqi smiled and didnot mind; he too liked to stare at Cor, and he thought that it would be nice tojust let him stare as he pleased. Loqi considered it as praise, and it did buttouch and raise his healthy ego, made him feel special. Made him feel loved. Made him feel…that Cor really did want this. If he wanted, he couldrub against Cor and purr as Thanks. Not anyone got the Marshal’s eyes on them like this, so full of…affection.

After somemore staring, Cor moved a hand up and used it to caress Loqi’s hair, as if tooafraid to touch his skin.

“…you lookstunning” Cor whispered. Loqi’s smile faded and his cheeks turned red; the waythe Marshal said it made it sound much more like a statement than a compliment.It was both heartwarming and overwhelming. Cor, in his words, was being asserious as in his actions, being a hopeless romantic without trying or meaningto be. “…you look…” Cor sighedquietly, eyes piercing not with intensity but with softness. He continuedstaring and staring, very subtly shaking the head.

Loqi, oncemore, waited in vain for Cor to finish his words. All that the Marshal did wasto offer him yet another apologetic smile. The Niflheimian did but laugh underhis breath, and the sound made Cor’s smile soften and grow. After a few moreseconds, keeping the hands on Cor’s chest, Loqi reached closer, head thrownback so he could look in the Lucian’s direction.

“Isn’t itbad luck to see your betrothed before the ceremony?” he whispered, with aplayful smile.

Cor’shands, almost on their own, moved up. Hesitatingly, like he still was not sureif he was allowed to touch Loqi, they tried to land on his waist. He touchedhim just enough to be felt, but Loqi could still feel Cor’s hesitation which,for once, was very sweet. After a few more seconds with the Marshal staring athim, Cor started subtly shaking the head. The movement became more clear aftera few seconds, and an arm finished sneaking around the blond’s waist, while theother let go, only to move the hand up and use it to gently grab Loqi’s chin.

“No. Notfor me, at least” Cor whispered, bringing the Nif even closer, until theirbodies were pressed together. “On the opposite. I’m prettycertain that it’s good luck when you find an angel…”

Loqi tookin a silent, subtle gasp, taken off-guard. He hated Leonis’ ability to do that.Cor was not the most explicit or affectionate of lovers, but when he wanted tosay something romantic, even as cheesy as he could get, there was no doubt hecould make Loqi’s heart flutter like the first time the Marshal ever laid hislips on his own…

The Nif didnot even think about arguing or giving one of his playful, teasing replies. Allhe knew in that moment was that the man in front of him was the first realowner of his heart, and he wanted him to be the last and only; that Cor lookedat him like a hopelessly devoted staring at their deity; that Cor hadbeautiful, incredibly expressive eyes, and that Loqi wanted to look at them,every morning and every night from that day on, just like they looked at him,not like they were everything in the world, but like there was nothing else init that he would rather look at.

Keeping hishands on the Marshal’s chest, and the Marshal hugging his waist and holding hischin, Loqi stood up on tiptoes and gently tilted the head slightly to a side,softly closed the eyes, and let Cor press a tender kiss to his mouth, somethingdelicate, barely a touch, chaste and sweet, but oh so dearly and heavily loaded of an affection and care that Loqi didn’t think possible until meeting him.

Loqi containeda sigh mid-kiss; he hated that Leonis could steal his heart withsuch simple things, like by wearing a stupid uniform, with such asweet little kiss, or even just by the way Cor looked at him, as if he truly thought him an angel.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Bonds Remain Unbroken

Yandere Erasermic x Reader

⚠️[Warning: Yandere mindsets and behavior, violence, animal abuse, troubled marital stuff, death, grieving, angst-fluff, and implied sexual activity]⚠️

“This is stupid.”

“Maybe but it's a tradition I’ve always done with Samuel.”

You batted your eyes and clasped your hands, silently pleading for the guard cat to comply. You didn’t have to do all that to convince him but you didn’t have to know that. Not when you were showing him such a cute expression.

“Fine.”

“Yay!!! Bring snacks, seeya Saturday!”

You waved as you hopped on to the last ride that would take you to your apartment. He waved even when he couldn’t see the neon lights of the bus anymore. He cursed your name as he trudged over to his car, pulling out his phone to see the multiple missed calls from his husband. He decided he’d take the high road and just deal with Yamada when he got home.

Deal with him he did..or tried to. After walking through the door he had to sit through hysterical ramblings, as he expected. “Where were you?” Who were you with?” and,“ Who needs to be buried?”

It had been twenty minutes before he got to speak his piece. ”Hi, how was your day.” Again he was given the almost endless ‘oh you're trying to change the subject?’ When he finally got Yamada to sit and listen before he dropped your name he spilled the whole story.

It started with his husband, as it always did. They had been hanging out near a pond, on Yamada’s suggestion, to just enjoy the much needed break for both of them. Aizawa-a busy private high-school teacher and Yamada-a teacher and radio show host. Needless to say the amount of work on both ends required them to find ways to relax together, this was one of them. While trying to just enjoy their own company an extremely annoying fratty boy was being unnecessarily loud in trying to hit a cat with a rock. He was being lightly recommended by a less fratty looking boy but that wasn’t the point. Not only was this jerk disturbing the peaceful atmosphere but he was an animal abuser. Disgusting. And what does the couple do when they see something disgusting? They put it in the trash. Besides, cleaning was therapeutic enough to distract from work, right?

They followed the pair to their house, apparently they were roommates. Dismissing the signs of extreme status of one of the boys, they were able to silently torture the cat-abuser before ending him all together. They would take somethings: make it seem like a burglary-gone-wrong what they weren’t prepared for was the innocent intrusion.

“Hey Matt, the little kitten is gonna be alright….who are you guys?”

While trying to restrain and silence him he stumbled upon his roommate. From there the couple decided there will be no witnesses to their crime and the mysterious case of a burglary gone wrong with two corpses and a little kitten had gone viral. Coverage for a crime was never good, especially when you're the one that caused it. CCTV footage found the couple witnesses to the last sighting of the boys (alive) there they would meet the influential parents to the boy they didn’t plan to kill, and his (s/o). Shota felt no remorse for anything that happened that night but when the only person who was seriously crying was his (s/o) he couldn’t deny this need to comfort you. But he knew how jealous his partner was; so much as looking at you could get you skewered and he didn’t want that. So he waited for when his husband left for work to track you down to find you where you’d been since you got the news: Samuel's grave.

Always decorated with flowers and with statues in reverence of him, you were always parked right in front of it. You would cry and tell him things about the kitten you were given as well as all the attention his family was giving you. Even after comforting you he found he couldn’t stop looking at you. At one point it was only something along a stakeout but when you started going back to your job and running errands he found himself following you religiously. Even being unreasonably tardy to his class waiting to see if you got to work on time. You were just so cute. Like a kitten. You navigate your way through your own life and eventually into the world of the elites. As aforementioned your boyfriend’s family sought to raise you to their level encouraging you to attend parties, take on socialite activities, and network with people who controlled the world. From what he heard from your confession at your boyfriend’s grave was that they just wanted you to replace their own son; they had tried something similar before but weren't nearly this bold. They were practically shoving money in your face at this point.

Thankfully the school he works at has many connections to these parties you have to host and oddly enough when his husband said he ‘wasn’t able to go to this one’ he wasn’t sad. Rather he was overjoyed he was able to see you so out of your element in a world you hardly know anything about. He used this to become an ally to you in the world of elitism, slowly worming his way into your life as your friend. While becoming a shoulder to cry on he realized how much you loved your boyfriend and how you constantly tried to recreate the joy you made with him. He kind of felt bad but he ended up finding himself rationalizing your loss. If it weren’t for his death we never would have met…he wouldn’t know where he’d be without you. So he proposed on his ,suggested escorting trip to your bus, that he help recreate a lot of your favorite activities.

Today you wanted to watch a bunch of badly written Christmas romance movies (cheesy hallmarks) and he fully intended to go. Shota didn’t dare tell Yamada about the fondness he felt for you; he was sure it was already suspected.

“Fine. But I have to go with you.”

Shota wanted to roll his eyes but he still pulled up your contact; even with the watchful glare behind his shoulder he texted you all the same.

Shotacat: Hey can my husband come?

(n/n): ofc 🤩 the more the merrier

Shotacat: R u sure

(n/n): i keep telling u to bring him anyways

The nudge on his shoulder reminded him of his disgruntled supervisor, “They asked about me?”

“Yeah…they did.” Does. You were as adamant to know everything about your new friend as you were for them to know everything about you. You expressed such an interest in getting to know his husband, a green ugly feeling was poking around his heart and he spoke about his husband in only the most negative light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hiiii I’m so happy you're here! And I’m so happy to meet you!” When you opened the door you were not what Yamada was expecting. He expected a misguided mistress to threaten him with their monopoly on his husband. You were a peach, hugging him as soon as you laid eyes on him. You had the biggest smile on your face, your feet seemed to bounce with excitement, and above all you had a cat on your shoulder that you kept steady during your greeting. He could see what made you so special to Shota. You led them to your designated cheesy hallmark station on your living room couch surrounded by snacks and drinks and three comforter blankets.

To be honest the radio star was really uncomfortable. All his planned threats and tricks to bring you to your knees were all shot down when you would answer to him so warmly. He never got this kind of treatment from Shota, who was growing distant but even before he was always so reserved. He knew recently their marriage wasn’t the happiest but it wasn’t your fault both of them no longer had to chase off kill anyone to happily be together. Their usually loving dynamic became a bond that was only rekindled with a murder or two but when things were complicated during that process they had a hard time looking at each other the same way.

“He’s totally gonna dump her. I can see it from here.”

“I know he’s got that too-obsessed-with-money-vibes.”

“Bro, this stereotype is so overused.”

“Isn’t it? Like this is so unrealistic.”

“Yeah.”

“Could you pick a different dynamic of friends?”

“Gosh, all these love interests look exactly the same!”

“Why is this chic the love interest in every other movie?”

He enjoyed how vocal you were with him; watching this movie laughing at his comments and jokes. Eventually you succumbed to sleep, positioning yourself on the shoulder of the previously on-guard radio star. The movie played and the still-awake couple sat in the dark in silence; not looking at each other.

“What happened to us?” He couldn’t look him in the eyes, “We used to see the world in each other’s eyes, used to be able to ‘have fun’ without being so worried about all of our mistakes, we used to be so obsessed with each other what happened?” He whisper-shouted, being careful to move your head into his lap so he could use his hands.

“Maybe it's because you hardly spend any time with me any more, maybe it's because you treat me like some old man, or maybe you're just bored.” The usually stoic teacher was nearly in tears and without disturbing you Yamada reached over to hold his hand tightly.

“No! No, no, no, Sho-baby no, why would you think that?”

“You never let me do anything on my own and you never want to do anything with me! How am I supposed to feel when I can’t even ask for anything if you keep telling me to rest ‘because I’m so tired’ !!!”

“I only ever wanted to not be a bother…I thought you didn’t like the way I did it,” you groan, adjusting yourself in his lap until you settle, he waits before starting again. “I love you Shota and only ever want to make you feel good.”

A tint of pink dances on his cheeks as he squeezes his husband’s hand. “I love you too.” Looking deep into each other’s eyes Shota licked his lips,” How about we try something new? That way I can show you exactly how I want it.”

“I would like that.”

They made out heavily on your couch, with your head raised slightly on Yamada’s pants. Stopping the heated touches and kisses they would look down at your sleeping face, mouth slightly open, a wonderful-awful-beautiful plan was made.

“Sho.”

“Yes.”

“I think a certain someone is as innocent as they are a confused listener, don’t you think?”

“Right…”

“Why don’t we take them in and give them all the love they deserve?”

Shota darted from your face to the blonde’s, “Aren’t you jealous your husband is so fond of someone other than you?”

“Why would I be jealous if they're my-our (s/o)?”

For the first time in a while the Aizawa-Hizashi couple were on the same page. Even though when you inevitably woke up you’d find that your guests would be cozied up and sleeping in your guest room. Tiredly you smile at your friends comfort before trekking back to your bed; what you failed to realize was that the couple was far from sleeping and instead were having a grand time re-exploring one another in their future lover’s darling’s house.

“Ah (Y/n) you are in for a wild ride.”

TBC?

[stromuprisahat]

Alina being shitty friend to Genya aka The tent scene: Book edition

Chapter 20- The end is bringing us book!version of Alina’s confrontation with Genya. A scene that leaves me baffled at why would Genya ever believe they were friends or why would she possibly betray her leader and goals for Alina. But hey- we’ll get to that in next book, so perhaps I’ll figure it out later.

👌  🤘

You know what he did and kept doing to Genya, and you want HER to WARN HIM?!

Yeah, Alina doesn’t question abusive old hags, why start with creepy stalkers, who claim Grisha- her people- don’t suffer enough?

Since Genya was still allowed to have her wits undamaged, she should have slapped Alina in this scene.

“Hey, Genya, remember how you told me about the guy, who’s been abusing you for years? Could you go to him and snitch on your boss? I’m sure the King won’t ask for anything in return for “helping us”. He’s the King after all. Besties?”

“What about the lovely lady that kept using and insulting you, well aware of your suffering?”

I love how much attention Alina pays to what her “friends” look like...

Red is such an unassuming colour after all...

Now, we’re probably expected to translate her “Be careful of powerful men.” as “The Darkling evil. *wink wink*”, but what if it was meant as 

“Powerful men might not have as much power as it seems.

They have more to loose.

They won’t put your fragile feelings first.

Don’t get in their way unnecessarily.

Don’t play games you don’t understand.

You might need to broaden your horizons if you want to keep up with him...”?

What about letting her finish, instead of assUming you’re thinking the same thing?

For all we know “There are rumors.” could mean “Oh! So it’s true? I knew you were fucking, but isn’t it too soon to promise your firstborn to Fjerdan heir and Shu empress at the same time? Think of the AGE GAP!”

Sometimes Alina talks like my grandma, except she’s not nearly old enough to be getting senile. She obviously has something on mind, and just expects everyone knows what she’s talking about.

Poor kid. Socially awkward, Saints-know how many disorders, and one hysterical ninny traumatizes him enough to “Think he’s destroyed all of Ravka.”.

Genya, mentally: “Our hope personified can’t be this stupid!”

Repeat after me:

“Wanting to belong” isn’t the same as being hunted, exploited and slaughtered for mere existence.

Neither is your place to “forgive” rape victim for seeking revenge on her rapist.

Congratulations, Alina! You’ve made severly abused girl cry, because she’s getting revenge on her abusers!

[angelguk]

dedicated to the lovely @himboksj​ happy (very late almost criminally late) bday present! so whew... there’s a lot happening in this one! return of jock!jk and his wonderful girl oc now featuring!!: squirting, creampie, oral (fem receiving), mild choking, biting, boobs in face!!, anime tiddy mentions, praise kink galore, multiple orgasms, the use of a vibrator, jaykay is sick actually, over-stimulation, mild spit kink, dommish!jk, (redacted) pet name, mentions (and watching) of porn, everybody is in love and horny, crying cause the dick too good, fingering but not really. 5k of words that should have never left my brain. listen to continuum & nothing without you by tanerelle (kindly check masterlist for the pretty boy drabble mini masterlist if you want to read the rest of this au!)

Jeongguk didn’t mean to go snooping through your things. It was 100% accidental. He just remembered that you kept some athletic tape in your drawers because Jeongguk usually needed to wrap his knee or ankle after practice and you ensured that he always had some near (in case he came crashing at yours instead of going back to his dorm after Coach brutalised him during drills). And, anyway, you were at a point in your relationship where Jeongguk didn’t necessarily feel the need to outright ask you if he could poke around your drawers. Of course, he respected your space, but it’s not like he wasn’t nosy when you were best friends. You were in the shower too, he didn’t want to bang on the door and ask where you kept the tape.

Imagine his surprise when he reached the final drawer in your dresser, idly rummaging around for the blue athletic tape he knows is buried somewhere, and his fingers latch around a silky cloth instead. He knew what it was immediately, the shape a dead give-away. A discreet bullet vibrator, stuffed under your unnecessarily large collection of fluffy winter socks. Perhaps he stopped breathing, the twitch in his loose workout shorts undeniable. He’s not surprised that you own one and yet, his brain can’t fathom you using it. Even now, Jeongguk’s still growing used to seeing you come undone around his length, the feeling of your walls tight on his cock as your mumble his name. It drives him mad. He’s seen you in every kind of state; sobbing hysterically, laughing until tears slip from your pretty eyes, stumbling drunk in the streets, eyebrows furrowed with anger at him, that soft tiny grin you grant him on good days, the pout your lips settle into when you don’t get your way. He never fathomed he’d ever see you in that way, skin flushed with heat, eyes cloudy with ecstasy, your heat pressed against his own. He finds new ways to fall in love with you every day but it reaches new heights when he’s deep inside of you. Maybe he’s mildly obsessed with seeing you unravel, but that’s a secret he keeps to himself.

He does take a peek at your toy though, a soft velvet-like purple vibrator. It’s cute actually, something you would definitely purchase. But then the sound of water hitting the shower tiles slows down and Jeongguk swiftly tucks the toy back into your drawers.

“Oh?” You say when you open the door to him standing stiff in your room. The steam from the shower wraps around your figure in gentle wisps, sunlight filtering in from the window behind you, the image of an innocent angel appearing right before his eyes. “You’re here.”

“Practise ended early,” Jeongguk returns, his gaze trailing the droplets of water that slip down your skin. You smell good, just like that vanilla and peach shower gel that you dearly love. And the towel hiding your body is loose. It’s not his fault that he’s hard in his pants. When he moves to hug you, your face contorts, a downward tug at your lips that Jeongguk longs to change with a kiss.

“I’m wet,” you whine, brushing past him. “Go shower, you always stink after practise.”

He huffs, strong arms catching your fleeing figure and quickly wrapping you into his chest. “No. Don’t want to. I missed you and you can’t even hug me? You’re so mean to me.”

“Guk-” Jeongguk cuts that complaint with his face in your neck, lips colouring your skin rouge with a kiss that intends to leave a mark. “You can’t,” you mumble, but your fingers settle on the nape of his neck, tangling in the growing strands of his hair. “I have to get to work soon.”

“It won’t take long,” Jeongguk returns, feathering kisses across your skin as he nudges you to the bed. “I promise. Let me do this, I’ve missed you, bunny.”

Your towel is discarded somewhere in the amble to your sheets, your thighs wrapped around Jeongguk’s face a second later. He watches your body carefully, teasing your clit with purpose before he allows himself to slip his tongue deep. He notes the twitches in your thighs, the way your buck your hips against his face. He ignores his desire, for the time being, nose buried at the apex of your cunt, tongue covered in your slick, his lips latched on your clit. You like it fast, purposeful sharp flicks that make you squirm until Jeongguk has to pin your hips down, the lave on your heat brutal. His brain can’t help but wonder how you’d behave with your toy grazing your clit and his cock burrowed deep. You’re so sensitive, response to even the softest kiss he lays on your cunt. Would you be wetter than this? You’re already dripping down his face, his mouth glistening with your desire. But he wants to see if you can do more than this, squirm more than this, make a bigger mess than this. The thought surfaces as he feels your body lock, the tension in your limbs drawn high as your hands reach for his. You cum on his face with your fingers intertwined, his name falling from your lips as the afternoon sunlight hits your skin. It’s then and there that Jeongguk decides, with his mouth wet from your release, he’s going to see you squirt one day. For him and him alone.

He waits for the moment to naturally strike, silently scheming wicked thoughts every time you crawl into his sheets. It happens one evening, an empty bottle of wine at the foot of your bed and hentai porn playing brazenly on his laptop screen. Somewhere between downing the bottle and cuddling in his sheets Jeongguk had mentioned an uncanny resemblance between your gigantic chest and the anime boobies he’d grown fond of since his introduction to hentai. You’d immediately dismissed him, whacking him hard on the head and then Jeongguk had to prove it to you, opening his favourite website and pulling up a video that had your jaw-dropping.

“Your boobs do that, you know,” he says. Which grants him a sharp kick to the shin.

“Jeongguk, what is wrong with you?” He can tell you’re not annoyed, but there’s a lilt in your voice that makes him pause, doe eyes flicking to your face. You may be kicking him under the blankets but your eyes are stuck to the video, a distance glaze colouring your gaze. He can tell by the way your thighs draw together that you’re not as averse to this as you pretend to be.

“Turn it off,” you mumble.

“Why? I can tell that you like it.”

“Jeon, I’m not joking.” There’s a glare paired with that sentence, but he reads right through it.

“Fine,” Jeongguk offers, fingers already typing what’s been on his mind since the day he discovered your vibrator.

“What are you—oh.”

There’s a quiet lull. He clicks on a video that’s more familiar to him than he’ll ever willingly admit out loud. It starts the way Jeongguk prefers it to, with a man on his knees, his head buried between the thighs of a girl.

“What are you doing, Guk?” A warning. A question. Jeongguk is not sure what you mean by that and he’s too hesitant to take a look at your face to decipher the tone in your voice just yet. He takes the jump instead, hoping you don’t mind the fantasies of his mind.

“Have you ever squirted?” Somewhere between the exchange of words in Jeongguk's room, the man on his laptop screen slipped two fingers into the girl. It doesn’t help that your boobs are falling right out of your loose camisole, resting right on his bare arm.

“Jeongguk,” you return. “Answer my question.”

“Answer mine first,” he looks at you then, trying hard to read your eyes. There’s no heat in your face, just an innocence that colours your features. Wide eyes, your legs draw together, a hard swallow that he sees in the low lights that illuminate the room.

“No,” you say, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “So why are you showing me squirting porn?”

It’s then that Jeongguk realises he wants to ruin you. As horribly cliché as it sounds, he longs for that. And the urge for it doubles when your gaze falters, flicking quickly for the screen before drifting back to his. The couple is still fucking on his screen, hard quick loud thrusts that travel to the pit in his stomach fast. He’s hard in his briefs, a painful throb ebbing through his length when your hand drops to his chest.

“Guk?”

He shuts the laptop, the moans cut off, a heated silence taking its place. The bed feels too big when he gets up, ignoring the confused look you give him.

The vibrator is exactly where he left it, oddly comforting because it means you don’t use it. You have him after all. But he needs the toy for tonight.

“What? Guk? What’s go—when did you find that?” You’re embarrassed, he knows it from the way you squirm under the blanket. He glances down at it, finger pressing the switch that turns it on. A quick run through shows ten decent vibrators at different levels, it’s rather intense even in his hands, the low buzz that it emits filling the room forbidding before he shuts it off.

“A couple of weeks ago,” he says. You groan, your head dropping into your hands.

“Put it away, Guk! And don’t go through my stuff ever again.”

“Why? I think it’s cute.”

“Cu—what is the point of this, Jeongguk? I don’t get what you’re trying to do?” And there you go, staring at him with those wide ingenuous eyes. So trusting, so clueless. He draws closer then, considers taking his underwear off so you can see just what you do to him. But when your gaze drops he halts. It’s not about him tonight. It’s about you.

The bed dips under the weight of his as he says it, the toy still in his hands. “I want to see if you can squirt.” He sees the way your back stiffens, the raise in your brow.

“I’ve never done that,” you splutter, falling back as Jeongguk crawls over you.

“I know. But you can.”

“I can’t, Guk. I don’t think I can.” Your pretty lips are drawn into a reluctant pout, but there’s a bright curiosity sparking through your gaze that Jeongguk knows all too well.

“See, you don’t think you can. You said that before. And then I made you cum five times in a row.”

“No that was different—”

“We’re just seeing if you can. We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I think it’d be fun to try.”

You pause, trying to ignore the heat blooming between your legs as you weigh the decision before you. There were times when you thought you were about to, an edge in your orgasms that felt dangerous. But your body never let you go there fully, drawing back from your slipped from heights you couldn’t handle. You can tell Jeongguk won’t grant you the same precautions. His eyes a dark, toeing a line that feels forbidding. The covers are gently pulled from you, Jeongguk staying silent as you ponder. But the moment the cool night air hits your skin you know what he’s asking for. It’s a strange level of vulnerability, a bareness that makes your skin prickle. He wants something that you’ve never given anyway else — not even yourself. It’s a lot to ask for and his directness makes you pause. The hesitation crumbles when his hand settles on your thigh, wide warm palm gently nudging your clasped legs apart.

“We really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jeongguk says, honey eyes locked on you. You know he’s being honest; he wouldn’t push it if you said no. And yet, something twists in your stomach. You want this. The realisation is sudden and you don’t know if it’s because of how perfect Jeongguk looks tonight. Chestnut curls a messy halo on his head and his shirt hanging loose from his broad shoulders. Or maybe it’s how he looks at you as if this is the only he’s ever really wanted in the world. As if you’re the only thing he’s ever really wanted.

“I want to—I mean I want to try.” You let yourself fall open then, something clicking as Jeongguk slots right against you perfectly, your sleeping shorts bunching up when his hips roll with intent. His lips land on your neck a moment later, a kiss so soft that you don’t feel it at first, lost in the way he hits your clit when he bucks into you. Jeongguk draws you back with a bite, one sharp enough to leave you gasping, your back arching from the sheets. He lets his hands slip under then, the vibrator momentarily forgotten as he maps your skin, lips feather-light once more, kisses gentle enough to leave you delirious.

“So good to me,” Jeongguk mumbles, eyes drifting to your lips. He draws close then, mouth fitting yours in a dreamlike perfectness. It’s flavoured with wine and want, a clear hunger in how he parts your lips. The hands that grip you are hard but his lips are gentle, savouring the taste of you against his mouth as if he wants to commit it to memory. The softness of the act has your skin tingling, bright and wild yet slow like the turning of the Sun. When you part, the air is different — charged, the current that swims through the atmosphere finding a home in your body as it settles in the depth of your gut. Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to ponder, mouth trailing from the corner of your lips to the hollow of your neck where he bites. It hurts enough to shock your senses, sweeping you back from the heavenly haze to the alarming reality of what he’s about to do to you. Your whimper hits the air as his tongue presses into the mark, painting your skin dark. A pointed reminder. You’d thought Jeongguk would be possessive, but sometimes he surprises you with it. The purposeful touches, the harsh bruises he likes to leave high on your neck. Or anywhere on your body, really. There are times he’d press his fingertips into them when you’re willing enough to let him choke you, the flash in your eyes spurring his hips forward.

For now, he busies himself with breathing a new one to life, one you know he’ll play with tomorrow — or later tonight if you give him the chance. Your brain can’t think that fair, zoning out as his mouth works a claim on your skin. Eager fingertips are drifting down your thighs, brushing past the band of your sleeping shorts. It’s expected that you’re already wet, but Jeongguk delights in his find with a muted moan in your neck. His fingers don’t go further though, grazing light against the damp fabric of your underwear. The swivel of your hips is automatic but Jeongguk quickly stills it with a hard press of his palm into your skin. You’re forced into the mattress, freezing when he finally wanders from your neck to your chest. So slow, wet lips idly trailing until his face lands between your chest.

“Gukkie,” you hadn’t realised how gone you already sounded until you spoke, voice wavering. He hums in response, non-committal, his hands shifting from your hips as he focuses on freeing you from your top so he can get your boobs in his mouth.

“Don’t tease me today.” You’re trying to sound firm, pliantly raising your arms so he can get you bare. But that firmness shrinks when your eyes land on his. So dark in the dwindling moonlight bleeding through your half-open blinds.

“Why?” There’s that smile of his, one corner hung higher than the either. You’ve sunk yourself in a sea brimming with sharks. “You sound cute when you whine, bunny.”

“Jeong — fuck.” There’s no point in protesting when he’s buried himself between your chest, tongue already toying with your nipple. Too many guys before him had misunderstood how to touch you there, but Jeongguk knew — he had learned. Studied your body so that he knows when to nip or kiss, shifting from pain to pleasure until the line blurred and so did your vision, until the only sound filling the room are harsh breaths and the quiet murmur of his name. Your hands eventually stray to his head, the heat in your core demanding attention as you guide him down. Jeongguk complies, not because he doesn’t want to tease you any further, but because he loves tasting you too much to ever say no.

The sight he finds sends an ache down his length, already hard but now leaking into the fabric of his grey sweats. You spread yourself so easily for him, light pink panties coloured dark with your wetness.

“Cute,” Jeongguk whispers, falling naturally into his place between your legs. It wasn’t meant to grace the air, but he’s glad it did when he notes the bashful smile tugging at your lips and how you twist to shift your head into the pillows the closer he gets. Which, honestly, makes him pause. He wants you to watch, needs you to. Something in the base of his brain needing constant affirmation that he’s making you feel good driving his next set of movements.

The hand on your chin is unexpected and adamant. You can’t help but give in, wide-eyed when Jeongguk forces your gaze onto him. “Need you to look bunny, can you do that for me?” The nod you give him is instinctual, heat blossoming in your bones when Jeongguk smiles, satiated and proud. Perhaps you should have put up more of a fight, but how could have known what he would do with only the tender touches he’d lift as your guide. Even the quick kiss he plants on your clothed cunt revealed nothing of what’s to come. So gentle as he pulls he fabric down your hips, discarding it somewhere in the sheets, his eyes never leaving the wetness on your lips.

“My pretty girl,” he says, nipping the inside of your thigh. You squirm at that, futile because Jeongguk just held you closer. “All mine, right bunny?”

“All yours,” you return, voice far and your mind slipping from your hands. Jeongguk apparently takes that to heart because he devours you, nose burrowed in the apex of your cunt, breathing you in as his tongue mapped the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take long for your legs to wrap around his head, back raising from the bed and the drip of your slick coating your inner thighs. Yet, Jeongguk relishes it, forgoing breathing as he eats you open, toying with your clit as if that was his sole life purpose. You forget the world with a speed that should concern you, thighs trembling with each determined swirl of his tongue over that bud. Again and again, until you spill into his mouth, wet and creamy, creating a mark of your own on his lips. He keeps you there, unrelenting even when your whines hit high and your chest heaves. There’s a ringing in your ears as the high wanes away, which is swiftly placed by a quiet mumbling that sinks into your skin.

“Tastes so good,” Jeongguk murmurs, licking between your folds. “So fucking good.”

“Jeon,” Something twists in your gut when he drops a final kiss onto you as if he was thanking you for letting him do that when you should be the one on your knees thanking him. When he softly drops your leg to the soiled sheets you decide it quickly, already shifting onto your elbows.

“Yes?” Such innocent eyes staring back at you like he didn’t just fuck you open with his tongue.

“I want you too,” you’re already shifting but Jeongguk is quick, fingertips hard on your jaw when he halts you. He knows what that means, reads it in how your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, wet just like you were. But that’s not what he wants, besides, he’d rather save that for other places.

“No.” When he says that you almost deflate, but then Jeongguk drops his hand from your jaw, swiftly dragging his shirt over his back and off his body. There’s nothing that can suffocate the desire that blooms in your chest. He’s so beautiful, hard lines and warm skin, kissed by the Sun herself. There’s an itch in your palm instantly, and you hastily register that if you don’t touch him you might die. Yet, your eager hands are pinned over your head, wrists wrapped tightly in the grip of one of his wide calloused palms. There’s a brief moment where his attention is caught by the bounce of your chest before you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that you’ve never asked Jeongguk to fuck your tits before. But as you stow that away for later concern, Jeongguk’s other hand drifts to the discarded vibrator, sinister now in his command.

“Don’t want to fuck your mouth, bunny. It’s not about me tonight, it’s about you.”

“But—” Jeongguk swallows that protest with a quick kiss, the taste of you on his tongue igniting a fire that crackles and consumes until you feel nothing but heat and want, all fuelled by your erratic lovesick heart. You kiss until the only thing filling your lungs is him, like a heavy smoke that envelopes you, travelling through your body until you pull away, warm chest flushed against his. There’s a stupid twinkle in his eyes and it makes you feel sick, swaying dangerously when he shifts away. You don’t want him to go, but you don’t move when he gives you that look. The devastating ache dissipates when his pants drop from his hips, hard cock meeting the cool air. The twitch that travels down his length echoes between your walls, eagerly clenching around nothing. Jeongguk just smiles, stripping bare leaving himself vulnerable to your eager eyes. You wait, behaving good because you want to for him and Jeongguk notes this, delivering a pleased slap to your cunt when he pulls you close, one hard enough to jolt through your spine when his palm hits your clit.

“I’m kind of sensitive,” you whisper, shy again. Which is funny because weren’t you begging for his cock down your throat a second ago?

“I know,” Jeongguk returns, uncaring. The vibrator comes to life a moment later, buzzing low through the room. He knocks it up to the second-highest level.

“Jeongguk! Start low then work it up. I can’t take it like that directly, it'll chafe me.” Which is right, your clit is already feeling dry, slick staying solely between your walls. Jeongguk notes that, pausing before sinking two of his fingers deep. You squeak, hips lifting when they brush against that spot in your walls. He works you open deftly, pleased when you grind your hips into his hands, spurred on by the feeling of something finally inside of you. But it’s fleeting, Jeongguk dragging his fingers out and over your clit before raising his fingers to his lips and licking them clean.

“Now it won’t,” he states, and before you can open your mouth and deliver a retort the vibrator is pressing against that bundle of nerves, tremors echoing in your bones as your legs squeeze shut in an attempt to get away. Jeongguk pins them open, cock leaking against your thigh and he rolls the edge of the toy over your clit, before you jolt so hard the sheets shift and he knows exactly where to place it. He works it out of you, praise naturally falling from his petal lips when you give in, eyes shut tight and your heart stuck in your throat. The vibration feeds the heat in your gut, drawing it to the surface of your skin, sweat beading along your forehead and a dampness forming down your spine. It feels both quick and slow, coaxed out of you with steadfastness. Jeongguk’s gaze never strays from your pussy, locked there as he etches this moment into his memory. You look gorgeous, whining and twisting underneath him. He can tell that this is a lot for you, judging from how you bury your face away from him. He would have forced your eyes on him, if he wasn’t already so enthralled by how perfect you look like this, moans low colouring the air bright with their sound. His own want multiples when your body freezes, strung tight, the edge beckoning you over.

He pulls the vibrator off then, depriving you of your release because his brain demands that he feels this one around his length.

“Jeongguk!” You’re on your elbows, eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. “Why-w-why would you do that?” There’s a waver in your tone, a lilt so pretty he can’t help but smile.

“When you squirt you’re doing it on my cock.” He states it like it's final. And it is from how he draws you close, vibrator momentarily lost in the sheets, the head of his length brushing against your wetness.

But what catches your attention is when. A loaded promise. A determined one.

You spread your legs open, shifting until he slips past walls stretching to accommodate his welcoming presence. “Okay then, make me.” You say it with your gaze on his, watching as his eyes glaze over hips already bucking deeper, before your words register in his brain and Jeongguk’s gaze shifts into a dangerous glint.

He tugs you hard, pulling close enough so that he sinks in deep, cunt already moulding to the curves of his cock. “With pleasure.” Those words are warning, painted right into the heat of your skin as he sheathes himself inside of you. The groans in the air belong to both of you melting into one distinctive sound. It’s cut by the lewd squelch of your wetness coating his length, one that settles in Jeongguk’s gut, release already creeping into the corner of his vision. But he holds it back by knocking your legs further apart, mouth returning to the bruise he left earlier, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. You arch into him, shifting as pain bleeds through your nerves. The motion allows the last inch of him to slip past your walls, spearing you open, before Jeongguk draws himself out and returns with a hard slow thrust. He fucks you deep, right into the bed, the frame creaking with each loud meeting between the two of you. You can’t do anything but cling onto him, eyes fluttering as his cock drives into you, determined with every piston of his hips to see you unravel. And you do, with a sickening quickness, already weak with the remembrance of your past edge. You feel soft underneath him, pressed against his skin like you hope you find a home for yourself there. And Jeongguk provides — lips mapping your skin gently and a pride in his tone that makes you want to do anything for him.

“That’s it, good girl.” You can’t say anything but his name, whining with every drag of his length along your walls. “So good to me,” he whispers, sweet, unlike his unforgiving hips. “Pretty girl and she’s all mine.”

“Yes,” you gasp, wanting this more than ever. “All yours—a-all—hnghhhh—y-yours! Jeongguk, please! P-please, please, please.”

He slows, smiling into your neck. “What bunny? What do you want?”

“Wanna cum, Jeongguk p-please let me cum.” When he moves away you feel your gut drop. The vibrator is flicked back one, humming dangerously. “Guk—” you start; he shushes you with a purposeful thrust.

“You said you wanted to cum. Remember what you promised me, bunny?” You nod, slow, nervous but your need overriding your fear. Jeongguk just smiles, shifts himself a little deeper, and then places the vibrator where you need it most. It’s not instant, but it’s quick and violent, travelling through your bones and Jeongguk rocks himself deep, curls damp on his forehead and his shoulders tense but his body still giving. You match his movements with your own, shuddering the closer you feel it creep, ripping itself right out of your limbs, drawn to the surface with no remorse, your eyes falling shut and hips seizing. The vibration paired with the feeling of Jeongguk fucking you full is intoxicating, and unlike you he doesn’t hesitate, playing with your clit unforgivingly.

You don’t even hear yourself, mouth agape and your back high from the sheets, all you know is heat, burning from the inside out. No air in your lungs as it spills from you, right onto his length, walls drawn tight. It hits his abdomen, leaving his muscles wet and glimmering as the moonlight greets his skin. Jeongguk shuts down, hips moving automatically, the vibrator thrown aside, still buzzing forlornly. He couldn’t give a damn about it, bending your legs back and fucking into you hard as you coat his cock in your wetness. If it was loud before, it’s obscene now. The nails in his back spur him further, a need he’s never felt before consuming him whole. It’s already there, the white of his desire clouding his vision, but his brain suddenly stills.

Jeongguk’s hand on your chin draws you back to Earth, mind nothing but mush as he continues to fuck you open. They’re erratic thrusts, and with them, you slowly release that your cheeks are wet. Jeongguk realises it the same time you do, thumb gingerly brushing the tears falling from your eyes away. There’s a strange new awareness buzzing through your body, like your bones feel new, limbs reformed. But nothing could prepare you for that thumb on your cheek travelling down, grazing your lips until they fall open. He slips it past, lets you flick your tongue against it, before demanding. “Open.”

And you do, because what wouldn’t you do for him.

“Can I?” He questions, and somehow you know what he is asking. Another claim. Something else you’ve given nobody but him.

“Yes.”

There’s a fall in his shoulders as if he was afraid you would deny him. But how could you ever? His thumb leaves your lips, hand drifting until it settles on your neck, pressing firmly but not tight. And then his own lips part, hips unwavering, for what he sends down your throat. You swallow, oddly thrilled by it while Jeongguk watches silently, almost in marvel. It does something to you, the way he stares, like he cannot believe you’re his. And you feel that sentiment in how he kisses you next, desperate, pleading, thankful. You return it, tongue soft against his as you feel his back draw taut, a low groan spilling down your throat when Jeongguk finally snaps, euphoria bleeding through his brain. You feel it hit your walls, warm and wet, painting you white, a strange satisfaction settling through your body.

When he eventually rolls over, quiet like he’s still recovering, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, an attempt to keep his love locked in. His hand cups your own, guiding you back into reality with a gentle squeeze.

The still buzzing vibrator is what you hear first, followed by the joint panting of your lungs. You move to grab it, hoping to hide the revelation in your eyes by glaring at him. Jeongguk is still too lost to care, face flushed a vibrant rouge.

“Turn this stupid thing off,” you mutter, legs still stuck, fused to the bed from the shock of your orgasm. Jeongguk snatches it up, waving it through the air as he turns it off, before giving it a fond kiss.

“Gross,” you comment, smacking his hard chest.

“No,” Jeongguk returns, dropping it. He plants a ginger kiss on your forehead. “I quite like it actually, we should order another one. Do you think they do vibrating panties?”

You hit him again, rolling over until your leg swings over his. He keeps looking at you like that, and it keeps clawing right through your heart. “You’re so sick and evil,” you say instead of the annoying comments that flutter in your delirious brain. You want to call him pretty, beautiful, perfect, maybe the best thing you’ve ever had. But you can’t let Jeongguk know he has all that power over you — not when already made you squirt and spat down your throat in one sitting. “Can you clean me up? I’m getting sticky.”

Jeongguk stills like he’s suddenly remembering what he just did, where he just came. And then you feel the rise of his chest, gaze flicking up to meet his. Bright and full of something akin to adoration, before he blinks it away.

“Give me a moment, I think I just saw God.”